Just for the Rush

by Jane Lark

  As we waited watching Susie make all ten drinks and load them into a box, the music changed to ‘Happy Xmas (War is over)’.

  ‘If I hear one more Christmas song…’ Jack whispered under his breath.

  I laughed. But I knew what he meant. I was not in the spirit of the season this year. Rick hadn’t only taken custody of the house; he’d got custody of my parents and my friends. Everyone was on the side of team-Rick. But he was so nice, any woman would be stupid to say no to him, and so everyone had seen the complete and utter bitch in me.

  I probably was the stupid one.

  I glanced sideways at Jack. He was about four inches taller than me and I was five-eight, so he was tall. I caught his gaze as it shone through his dark eyelashes. ‘For what it’s worth,’ I whispered, ‘I think Sharon is a bitch.’

  A bark of laughter left his throat.

  ‘Here you go!’ Our box of coffees was handed over, I moved to pick it up, but he leaned over and took it before I could. Really he could have done this on his own. Except maybe he needed someone to hold the doors. I pushed it open for him as we walked out.

  The street was so crowded with shoppers it was like playing dodgems. I opened the disabled access door into the office block so he didn’t have to navigate the rotating doors with the box.

  ‘Back to the madhouse,’ he said as we stepped into the lift.

  I looked at my watch. ‘There’s only an hour left before two…’

  ‘I can’t see much work being done, but maybe this coffee will charge you all up, so we can get all the account work wrapped up—’

  ‘Before Christmas.’

  It was like he cringed at the word Christmas, as his face screwed up and one shoulder sort of ducked. But after that weird reaction, once his face had straightened up, he said in a flat voice, ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Weirdo…’ I said as the lift doors opened and I stepped out.

  I got the office door and held it open.

  ‘Heartbreaker…’ he said when he walked past me into the office.

  He was such a flirt, but so fit that even though I knew he flirted with absolutely everyone, it still had an effect. It was that pitch in his voice, the look in his blue eyes, and the quirk to his mouth, as much as any of the things he said – oh and how hot his body looked.

  ‘Coffee!’ he yelled as he set the box down on the desk, then he pulled a cup out. ‘Vanilla latte.’ He held it out to me.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  My fingers touched his when I took it and my tummy did a backflip, excited by a sexual jolt of attraction.

  He turned away and looked into the box again, then pulled out his triple-shot espresso. He drank his coffee like the drug it was, taking shots to charge up his exuberant personality. He walked back into his office and shut the door.

  I shouted out the types of coffee and people came over to collect them as I watched him take off his coat. He hung it up on the rack in there, then went over to his desk, picked up his mobile phone and made a call. He walked around as he talked, making large hand gestures. Then his hand gripped in his hair and he looked up, as if he was seeking Divine intervention.

  It didn’t look as though he’d received it. He looked like he shouted something into the phone before ending the call. Then he put his mobile on his desk as if it had burned his hand and stood staring at it for a moment. His hands slid into his pockets. A look of exasperation played across his face.

  When he sat down at his desk, he picked up his office phone. The phone two desks behind me rang. Tina answered. ‘Hi, Jack.’

  ‘Your lawyer… Okay, on to it.’

  As I walked over to leave the empty box by the recycle bin, about three minutes later, I heard Tina say, ‘He’s on the line. I’ll put him through.’

  I felt sorry for Jack. He’d worked hard to build up the business.

  But then he had cheated.

  I sat down to finish off the project I was working on. I wanted to get it completed before Christmas. I wasn’t allowed near the big accounts, but I’d recently been given one of the smaller ones to manage as a trial. I was trying really hard to come up with a new concept that would blow their minds.

  If I was going to make my mark on advertising, this was my moment to start.

  After about half an hour I sat back in my chair and sighed. The right idea wasn’t coming. I’d listed, in a mind map, all the things the client wanted, the demographics we knew about their market, the things that were unique about their products, looking for an angle, a hook, a catch… But I couldn’t spot one.

  My stupid brain was absorbed with Christmas, and Rick.

  He was going to my parents with his parents. The plans hadn’t changed since my birthday – I’d just been dropped from them. ‘Ivy, I think it’s best you stay away from home this year, Rick is very upset.’ Those were Mum’s precise words. Everyone loved Rick and so now everyone hated me. The only person who was sort of with me still, was Milly. But she couldn’t openly be on Team Ivy because Rick was Steve’s best friend – the two of them had paired us up at school. They could not have been more wrong.

  Then why had I stayed with Rick for six years? Six years!

  Because I’d been lazy. It had just been easy. I’d liked him. I still did. He was nice – why wouldn’t I like him? I even loved him, in a quiet way. But he’d never made my heart pound or my tummy backflip. I didn’t want to settle for ‘like’, or ‘comfortable’, or ‘kind’. I wanted a passionate love. I regretted hurting Rick by letting him think everything was okay. But I didn’t regret leaving. I’d wasted six years of both our lives staying in that relationship when I’d known it was wrong.

  When the clock hit two, everyone started packing up. Emma knocked on Jack’s office door. When she opened it, she asked, ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come for a drink?’

  I didn’t hear what he said, but it was obviously a reiteration of no.

  ‘Have a good Christmas,’ Emma concluded.

  She stopped at my desk then. I hadn’t stopped working; I wasn’t in the mood for a rowdy pub on Christmas Eve. ‘Are you not coming either, Ivy?’

  ‘No, I don’t feel like it.’ Emma knew all my troubles, she was my direct manager, and she’d been good about everything – she’d given me time off to look for somewhere to live after my life had crash-landed, and the place I’d found had actually been one she’d spotted advertised on Gumtree.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ It wasn’t only the crowds, I wouldn’t be able to stand the Christmas music; Christmas was not happening for me this year and I didn’t need reminders of what I was missing out on. It was depressing and I was trying to leave my depression behind.

  ‘I don’t like leaving you here.’

  ‘I’m alright, honest.’

  ‘Why don’t you go home?’

  Because there was no one and nothing to go home for. ‘No. I want to finish up what I’m doing on this account. I’ll use the creativity room while it’s quiet and try and generate some ideas before I pack up.’ I looked back at my computer and clicked on print, then stood up.

  ‘Well, if you want to come down to the pub later, text me, to check we haven’t moved on somewhere, and if you need me over the Christmas break you can call.’

  ‘That’s really kind, but I’ll be okay. Have a good time.’

  ‘Take care.’

  When she went over to get her coat, I collected the printout of the mind map I’d done and then walked to the door with everyone. They were smiling and laughing, and they talked excitedly. Christmas had an atmosphere that was different to any other holiday; everyone was jollier – using the Christmas word. But there were the gifts, decorations and feasting to look forward to. I wasn’t doing any of those things this year. I was going to sit alone in my room and dine on baked beans on toast. I wasn’t very good at cooking for one. Rick had been the homemaker, not me.

  A couple of the guys air-kissed me at the door and I hugged
Tina and Mary, and wished them all a good time, and a Happy New Year, because this was it until the 2nd of January; we were finishing up for the whole period between Christmas and New Year.

  So as of…. Now. When the door shut. I was on my own.

  I walked into the creativity room. It was four walls of blue-sky posters that you could write on and then wipe clean. ‘To encourage blue-sky thinking,’ that was Jack. Emma was the organiser, planner and manager out of the two of them and Jack was the off-the-wall ideas and sales man. He did most of the client work; Emma managed the office and the accounts. The things Jack would find boring.

  ‘Right. Forget them, forget what time of year it is, I am going to do this. Come on, brain, give me some inspiration.’

  I wrote up all the key things I’d thought of so far, then I used the computer in the room to Google relevant images and printed them off and stuck them up against all the facts and inspirations. As the images began to build, I started to think I was getting somewhere, that any moment the idea was going to come, but then suddenly the door opened.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’

  I jumped. ‘Oh, God, you scared me.’

  Jack stepped into the room. ‘Ivy, why aren’t you at the pub? I was just about to put the alarm on and lock up when I saw the light on in here. I nearly locked you in for the holidays.’

  ‘I didn’t want to go to the pub either. I’ve been working on an idea for the Berkeley account.’

  ‘I can see that.’ He glanced up at the wall. ‘But it’s Christmas; they aren’t going to do anything with it until the New Year and anyway I’m going now so you’re going to have to leave too.’

  I picked up all the stuff I’d been working on, but left everything I’d put up on the walls. He stepped back and let me walk out. Then he knocked off the light, shut the door behind us and followed me.

  I went over to my desk. The light was out in his office and his coat was in a heap on the desk next to mine.

  ‘I shut your computer down. I thought you’d gone and been sloppy and left everything out.’

  I poked my tongue out at him as he dropped into the chair before the desk next to mine. One ankle lifted to settle on his opposite knee as he sprawled back in the chair, watching me.

  I put everything down on my desk and then opened the drawer in the pedestal.

  His skinny black trousers hugged the muscular definition in his legs as he leaned back in that cool, nonchalant pose.

  He picked up a pen that had been lying on the desk tapped one end of it, twisted it over with his fingers and then tapped the other end, and kept on turning it and tapping it in an absentminded way as I shoved all my work into the drawer.

  ‘So what are you doing for the holidays?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I locked my drawer, then looked at him.

  ‘Me neither. Have you got anyone to go and visit, or anyone coming to you?’

  ‘No. I’m all alone.’ I gave him an awkward smile as I straightened up, ready to go. He didn’t make a move to get up.

  ‘Me too.’

  His blue eyes looked at me and his fingers stopped turning the pen, then lifted to brush his black hair off his brow. There was that tug and my tummy did a dozen backflips like it had taken on a tumbling act.

  ‘You know, Ivy, we needn’t spend the holiday alone.’

  Shit. What was coming?

  ‘We could spend it together, if you want?’

  ‘If I want…’

  ‘I’m going away. I’ve got a cottage in the Lake District. It’s my haven. It’s entirely isolated. You could come, if you want?’

  ‘If I want?’ I repeated. Where was this going?

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘Ivy, come on, you get it. You could spend Christmas here alone. Or we could go away together and spend Christmas having naughty sex and leave the world to get on with their happy families’ celebration.’

  I should feel insulted, I should feel shocked. What I felt was nothing like that – I felt – tempted…

  He stood up. ‘You fancy me. We’ve had chemistry going on since you started here. Admit it.’ He was standing close to me, arms at his sides, looking at me like he wanted to reach out and touch. I wanted to reach out and grab, I always had.

  ‘Give into it,’ he said, as though it was the most normal thing for him to come on to me and ask me to go away with him.

  ‘Oh. You‘re so tempting,’ I said sarcastically and turned my back on him, deliberately, to cross the room and fetch my coat. My heartbeat raced manically. God, my body would love to do that. Sex! Naughty sex! The wicked side of me, the girl on Santa’s bad list, wanted to ask how naughty? But I didn’t really need to ask; I’d seen the glint in his eyes that had implied very naughty. But he was my boss.

  ‘I can be more tempting.’ I heard him getting closer as he followed me to the coat racks.

  His voice ran fingers across my innards like they were guitar strings.

  After I’d taken my coat off the hook I turned and faced him. A part of me was terrified and it yelled, don’t be more tempting! While the wicked me, the bitch that had refused to marry Rick because he was boring, wanted to leap at Jack’s offer.

  I smiled.

  One eyebrow and one side of his lips lifted. ‘You are tempted. I knew you fancied me.’

  ‘I didn’t know you fancied me that much.’ I slipped my arms into the sleeves of my parka. It would be entirely reckless of me to say yes.

  His hands lifted, saying, look at you. ‘Seriously, Ivy, you must know what you look like, who wouldn’t?’

  ‘That isn’t a compliment that’ll win me over.’

  ‘I’m saying you’re gorgeous.’ He stepped closer and then his hands gripped the edges of my coat. ‘And there is one thing I’ve always known about you, you were too good for Rick. That guy was never right for you.’

  My tummy did pirouettes. ‘I am tempted.’ My answer was a broken, dry-mouthed whisper. He’d had me at ‘Rick was never right for you’.

  He glanced up at the ceiling, his head tilting back. ‘Yes. Come on temptation.’ His gaze dropped back to me. ‘Actually, why don’t we scrap naughty sex and go for all-out nasty sex, a whole week of it.’

  ‘And what happens when we get back?’ I could hear the words in Rick’s voice. Don’t be crazy, Ivy, he’s your boss. I’d spent too many years listening to Rick’s cautions.

  ‘Nothing happens. We act like normal.’ He looked around. ‘I don’t see anyone here; who’s to know we went away together?’ Then he looked back at me. ‘It’ll be our secret.’

  ‘But you’re my boss—’

  ‘I’m not going to sack you if you have sex with me.’

  ‘Or you have sex with me. This is your suggestion.’ I’d only ever done it with Rick. Was that desperately sad? It felt sad, and I was one hundred per cent sure that doing it with Jack would be incomparable to doing it with Rick. My bad girl wanted to know what it would feel like.

  His eyes glinted. He still had a hold on my coat. The expensive aftershave he wore filled the air around us.

  I breathed in and ended up breathing in his out-breath, he was so close.

  ‘As far as I remember, sex takes two people. If we have sex we agree no one’s to blame, no one’s leading the other one. We’re doing it for a bit of fun because we have nothing better to do and we’ll come back feeling much better than if we’d sat at home pissed off with everyone else enjoying themselves.’

  Naughty. Nasty. Sex. My heart thudded, adding a bass beat to the moment, and my tummy was wobbly like a jelly shot. This was what I’d turned Rick down for – to feel a rush like this – this pounding and excitement in my blood. ‘Yes okay. Alright.’ The words left my lips without any bidding from my brain.

  ‘You’re sure?’ He sounded surprised.

  But I was up for this. This was what I’d thrown my life up in the air to feel. This feeling was the thing I’d craved. Excitement.

  He let go of me. I’d expected him to kiss me. But then it wasn’t romanc
e he was offering.

  ‘I promise you, you won’t regret it.’

  ‘You…’ A nervous laugh escaped my throat. ‘You’re so full of yourself.’

  His hands suddenly pressed either side of my head, his long fingers sliding into my hair. Then he did kiss me. It was hard and dominating. Nothing like the soft, gentle way that Rick kissed.

  Oh, no, she’s absolutely right. I cheated. Loads.

  I hadn’t ever admitted it, not even to myself in my head, but I’d wanted him to kiss me since I’d started here two years ago even though I’d been with Rick. Maybe I’d even have loved it if, at the end of my interview, he’d have pinned me up against a wall, kissed me, and whispered into my mouth, ‘You got the job.’ But there had been Rick at home and I wouldn’t have cheated. I’d never have let it happen before.

  I cheated. Loads… Jack would have, and the whole idea of that made my tummy backflip when it should be turning in disgust. Maybe I’d dumped Rick not so much because he was too nice, but because I was too bad. Maybe all my family and friends were right to be on Team Rick.

  When Jack’s lips lifted off mine, I rose on to my toes and captured his bottom lip with a nip. I was up for this. I wanted to be the sort of person who played. I wanted to try it. There was a rush inside me, inspired by the risk of who he was, and what he was – even though he denied it, if this went wrong, he employed me. But Jack would not even think of stuff like that, he thrived on risk. I wanted to think like him. I was up for a seven-night stand of naughty, nasty, sex.

  He smiled then let go of my hand. ‘There’s one thing we need to make a deal on before we go,’ he said as he turned and walked back to pick up his coat, before looking at me again. ‘Let’s not mention the C word, I’m really not up for that this year.’

  He meant Christmas. I laughed. ‘Deal. Me neither. We’ll make every day a normal day. ‘

  He grinned as he slipped on his coat.

  I should feel scared. All I felt was excited. This rush was amazing.

  He held my hand, which wasn’t intimate because he’d put his suede gloves on, and then he led me out of the office, setting the alarm with his free hand before closing the door.