Playing Irish

by Brooke Harris

  At the next stop, the elderly woman beside Eva got off, and the handsome stranger from the back of the carriage made his way toward the empty seat and sat down, his thigh brushing gently against Eva’s. He quickly apologised, and she smiled in return. She was beyond words, already undressing him in her mind. First, she caught his tie between her teeth and tugged it from around his neck then scurried to unbutton his shirt and reveal his tight abs. She was just about to grab his crotch when he leaned a little closer to her. She took a deep breath and savoured the smell of his rich, spicy aftershave.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked softly.

  Eva’s eyes sprung open. ‘Fine, yes…I’m fine,’ she stuttered, mortified.

  ‘It’s just you sound like you have bad asthma or something. I have an inhaler here if you need it,’ he said, reaching inside his jacket.

  Eva sank into her seat, blushing. ‘No, really. I am okay. Just a long day. But thank you.’

  ‘Where you from?’ he asked. ‘I like your accent.’

  Eva never thought of herself as having an accent. But in Dublin her New Jersey twang stood out like a sore thumb. And every time someone mentioned it, it reminded her that she was alone in a new city. She was a runaway.

  ‘This is my stop,’ Eva sighed. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  She stood up and felt the wet patch in her underwear press against her skin as she walked. Suddenly, she was glad she had worn mostly dark colours. She’d die if anyone could see her urgency because she was fantasising about a stranger from the internet.

  Eva raced to turn the key in her apartment door. The ache between her legs had now become an overwhelming need. She rushed to the bathroom, dropping a trail of her clothes behind her. She ran the shower and stepped inside. The water kissed her skin as she ran her hands all over her body. She shook a little inside. Who in the hell was Julian, she thought. And why was he taking over every thought she had?

  She spun around to face the faucet and turned the pressure higher. The water pounded against her breasts until her nipples stood erect and tingling. She reached between her legs and gently parted herself. She wanted to touch her clit without any distraction. She knew exactly how to touch it. Slow at first. Softly stroking the bud, just enough to make her muscles clench. She reached down with her other hand and pushed her middle finger inside. The muscle gripped her finger and pulsated hard on her hand. She wanted more; she needed more pressure. She gently pushed her index finger in, too. It hurt. She was so tight, it pinched, but in the best possible way. The pressure was intense. She rubbed her clit faster and rougher, gasping as it hardened beneath her finger until the spasm started. It was strong and pulled her forward as the walls of her pussy contracted strongly on her two darting fingers.

  She released her body from her grip and panted until she relaxed again. She sighed deeply and suddenly felt more alone than ever as the sound of the water raining down in her shower echoed in her otherwise silent apartment. It was all Julian’s, whoever-he-was, fault. How dare he flirt with her and then vanish, leaving her once again alone. She was angry, but not because he disappeared. She was furious because she cared.

  3

  Eva arrived at the office early the following morning. The glow of last night’s pleasure clung to her cheeks like a gentle slap. She was glad she had a busy morning ahead. She wouldn’t dare check her personal emails until the afternoon. She looked at her hand. No traces of Julian’s phone number remained. She’d accidently washed it off. Not that she cared, she decided. She wouldn’t have called him anyway. Not even when she pulled her skin in all directions with the hope of catching a faint glimmer of the digits.

  Meghan passed Eva’s desk, and although Eva looked up and tried to make eye contact, Meghan marched ahead, ignoring her. She carried a takeaway coffee from the posh barista place across the road. The smell teased Eva. She walked past the window every morning but never had the nerve to go inside. It was always full of impressive business types. Tall, handsome men in smart suits and pretty women in classy, work wear. Eva didn’t feel that she fit in. She had enough people who stared at her daily at work. She didn’t need it when ordering a simple cup of coffee, too.

  Meghan glided on her impressive, black patent high heels. They were so shiny, they caught the light, and their red sole clashed with her cerise camisole. Eva could never understand why people would pay outrageous amounts for designer shoes. She’d had the same pair of brown, leather slip-ons for months, and she wasn’t in any hurry to exchange them for something that made her walk like a chicken on stilts. Even if that chicken caught the eye of every man in a ten-mile radius. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She’d love a pair of seriously uncomfortable shoes.

  Meghan raced from desk to desk, gathering up all the important people in the office. The popular people. There were so many cliques in the office; it was worse than Eva’s old high school. When Meghan herded about five or six of the usual suspects into the boardroom, she slammed the door behind her and pulled the blinds. Eva wondered what was happening. Something important, no doubt, and she was as in the dark as always.

  That was it. Meghan’s office politics were driving Eva crazy, no matter how much Eva tried to tell herself she didn’t care. She did, of course, she did. It pushed her buttons. And Eva was certain Meghan was doing it on purpose, she just couldn’t figure out why. Eva typed up a strongly worded email and sent it to Meghan. Her finger hovered over the recall button for so long, she almost got a cramp but she finally closed her fist and pulled her hand away. She powered down her PC and stormed out of the office, shaking.

  Lunch came and went in a blur as usual. Eva added an extra lap to her jog at Phoenix Park. She was hot and sticky returning to the office and didn’t have time to grab a shower. She threw her work clothes back on in the downstairs restroom, leaving on her bright pink sports bra underneath. She sprayed some perfume down her clothes, even in her hair, and reluctantly headed back upstairs to her desk.

  The elevator doors opened to reveal Meghan sitting behind Eva’s desk, swinging from side to side on Eva’s swivel chair, her eyes narrow and burning into Eva. Eva’s palms became sweaty as she regretted the email she sent earlier. It was definitely easier to be assertive behind the safety of her PC than in person. She was suddenly far sweatier than her run had made her.

  ‘He wants to see you,’ Meghan said through gritted teeth as Eva approached her desk.

  ‘Who?’ Eva shook her head.

  An audible hiss rippled across the office and Eva felt the eyes of the entire floor scorch into her back.

  ‘Mr. Doe, Eva.’

  Eva wobbled a little, her legs suddenly objecting to holding the weight of her body.

  ‘He wants you in his office in five minutes!’

  Eva ran her hand over her sleek ponytail and straightened her skirt. Meghan didn’t acknowledge her dishevelled appearance.

  ‘Go, Eva. Did you hear what I said yesterday?’ Meghan rolled her eyes. ‘He’s not someone you keep waiting…okay?’

  Eva nodded so hard her neck cracked. She raced back to the elevator and it was only when she was standing alone behind the closed doors that she realised she wasn’t breathing. She needed this job. She couldn’t get fired. She’d be screwed financially. She couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong. But she also knew half the girls that Mr. Doe called upstairs never came back.

  With shaking fingers she pressed the button for the top floor and waited. She pulled the hair tie from her hair, turned her head upside down, and shook her head so hard, she almost fell over. Standing back up straight she felt more confident and mature with her hair down. It was something, at least. She pulled her cardigan tight across her chest. Yesterday’s coffee stain didn’t seem so bad now in contrast to her luminous, pink bra shining through the thin, white silk of her blouse. ‘Not today,’ she said, ‘…not today’.

  The décor was different on the top floor. It didn’t look like an office, more like an elegant foyer in a boutique hotel. It was intimidating and inviti
ng, all at the same time. The floor was a highly polished, cream porcelain and Eva’s loafers squeaked as she walked. The high overhead ceiling housed recessed lighting and the walls were splashed with hand painted murals that Eva could only imagine cost a small fortune. A large, teak reception desk sat alone at the end of the long corridor. There was no one there.

  A pretty chaise lounge sat opposite the desk, and two beige leather chairs called invitingly to her. She sat down for a moment, but quickly hopped back up when she heard laughter. It came from behind the intimidating, floor-to-ceiling double doors.

  Eva jumped as one of the doors creaked open. A tall, striking, strawberry-blonde appeared through a gap so narrow, Eva couldn’t see inside the room behind her. Eva instinctively looked her up and down. The top buttons of her blouse were undone and her long hair fell loosely around her face slightly mussed.

  Suddenly, Eva understood the laughter. It was stereotypical, she knew. The stuff of magazines and movies. ‘High powered business giants with bodies like boulders fuck stunning secretaries regularly to make themselves feel good. The secretaries go through the motions, thinking they’ll tame him; they’ll be the one. But he’s using them until the next younger model comes along.’

  ‘He’ll see you now,’ the secretary said walking around to stand behind the desk.

  Eva didn’t reply. She just nodded shyly.

  ‘Oh, don’t do that,’ the secretary warned.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘He hates people who don’t talk. You know, unsure types. Just be confident. Be yourself.’

  Eva felt a little vomit burn its way up her throat.

  ‘What am I saying? You don’t need my advice,’ the secretary said. ‘He wouldn’t have called you up here if he didn’t already know how good you are.’

  ‘Good?’ Eva swallowed.

  ‘At your job. He doesn’t see people. He never sees people.’

  He sees you, Eva thought.

  ‘It’s okay, go on in. He won’t bite, unless you want him to,’ the secretary winked.

  Eva shuffled awkwardly on the spot for a moment before tightening her cardigan across her chest and walking slowly toward the door.

  She knocked three times. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to knock so many times. Once just didn’t feel enough. No one answered. She looked back at the secretary, but she was on the phone, and Eva couldn’t catch her attention. She knocked again. The door slowly creaked open. It was unnervingly dark inside. Almost pitch, hard-to-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face dark. Eva struggled with her instinct telling her to turn back, but she counted slowly backwards from five and walked inside.

  ‘Close the door,’ a deep voice said, so softly, Eva had to strain to hear.

  She did as she was told. The slam of the heavy door echoed in the still room. She squinted and tried to adjust to the dim lighting. The carpet was soft beneath her feet, and she sank a little as she stood on the spot without moving.

  ‘Are you going to stand there all day?’ the voice said.

  Eva’s eyes were gradually adjusting to the darkness. She could see shadows and shapes in the distance. A desk at the back of the room, perhaps. Someone was sitting there. Their back was turned. She wondered if he would stand up at any moment and turn on the lights. She prepared herself.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘So, you are going to stay there, then?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Eva replied, instantly gritting her teeth at her pathetic response. She remembered the secretary’s advice. Say something, she begged herself. ‘Mr. Doe?’ she managed.

  ‘Were you expecting to find someone else?’ Mr Doe laughed.

  ‘No,’ Eva admitted. ‘I...I...I...’

  ‘Oh, I don’t have time for this,’ Mr. Doe groaned. ‘Goodbye.’

  Eva couldn’t see, but she could tell that he was waving his hand to dismiss her.

  ‘You want me to leave?’ she asked.

  ‘Isn’t that usually why people say goodbye?’

  ‘Yes. I s’pose.’ Eva shrugged.

  ‘You suppose. I’ve invited you into my office, my private space, and all you can say is suppose? Do you know how many people are begging for a moment of my time?’

  Eva shook her head.

  ‘Do you?’

  Dammit, she thought, remembering he couldn’t see her. Turn on the frickin’ lights.

  ‘No, no I don’t,’ she said firmly.

  It was true, she didn’t know. How could she possibly? Yes, she knew he was a multi-millionaire. Some whiz-kid who made a fortune with graphics for computer games by the time he was in his late teens. A decade later and he was amongst the wealthiest businessmen in the world with an app for almost everything. Eva wouldn’t be surprised if her next marketing campaign was for an app that told you when to breathe in and out.

  ‘At least you’re honest. How refreshing,’ Mr. Doe said.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude…’

  ‘Stop.’ Mr. Doe suddenly became stern and even deeper.

  ‘Let’s not tarnish our first impressions of each other with a pathetic apology that you don’t really mean, okay?’

  What first impressions? Eva couldn’t see a thing. Maybe he was hideously ugly or super short. He obviously had some sort of confidence issue because why else would he hide in the dark. Or call himself Mr. Doe. It was creepy.

  ‘Don’t ever apologise for your opinion,’ Mr. Doe said. ‘Everyone is entitled to an opinion. Unless, of course, you think yours is invalid. Do you?’

  Eva hoped it was a rhetorical question. There was no right answer, and just because Mr. Doe said she was entitled to an opinion didn’t mean he wanted to hear hers. She scanned the corners of the dark room for cameras. There didn’t seem to be any, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

  ‘Ms. Andrews, are you afraid?’

  ‘Afraid of what?’ Eva shook her head.

  ‘Me.’

  New Jersey flashed in Eva’s mind. And she remembered all the times she was afraid there. Ireland was supposed to be a fresh start. A place without fears.

  ‘No. I am not afraid of you,’ Eva said firmly, her accent a little thicker than usual as she tried hard to be irrefutable.

  ‘Good girl. Come, sit.’

  Eva walked toward the centre of the room where a single, wooden chair waited. There was a small, square table beside it. A shiny, crystal glass of champagne rested on top with an inviting plate of strawberries to the side.

  ‘Taste it,’ Mr. Doe suggested.

  Eva lifted the glass to her lips but stopped before she took a sip. Suddenly, it felt like a test. Was he checking if she would drink on the job? If she drank it, he might disapprove. And if she didn’t, she might insult him for the second time in ten minutes. Her head raced to meet the challenge. She tipped the glass a little more and then released her fingers from its slender stem. It dropped to the floor with a soft bang. A small crack ran along the side of the beautiful flute, and its contents lay spilled in a sparkling puddle around it.

  The shadow at the end of the room stood up and turned toward her. ‘Are you okay?’

  He sounded genuinely concerned. His voice was soft now and inviting, suddenly.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Eva said. ‘I’m so sorry about your carpet.’

  ‘You have to stop doing that. You can’t keep apologising for things that are out of your control, Ms. Andrews. Unless, of course, it’s your way of telling me you spilled it on purpose.’

  Eva realised that not much got past Mr. Doe. She decided that despite the secretary’s advice it was probably best to stay quiet. Irritating as that may be to Mr. Doe, it was better than apologising again, which was an instinct she couldn’t seem to control around him.

  ‘Okay, I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,’ he said dryly.

  Eva felt her heart sink. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting from the call to his office but whatever it was, this fell short.

  ‘Shelly has a box w
aiting for you in reception,’ Mr Doe said. ‘I would appreciate if you brought it to the ball with you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry…’ Eva bit her lip before finishing. If she said sorry one more time, she would slap herself. ‘I am not going, sir. I sent an email to Meghan earlier today explaining…’

  ‘I am aware of the email, Ms. Andrews. Why do you think you are here?’

  Eva’s jaw cracked as her mouth dropped open, and her hands flew to her face. Oh no, was he monitoring her emails? Of course…he was a computer wizard. He probably knew the personal conversations of every member of staff. Her whole body began to quiver as her conversation with Julian ran through her head. She imagined that Mr. Doe enjoyed a good laugh at her expense. No wonder he wouldn’t show his face. He probably couldn’t keep it straight. Her discomfort had just been multiplied by a million. She eyed up the door behind her. She wanted to run.

  ‘The ball is mandatory, Ms. Andrews. I don’t spend a considerable sum on an event that my staff may or may not attend depending on their mood. And you are no exception. Do you understand?’

  Eva’s body stiffened and a frustrated fire burned in her belly. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Good. I look forward to seeing you there in a couple of weeks. You may leave.’

  Eva walked so quickly out of the room she almost stumbled over her own feet. She mumbled a barely audible goodbye and closed the door behind her. She was furious. Who in the hell did he think he was? He might have more money than the national debt, but that didn’t give him the right to treat his employees like possessions. She leaned her back against the cold timber doors and shook her head. She needed his job, she reminded herself. And he was the boss. He had every right to tell her what to do. But this was outside her job spec. And way outside her comfort zone.