“Hmm, sneaky.” I smirk.
She smiles broadly and taps her temple. “What are you going to do about Mark then?”
“Crap, I don’t know. It’s so uncomfortable. He’s flirting up a storm every chance he gets.” I blow out a disgusted breath.
“You should tell him that you don’t want anything serious right now.”
“He asked me to go to dinner on Friday night. I thought I could tell him then.” Brielle smiles broadly. “The London effect might hit you again and you might end up getting on the tequila and on with him. That would be funny.”
Hank laughs and bumps his ice cream into Brielle’s.
“Hilarious,” I mutter. “Not happening.” I look across the road and see the door of the restaurant open. “Here he comes.”
We all scooch down in our spying seats so we can’t be seen.
Julian holds the door open and then a woman comes out in a sexy red dress.
Brielle’s mouth drops open in horror. “Are you kidding me?”
“She’s pretty. I’m impressed,” I reply with raised eyebrows.
“She’s young!” Brielle snaps. “Is he frigging kidding?”
“She would be mid-twenties,” I reply. “That’s not too young. What seems to be the problem?”
Brielle is outraged and steam is practically shooting from her ears. “What would a young blonde bombshell want with a middle aged man?”
I roll my eyes. “Funny you should ask that. I do wonder myself.”
Hank snickers. “Touché.”
“She’s just after his money.” I raise my eyebrows. She can’t be serious? “Remind me why we are spying on him?”
“Because he’s a fucking idiot,” she exclaims way too loud. Hank and I cringe and look around at the people surrounding us. “Shh,” I whisper.
We sit in silence as we watch them hold hands and disappear around the corner.
I bite my lips to stifle my smile. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” she replies, deadpan.
“What’s going on?”
She hesitates for a moment. “We… we had a moment.” “A moment?” I frown.
Hank’s eyes meet mine briefly. I knew she was hiding something.
“Last week.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “This is going to sound pervy.”
“I love pervy, you know that.” I smirk.
“Pervy works for me,” Hank whispers.
“I didn’t know he was home.”
“And?” I frown.
“He was going to be away for the night as he had a work thing on a couple of hours away.” I nod and sip my coke.
“Samuel had a dream earlier in the night and it really upset him.”
“Go on.”
“I had been reading a really good book and it was about 2am and I thought I would just go and check on Samuel before I went to sleep.”
“I’m listening,” replies Hank, deep in concentration. “I was in my little black silky nightgown.” I smile broadly. I know where this is going. Hank and my eyes meet.
“I checked on Samuel and was on my way back to bed when I heard something in Julian’s room.” My eyes widen.
Hank sits forward to listen.
“So, I went in to see if everything was okay, and the light was on in his bathroom. I peered around the door and Julian was in there.”
“What was he doing?”
“He was naked.” “Naked?” I breathe.
Hanks eyes widen.
She nods.
“What was he doing?” I sit forward in my seat. This is getting juicy.
“He was naked and… pulling himself.”
“What?” I shriek.
“Fucking hell,” whispers Hank.
“Shh,” she hisses as her eyes glance around at our surroundings. “He didn’t see me, and I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t move, so I stood there and watched him.” My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets and I have to put my hands over my mouth to suppress the shock.
“What the hell happened?” I whisper.
“He looked up and saw me watching him.”
“Fuck off,” Hank breathes.
“It’s true.”
“Holy crap, what did he do?” I ask.
“He kept going.”
“He kept going? Holy shit. H-he kept going?” I stammer. I can’t believe this.
“Yes, and I stood still in a satin black nightgown and watched the damn show.”
I burst out laughing. “He came in front of you.”
She nods.
“Oh my fucking God.”
Hank’s eyes are the size of saucers.
“What happened the next morning?”
“He acted like it didn’t happen. But it’s a thing now and I know we are both thinking about it.”
I laugh out loud. “How have you not told me this?”
“Because the London effect is giving me wet dreams of my fucking boss and I’m turning into a stalking creeper.”
“Holy crap. It really is.” I laugh out loud, unable to believe the events she has just told me about. “And you really are a creeper.”
Hank lifts his ice cream in the air and we all clink them together. “You girls are officially my favorite kind of crazy.”
* * *
It’s Friday night and we are at a bar, with Hank and Vanessa is meeting us in an hour.