by Zee Monodee
No, work was a far better alternative to lose oneself into. Work, and a soft, willing woman.
Get a grip on yourself, mate.
The vision of Neha’s creamy skin danced to the forefront of his cognition. He could picture himself dipping his head and licking the damning hint of spaghetti sauce from her décolleté.
He could also see himself doing a hell of a lot more, such as kissing her, all over, and making small, gasping and erotic sounds come out of her beautiful mouth—
Bloody hell!
Coffee. He definitely needed coffee. As well as the biggest possible distance between him and the temptation such a woman represented to his libido and his sanity.
Nothing you can do there. He had truly run himself into a corner.
As he pushed his chair back, the legs scraped across the thick carpet. He glanced down and chuckled at the deep lines where his chair legs always dug into the material. Very soon, he would be able to ask for an office renovation. How that would grate on Griffin and his tight-purse ways.
The thought brought a smile to his face and some lightness to his day. If things got any worse, he didn’t know what he’d do. He’d reached the end of his tether, a human ruin.
Ambling out into the lobby and then down the corridor, he glanced across the newsroom as he passed in front of it, catching sight of Neha at her desk. She appeared engrossed in her task, scribbling away with one hand as she rummaged through the scattered sheets in front of her with the other.
He paused in his step to continue looking at her, but then, he caught himself. It had been about a week since he’d been to her house, and heavy tension still lingered between them. Yet, at the same time, the air around them hung different, less charged with animosity, and both he and Neha no longer felt the need to tiptoe around one another.
He didn’t want to dwell any further on the new rapport between them. He had no idea what it would reveal, and he didn’t want to find out, either.
He already had her enough on his mind.
Taking purposeful steps, he strolled towards the kitchen at the back of the corridor. He found Griffin there, seated at the large rectangular table in the middle of the brightly lit room. With his blue shirt and blond hair, Griff could melt into the décor of the kitchen, its scheme being one of light yellow and pale blue. Logan gave a small laugh when he realized it.
“Finally tore yourself away from your log books?” he said in a teasing tone as he stepped towards the coffeemaker on the laminated top-board counter lining the left wall.
Reaching for the coffee pot, he groaned. The jug was nearly empty. He hated coffee dregs. The pot used to be full at this time of the day. But, then again, Marge, the woman who looked after the kitchen, had called in sick. No one had refilled the coffee after the morning run. Logan glared at the coffeemaker. His coffee always came out like black tar.
“Looking for something to drink?” Griff asked.
“Yeah.” He growled the word. “There’s no coffee.”
“There’s an instant mix in one of those cupboards. However, Neha will come in for her tea in five minutes, and she makes great tea.”
Logan rummaged in the overhead cupboards.
“So, what do you suggest? Ask her to make me some coffee?” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.
“No. But her tea is worth it.”
He stopped in his search, banging the door closed when he failed to find the coffee mix in the third cupboard. Throwing a glance at his best friend, it dawned on him why Griffin hung around the employees’ kitchen. “You’re a goner for her tea, eh. So you’ll wait for her to come by and ask her to make you a cuppa?”
Griffin shrugged, though his pale face coloured. “What’s wrong with it? She loves that I like her tea.”
“Sure.”
Neha loved to care for all and sundry. Hadn’t she baked a cake for Bryan, their most popular RJ, on his birthday a few days ago? She came as close to a mother hen as he’d ever met one.
And yet, he’d seen a different woman in her, one burning with a simmering, almost repressed, passion inside. He loved to imagine how her cheeks coloured so easily under the strain of strong, intense emotions. Let anyone dare tell him she didn’t spontaneously combust when making love. He refused to believe a hot-blooded woman didn’t lurk inside her voluptuous body.
Logan leaned his hip against the counter, his hands flat on the smooth surface as he closed his eyes. Bad line of thought, mate.
The sharp click of high heels resounded on the linoleum floor. Logan opened his eyes, and a flash of red whizzed past him. With sudden insight, he moved out of the way seconds before a cupboard door would’ve slammed into the side of his head.
Rushing over to the table, he gave Griffin a confused glance, only to find Griff return an equally bewildered shrug.
Logan returned his gaze back to the other side of the room. A lithe, petite woman moved in front of the counter, her back to them. She slammed the cupboards open and shut one after the other, her movements brisk and brimming with unleashed fury. When she turned to face them, fire burned in her dark, almond-shaped eyes. Slowly but surely, her face was turning as red as the flowing, jagged-edged dress she wore.
She stood with her hands on her hips, and Logan took a step back under her penetrating gaze. As he struggled with his memory to put a name to her pretty face, he recognized her as one the station’s feature anchors.
“You men are such jerks,” she said in a slow hiss.
Griffin stood. “Vanessa, what’s the matter?”
“Don’t move.” She pointed a finger at them. “I’ve had it with you lot. You all think women are silly creatures and we’ll never know of your little games and ...”
With every word, Vanessa’s bravado failed. Her shoulders sagged, and she hiccupped as her voice dwindled down. She snaked a hand out to clutch the back of a chair and let out a blood-curdling shriek as tears streamed down her face and she bawled her heart out.
The two men exchanged a glance. Vanessa’s screams got louder; yet, they both stood rooted to the spot.
As panic rose inside Logan like steam in a pressure cooker, he darted a quick glance towards the door. How would he escape? And bugger, what the hell was all this about?
*
The wails hit Neha’s ears as she approached the kitchen.
What was going on in there? Quickening her step as much as her voluminous skirt would allow her, she reached the threshold.
Logan and Griffin stood opposite her, immobile as statues, the horror in their eyes the only thing betraying that they were still alive.
She followed their gazes to the reason behind the horrendous miserable sounds. Vanessa, their Agony Aunt, stood crying her eyes out. From the look of it, she’d say the girl appeared to be in some major crisis, and the men in the room had reached their breaking point. It wasn’t simply horror in their eyes, but also panic—they had the deer-caught-in-the-headlights air about them.
And if she didn’t do something, things would get worse. “What happened?”
Griffin stammered something.
She wouldn’t coax anything logical out of him. Turning to Logan, she asked the question again.
He stared at her for long seconds, then snapped out of his stance and pointed at Vanessa.
“I have absolutely no idea,” he said. “She came in, apparently intent on breaking everything in her anger, and after giving us a verbal lashing, she burst into tears.”
From the sound of it, they were dealing with a broken-hearted, spiteful woman. Vanessa had proven to be of the flamboyant kind, and she always did things in heaps. This same exuberance, combined with a startling wisdom no one credited her with at first glance, had earned her the advice slot. Though Neha would say the wisdom had gone AWOL right then.
Walking over to the girl, she placed her hands on her shoulders and then looked up at Logan. “What did she say?”
He grimaced. “She called us jerks.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And that�
��s what you call a verbal lashing?”
He shrugged. “What have we done?”
“What have you not done, you and your kind?” Vanessa shouted.
Both men jumped back. Under any other circumstance, Neha would’ve laughed ’til she turned blue in the face. To see the mighty Logan Warrington reduced to such a useless wall of muscle was something unusual, indeed. But there were more pressing matters at hand.
“Van, calm down. It’s Neha, okay, darling? Here,” she said as she pulled a chair and pressed with a soft touch on the girl’s shoulder. “Sit down. I’ll make some tea.”
She handed her a tissue she’d snatched from the roll dangling from a hanger on the wall.
Busying herself with placing the kettle to boil and finding teabags in the second cupboard, she then turned to Logan and Griffin. “I’ll handle this. Will you guys please leave us alone for a little while? Don’t let anyone come in until I say so.”
They nodded and left. Alone with Vanessa, she made tea and then brought two cups with her to the table, to settle one in front of the other woman. “Have a sip. It’ll do you good.”
Vanessa drank a little, stopping to sniff into the tattered remains of the tissue she clutched in her hand.
“Wanna talk about it?” Neha asked as she sat down.
Vanessa shook her head. But when the tears started again, she let out a small whisper. “How could he do this?”
A trickle of foreboding slid down Neha’s spine, and she glanced at the girl’s left hand. She groaned; no diamond solitaire there.
“How could he do this to me? To us?” Vanessa asked. “I couldn’t believe it. Yet, I saw them together. And it’s been going on for so long.”
Neha didn’t answer. She shouldn’t interfere, or pry, yet.
The other girl threw her hands up. “He’s been sleeping with her all the time. His ex-girlfriend, who had supposedly cheated on him.”
“What did you do?” Neha asked.
Vanessa took a deep breath, her lip quivering. “I walked out. Threw his ring back at him. There can be no wedding now. Now I only wish I’d hit them both, he and his smug cow.”
Neha reached out and clasped the girl’s hand. “Darling, you’re better off without someone who uses you and takes you for granted.”
“Ha!”
“It’s true. Just imagine. If someone had called in and told you about such a situation, what would you have suggested?”
Vanessa’s eyes drew to slits. “Cut his balls?”
Neha gave a short laugh. She could very well see where the girl was coming from. “And then?”
“Ransack his place?”
“Actually, sweetie, this would work for a movie scenario, but it’s real life we’re talking about. Where would it leave you, then?”
“I dunno.”
The words came out as whispers in the ominous silence of the kitchen. For once, even the loudspeakers broadcasting the station’s shows had gone silent.
“It leaves you nowhere. But if you pick yourself up and look down on him, by getting on with your life, it would be the best kick in the arse you could give him.”
Vanessa remained pensive, and then, she nodded. “I think you’re right.”
“So, you feel up to handling today’s show?”
The young woman got up and smiled. “You bet. I need to dash by the restroom and get myself together first.”
“So go ahead, then.”
She laughed when Vanessa came over and engulfed her in a hug.
Once the Agony Aunt had left the kitchen and disappeared down the corridor, she let her head drop into the palms of her hands.
“How the hell did you do that?”
She glanced up at Logan standing across from her, his hands on his hips and utter disbelief etched on his features. Griffin appeared from behind his broad back a few seconds later.
“Do what?” she asked with a sigh as a heavy weight crashed onto her shoulders and piled her into her chair.
“Vanessa,” Griffin said. “She smiled at us on the way out.”
Men. They’d never understand women. Vanessa had needed a shoulder to cry on and another heart to share her plight with. Neha had done nothing more than provide an ear. But to her bosses, it would probably seem like a Herculean task. “She just needed to get it out of her.”
They gave her puzzled stares, and each drew a chair to sit down. Neha stifled a grin. They looked like they’d battled a monster from out of this world. And to think they’d only stood there like huge chunks of rocks.
But there were still many things to be done, especially where Vanessa was concerned. After walking over to the phone on the far wall near the fridge, she picked it up and punched in the extension for Cecilia, the features editor who handled Vanessa’s slot. In a few brief words, she informed her of the situation and told her of a proposed course of action.
Coming back to the table after cutting the call, she eyed her cold cup of tea with distaste and poured it into the sink. “Anyone want a cuppa?”
“I do.” Griffin shot a hand up.
She nodded. “Logan?”
“No, thanks. I’m not much of a tea drinker.”
“Coffee?”
He frowned, as if surprised. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” She turned back to the cupboards to fish the jar of instant coffee from the back of one.
A few minutes later, she slid a cup and saucer in front of Griffin and a large mug in front of Logan. Both mumbled their thanks like shy children with their grown-up teacher.
Did she find it funny? Maybe. The aura of uncertainty hovering around Logan like an invisible cloak staggered her. It made her believe a human being sat there instead of the brick and steel hulk he projected himself to be. The notion struck in as unsettling, playing with her mind and heart in a curious game of catch.
Griffin took a sip of his tea. “Neha, this is awesome. Blimey, I think we’ll have to give you a new title now. How does ‘crisis resolution manager’ sound?”
She tilted her head back and laughed. “Griff, no offence, but I’m sure it’s such a big title, it’s actually hollow.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Logan cut in with a calm voice.
She snapped her head up. What was wrong with him? She’d sensed a slight change in him for the past week, ever since they’d had the conversation in her house. He seemed more relaxed around her.
No, relaxed wasn’t how she’d put it. Less guarded, perhaps. Still, a balance had shifted between them. Had it tipped the scales in her favour? She didn’t know, and didn’t want to know, really. Working with Logan so far had been predictable and professional. If their personal relationship changed, it would definitely affect their work situation, and she refused to risk that. She disliked change, and after the upheavals of the past couple of years, she’d had her fair share of turmoil.
If only she could say so much for the doubt and ambiguity plaguing her thoughts. Would it banish them away? Night had become a time she dreaded, for with it came nightmares and other twisted conceptions of her subconscious. These left her either in tears or bathed in sweat, her body shivering as she drew the quilt around her in her empty bed. At other times, she wondered what it would be like to have a big, tanned body with a beautiful tattoo on the right arm there with her ...
An involuntary shiver racked her, and she startled out of her thoughts, jumping as she suddenly realized where she sat and what direction her thoughts had taken.
Neha gasped under Logan’s intent gaze on her. She risked a glance at his hands, his long fingers curled around the heavy ceramic handle. He had a strong grip; yet, something told her he could also be gentle.
Somehow, it made her wonder if gentleness from Logan would be sweeter, coming from such a big man.
“Coffee tastes good,” he said.
“Glad you like it,” she replied when she’d recovered enough to find her wits.
Dipping her head to her own cup, she took a sip of her scalding tea, grat
eful when the scorching heat burnt her tongue because it meant her focus could shift elsewhere.
“Seriously, how did you do it?” Griffin asked.
“Do what?” she questioned.
He nodded towards the door. “Vanessa. She looked like a fury when she came in here.”
“A cup of tea and some girl talk.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”
Griffin snorted. “Yeah. Right. You’re sure you’ve never been an Agony Aunt?”
Over the past few months, she’d found she enjoyed exchanging jokes and other playful banter with Griffin. “With my crazy family, you better know how to defuse conflicts. My mum is a time bomb waiting to explode.”
Logan chuckled, and she trained her gaze on him. He eyed her over the rim of his mug.
“So, with a cup of tea and some conversation, you find the solution for world peace.”
There hung a slight ironic tinge in his words, though he didn’t appear jaded or smug. Could this be his attempt at a joke?
Neha looked down into her cup, then she lifted her gaze back up to his. “You can find your own peace of mind. Maybe it’s the first step towards world peace, to feel good about yourself.”
He seemed to ponder her words before he acquiesced with a nod. “Might be.”
A blanket of silence fell on the three of them even as the music played in the background.
What had their last exchange been about? Logan was getting more and more enigmatic, and she didn’t know what this spelt out between them.
Shaking away the troubling feeling, she took a sip of her tea.
Griffin drained his cup and stood to leave. “Have to get back to the books now. Neha, tea was delicious.”
“Anytime you want some, come around.” She smiled at him as he left.
“You do realize he’s seriously smitten with you.”
“What?” she blurted out as she looked back at Logan.
“Griff’s eating out of your hand now.”
Neha closed her eyes. Just what she needed, Logan getting on her case again. What would he imagine next? That she’d snared Griffin?