by L.H. Cosway
“Hey.”
“So…”
“Have breakfast with me?” I asked, desperate to make up for my poor behaviour. Don’t get me wrong, I knew we both wanted what happened last night, but I still felt like she deserved more. Today I’d show her that.
Her cheeks pinked at the suggestion and she nodded, still smiling. “Okay. We don’t have anything until late afternoon anyway. And Paul’s recording a slot on Autumn’s podcast this morning, so it’ll be just the two of us.”
“Perfect,” I said, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss. “I’m going to shower in my room.” I would’ve suggested sharing one, but with how sexy and tired she looked, I’d be inside her before the water even had a chance to hit us.
“Yes, good idea,” Michaela agreed, clutching the cover to her chest as I slid out of bed and pulled on my trousers.
I shot her one last parting look before I went next door to my own room and turned on the shower. Stepping under the spray, I thought of how being with her last night made me feel. A warm, content sensation had taken up residence in my chest and it wouldn’t let up.
The way I felt for her went far beyond simple attraction.
Did she feel the same? The question continued to nag at me.
Everything was moving so fast, and we still hadn’t had the chance to talk properly. I finished up in the shower and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. There was a gentle knock on my door and I went to open it. Michaela stood in the corridor. She wore a calf-length purple dress under her long wool coat, boots, and a silk scarf. Her hair was twisted up into a bun and it made me want to bite the exposed skin at her neck.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I said, holding out my arm to her. She linked hers through and we headed downstairs. There was a wonderful freedom about being in a place where no one knew who we were. In London, I was her boss and she was my assistant. But here we could act like a couple and nobody even cared. Well, except for Paul, but he was off recording a podcast with Autumn this morning.
We walked up the street, arm in arm, in search of a traditional New York coffee shop. I couldn’t help it when my eyes kept wandering back to her, her cheeks rosy from the December chill.
“I feel like I’m in a movie,” she said, looking around in awe. “You know how some places are familiar in your mind because of popular culture, but you’ve never actually been there?” I nodded. “That’s how New York feels to me. It’s both new and oddly familiar at the same time.”
“I felt the same way the first time I went to Paris,” I said. “All of the landmarks were so clear in my head, but it was different being there in person.”
“I think places seem smaller when you actually go there,” Michaela said. “But in the movies, they look huge.”
“That’s probably because in movies, you’ve got aerial shots, lots of different viewpoints, but when you’re there, it’s just one angle.”
“You’re right. I think that’s it,” she said as we spotted a coffee shop. “Oh, this place is so cute. I wish it was warmer so we could grab some bagels and just keep walking.”
“Guess I’ll have to bring you back in the summer,” I replied, and she blushed. I’d meant it as a throwaway comment but somehow managed to reveal that whatever was between us, I didn’t want it to be short-term. Was I jumping in too fast? Michaela was far from a rebound, but was I ready for another relationship so soon after Diana? I was still going through so much, and it felt like a lot to dump on Michaela. She didn’t deserve that, but I also wasn’t prepared to give up this thing between us. It felt too vital.
Maybe I was getting ahead of myself. I still had no idea what she was thinking. Worst-case scenario, she might dismiss last night as a one-off, and that possibility made me anxious.
A waitress led us to a table, handing us each a menu. I watched Michaela as she scanned it, unconsciously sucking her lower lip into her mouth. She had no idea how just watching her affected me.
“So, last night was sort of wild,” I said, my eyes on the menu. Last night was sort of wild? God, I sounded like an idiot.
Michaela glanced up, her face shy. “Yes, I was very drunk,” she said and just like that, my stomach dropped. “I mean, not that that’s the only reason why I…” she trailed off, shaking her head at herself. “Sorry, I’m nervous. What I meant to say was, I don’t regret what happened.”
“Well, thank Christ,” I exhaled in relief. Michaela also looked relieved, which made me think she might’ve been going through a similar thought process as me this morning. “Just so you know, I don’t regret what happened either,” I said, holding her gaze as the waitress returned to take our orders. I gestured for Michaela to go first and she asked for the scrambled eggs while I opted for the breakfast bowl. The waitress left us and a silence fell.
“It’s good,” she said, breaking the quiet, her gaze on the table. “That you don’t have regrets.” A pause as she lifted her eyes to mine, a look of confidence in her that I liked. “So, where do we go from here?”
I reached out, placing my hand gently on top of hers. “Where would you like this to go?” On the surface I maintained my calm, but on the inside, I was nervous as fuck. I wanted so desperately for us to be on the same page.
“I’d like it to continue, but obviously it’s going to be complicated. I’m still your assistant.”
I was both elated and perturbed by her answer. She was still my assistant. How on earth was that going to work?
“I was actually thinking about it this morning,” Michaela went on. “And it’s definitely something we could work around.”
“How?”
“Well,” she said, fiddling with the edge of a napkin. “I could stay on as a PA for the cast, but I could just not work for you anymore. Neil could take care of your needs and in return, I could take some of the slack on his end and handle some of his duties.”
I smiled because it was a great solution and not at all impossible to achieve. “You’re amazing.”
“I’m just a planner. I like figuring out problems. It’s why I’m good at my job.”
“You’re incredible at your job,” I said. “And I’ll sort everything out with Neil and the others. You don’t need to worry about that.”
We stared at each other across the table. I took in the rounded shape of her cheeks, her thick, dark lashes, and pretty, femininely shaped lips.
She looked away, seeming embarrassed by me ogling her.
“So, um,” she said, her eyes flicking to mine, sultry now, her voice quiet. “Things last night went a little further than I thought they would. Again, I don’t regret it, but when we’re together, it can be a little…”
“Intense?” I finished when she trailed off.
“Yes. I haven’t really experienced that before,” she admitted.
“Me neither,” I confessed and she seemed surprised.
“Not even with Diana?”
I shook my head and her mouth formed a round O shape. “Only with you,” I said, hoping she heard the truth in my voice. “You bring something out in me,” I asserted, my eyes tracing the pretty curve of her lips, the delicate line of her exposed neck.
She turned her palm up, linking her fingers with mine, her eyes on the table. Another rush of desire swept through me as my mind wandered back to last night. Her kneeling on the floor, so beautiful and confident as she held my entire being in the palm of her hand. I wanted to lean across the table and kiss her, but the place was busy with families and the kiss I wanted to give her was definitely not family friendly.
I cleared my throat. “Well, for now, I guess we should try to slow things down. I don’t want to rush with you.”
“I don’t want to rush with you, either,” she said, squeezing my hand. “It still hasn’t been long since you broke off your engagement and I…I don’t want to be a rebound.”
What she said caused a sharp pain in my gut. I made sure to put as much meaning into my voice as possible. “You could never be a rebound, Michaela. Nev
er.”
“Okay,” she said quietly, just as the waitress arrived with our food. “I believe you.”
So it was agreed. We’d take things slow, see what happens naturally. Considering how much I wanted to take her back to the hotel and hole up in her room for the remainder of the trip, I sensed it was easier said than done.
After breakfast, we decided on a whim to take a bus tour around the city. I enjoyed spending the morning with Michaela, just the two of us. We talked and talked, a new comfort forming between us. After the tour, we went to meet Paul and headed to the abandoned warehouse in Queens, where we were considering shooting an episode.
“I’m exhausted,” Paul said when we were on our way back to the hotel. “Last night really took it out of me. I think I’m just going to order room service and get an early night. You two should go out though. Autumn gave me the name of a Lebanese restaurant she says is amazing.”
“That Autumn is full of recommendations,” I said.
“Well, she lives here so it goes without saying that she’d know a lot of places. Here, let me send you the address.”
A moment later, my phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at Michaela, thinking maybe having dinner out wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It could be our first official evening date.
“What do you think?” I asked her. “You in the mood for Lebanese food?”
She smiled. “I never say no to hummus.”
***
“You look beautiful tonight,” I said after the waitress cleared the plates from the baklava we just shared. Michaela flushed and I enjoyed her reaction. Then I felt her knee brush mine under the table and that contact alone sent my blood rushing south.
We’d spent the entire meal swapping stories from our childhoods, mine in an urban landscape, hers a rural one, yet there were still so many things we could relate to. Like always going on holidays close to home, never abroad, or being made to do chores in return for pocket money. We came from very different families, but there was still so much common ground.
Ever since she came to work for us, Michaela quickly grew to be one of my favourite people to spend time with. She made me laugh at her jokes, held my interest with interesting facts and things she’d come across in her reading. All of my affection for her as a person slowly grew into romantic interest and now, sexual attraction. It was a heady combination.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I watched her walk through the restaurant, the urge to follow her strong. I rejected the idea. Public bathroom sex probably wasn’t what it seemed like in movies. You’re taking things slow, remember? The angel on my shoulder urged, while the devil prodded at me to follow my baser instincts. I sat there, indecisive, then impulsively I pulled out my wallet and left some cash on the table to pay the bill.
Michaela was just leaving the ladies’ bathrooms when she saw me approach. Her throat moved as she swallowed, colour tinging her cheeks.
“What are you…”
I gripped the back of her neck, my eyes on her mouth. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” I said, but she only stared at me, a sultry look in her eyes.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered and less than a second later my mouth was on hers. All through dinner I’d wanted to do this. It was unexplainable how much I wanted her. Sure, I had a healthy libido, but this was on a whole other level. I couldn’t get her out of my thoughts.
Our tongues melded and my body hummed for her. I could’ve hitched up her skirt and been inside her in seconds if it weren’t for the fact we were in the corridor of a restaurant filled with people. We broke apart for breath and I saw her arousal.
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” she breathed, sliding her hand into mine.
I studied her, trying to decipher what she was thinking as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What about taking things slow?”
“We’ve known each other for months, James. A part of me wants to go slowly, but another part just wants to…”
“Just wants to what?” I asked, a crack in my voice.
She blinked, her fathomless brown eyes on mine. “I want to know what you feel like and I don’t want to wait.”
The surety in her expression convinced me. I didn’t question it because being with her felt so completely natural.
“Come on then,” I said, tugging on her hand.
“What about the bill?” she asked as we passed through the restaurant.
“I already paid it,” I answered, leading her outside. The city was alive in a completely different way, transitioning from day to night. Yellow taxis filled the roads, the lights of the buildings glittering in the dark.
“Should we hail a taxi?” Michaela asked, a waft of her intoxicating perfume hitting my nose.
“Not yet,” I replied, scanning the street before leading her over to a set of traffic lights. I didn’t let go of her hand as we crossed the street, entering a large pharmacy.
Michaela was quiet as I searched the shelves. I wanted to know what she felt like, too. I knew we should be taking our time, but sometimes life felt too short, too finite, not to do what you wanted in the moment. With Michaela, my caveman instincts took over. All I wanted to do was claim. When she leaned close, nuzzling her nose into my neck, it was all I could do to keep from growling.
Finally, I found what I was looking for. I plucked up the small packet of condoms and went to the counter to pay, all the while keeping Michaela’s hand in mine. There was a queue and she surprised me when she pulled my mouth to hers for a quick, intense kiss while we waited.
“Next!” the store assistant yelled.
We broke apart, both breathing fast. The woman at the counter rolled her eyes at us, but I didn’t care. By the time we got back to the hotel, the electricity had mounted to the point where I could hardly keep my hands off Michaela. Alone inside the lift, we pounced on one another. I kissed and nipped at her neck while her hands came up to grip my shoulders and my body screamed to take her right there and then.
Finally, finally we got to her room. I slammed the door shut before pulling her to me. I kissed her hungrily, like I couldn’t get close enough. We were both wearing far too many clothes.
I was about to start tearing off her coat when my phone rang loudly in my pocket. I’d forgotten to turn off the ringtone. I pulled it out to put it on silent then saw my sister’s name on the screen. Shanise only ever called if it was important. She hated talking on the phone and considered it a personal affront if you tried calling her instead of sending a text.
I looked to Michaela, regretful. “This might be important. I should answer it.”
“That’s okay,” she said as I hit ‘answer’ and brought the phone to my ear.
“Shanise,” I said, eyes on Michaela as she slipped off her coat and went to sit on the bed.
“James, it’s Dad,” Shanise sobbed. “He’s in a bad way. I think I might need you to come home.”
Just like that, my mood shifted, every part of me on edge. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
Twenty-Two
Michaela
James and his brother and sisters didn’t realise their father had been using alcohol to cope with their mum’s death. Not until Shanise found him unconscious on the living room floor. She called an ambulance and he was taken to the hospital, where he was currently having his stomach pumped. He’d been binge drinking in secret to deal with his grief.
Just thinking about it made my chest hurt.
There was still no news on whether or not he was going to be okay, but we didn’t waste any time. James booked a seat on the next available flight back to London and I’d just sent him off in a taxi that would take him to the airport.
I ached, both at the loss of him and the terrible situation he was heading to.
The last hour felt surreal. One minute we were in my hotel room, about to have sex, and the next, he was in a rush to get home to his dad. He looked bereft, and my heart was heavy for him. Ja
mes couldn’t lose another parent in such a short space of time. He just couldn’t.
Now I was in my room, feeling completely alone. Having spent the last few days wrapped up in James, the solitariness was so much more pronounced. I’d been lost in how he consumed me, how larger than life he was, how amazing it felt to know he wanted to start something with me.
Now I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
I worried about the break in our connection. What would happen when I saw him next? It felt strange to go back and continue living in his house now that we were entering into a relationship. Maybe I should move back to the flat. I had been missing my friends and the house was almost complete. There really was no reason for me to stay. At the same time, the idea of leaving made me sad. I’d grown attached to the house, despite knowing James was going to sell it.
Eventually I managed to get a few hours’ sleep. The first thing I did when I woke up was check my phone. There was one message.
James: Landed safely. Dad’s stable. On my way to see him now. Miss you. x
Me: So glad your dad’s okay. Call me if you need anything. And take care of yourself. Miss you, too. x
After I got dressed, I went down the corridor to Paul’s room and filled him in on everything. Well, not everything. I didn’t tell him anything about James and me. I knew we’d have to tell everyone eventually, especially if we were going to put my plan for me to stop working for him into action. But that could wait.
I spent the rest of the morning emailing photos and location information to the Running on Air showrunner, Barry. Paul and I just had a few more locations to visit today and then we’d fly home tomorrow. I was eager to see James, but I was also mentally coming up with a plan of action. When I landed I’d go to the house, pack my things and move back to the flat. Then I’d go see James, see how his Dad was holding up.
I thought of my own father and how great he was to talk to. He’d counselled many of his parishioners through grief over the years. I wondered if maybe he could talk to James’ dad. He and Mum were coming to London next week to visit me for my birthday. They were taking me out to dinner and I was really looking forward to it since I hadn’t seen them in months.