‘Shhhhhhh!’ I scowl at him, looking over my shoulder into Patrick’s office. He’s not there, but he could be in the kitchen or the conference room. I should have known my g*y, inquisitive friend would be picking my brain on Jesse’s shock visit to the office yesterday. In fact, I’m surprised he held out until this morning.
Tom waves a dismissive hand. ‘He’s not here. Tell me!’
I focus my attention on my computer, turning it on and faffing with the mouse. What do I tell him? I’ve fallen in love with a controlling, domineering, unreasonable, neurotic, trampling man, who happens to be a client and f**ks me senseless? Oh, who also gives me the countdown when I disobey him? Yes, that about covers it. I look up and find Victoria’s joined the interrogation party.
‘He’s one hot S.O.B!’ she sings.
‘S.O.B?’ I frown.
‘Son of a bitch.’ they say in unison.
Oh? Yes, he’s that too. I smile to myself, stretching my legs under the table on a sigh. Oh, that feels good.
‘Don’t hold out on us!’ Tom whines, executing the g*yest pout I’ve ever seen.
‘I’m sleeping with him.’ I shrug. I’m in love with him!
They both look at me like I’ve sprouted horns, then at each other on an eye roll. Both sets of arms get folded across their chests as they stand before me. Tom looks over his fashion spectacles, and I glance over my desk to see if they’re tapping their feet as well.
‘Ava, we know that,’ Tom huffs impatiently. ‘We just want to know if the rebound f**king has moved into more interesting territory.’ He lowers his head further down, making me feel like I’m under a microscope. I am. I remove the fingers from my hair.
‘I could ask Drew.’ Victoria chirps.
‘What?’ I throw a filthy look in her direction when I realise what she means. ‘Victoria, I’m not in high school. I don’t need you picking his friends brain. Keep your mouth shut!’ I sound really harsh, but I honestly cannot believe she has just suggested something so pathetic and immature.
She looks at me all hurt and backs off, returning to her desk and her broken nail. Tom looks at me, disapproval written all over his face. I shake my head at him. I don’t care. She can be such a ditsy cow sometimes.
‘It’s sex, nothing more.’ I inform him. ‘Now, leave me alone!’ I grab my mouse and direct it aimlessly around my screen.
‘Hmmm,’ he muses, leaving me at my desk in peace. ‘Just sex, my arse.’ I hear him mutter.
I spend the morning checking on my clients and schedules. I’m pleased. Everything is running smoothly, with no major dramas to attend to and no lazy contractors to sack. I pencil in a few site visits for next week, smiling as I write between the diagonal lines of permanent marker pen. I need to replace my diary before Patrick cops a load of my daily appointments with the Lord.
I gladly accept the cappuccino and muffin that lands on my desk, courtesy of Sally, and frown when I hear a commotion of car horns coming from outside the office. I look up, spotting a pink van double parked and Kate frantically waving to get my attention. I lift myself from my chair, groaning as my muscles scream in protest. I hiss on every step I take until I’m stood at the side of Margo Junior, smiling fondly at my fiery friend’s excited face.
‘Isn’t she pretty?’ Kate lovingly caresses the steering wheel of Margo Junior.
‘Beautiful,’ I agree, but then I remember something. ‘What are you playing at letting Sam have free reign on my underwear drawer?’
‘I couldn’t stop him!’ Her voice is high pitched and defensive. It bloody well should be. ‘He’s a cheeky swine.’ She grins.
I’ve no doubt that he is. The thought instantly reminds me about the whole tying up charade. I’m tempted to ask Kate, but I quickly decide that I really don’t want to know.
‘How’s Jesse?’ Her grin widens.
‘Fine,’ I narrow my eyes on her.
‘You stayed there,’ she says, her tone suggestive. ‘Have fun?’
I scoff. ‘Well, I had a wild ride on a Ducati 1098, had daggers thrown at me by Sarah and ran nine miles this morning.’ I reach down, rubbing my hands over my aching thighs.
‘Fuck, is she still at it? Tell her to take a leap.’ She frowns. ‘You ran nine miles? Well, that stinks. And what the hell is a Ducatsiwhatevery?’
‘A superbike,’ I shrug. I wouldn’t have known that myself a few days ago. ‘He’s deposited a hundred grand into the Rococo Union bank account.’
‘What?’ she shrieks.
‘You heard.’
‘Why?’
I shrug. ‘To keep Patrick quiet while he hogs me. He doesn’t want to share me.’
‘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 f**k 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.