‘What are you on about?’ I snap.
She leans across the table, all serious. ‘Ava, the sexual tension batting between you and that man was so fucking super charged, even I was horny!’ She laughs. ‘He wants you bad. He couldn’t have made it any clearer if he’d have spread you on that pool table.’ She points, and I actually look.
‘You’re imagining things.’ I snort. I know she’s not, but what can I say?
‘I’ve seen the text, and now I’ve seen the man in the flesh. He’s hot…for an older guy.’ She shrugs.
‘I’m not interested.’
‘Ha! You keep telling yourself that.’
I scowl across the table at my best friend. ‘I will.’
‘Let me know how that works out for you.’ she shoots back, rather flippantly.
***
I return to the office and spend the rest of the day achieving absolutely nothing. I twiddle my pen, visit the toilet a dozen times and pretend to listen to Tom harp on about Gay Pride and all things camp. My phone has rung four times – all Jesse Ward – and I’ve rejected each and every call. I’m staggered by this man’s persistence and confidence.
How loud?
I’m stunned!
I’m happy and enjoying my new found freedom, and I have no intention of derailing my plans to be single and carefree. I’m not getting caught up with a handsome stranger, no matter how handsome he is. And oh, is he mind meltingly delicious. Anyway, he’s way too old for me. And more importantly, he’s obviously taken. And that only reinforces the fact that he’s an ultimate player. This is not the sort of man I need to be attracted to, damn me, especially after Matt and his infidelities. I need a man, eventually, who’ll be faithful, protective and look after me – preferably a bit nearer my age too. How old is he?
My phone declares a text, making me jump and snapping me from my wandering thoughts. I already know who it is before I look.
Being rejected isn’t very nice. Why won’t you answer my calls? Jx
I laugh to myself, drawing the attention of Victoria, who’s rummaging through the filing cabinet near my desk. Her perfectly plucked eyebrow arches. I don’t suppose he is use to rejection. ‘Kate.’ I offer, by way of an explanation. It seems to work, as she returns to sifting through the cabinet.
It should be obvious why I’m not answering my bloody phone. I don’t want to talk to him. He unnerves me, triggering too many reactions. And, quite frankly, I don’t trust my body around him. It seems to respond to his presence with no prompt from me or my brain, and that could be very dangerous indeed.
My phone rings again and I quickly reject it. Christ, give me a chance to reply! Am I even going to reply? I’m never going to get rid of him. I need to be brutal.
If you need to discuss your requirements, you should be calling Patrick, not me.
There. No sign off and definitely no kiss. I’ve not said in so many words, but he should get the message. I put my phone down, all set on getting something done, but it chimes again. I pick it straight back up, grabbing my coffee with my spare hand as I do.
My requirement is to make you scream. I don’t think Patrick can help me there. I’m gagging just thinking about it. That’s a thought...will I need to gag you? Jx
I spray coffee all over my desk as I cough. The cheeky sod! How brazen and unashamed can a man be? Does he think I’m easy or something? I switch my phone to silent, chucking it down on my desk in disgust. I’m not even dignifying that with a response. Replying will only encourage him. There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and Jesse Ward triple jumps that. I feel sorry for old pouty lips. Is she aware of her man pursuing young women?