by Nikki Ashton
‘He’s just popped out,’ I sighed, thinking of the icy atmosphere there had been over the last two days. ‘He shouldn’t be much longer, if you want to wait.’
‘Any chance you can check whether he’s left me a worksheet for the Hutchinson extension?’ Alfie asked with a cheeky grin. ‘He said he’d leave it on his desk.’
‘He’d have left it with me,’ I sighed, ‘but I’ll check.’
I got up and went into Roman’s office, finding the worksheet that Alfie wanted. Needless to say, it was under a load of other papers, but it I found it after a little bit of tidying.
‘Here you go.’ I handed it to Alfie and returned to my desk.
‘Cheers, although I still need to speak to him. Okay if I wait?’
I’d rather he didn’t, I’d got work to do, but Roman was due back any time.
‘Yeah, if you like.’
‘Okay, good. So is this a good time to ask you out for a drink … again?’ he asked, winking at me.
‘Alfie,’ I groaned. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not interested? Besides which, you remind me too much of my brother.’
‘I look like him?’
‘No. The masses of women that you have in and out of your bed.’
‘I do not!’ he protested with a smirk.
‘Oh you so do, and, even if I was single, you would be the last man I’d go out with. Some of us want to be a bit more to a man than a one-night stand.’
Alfie started to laugh. ‘Yeah, but what a night it would be. I’d make you feel amazing, I can promise you that.’
My heart did a little pitter-patter because I was in no doubt that he would, but Alfie was someone women should avoid if they had any self-respect. Unlike Dylan, Alfie wasn’t charming when he got rid of the women he slept with. An old school friend of mine had been on the receiving end of Alfie’s brush-off, and it hadn’t been pleasant.
‘Go on,’ Alfie said interrupting my thoughts. ‘What about it? Just once.’
He leaned across the desk and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. Just as I lifted my hand to push his hand away, Roman decided to return.
‘What the hell is going on?’ he demanded standing in the doorway, hands on hips.
‘N-nothing,’ I stammered.
Alfie pulled his hand back from my face slowly and grinned at Roman. ‘I was waiting for you, and Summer and I thought we’d use the time to arrange a date.’
I waited in trepidation for Roman to blow a gasket. He hated people shirking at work, and was well known for being a hard taskmaster. When he turned up on site, it wasn’t unusual for him to get stuck in laying bricks or sanding floors, and if anyone wasn’t working as hard as him, they soon knew about it. So for Alfie to admit that he’d been messing around meant he had some balls.
‘Well, I don’t pay either of you to arse about fixing up dates.’
Yep, he was mad.
‘I wasn’t,’ I said, trying to protest my own innocence at least. ‘Alfie’s only got here, and he’s messing with you, aren’t you, Alfie?’
I looked at Alfie pleadingly. I know I didn’t normally care what Roman said to me—I could hold my own with him—but for some reason I didn’t want him to think I’d been arranging to go out with Alfie.
‘Yeah, unfortunately she won’t take the bait. I keep trying, but she ain’t interested.’
Roman stared at me, his eyes blank and his face unreadable.
‘Have you sent the final quotation to Alan Cromwell?’ he barked.
‘No, not yet. I’m trying to decipher your handwriting.’ I gave him a smile that barely touched my lips.
‘Right, well, I suggest you get on with it then, and, Alfie, I suppose you’d better come into my office,’ he said as he turned and stalked away.
‘Oh dear,’ Alfie whispered leaning closer to me. ‘Sounds like someone is in a bad mood.’
‘Nothing new there,’ I muttered turning back to my PC and halting any further conversation.
For the rest of the day Roman barely spoke, unless he was barking orders at me. It was all very stressful. I’d be working away quietly, then all of a sudden Roman’s office door would be flung open and he’d bellow something, scaring me half to death. I almost jumped off my chair the first time he did it. I shouldn’t have been surprised because it wasn’t as though that sort of behaviour from him was unusual.
Finally it was time for home and I had never been so glad. I was just packing up my things when, in my peripheral vision, I saw Roman standing at my desk.
‘I need you to work late,’ he said without any preamble.
I looked up at him and smiled. Not a nice happy smile, but a ‘I-hate-your-guts-and-I’m-pretending-not-to-so-that-I-can-kill-you-when-you’re-least-expecting-it’ sort of smile.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ I replied, heaving my workbag onto my shoulder. ‘I have plans and you can’t just spring something like that onto me. Plus, it’s Friday, I am not working late on a Friday.’
‘I need you to work and, as your boss, I can request you do that.’ He folded his arms across his chest causing the cotton of his shirt to stretch against his biceps.
‘Yes, Roman, you can request it, but I can also say no. And that is what I’m doing.’
‘What plans have you got? Can’t you cancel them?’
I looked at him wide-eyed and gave an empty laugh.
‘Hah. No, I can’t and you have no right to ask me to.’
Roman ran a hand over his face and turned, taking a step away from my desk.
‘Can I go then?’
‘I suppose so,’ he grunted turning back to face me. ‘Where are you going to anyway?’
‘Ziggy’s,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Why?’
‘Just wondered what was so damn important that’s all. With your boyfriend, or your friend, Emma?’
‘No, my sister. I don’t have a boyfriend. Anything else?’
What the hell was with all the damn questions? He could barely say hello most days.
Roman shook his head and stormed back into his office.
‘Christ,’ I muttered under my breath. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d be sure he was on his period.’
‘I fucking heard that,’ Roman shouted. ‘If you’re going, go now before I make you damn well stay.’
Resisting the temptation to shout a response, I left the office wondering what the hell had twisted his undies more than usual.
Pippa and I sat in silence people-watching at a tall table in Ziggy’s, and I was not feeling the joy like everyone else in there appeared to be.
For starters, Roman had pissed me off with his attitude earlier. Then, when I was all ready to go, Dad came through from the kitchen with a full glass of red wine for Mum, tripped on one of Pippa’s shoes where she’d dumped them, and splashed wine all down the front of my dress. I had been feeling good about the red mini dress that I’d been wearing, and was not liking the skinny jeans and peacock-green vest top that I now had on.
‘Fancy going home after this one?’ I asked Pippa.
She gave me a thin-lipped smile and shook her head.
‘No, I refuse to be home before Saturday on a Friday night. I’m waiting for a gorgeous guy to walk through that door, I can feel it in my waters.’
‘Really? We’ll see.’
‘Remind me never to come out with you again when Emma can’t make it,’ Pippa grumbled.
Emma was on a date with Henry, and I’d had to resist the temptation to keep texting her for some light relief. This was their first proper date after meeting.
‘It’s nothing to do with Emma,’ I grumbled. ‘I’ve just had a bad day.’
‘Oh and what’s Mr. Boss Man done now?’ she asked, stirring her straw around in her drink.
‘Same as usual, being a miserable bastard. He’s had a go at me today for talking to one of the lads.’ I looked over my shoulder towards the back of the club where Roman’s office was, wondering whether he was behind the door.
‘Maybe he’s stressed,
’ Pippa replied with a shrug.
‘Well, if he is, he’s permanently stressed.’ I drained my glass and heaved out a long, drawn-out sigh. ‘I know he’s worried about the France deal, maybe that’s making him worse.’
‘Why, what’s wrong with it? I thought you said it went well.’
I shrugged. ‘I did, apart from the client being a little bit lecherous. It’s just that Roman’s cut it right down to the wire as far as the costs are concerned. His profit margin is really tight, but he wants to use the best materials possible and French labour and—’
‘Yep, okay,’ Pippa huffed. ‘It’s official, you’re the most boring sister on the planet.’
I stared at her wide-eyed and slapped at her arm.
‘Pippa!’
‘Summer!’ she said, with her hands on her hips. ‘Get a life and get us a drink.’
Twenty minutes later, while the crowd had increased, the gorgeous-guy count had not. I was just about to tell Pippa that I was done, when Jack Abbott appeared at our table.
‘Hey, Summer,’ he cried. ‘Not once in nine years and now twice within a week. How’re you doing?’
‘I’m good, thanks, Jack.’
‘This isn’t your little sister, Pippa, is it?’ Jack pointed at Pippa and grinned.
‘Hi,’ Pippa replied, a little breathily. ‘I remember you, Jack Abbott.’
I groaned inwardly as she licked her lips and shoved her tits out. Jack, ignoring her mating dance, turned back to me.
‘How was France? How was Hepburn?’ he asked. He sounded worried, but the way he bit out Roman’s name made me think that the question was so much more about his dislike of my boss than concern for me.
I had no idea how France was, apart from confusing.
‘It was fine, nothing to worry about.’ I smiled, not wanting to tell him about the incident with Alan Cromwell. There was no need—Roman sorted it.
‘Really, nothing at all?’ he asked, his brow furrowing.
Something told me that Jack may well have been hoping I had something juicy to tell him.
‘No, nothing at all.’
‘Well, that’s good.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, can I get you both a drink?’
Pippa opened her mouth to give her order when I slapped a hand on her forearm.
‘It’s fine, Jack. Thanks anyway, but we’re going soon, and you must be here with friends.’
‘Actually, no,’ he replied with a sigh. ‘My mate, Terry, was with me, but his wife hasn’t been well this week, and he felt guilty about leaving her, so he went home after a couple of pints.’
‘And you wanted to stay out and continue to have fun?’ Pippa asked with another flick of her tongue to her lips.
God, she was so obvious, it was painful.
‘Something like that; so go on, don’t leave me on my own. Have one drink with me.’
I looked at Pippa, who was silently begging me to say yes. She always did this: gave me those damn puppy-dog eyes of hers and I always gave in. Pippa always got her own way.
‘Okay, just one. White wine for both of us, please.’
When Jack went off to the bar, Pippa squealed excitedly.
‘Agh, I’ve always fancied him. He’s so fit, oh my God, Summer.’
I looked over at Jack, and she was right, he was good-looking, but he wasn’t my type. He was too clean-shaven; he didn’t have much muscle; he was a couple of inches too short, and he certainly didn’t have a tight, little arse that I wanted to take a bite out of—Ugh, why couldn’t Roman just bugger off out of my head and leave me alone?
‘Well, go for it, Pip,’ I said, slapping my sister on the back. ‘He’s all yours.’
Two hours later, the three of us were pretty drunk and Pippa was laughing hysterically at the most ridiculous things. She’d also flirted her backside off and Jack was extremely attentive to her, but didn’t appear to be looking for anything other than a couple of drinking buddies for the evening, and someone to talk about himself to. Some of his stories were amusing, but there was only so much Jack Abbott I wanted to be bombarded with. If I was honest, he was pretty boring.
‘So as I knocked through the wall,’ he laughed, continuing a story about one of his building jobs when he was an apprentice, ‘I heard this squeal, and this woman stood up in a bath and held a sponge in front of her, thinking that would cover everything.’
‘Oh God, no!’ Pippa gasped. ‘So you knocked through the wrong wall?’
‘Yep,’ Jack groaned. ‘The gaffer had marked the wrong wall, and I knocked straight through into next door’s bathroom.’
Even I laughed at that one. Pippa, ever the one to go over the top, was struggling to breathe and wiping tears from her eyes.
‘Something seems to have amused you three.’
With a gasp, I stopped laughing and looked up to see Roman. He was standing next to me with his arms firmly crossed over his chest, his back poker-straight. His eyes were firmly pinned on Jack.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ I said with an air of surprise and a hint of sarcasm.
Roman turned his gaze to me. ‘I’m sorry, have I never mentioned that I’m part-owner of the place?’
He gave the briefest of lip curls and then looked back to Jack.
‘Abbot.’ His tone was sharp and pinched, and I got the distinct impression he didn’t really like Jack very much.
Jack gave Roman the brightest of smiles and leaned his elbow against the table, looking relaxed and confident.
‘Roman, great to see you. I’d heard you bought into this place. Jumping on Henry’s coat-tails again?’ Jack smiled, but the comment was full of animosity.
‘Well, you know me, Abbott, I like to hang around with those that give me a hand up in life.’
My gaze darted between the two men: the dislike was palpable. There was steel in both their eyes, and Roman’s body language was defensive, bordering on combative. Jack was leaning leisurely against the table, but there was no disguising the stiffness of his shoulders.
‘Hi,’ Pippa said a little breathlessly. ‘I’m Pippa, Summer’s sister.’
‘Nice to meet you, Pippa.’ Roman gave her a dazzling smile, making me groan inwardly. Mr. Charm himself. ‘Do you have a minute, Summer?’ he asked, glancing at me.
‘What about?’ I asked, with a dismissive shrug.
It was Friday night, and I was not in the mood for a lecture about something that I’d done at work; or anything else, for that matter.
‘I just need a quick word. You can bring Pippa with you, if you like.’
He nodded at Pippa, whose eyes were sweeping up and down his body without any shame or embarrassment.
‘She’ll be fine with me,’ Jack countered, nudging Pippa with his shoulder.
‘W-what?’ she asked, quickly turning to Jack. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t listening.’
God, she was so fickle. For the last two hours, she’d been practically dribbling over Jack, but now her interest was firmly on Roman.
‘She’ll be fine,’ I muttered, pushing up from my stool. ‘Come on then, let’s get it over with.’
As we walked past Jack, I distinctly heard Roman growl. It was actually quite sexy, giving me just a hint of a warm feeling between my thighs. Obviously I’d had far too much to drink. I followed him towards the back of the club, where I now knew his office was. The thought of going back in there— where we’d had our kiss—set my pulse beating on an erratic rhythm. Was he going to kiss me again? Would I kiss him back? As I watched his bum in his straight-cut black trousers, I was pretty sure that I would definitely kiss him back.
As soon as we were in the office, Roman slammed the door and turned to me. Thank God I didn’t stand there with my lips pursed and my eyes closed, because it was clear he was not going to kiss me.
‘What the fuck are you doing with Jack Abbot?’ he snarled.
‘I used to go to school with him. Why?’
Roman rubbed his hand down his face and groaned.
‘He’s not to be trusted, S
ummer, and, please, don’t leave your sister with him for long.’
His tone was a little softer now, but just as firm in its demand. I was seeing another Roman: a different one than I’d ever seen before. This Roman was worried.
‘What’s he done?’ I asked, ‘because he was always okay at school. Is Pippa in danger?’
Roman shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that, but he’s bad news. He’ll just use you, and Pippa, if he needs to. I know someone he hurt badly, and he couldn’t give two shits about it.’
‘In what way? What way did he hurt her? Did he hit her, or something?’
‘No, he betrayed her, and it wasn’t the last time he hurt someone.’ Roman sighed. ‘All you need to know is that he’s a fucking shit.’
I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t sound like the Jack Abbott that I knew, but then I hadn’t seen him since he was a good-looking teenage boy, whose main thought in life was feeling a girl’s tits.
‘Seriously, Summer,’ Roman said softly, and he reached for my hand.
I took in a sharp breath, and glanced down at his fingers laced in mine, and then back up to his face. His eyes were soft and pleading, and I think my heart actually stopped he looked so handsome.
‘I really don’t want you seeing him.’
‘What exactly did he do?’ I asked quietly. ‘I can’t just march out there and drag Pippa home by her hair.’
‘Does it matter what he did?’ he snapped. ‘Believe me, he’s not to be trusted, and you’re not to see him anymore.’
While I’d been willing to listen to reasonable Roman, I was not being told what to do by dictatorial Roman.
‘I don’t think you can actually tell me not to see anyone,’ I replied, snatching my hand from his. ‘I hear what you’re saying, but if I want to see him, I will.’
I had no real interest in seeing Jack Abbott again, but Roman didn’t need to know that. But he couldn’t think he could just turn around and tell me what to do.
‘Why can’t you listen to me for once?’
‘I am listening to you, but you can’t tell me who I can and can’t see. You’re my boss, Roman, not my dad,’ I snapped.
Roman shook his head, and I could see the frustration bubbling in his eyes. Why couldn’t he see, that if he’d just told me what Jack had done and then left it at that, I’d have probably come to the conclusion not to see him myself?