Seven Days: The Complete Story

by Dale, Lindy

  “I know. I was shocked to see you. I don’t know why but I was as in the dark about this as you were. Nick told me nothing. So again, I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Friends again?”

  “We were never friends, Joel. We knew each other a week.”

  “No. I guess we weren’t. Friends with benefits, then?”

  “Not exactly professional.” Even if the idea has been rolling around in my brain for the past twenty-four hours, despite not wanting it to.

  He pauses; a small frown crinkles between his eyes that he quickly hides behind one of his killer grins. I’ve hurt him. I can’t understand it. He was the one who claimed he wanted no commitment. Why would he be hurt at this? I always thought he was more vulnerable than he let on, that there was a gorgeous man behind that cheeky, blasé façade. Have I seen a glimpse of the real Joel?

  I smile back; conscious that though Nicholas is standing beside us he is oblivious to our conversation. “Hey. I’d like to be friends though. But not now. When this prac is over.”

  His reply is quiet. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

  And my heart is pounding in my ears again.

  We continue our journey through the building, stopping intermittently to study details and ending up in what used to be some form of garden out the back. I can see Jill busily taking photos and making notes on her iPad. She looks over to us. “There you are. I was beginning to think the boys had locked you in a cupboard. You haven’t been badgering them with questions, have you?”

  “Sadie’s been a help. She took one look at that indoor garden area we’ve been mulling over and told me exactly how it should look, right down to the seating. It’s exactly the concept I was trying to voice the other day. I’ve asked her to draw up some plans tonight, if that’s okay with you Jill? I have to say I’m pretty impressed with her ideas,” Nicholas says. “It was the right decision to take her on.”

  I preen a little at this praise. “I’m glad I could help.”

  Joel glances at the time on his phone. “I’m pretty sure it must be time to down tools for the day. Who’s for an after work drink? I think we deserve it. It’s been a good day all round.”

  “Great idea,” Jill says. “I need to stop off at Highfield on the way back but I’ll meet you at the bar.”

  “Work boots and all?” Joel jokes.

  “Unless you want me to come in my bare feet.”

  “Are you coming Sadie?” Nicholas asks.

  I bite my lip. I know they’re asking me as part of the group of staff but I’m not sure I should do this. My lips and my intentions tend to become very loose when alcohol and these boys are involved.

  Nicholas looks expectantly at me and, heaven help me, I can’t say no. It’s his eyes. Those damn eyes.

  “You go with Nick and Joel then, Sadie. I’ll catch you up in half an hour or so,” Jill says.

  No. NO. She can’t leave me alone with them. That’s not part of the deal. I can handle it in an empty building but if we get where there’s fun and frivolity and alcohol, I’ll start flirting. I know I will. I can’t trust myself to be professional. And I feel so weak and annoyed with myself because I know already that’s what will happen. “I’ll come with you, Jill,” I say.

  “Sure?”

  “Yep.” I turn to Nicholas and Joel. “I’ll go with Jill.”

  Nicholas nods but as we turn to get in the car, Joel holds the door open on the pretext of putting some gear in to go back to the office. “It won’t work,” he whispers.

  “What?” How can I be so good at feigning innocence?

  “Trying to avoid us. I can keep it in my pants and so can Nick but this truce isn’t going to last. You know as well as I do. You’re still as into us as you ever were.”

  I am. But I’m trying not to be.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The sun is setting by the time we head from a quick review at Highfield then on to the bar. Standing on the footpath, I take my thick woollen jumper from my backpack and pull it on over my overalls. As I straighten the hem and redo my ponytail into something less scraggy, I realise what I’m doing. It’s chilly but it’s not that cold. By putting my oldest jumper on — one which should never be seen anywhere except in the garden — I’m trying to make myself inconspicuous. If I’m wearing the armour that is this massive jumper, maybe the boys won’t pay me any heed. Maybe I can get through a social hour in their company impervious to Nicholas’ looks and Joel’s not so subtle innuendos. Maybe I can sit for an hour without being consumed with thoughts of wanting to shag them. Because I want to. The entire time we were touring the Iris building, all I could think of was finding a dark corner and getting naked. The fact that I have a lovely boyfriend who wants to take things to the next level is like a speck of dust on my conscience and I hate myself for being so fickle and thinking this way.

  As I head into the bar, my phone tings in my pocket so I pull it out, motioning to Jill I’ll catch her up. The screen shows it’s Mason and a wave of guilt rushes over me. Geez. I haven’t even done anything. All I did was look. I can’t help it if Joel has a cute bum in his work pants.

  I stop at the window, leaning on the sill.

  “Hi. How was your second day?” Mason asks.

  “Awesome.” I can feel myself smiling as I blither on excitedly telling him about the things I did and saw today. I try not to gush about how cool it is to work with Nicholas and Joel but I can’t help myself. I mean, the guys are seriously gush-worthy, even if I’m only espousing their professional talents. Mason listens without interruption. Most people wouldn’t care less but I know he gets it. He totally gets my love affair with landscaping. He has the same one with classic architecture.

  “Sounds like you’ve had a good day. What are you up to now?”

  “I’m going for a drink with a few of the staff.”

  And my two hot bosses.

  “Do you want to have dinner after? I thought I might chuck a roast in the oven. It’s payday. I’m splurging.”

  Bless Mason. He knows how much I loathe cooking — possibly because I suck. He also knows I won’t have given a thought to dinner. I can survive on toast.

  “Sounds yummy. You’re not doing it at yours, are you?” The very idea is gross. I’ve seen inside Mason’s oven and the experience was enough to make me want to become a raw food convert. I almost threw up at the crunchy things on the grill rack and had to cover the entire thing with silver foil before I felt safe enough to put a slice of bread on it.

  “I thought I’d cook at yours if that’s okay. We haven’t seen a lot of each other this week and I finished my assignments this afternoon. We can have a night in, watch the telly. Taking in the wafting scent of roasting lamb and potatoes. Get a little head.”

  He knows how to get to a girl.

  “Okay,” I say, even though binge-watching True Detective isn’t my idea of a romantic evening in. Mason’s love of all things visual media related is the one moot point between us. Okay, that and the fact that his idea of living dangerously is wearing odd socks. I would have liked that once but things seemed to have changed in the last six months. “You know where the spare key is don’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  I’m about to hang up when I hit on an idea. “Why don’t you come meet me for a drink after you get dinner started? We have an hour or so while it cooks. My shout.”

  We make a plan and I step into the bar confident that I can navigate this situation without falling into some pathetic lust puddle if I have Mason to lean on. Then I see Nicholas staring at me from a table in the corner and I know I was wrong. Sooo wrong. Even covered in dust with flecks of something that looks like spider web stuck to his shirt, he’s a dream. God, I want him. I want him so bad it hurts.

  Chastising myself, I walk to the bar and order a water. I concentrate on the industrial look of the shelves and the way they’ve used uncovered lampshades and mountains of cord to construct a sort of deconstructed chandelier.
I’m going to be professional if it kills me, which it will at this rate. My heart feels like I’ve run two marathons in succession and my hand is shaking for no reason I can fathom.

  The barman gives me my glass and I head to where the staff have pulled a couple of tables together and set themselves up. Nicholas and Joel are at one end of the table and of course, the only empty seats are next to them. Dammit. I stand at the edge of the group like an undecided fool. If I sit next to them they’ll start it up, I know they will but if I don’t, it will look weird, like I’m purposely avoiding them. Which I would be.

  “You don’t need an invitation to sit,” Nicholas says.

  Not exactly what was worrying me but I give a small smile and sit beside Joel.

  I sit and listen. The staff at Hardwick & Lawson has clearly been working together for a while, they’re talking about wives and children, football matches, someone’s moonlighting gig in a bar on Friday night and who’s going along. They discuss what they’re doing on the weekend and buy each other rounds of drinks. I don’t contribute to the conversation but I feel somehow included. It’s nice to be part of such a vibrant crowd of people who clearly get along so well, a testament to the working environment created by their bosses.

  With everyone else deep in conversations, Nicholas pulls his chair a little closer to mine. “You’re quiet.”

  “It’s been a big day. I’m trying to process.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

  “It’s the best, Nicholas. Thank you so much for agreeing to take me on.” I suck in a breath and look him in the eye. I have to look at him if we’re being professional. “I’m glad I didn’t ring the placement office this morning.”

  “I don’t know what it was that made you change your mind but I’m glad too. The whole point of you being at Hardwick & Lawson is to learn. I don’t want what happened between us to destroy an opportunity for you and I’m well aware what sort of opportunity a placement with us offers for future jobs.”

  I’m glad he’s said this. It makes me feel more positive about coping with the feelings that are galloping around under my disguise. “I’m super grateful.”

  “I know.”

  I give a little giggle. “You know, if I’d said that to Joel he would have asked me to demonstrate exactly how grateful. In his jokey-sexy way, of course, with that eyebrow thing he does.”

  Nicholas grins. “That’s Wonder Boy for you. Ever the charmer. That smooth tongue of his is the reason female clients line up round the block.”

  “You’re not exactly the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Nicholas.” So much for professional conversation.

  “And you didn’t have to hide yourself under that jumper. I’m not going to jump your bones—”

  More’s the pity.

  “I wasn’t hiding. I was cold.”

  He gives me a look that tells me he disagrees. “If we weren’t here and this wasn’t now, I could think of a myriad of ways to warm you up.”

  He’s done that simply by implying, damn him.

  “Nicholas.”

  “Just saying. Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasise, though.”

  Oh no. No, no, no. I don’t want to fantasise. I want to think about plants and pavers and ways to make gravel paths look innovative. Then there’s topiary and espalier and potted baskets…

  “You’re blushing.”

  “You’re making me,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “Now, stop it or I’ll go home.” I stand, making my intentions clear and as I do I spot Mason coming in the door. My body physically sags with the relief of seeing him. I wave in his direction and he nods and smiles.

  “Who’s that?” Nicholas is looking from Mason to me. He seems confused.

  “My boyfriend, Mason.” I know I sound smug, like I’ve dodged a bullet. “I invited him for a drink before we head home. I hope that’s okay. He’s in his final year of architecture. You’re like his idol, so play nice.”

  Nicholas has a look on his face that says he’d rather Mason be playing chicken with a road train. “Sure.”

  Mason approaches and I do the introductions. He sits in the empty chair next to mine and a discussion ensues about his studies and interests in the architecture world. Nicholas is saying the right things and showing the appropriate level of interest but his eyes don’t leave Mason’s hand, which is holding mine. Joel, on the other hand decides he doesn’t like the conversation one iota and swipes his glass from the table as he leaves and goes to the bar.

  “What’s up with him?” Mason whispers to me.

  I shrug.

  I watch Joel at the bar. There’s a girl there he knows and he’s kissing her hello and offering to buy her a drink. He’s leaning close to her and tucking a hair behind her ear, laughing in that sexy way he does. My blood heats up a little, even though my brain tells it not to. He’s giving me a bit of my own medicine, I think. He’s trying to make me jealous or trying to prove to me that I mean nothing, that the things he said were stories to get into my pants again. What is with him and Nicholas? They say one thing but they never practise what they preach. Their main focus appears to be making me lose mine.

  Deciding to ignore both of them, I excuse myself and go to the ladies room. I need to breathe. Alone.

  *****

  In the bathroom I stand for a minute staring at myself in the mirror. I hold a dampened hand to my forehead and contemplate what seems to be playing out in front of me. This being professional thing is going to be harder than I thought. Both Nicholas and Joel seem to assume they have a licence to say whatever they want as long as I’m the one person hearing it. Giving the odd wink and longing stare doesn’t seem out of the realms of possibility either. It’s absolutely not fair of them to play dirty like that.

  I walk toward the stall and am about to go in when the rest room door swings open and Joel fills the space. It takes a mere two strides for him to be standing in front of me, glaring, his hands blocking the toilet door so I can’t shut it. His eyes are angry and I can see he’s fighting something. I wish I knew what it was. He’s not exactly an open book.

  “What was that out there?” he demands, as he walks me into the stall and snips the ‘engaged’ sign after us.

  “What?”

  “The ‘boyfriend’?” His fingers do the air quote thing, which looks slightly bizarre given how cross he is.

  Incensed, my hands go to my hips. “Mason is my boyfriend. We’ve been seeing each other about three months.”

  “And yet no mention of him.”

  I roll my eyes. This is ridiculous. We’re going to stand in a toilet having an argument over a boyfriend? I don’t think so. “You and I had sex a couple of times, Joel and now you’re my boss. I’m not going to throw a boyfriend casually into the conversation like, ‘oh hey, by the way since your head was last between my legs I got a boyfriend’. And anyway, it’s none of your business.”

  “I would have thought it was common decency.”

  “But we’re not in a relationship. And disclosure of personal relationships isn’t a prac requirement.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I could say the same thing about you. You rushed to the bar faster than a mouse to cheese when that girl came in. Is she your latest shag? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Joel steps toward me and I feel the back of my legs brush against the toilet. His fingers tilt my jaw to his face. His eyebrow rises in question. “Jealous?”

  My tongue slides over my lip and I suck it into my mouth. “Not in the least.”

  “Liar.” He moves closer, making me go slightly off balance but for the life of me, I can’t get out of his radius. He’s drawing me in again. The rope is winding tighter and tighter, squeezing my heart. The worst part is, I want it to. I want him to be mine. My breath is ragged now. My pulse is racing. My resolve has disappeared along with any recollection that Mason is waiting for me a mere wall and a few metres away.

  “You were jealous, too,” I whisper.

  “Not
in the least,” Joel counters. He pulls me to him, gazing down into my eyes. Then his lips descend and I’m expecting to be ravaged but he doesn’t. The kiss is soft and tender and totally unlike the way he kissed me on other occasions. Tingles of desire and anticipation are shooting through my body. Oh, this is worse. Worse. I have no resistance toward this type of kiss. Joel is passion and heat and fire. He’s heart-poundingly sexy, not tender liquid warmth. I could drown in this kiss. Seriously, drown.

  We pull apart, not breathless but confused. Something has happened, changed and it’s not good.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I say.

  “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been fighting my conscience for the last forty-eight hours you’ve been back in my life? The problem is, I don’t know how to stop. All I want is for this month to be over so we can be together.”

  “I’m with Mason. I like Mason.”

  “I don’t care about Mason.”

  “There’s Nicholas.”

  “Damn him too if he can’t see the good thing in front of him. I should never have let you go, Sadie.” His hands move to my shoulders, gripping my bulky jumper and pulling it aside. My heart is racing as he bends his head to sink his lips into my neck. I can feel his breath, hot against my skin, his fingers twining in my hair. This is the passion I know, this I can control.

  I think.

  My fingers are in the loops of his pants, unzipping his fly before I even know how they got there. Realising what I’m about to do, I leap away from him, like I’ve scalded myself on a hotplate.

  “Stop!” I gasp, clutching for air. “We can’t. It’s wrong.”

  I know full well neither of us believes that. How can something so wrong feel so right? If I stop this now, will I lose the one chance I’ll ever have? Can I go back to boring, sweet and dependable when I have the chance for hot, sexy and unstable? I slip around the side of him and make to go. My hand is on the lock. I need to get out of here before we’re either caught or I do something really dreadful.

  “I’m going back to the table to get my boyfriend. Then I’m going home. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”