“For sure,” she said, and although she was trying to keep her voice professional, I could hear the excitement in there too. “For sure. I’d love to.”
“Great!” I said, and though I should have backed out to get the tickets booked already, I found myself lingering in the doorway a little longer.
“I’ve never been to the UK!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never even left the country.”
“Then you’ll need to get packing.”
I flashed her a smile and she smiled back. She was giddy and it was cute as hell.
“I’m going to,” she promised and stepped back into her office to get back to work.
I watched her for a moment and turned back to my desk. The reality of the situation finally began to settle in. I was going away with this woman. I mean, away, away. Far away from the office. Far away from our day-to-day lives. Far away from all of this, all of the taboo that had swirled around us from the moment she walked in the door.
I sat down at my desk, closed my eyes, and my mind filled with thoughts of Jeannie. The memory of her was a solid reminder that going after Mona, no matter what the circumstances, was only going to end badly. The details flooded my brain, the memory of her, everything that had happened washing over me like a bad dream.
After we had hooked up, things started going downhill. Well, not at first. At first, of course, it was fun. It wouldn’t have gotten so intense if it hadn’t been fun in the beginning.
For the first few weeks, maybe the first month, I was having a good time, and so was she. It was sexy, fun, deviant – the two of us sneaking into each other’s offices and hooking up whenever we got the chance. I enjoyed it, and I assumed she did, too. But I saw it as nothing more than the fling and I was sure she did too. Anything else would have been ridiculous. If it wasn’t fun, then what was it?
Well, as far as she was concerned, it was the beginning of a relationship. I can’t believe I was so blind that I didn't see it at the time. the way she looked at me, how she lingered late at the office to spend time with me. I thought she had just been angling for a promotion.
As we continued hooking up, though, I grew bored. That was the kind of asshole I was when it came to women. I got tired of them as quickly as they sparked my interest, and all being with her for a few weeks proved to me was that we were not a good match.
She was a little nervous, maybe even neurotic, and while that made for a good assistant, it didn’t interest me outside of work. I also assumed she was seeing other people because, well, why wouldn’t she have been?
We had just been hooking up, after all. I hadn’t slowed down at all in the dating other people thing. I dropped a couple hints to her, but she didn't seem to take them seriously. She thought I was joking and brushed them off like they were nothing until, that is, the big blowout.
As my assistant, she had an intimate knowledge of my schedule. When I planned a date with a model I’d been chatting with for several weeks, Jeannie blew her top. She came storming into my office clutching the printed-out email in her hand.
“What the fuck is this?” she scoffed slamming it down on the desk in front of me, and I looked up at her, brow furrowed.
“I have a date?” I replied, confused.
She was furious, her cheeks flushed red with rage as she gulped in deeps breaths to try and calm herself.
“You have a date,” she repeated for clarity, and I nodded.
“What’s the problem?” I asked gently, reaching out to touch her waist. She jerked away from me, looking down at me with such contempt, I actually felt my blood chill.
“But we’re together,” she shouted, and I widened my eyes at her in surprise.
I had to suppress a laugh. Not at her, but at the fact that she seriously thought there was something between the two of us beyond just fooling around.
“Jeannie, no.” I said softly, shaking my head. “I don’t want to be an ass, but this is just… it was just fun. I thought you knew that?”
“How can you say that?” she cried out and threw her hands in the air. “After everything we did, after everything you…?”
Her shoulders slumped and I felt a cold, creepy feeling sneak up my spine as I realized this problem wasn’t just going to go away.
Things unraveled from there. I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn't realize how bad until that day a week later when it all came to a head.
I assumed that we would just go on as normal. Sure, I knew things would, of course, be awkward for a while, but we had ended our sexual relationship, and she seemed to have accepted things.
I still caught her looking at me with these odd, wistful stares every once in a while, but it was nothing more than that.
I was out on the date with the model – I can’t even remember her name right now, because she never called me again after that night – at some fancy restaurant she’d insisted on taking me to, halfway across town.
I was tired, slightly bleary from work, and trying my best to turn on the charm, but I had been having an uneasy feeling at the back of my mind. Something was wrong. Then, I saw her.
She was standing outside the restaurant watching us, and as soon as our eyes connected, my stomach lurched with panic. The sounds around me became muffled. My date was halfway through a sentence that immediately vanished to nothing as it came out of her mouth. My jaw dropped, and to my horror, Jeannie went to the entrance and began to walk in.
“What’s going on?” the model asked nervously. She tried to follow my gaze but didn’t immediately spot Jeannie as she marched toward us. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“So, you actually went through with it?” Jeannie questioned me, gesturing angrily between the two of us. The model looked from her to me and back again, clearly confused.
“Who is this?” my date had asked, her voice clipped but polite, given the circumstances.
“Who is this?” Jeannie repeated in an aggressively mocking tone. “I’m his girlfriend, bitch.”
“No, you’re not,” I said firmly. I rose to my feet and looked around the room in an attempt to catch the attention of a staff member, but there was no one in sight. Maybe they had seen the bullshit that was about to unfold in front of them.
“Oliver, please,” Jeannie begged, desperately, and I took her arm lightly, steering her toward the exit, so I could get her the hell out of there. My date was ruined.
I got her out of the front door and on to the street, and she tried to reach up to put her arms around me. I pushed her away, placing my hands firmly on her shoulders to keep her at arm’s length.
Her face had sunk, and she finally understood. She looked up at me with her eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them. It was as though I’d delivered a blow straight to her chest, like I’d knocked the wind out of her.
“Don’t come in to the office on Monday,” I said, lowering my voice.
We were getting looks from people going by us on the street as her lip began to tremble, and I didn’t want any of them to overhear what our conversation was about.
“And I never want to hear from you again. This is over, do you hear me? It never even started.”
“Oliver, I love you,” she pleaded, but I cut her off before she could go any further.
I didn't want to hear it. It had been a long time since anyone had told me they loved me, and I had no idea how to react to the knowledge that Jeannie had felt that strongly about me. The last time I said it had been to my first, post-college girlfriend, and that was so long ago I was hardly able to remember it.
Since then, it was nothing but flings, one night stands, and fun, specifically designed to ensure that nobody would ever get too attached to me.
“No, you don’t,” I assured her, finding my voice again, as though I wanted everyone to hear it. “You don’t. You just think you do, and I need you to rid yourself of that delusion, sooner rather than later, and let me get on with my life.”
Tears streamed down her face, as though they had always been there wa
iting to be released, and her entire body collapsed against mine. I waved down a cab, not sure what else to do. I eased her into the back seat, and she slumped down against the leather. I closed the door and hoped to God it would be the last I ever saw of Jeannie.
She turned up at the office a few more times, but I hadn’t actually laid eyes on her, thank goodness. She kept coming, telling anyone who would listen what had happened between us and how I had forsaken and abandoned her when she had done nothing but care for me.
We had to get a restraining order against her, and it became official about three months ago, long enough now that I hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever. She never tried to violate the order, to my knowledge, and I had no interest in spending the rest of my life peering around every corner to make sure she wasn’t there. She was gone, and that was all that mattered.
I had no interest in seeing any of that go down again. I shuddered at the thought.
Still, it was a few days out of the country together, just Mona and me. No matter what, I had to remember the downsides to an affair with Mona, no matter how tempting she was, how gorgeous she looked, how much I wanted to wrap my arms around her, kiss her, and feel her tongue against mine. No matter how hot the thought of that was making me.
I reached for my laptop and went to book our tickets, banishing those thoughts from my mind. At least for now. While I still could.
Chapter 13
Mona
“I can’t believe we have a private jet,” I said, shaking my head as we approached the airport.
Oliver shrugged.
“Masterson insisted on it,” he said grinning in my direction. “And I’m not about to turn him down.”
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. It had all gone down so fast. On Monday morning, Oliver was standing in my office with his eyebrows raised, asking if I wanted to come to Europe with him, and now, here we were, a few minutes away from getting on a ridiculously luxurious, private jet and flying out to London. To fucking London!
I crossed and uncrossed my legs and shot Oliver a look across the taxi. I knew this was just a business trip and that was all, but we were still spending the next four days alone together. Just us. How was that not exciting? Anything could happen, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
We pulled up at the airport, and the driver who’d been sent to the office stepped out to open my door for me. I smiled at him appreciatively and wondered if people ever got used to taking this kind of treatment. I hoped I never did.
“Be my guest,” Oliver said as he gestured for me to ahead of him.
I could see a glint in his eye that gave away he was delighted to be able to give me this kind of experience. I made my way slowly toward the jet, putting one foot in front of the other, as though I expected the ground to vanish out from underneath me at any second. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
There was someone waiting for us at the bottom of the steps, a woman a little older than me. She beamed as I got closer, as though she couldn’t be more delighted to see me.
“Welcome,” she said, nodding and sweeping her hand up the steps. “I’m Gloria. I’ll be serving you today.”
She had a British accent, the kind you heard on stereotypical TV characters in British sitcoms, and I had to suppress an amused giggle.
I made my way up the steps and into the aircraft, gripping the handrail tightly to make sure the wind didn’t whip me out onto the runway.
It was warm inside, the lighting soft, and everything around me surely cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment. My mouth hung open as I looked around. This place was incredible. I had flown a couple of times before, but none of the aircraft I’d been on had looked anything close to this swanky.
The space was made up for maybe half a dozen people, at most, with a handful of luxurious, leather seats next to gleaming windows, and low tables that looked like they were plucked straight from an interior design magazine.
Another woman greeted me as I walked in, and handed me a glass of champagne. “Welcome, Mrs. Paulson,” she said and nodded with a professional smile.
“Oh, I’m not-” I tried to correct her, but she had already turned to greet Oliver, and I shrugged. Not that big a deal.
I made my way up the aisle and sat in one of the enormous seats near the back. Oliver joined me, planting himself directly opposite me and raising his glass.
“Mrs. Paulson.” he smirked, and I rolled my eyes, leaning over to clink my glass against his.
“What was that about?” I replied, taking a sip of my drink. God knows how expensive this champagne was, but it was damn good.
“I think the Masterson group are a pretty traditional company,” he explained. “They’d just assume that you were my partner, you know?”
“Should we tell them?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“Probably wouldn’t do any harm to let them keep thinking we’re married,” he replied. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“If it helps you get the account.”
I grabbed the ring that usually lived on my index finger and switched it over to the ring finger of my left hand, waggling my fingers in front of my face to show him. “I do.”
“I’ve got to say, I’ve done pretty well for our honeymoon,” he said laughing as he gestured around, and I nodded.
“Yeah, this place is pretty amazing,” I admitted. “Not quite what I pictured for my honeymoon but…”
“Why, what did you have in mind?”
He grinned mischievously, and my stomach flipped. Here I was, talking about my fucking honeymoon with a guy I’d sworn I was going to keep things platonic with.
“I always liked the idea of a road trip,” I replied. “Go see both our families, explore. Just drive around and hang out.”
“I can’t imagine ever liking anyone enough to risk spending that much time with just the two of us on our own.”
He shook his head.
“No, I think I’d go out to Europe.”
“Just like this?” I asked.
“Maybe without the business meetings,” he admitted, “but yeah, something like this.”
“Sounds pretty perfect.” I cocked my head at him. “Though, you’d have to stop having your dates turn up at the office if you want to find a wife.”
“Oh, come on,” he protested playfully. “What kind of woman wouldn’t let me have my old dates hanging out at work all the time?”
“A much more understanding one than me.”
I raised my eyebrows at him and finished up my champagne. Almost without a pause, the hostess whisked my empty glass away and placed another one in my hand. I raised my eyebrows at her as she backed off, surprised at just how slick this entire operation was.
“You’ll be a great wife. You’re so organized. You’ll keep any guy on the right track.”
“I’m not going to marry anyone who needs to be kept on track,” I shot back.
“I don’t imagine you will, no,” he agreed, cocking his head. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” I said, shaking my head. “Not for a while. Not since high school.”
“Seriously?”
He sounded surprised.
“Why? You think I should have settled down by now?”
“No, it’s not that. I just, I don’t know, I assumed someone like you would have found someone by now. That’s all.”
“Just me and my roommate.” I shrugged.
The alcohol was loosening me up, and I knew it. I should have slowed down, but I was enjoying myself too much.
“No one in college?” he asked.
“No one worth mentioning,” I replied. “I was too busy studying to date.”
“Yeah, me neither,” he joked.
“I don’t even think I want to imagine you in college,” I teased.”
“Ha, I wasn’t that bad,” he protested. “I was busy, too. Didn’t get where I am today by dating too much.”
“So you’re catching u
p now?”
“Pretty much.” He nodded. “Feels that way.”
“That’s what I’ll do,” I replied with certainty. “When I’ve gotten to where I want to be in my career, I’ll start dating properly. I don’t have time for it now.”
“Where do you want to be in your career?” he asked, and I realized with a start what this felt like – a date. A first date. All the questions, the alcohol, the unfamiliar setting. It felt like we were testing the waters, getting to know each other for the first time. Which, well, maybe we were.
“I… I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands. “I’m only just out of college. I don’t know exactly where I want to be yet, but I know I want it to be good.”
“I’m certain you’ll get whatever it is you’re looking for,” he offered warmly, flashing me one of those devastatingly gorgeous smiles. I felt my heart flutter and averted my gaze down to my lap, forcing myself to take a deep breath.
I had a feeling this was going to be a long flight.
Chapter 14
Oliver
It was late by the time we arrived in the UK. The flight had taken hours, switching between time zones a few times, and I had no idea what hour it was.
Mona had fallen asleep on the plane, hand dangling over the edge of her seat as her breathing slowed and steadied. I watched her for a little while until I realized what I was doing and forced myself to look away. I didn’t want to be creepy.
When we arrived, Mona’s head snapped up and she looked around blearily.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Local time, or our time?” I replied and gestured out the window. It was dark, and there was a light drizzle of rain.
“We should get to the hotel,” she yawned. “How far away is it?”
“I don’t know, but they’ll have sent a car for us.”
I stretched and got to my feet. I had spent the flight going over the details of the contract I was hoping to enter into with them, and I was way too excited to get any rest.
“Thank goodness.”
She brushed some sleep from her eyes and stood up, pressing her face to the window and cupping her hands around her eyes so she could get a better look out the glass. “I can’t believe we’re actually here.”
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