Page 68 of (Not) The One
‘Yes, we wereallvery busy that night.’ My gaze flicks to Heather who seems unaware of what’s just been said because there’sbeingbusyand then there’sgetting busy, but it seems to have gone over her head. ‘Busy, busy, busy.’ I suddenly feel like a player in the middle of a very British theatrical farce.
I can’t believe he’d turn up at my office in the middle of the workday, throwing euphemisms around with a hint of blackmail. I need to shut this down and tell him why Friday can’t happen again, but I can’t very well do it with Heather listening in. And I’ve no intention of doing so in the café downstairs. Walls have ears. Usually the ears of old ladies with a penchant for judgement and gossip, what I can tell from the place. I’ve no intention of being the topic of their gossiping.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I know who it’s from before I even look down.
We need to talk about this AFTER the hottie takes you for lunch.
I text back the emoji that looks like I’m flipping her the bird.
Please. I need to burn sage to smudge the sexual tension from this room. Do you want me to embarrass you?
More?I text back.
Cocktails tonight or I’m so telling everyone you snorted Grandad.
Et tu, Heather? Did I miss the memo? Is it Blackmail Monday today?
‘Last chance,’ he sort of taunts. Last chance before what? I’m not sure I’m willing to risk finding out.
‘Yes, okay. Fine. Twenty minutes won’t harm.’ I grab the office keys from my drawer and my purse from the back of my chair, throwing it over my shoulder a little aggressively. ‘Won’t be long,’ I murmur meaningfully as I pass Heather. Then I flounce my way out of the office.
In the hallway, I’m struck by a sudden idea, moving to the flight of stairs going up rather than the one going down.
‘This way,’ I murmur, gesturing the way as he emerges from the office behind me.
‘Any particular reason?’ he asks in that smooth tone of his.
‘I don’t want an audience.’ He chuckles darkly tempting. ‘In your dreams.’ I throw my retort over my shoulder. ‘And stop staring at my bum.’
‘I do so love watching you walk upstairs.’
His comment is a strange sort of validation, and I’m pleased he’s still behind me so he can’t see my smile.
At the top of the short flight, I unlock the door to Olivia’s new office. Up until a couple of weeks ago, her desk had been in the open-plan office downstairs, but since marrying Beckett, she’s made all kinds of changes. E-Volve has taken on new staff and another office upstairs, she’s implemented new processes, streamlined the app usage, and gotten herself a private office on the new floor. But despite marrying someone mega rich, she’s still the same Olivia, and I’m almost certain she won’t mind me using her office for a few minutes.
Almostcertain.
The door opens, and I stride in, whirling around to face him as I fold my arms. The effect is spoiled a little as I realise he isn’t watching, his back half turned and facing me as he closes the door behind him. But then he turns and smiles so openly, I almost forgive him for everything. Until I remember I can’t.
And I can’t get involved with him.
‘I thought we might be better served with a little privacy.’ I try for aloof, which he appears to ignore.
‘I like your thinking.’ His gaze roams over me in a very obvious and avid sort of appraisal.
‘No!’ My arms slap against my sides as I drop them, suddenly exasperated. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but contrary to what you seem to think, I’m not good for it anytime, anywhere.’
‘As I recall, I asked you to lunch. At no time did I suggest you were to be the main course.’
‘Good, because I’m not having sex with you.’ Did I say that a little loud? Shout it even? I hope not. The office is in an old refurbished warehouse with brick walls, wooden floors, and cavernous ceilings—the noise carries through the space terribly. To put it another way, if we were to have sex on a quiet day in the office, Heather would hear. And how do I know? Because I’ve had to put the radio on downstairs during Beckett’s visits. ‘You know what, James, Harry, or whoever you are? I’ve got a lot to do this afternoon, so we’re going to make this quick.’
‘I can be quick.’
‘That’snotsomething to smirk about.’ Hell. We’re not supposed to be playing this game—and I’m not supposed to be encouraging this whole thing. Maybe coming up here wasn’t the best idea, after all.
‘It’s a skill,’ he replies smoothly. ‘One that’s especially important for those moments for when you’re time poor. If you’re very, very busy, it would only take me a couple of minutes to get you off.’
‘Like I needed the clarification!’ I almost cry. He steps away from the door when I hold up my hand like a stop. ‘And... and inappropriate.’
