by Jo Watson
I walked onto the balcony and had a seat on the huge daybed. The apartment building was on top of a hill in the suburb of Killarney. I’d have never been able to live in such a place if I had saved my entire salary for a whole decade. With their successful restaurant and its cabaret and comedy shows, they’d done really well for themselves, and their penthouse suite, with its incredible view of Jo’Burg, was a testament to that. I sat there watching the flickering city lights until I felt tired. I knew I would really benefit from an early night.
Another shower finally rid me of the pesky glitter. It was winter, so I bundled myself up in my big pink fluffy gown with heart-shaped print—a gift from my “dads” for Valentine’s Day—and climbed into bed and closed my eyes. But, as soon as I did, the thoughts came pouring back. How was it possible to have such contradictory feelings about a guy? I was so physically attracted to him, yet repulsed at the same time. Well, repulsed might not be the right word, but downright pissed. He’d carried my panties around and then given them to me at work! At work! In an envelope? Who does that?
He’d been all sexy and seductive and pervy, something I decided I should dislike terribly about him—even if it had driven me wild. But he had saved me from possible death by choking. God, I hated him for turning me into such a pathetic puddle of hormones.
Vampira was right about him—she was seldom right about anything. She actually believed in real vampires and ran a Facebook fan page for them. But she was right about this.
He was so weird.
Which made him even more mysterious and sexy.
Aaaagggh! I was driving myself mental. I needed a good night’s sleep. I was sure the hangover and lack of sleep were contributing to my usually rational brain being nowhere to be found. I really just needed to stop obsessing.
Everything would be clearer and better in the morning …
8. I Was Just Thinking About You …
The next evening after work, I walked into his office. No, I strode in. I felt confident and sexy and in charge. I locked the door behind me and drew the blinds.
“Take off your clothes,” I said.
He looked up at me, his eyes going wide with shock.
“I said, take off your clothes.”
He smiled—a sexy, dark, broody, naughty, beastly smile.
“Sure thing, ma’am,” he said, peeling off his black suit. The jacket slipped to the floor, the tie was tossed to the other end of the room and he started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the dark crisscrossing lines of his tattoos. His chest was now completely bare. He was muscular. Very. Not in a greasy body builder sort of way but in that defined I-want-to-trace-all-those-lines-with-my-tongue kind of way.
“Now your pants.” I pointed at his trousers as he unbuttoned, unzipped, de-belted and dropped them to the floor. Then he stepped out of them and walked closer to me.
“These too?” he asked as he stuck his fingers under the elastic of his underwear and pulled them open to give me a little peep. I inhaled sharply.
“Yes.”
He walked over to me.
“You take them off …” he said as he leaned towards me.
I swallowed hard. “Okay …”
My trembling fingers reached out and—
“AAAHHHHHH!” I woke up with a jolt covered in sweat and breathing rapidly. What the hell? What the hell?
I jumped out of bed, ran for the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. My mouth was horribly dry and I was actually shaking from the dream—that’s how real it felt. The clock on the wall said 2:30 a.m.—how ironic. That was the exact time last night that Ben and I had been at it. I had a sudden fearful vision of waking up at this exact time for the rest of my life, as if the memory of the encounter had somehow seeped into my cells, rewritten my DNA and was now altering my internal clock.
I paced up and down the lounge a few times in a state of exhaustion, confusion and agitation. I needed a cold shower!
But as soon as I turned on the tap, I came to my senses—it was the middle of winter for heaven’s sake. I didn’t need to send myself into hypothermic shock, I just needed sleep—Ben-free sleep. So I climbed back into bed and closed my eyes, but a sudden noise made me sit up again.
The noise was coming from the apartment next door and the wall separating us was right behind my bed. I knew that someone had just moved in next door. I put my ear to the wall. The noise started up again and was even louder this time. It sounded like someone was dragging furniture across the wooden floors. I turned on the light and stared at the wall, as if I could send hate beams directly to the inconsiderate ass disturbing my sleep at this ungodly hour. But I clearly had no such power because another noise soon cut through the silence. This time it was a loud bang, like a chair being knocked over.
I put my ear to the wall again and was almost instantly rendered deaf as someone started drilling into the wall—
“Hey!” I called out and banged on the wall with my fist, but there was no way they were going to hear me over the grind of metal boring into concrete. It seemed to go on for ages. As soon as there was a vague reprieve, it started up again.
I had to do something. I could either phone Raymond, the unpleasant and slightly mad eighty-nine-year-old caretaker, or I could deal with it myself.
When I heard a giant crash, as if a mirror had just been shattered, my mind was made up. Pissed off and tired, I stormed out the front door and marched down the hallway. This new neighbor wasn’t off to a good start. What were they up too? A home make-over in the a.m.? I reached number six and knocked.
There were stacks of cardboard boxes outside and it was obvious that they were still in the process of moving in. Still, that was no excuse. I must have knocked about ten times, and with each knock my patience grew thinner. I finally gave up and tried the handle and the door opened. I took one small step inside …
“Hello!” I said. I figured I’d better call out before barging inside—unlike some people, I wasn’t rude. But when after the fifth call I’d still had no reply, I felt well within my rights to investigate. I walked straight down a long corridor to the spare bedroom—the penthouses were all laid out the same—the drilling and banging were getting louder with each step. When I reached the room, the door was slightly ajar, and again I thought the polite thing to do would be to knock once more. So I did. And again. And again.
Fuck this. “I’m coming in,” I said. And I did. Then I saw him standing on a ladder in his underwear—
“YOU!” I pointed and stammered.
He turned and looked at me, shirtless, sweaty and wearing a smile. “Well, hello, Sera. What a coincidence. I was just thinking about you.”
9. That Picture Is Skew …
Several extremely puzzling thoughts were running through my mind as I stood there staring at him—okay, the lower half of him. I mean, he was wearing the exact same underwear from my dream, how was that even possible?—I closed my eyes a few times and opened them again to make sure he was really there. I pinched my cheeks too, but he was still there. This wasn’t a dream.
But why was he here? And why the hell was he doing home improvements in his underwear? And in the middle of the night? I didn’t even know where to begin my line of questioning, so I said the first thing that came to mind.
“That picture is skew,” I said, pointing at the framed picture on the wall behind him.
Ben climbed down the ladder slowly and walked right up to me. He turned to face the wall and looked. “I believe you’re right. Thanks.”
He climbed back up the ladder and readjusted the picture—I’m not even going to even try and explain what Ben looks like when he climbs a ladder in his underwear. There are just no words in any dictionary, in any modern or ancient or alien language that would do the spectacle justice. Trust me on this.
Once he’d straightened the picture, he turned, sat on the top step, crossed his legs and looked at me as if he was totally unperturbed. As if he was somehow completely separate from this reality and was
on his own weird wavelength. It was as if nothing about the current situation was even vaguely bizarre to him. I opened my mouth a few times to try and say something, but I just ended up staring at him as he pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear, lit it, took a drag and let the smoke tumble seductively out his mouth. I suddenly pictured this moment being captured by a photographer in black and white and hung in some French gallery for a whole bunch of pretentious, vaping hipsters to admire and appreciate as modern art.
“You shouldn’t smoke,” I finally managed. “It’s bad for you.” I said this even though I was totally transfixed by it. It took the whole bad boy thing he had going on to an entirely different level.
“So they say,” he said as he took the cigarette from his mouth and put it out on the top step of the ladder and stepped back down towards me.
“It’s winter,” I added. “You should put clothes on, you could get a cold”—another fricking stupid thing to say.
“Yes, Mom,” he said as he took another step closer to me, prowling like a wild animal about to pounce. I had a momentary lapse in sanity when my eyes met his, my mouth opened and a little breathy sound came out.
Snap out of it!
“Okay. Stop. Stop right there. Stop that walking or whatever it is that you’re doing immediately.” I pointed at him.
He stopped and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Ahhhhh,” I gasped out loud and slapped my hands over my mouth in total shock—he’d said that in my dream too. Did he possess some kind of sexual, supernatural superpower that made him able to manipulate women’s dreams?
“Stay back,” I said, fully aware that I looked like a crazed woman backing away from a criminal, but if I didn’t keep him at bay, I was almost certain he would have me bent over that ladder—and I probably wouldn’t object.
Ben burst out laughing and held his arms in the air like he was under arrest—images of handcuffs flashed through my mind.
“So how long did it take you to find me?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“To find me? Have you been running around the city knocking on doors looking for me all night?” He flashed me an iceberg-melting smile.
“What! NO! You think I’ve been looking for you?” Ben was definitely the most arrogant, cocky and self-assured person I’d ever met—God, it was hot. And so fucking annoying too. “I can assure you I haven’t.”
“Joking again, Sera.”
Thanks to all the distracting hot nakedness, I’d almost forgotten why I’d come here in the first place. “Well, forgive me if I don’t have a sense of humor at two in the morning after being woken up by a drill in my ear,” I said with as much venom as possible.
He watched me for a few seconds while some cogs turned in his head, “You live there?” He pointed to the wall looking genuinely shocked. “Seriously? You live there?”
“Yes, on the other side of the wall you’ve been drilling into for the past half hour.”
Ben blinked a few times before bursting out laughing, a big hearty laugh. “Well, it’s official,” he said. “I’m never going to be able to sleep again knowing that only a few inches separate us.”
I swallowed hard, and my breath caught in my throat as I too pondered the implications.
“Some people at the office think you don’t sleep anyway,” I said, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.
“Really? What else do people think?” he asked with a knowing smile, as if he was used to such rumors and stories following him around.
I debated whether to say it or not but decided I would so he would know that I knew what kind of man he was. “I heard you ‘nailed,’” I gestured air commas, directly quoting the IT guys, “all the women in your last office.” I immediately felt silly for using that ridiculous word.
“Nailed?” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Well, you know what I mean,” I said.
“No, I actually don’t.” He took a step forward. “What is this ‘nailed’?” He copied my air commas in a decidedly mocking way.
I shook my head. “You’re incorrigible! You know exactly what I mean, you’re just trying to get me to say it.”
“Incorrigible?” A tiny chuckle escaped his lips. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me that before.”
“Well, they should have,” I folded my arms belligerently.
“So let’s get back to this supposed ‘nailing,’ I’m meant to have done.” He was mocking me now, and not even trying to hide it.
I shook my head. “Okay, fucked. Screwed. Banged. How’s that? Better?”
He smiled. “Do you think I fucked, screwed and banged all the women in my last office?” He ended the question with a slow, mischievous smile, and a deadly glint flashed in his eyes; it stole my breath.
“I wouldn’t know.” I swallowed, my mouth was so damn dry. “People have been saying a lot of different things about you.”
“Well, what do you think?” he asked as he met my eyes.
“About what?”
“What do you think about me?”
“Um … What do you mean?”
He’d started walking forward again, and I continued my backwards shuffle.
“Be careful of that box,” he said, pointing behind me just as I was about to walk into it. But I kept on going, retreating while he continued moving forward.
“You walk backwards a lot,” he finally said with another smile that could melt the entire polar ice cap.
“Well, you walk forwards a lot.” Great retort, Sera. Real genius one there!
“So what do you think of me, Sera?”
I stopped walking, considering that this might actually be a great opportunity to re-draw my line in the sand. I could make it quite clear to him that we would never have sex again—although I’m sure I’d be tempted—and make it clear that things should remain professional at all times—despite the unprofessional images flashing through my mind right now.
“Honestly?” I asked.
“One hundred percent.”
“Okay. I think you’re arrogant.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard that before.”
“And cocky.”
He nodded again.
“And you’re clearly a flirt. You’ve got all the women in the office whipped—”
He cut me off, “Do I have you whipped?”
I tisked loudly. “Absolutely not.”
“Anything else?”
I collected myself. “You’re obviously very good at what you do,” I said. “And you seem very professional—like me—and I’m sure we will become very good colleagues.”
“I’m sure we will,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the doorway in that cool, relaxed I-don’t-give-a-crap way.
“Um … I have to go now. Early meeting, you know. Need my sleep.”
His demeanor changed somewhat. “Right. I’m really sorry for waking you. The landlord—what a flaming weirdo that guy is, by the way,” he said, suddenly seguing and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought he was going to strip search me when I came into the building.”
“He’s pretty mad, wait until you come to the next body corporate meeting …” I stopped myself mid-sentence. I didn’t want to encourage more conversation.
“I bet!” Ben smiled again. Nothing melted this time but it did give me a very warm fuzzy feeling. “Anyway, he said the neighbors were a gay couple, so I assumed there’d be no children staying in the second bedroom.”
“Nope,” I said as I continued to walk towards the door, “I’m the child.”
“Well, sorry again, Sera.” Stop saying my name. Stop saying my name.
I gave him one last little nod as I walked into the corridor.
“Sera,” he called after me. “Please close the door behind you.”
“Sure,” I called back without turning around.
“And Sera …” he called again. “Go out with me?”
I stopped dead in my
tracks as his words stunned me into some strange silence. I paused for a moment before swiveling around and looking at him.
“What did you say?”
“Dinner? I’m a really good cook.”
I shook my head involuntarily. “Sorry? What?”
“A date. Go out with me?” He smiled again—more warm fuzzies.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” He started walking towards me again, but this time I didn’t move—couldn’t move—my feet felt like they’d frozen into the floor. He walked all the way up to me, stopped and then placed his body casually against the wall in another lethal lean.
“Why not?”
“Well, firstly, you’re my boss, and secondly, I don’t date.”
“I don’t believe that.”
It was true actually. I didn’t date. My life was way, way too complicated already that there was hardly any space for it. Certainly no time. And anyone who got involved with me would need to know about my family and all the craziness they brought, not to mention the tiresome responsibilities that came with them. My last boyfriend hadn’t been able to handle all the very regular drama.
“I don’t.” I said firmly. “And certainly not my boss.”
“Well …” The word came out slowly and deliberately. “I look forward to trying to change your mind then.” Again, he seemed so unperturbed by everything, as if he existed in an alternate universe that obeyed a different set of physical laws. He spoke with an absolute confidence that was both sexy and slightly scary.
“Not going to happen.”
“Wait and see.”
I was almost about to exit when a sudden thought stopped me in my tracks.
Out of all the women he could choose? All the women that are a million times hotter and far, far cooler than me?
“Why me?” I turned and glared at him. “Why me?”
“I told you already. I’m totally in love.”
I burst out laughing. “Does that line really work on women?” I felt all fired up now and stepped back inside. “Oh babe, you’re the best,” I said, imitating him now in my best arrogant man voice. “Yeah, you’re so sexy it’s killing me, babe. You’re so beautiful. I need you. I want you. I love you. How many other women have you pulled those lines on?”