‘Wow! That man’s crazy.’
I laugh. Yes, crazy man; crazy deluded; crazy rich; crazy challenging, crazy loveable… ‘Are we out tonight?’ I ask. I’ve rebuffed crazy man on the assumption that Kate’s free. He can’t assume I’m there to fuck at his beck and call. It is very tempting, though.
‘Absolutely! Ask Victoria and Gayboy.’
I sag in relief. ‘Victoria has a date with Drew, but I’ll ask Tom. Are you not seeing Sam then? He’s becoming a bit of a permanent fixture at your place.’ I arch a brow. He’s actually a semi naked permanent fixture, but I don’t point that out.
She’s going to play it off as fun. ‘It’s just a bit of fun.’ she replies haughtily.
I laugh at her casualness. I know different. We’re talking about the girl who hasn’t been on a second date for years. Sam’s cute. I can certainly see the appeal.
A car starts honking its horn from behind Margo Junior. ‘Oh, fuck off!’ Kate yells. ‘I’m off. I’ll see you at home later. You’re in charge of getting the wine.’ The window starts to rise and she grins from ear to ear. I still can’t believe he brought her a van.
I suddenly remember the deal I brokered in exchange for my clothes…no drinking tonight. Well, that’s rubbish because I’m looking forward to a glass or two. He’ll never know. Kate zooms off down the road, and I return to the office.
‘Patrick called,’ Sally informs me as I pass her desk. ‘He’s not coming in at all today. He’s playing golf.’
‘Thanks, Sal.’ I return to my desk, stretching my legs back out. Yes, I’m really feeling it now. Standing back up, I pull my heel up to my backside, letting out a long, grateful breath when my thigh muscle stretches most satisfyingly. My phone starts jumping around my desk and Placebo starts crooning about Running up that Hill. I don’t even have to look at the screen to know who it is. He has amazing taste in music.
‘I like.’ I say, by way of greeting.
‘Me too. We’ll make love to it later.’
‘You’re not seeing me later.’ I remind him again. He’s doing this on purpose.
‘I miss you.’
I can’t see him, but I know he’s pouting. And as for the make love part…well, it’s a massive improvement on fucking. I smile, my heart performing jumping jacks in my chest. ‘You miss me?’
‘I do, I miss you.’ he grumbles. I glance at my computer. It’s one o’clock. It’s not even been five hours since I left him. ‘Don’t go out tonight.’ he says. It’s not a plea, it’s a demand.
I flop back in my chair. I knew this was coming. ‘Don’t.’ I warn, in the most assertive voice I can muster. ‘I’ve made plans.’
‘You know, you may be at work, but don’t think I won’t come down there and fuck some sense into you.’ His voice is deadly serious and even a little angry.
He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Or could he? Bloody hell, I’m not even sure. ‘Knock yourself out.’ I respond, very lightly.
He laughs. ‘I was serious, lady.’
‘I know you were.’ I’ve no doubt about it, but he will have to wait until tomorrow to do any sort of fucking.
‘Do your legs ache?’ he asks, just as I’m stretching them under my desk again.
‘-ish,’ I’m not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m actually in pain. I’ll have a Radox bath before I go out. Hold up…was he trying to cripple me so I can’t go out?
‘-ish,’ he replies, humour clear in his husky voice. ‘Remember our deal?’
I roll my eyes to myself. I was kidding myself if I thought he would forget about his little deal. And now I’m certain he had me running a marathon at the break of dawn in an attempt to immobilise me. Control freak!
‘No reminder fuck required.’ I mutter. He’ll never know. I’m not going to get so drunk that I have a raging hangover – it’s too soon after my last performance.