by S M Mala
‘Aren’t you speaking to me, Finlay?’ she asked, not in the mood and getting pissed off, remembering he walked away from her.
Again there was no response.
Sylvie shook her head for a moment before realising he was being his usual arsehole self and got up to go into the meeting room. She’d been in there for fifteen minutes, spreading all the invoices out on the table, before hearing a knock on the door.
‘Hello Sylvie,’ said Samina frowning. ‘You work us like dog. Here.’ She handed Sylvie a note. ‘You have to read and do as told. That what he say.’
‘Who said?’ she asked seeing the unfamiliar handwriting.
‘I not know! I not your slave!’
‘Then how do you know it’s a ‘he’,’ Sylvie said getting up and walking out of the office and then opened up the note.
‘Meet me in the hotel room at 10.30. Say you have to go to a meeting. Finlay.’
She groaned and realised he wasn’t in the office neither was her laptop. Then she noticed the top drawer was open and the key cards had gone.
‘Why that shit!’ she said, grabbing her coat and bag before running out.
‘Where you go now?’ asked Samina. ‘I have pakora today.’
‘I have to go to an urgent meeting,’ she mumbled.
‘Where Finlay?’
‘Who knows?’
Finlay set up the laptops in the room then examined the space where Piers and Sylvie hung out. Their room was 103 on the first floor and it was very swish. He didn’t know what he was going to do but he needed to clear the air.
Since she spoke to him on Saturday, he was pissed off with her, but mostly at himself when he realised she had sussed a few things out.
There was a knock on the door and as he opened it, Sylvie stood there looking agitated before she walked in.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ she asked. ‘I’m really busy Finlay so whatever it is you have on your chest then let it out, please, so I can go back to work.’
The speech was ready and he was already to let rip when he suddenly looked at her, recalling her hug and how gentle she was on Saturday. Finlay stepped closer and removed her bag then her jacket.
‘Are you feeling alright?’ she asked gently.
Finlay grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her with all the passion he could, before he realised her lips had parted and their tongues were touching.
He let his muscle glide around hers, feeling so much lust he didn’t know what to do as her hands touched his back. Then there was a hard push in his chest as she stood looking at him.
‘You don’t kidnap my laptop,’ Sylvie sighed, before walking towards it and typing something then turned to look at him. ‘And suddenly pouncing on me because we’re in a hotel room doesn’t give you a right to do anything.’
Finlay looked at her, up and down, before saying the first thing that came from the top of his head.
‘You’re not the usual type of woman I go for, actually the opposite,’ he began as Sylvie stood there and stared at him. ‘I don’t know why I’m attracted to you when at first I was pretty repelled.’
‘That’s a bit strong and extremely rude,’ Sylvie said and he noticed she had that smirk he used to dislike, which he now thought was quite cute.
‘I’m being honest.’
‘And not personal? We don’t want to do that do we?’
‘I don’t think it’s important to get to know employees ins and outs as it complicates things for the future.’ Finlay noticed she narrowed her eyes at him for a few moments. ‘When you have to make decisions that might affect their livelihoods, you don’t want to know that they can’t pay their rent or council tax. Makes it harder to do what you have to do.’
‘But Finlay, you don’t employ people in your other companies where that would apply, do you? They’re all a specific type, a certain background. I did some research.’ Sylvie laughed for a moment as he started to get annoyed. ‘You certainly wouldn’t have employed or given me a second look if it wasn’t for the fact you’re going through a crisis.’ Her voice was now gentle. ‘And I know pain when I see it, real pain. I can’t help you but I do understand.’
He stood there staring at her as she folded her arms and rested back against the wall.
‘I don’t want a ‘revenge fuck’ as you call it,’ he said staring hard as she glanced around the room. ‘I just don’t know a way out of what I’m going through and I don’t know what to do.’ Finlay took a deep breath then blurted out. ‘You see, I thought she’d never be unfaithful then she told me in August she’d slept with someone, it was a one off. Then later on she said it was a short fling. My mother dug around a little deeper and she’d been screwing this chef since the beginning of the year. That’s more than a fling.’ Sitting down on the end of the bed he leaned forward and rested his chin on his knuckles. ‘And there are other complications with the business and things.’
He didn’t want to tell Sylvie about the baby, he couldn’t face actually confiding what was eating him up and he didn’t know the woman well enough to be sure about her reaction.
‘So she went from high flyer to manual worker? Interesting. Is he a good chef?’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’ve always wanted to go out with a chef for free meals.’
‘I’m glad you think my car crash life is amusing,’ he replied flatly.
‘It’s not car crash it’s just a little bump that can easily be fixed, if you want me to go down the car euphemisms route.’
She sighed as he turned to see her smiling.
Finlay smiled back as Sylvie stepped closer and sat next to him on the bed, taking his hand. He looked down at how small her hand was compared to his.
‘When did you find out about her fling?’ she asked quietly as he stroked the skin on the back of her hand, feeling the softness and warmth.
‘August,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ve seen her once since then and … she was walking down the road and smiling. I thought she was doing that to me but realised it was that fucker she was looking at.’
‘August is a wicked month so some writer said in one of her books. My husband died in August, 27th to be exact. Car accident, well it wasn’t really. He was hit when he was cycling. The man got twenty two months for not looking where he was going and was let out after a year, for good behaviour. No doubt he’s driving around reducing the amount of cyclists on the roads.’ Finlay looked at Sylvie who was staring straight ahead. ‘He was doing it for charity, not the driver, my husband. Raising money for something his mother wanted him to do. The upside is when he died, lots of money was donated.’
He didn’t know what to say as she sat there for a moment, his hand still touching hers as she shrugged.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently as she faced him and knew she was biting back some tears.
‘I think the real reason we’re sitting here, right now, is that I don’t really matter to you in the big scheme of things but I can sympathise with your feeling of being let down,’ Sylvie said quietly. ‘And I really do need someone to hold me now and again.’
Finlay leaned forward and kissed her forehead before wrapping his arms around her as she buried her head in his neck. He closed his eyes and knew he wasn’t going to pretend with her, he’d just be honest and open.
The thing he realised about Sylvie is she was right.
She didn’t matter in the real scheme of things and that made her perfect as all he needed was someone to sound off at.
Sylvie was willing to listen and he wanted to talk.
‘So?’ Sylvie asked, seeing his pensive expression an hour later when she thought the best thing the pair of them could do was work. ‘You agree with the changes?’
‘I don’t know why you’re asking me when you’re going to do it anyway,’ he said balancing his computer on his lap as he was sat up against the top of the bed. ‘It seems more logical.’
‘I’ve emailed it to Piers and I’ll see him on Wednesday to go through it.’
‘Does he have a
ny say?’
She started to laugh noticing the sharp green eyes looking at her. Her aim was to deflect his maudlin mood and make him work. The man was supposed to be a business genius and she wanted to see if that was just the PR on his company website or if there was a grain of truth in it.
Sylvie sat at the end of the bed and smiled for a moment as he grinned back. Finlay, though not in a very good mood, looked handsome as she continued to type away.
‘And you don’t make a big enough mark up on your products plus the delivery costs are too low,’ he sighed, shaking his head. ‘It’s about making money not trying to be the Asda of sex toys.’
‘Nothing wrong with Asda and I’m surprised you even knew they existed,’ she laughed. ‘And we can’t over price or we don’t get the business.’
‘But if you think the quality of your service speaks volumes, then why don’t you try?’ Finlay smiled. ‘And I shop at Waitrose.’
‘Wouldn’t have expected anything less,’ she smirked before putting down her laptop. ‘It’s quite good having a meeting without being interrupted.’
‘We’ve never had a proper meeting in all the weeks I’ve been at the company, mainly due to interruption or you doing minimal hours.’ She watched him glance at her mischievously. ‘Though I do know you work hard, not sure why if you’re not getting paid.’
‘Nothing else to do,’ she said honestly and stood up. ‘My life exists around my daughter and work. Fills in the missing gaps then I don’t have to think too hard about other things.’
Sylvie grinned at him and noticed Finlay was emotionless as he looked at her.
‘You miss him a lot, don’t you?’ he asked quietly.
‘I died with him,’ Sylvie replied, still with a cheerful smile. ‘I won’t ever be able to get that back. That’s why I don’t mind hanging out with you while you sort out your life. At least you have one. Other than Daisy, mine’s just an existence.’
Turning, she walked off to the bathroom and took a quick pee, washed her hands and checked the time. It was after eleven thirty and she wondered if she should go back to the office. Then she was momentarily distracted with the shower caps and took a couple before going back into the room.
Finlay had packed the laptops away and was sitting up on the bed.
‘Are we going back to the office?’ she asked looking to find he’d put the bags on an armchair while he was rummaging through his wallet. ‘Do you think I stole a credit card or cash?’
‘You’re not funny,’ he replied, then pulled out a receipt. ‘Ah!’
‘What?’ she asked walking towards him.
‘The day my wife effectively broke my heart was also 27th August,’ Finlay said and let out a sad sigh as Sylvie felt sorry for him realising they had one thing in common.
‘Well we’ll make sure we won’t get married on that day!’ she laughed out wanting desperately to cheer him up only to be met with a frown. ‘And you know what? If your wife was having an affair shouldn’t you get checked out?’
‘What checked out?’
‘Sexual health?’ she said as he stared blankly at her. ‘STI’s and things.’
Sylvie wanted to laugh at his sudden shocked expression before shaking his head wildly.
‘No!’ he said dismissively. ‘She’s careful about things like that and…’
Then there was no doubting his confusion as if he suddenly remembered something.
‘Finlay, you are a bit of a stuck up arsehole, aren’t you?’
‘Pardon me?’
‘No, I don’t pardon you!’ she laughed out seeing him flash her one of his dirty looks. ‘You’ve told me in the past ninety minutes you wouldn’t be seen dead out with me, you sort of fancy me but it could be that’s because you’re in emotional turmoil. I suspect you’d never admit we might have kissed should it sully your reputation. I really am your ideal bit on the side until you get a grip and make up with Julie, who we know, would never sleep with someone who had an STI.’
‘Juliette,’ he corrected sharply and jumped off the bed walking towards his boots he’d kicked off. ‘And this is your idea of cheering me up?’
‘For fuck’s sake Finlay,’ she said jumping up on the bed and looking down at him. ‘You’re feeling so sorry for yourself and it’s silly. And being a typical man, you think a bit of rumpy pumpy might make it all right.’
‘Fuck you!’ he shouted and she wanted to laugh at his angry face. ‘What gives you the right to judge me?’
‘The same right you’ve judged me since we met,’ she said continuing to jump up and down on the bed, knowing he was wound up.
‘That’s because you’re …’ He hesitated for a moment as she stopped and waited to see what was going to come out of his mouth.
‘Open and honest?’
‘You come across as cheerful and you’re not! Plus the way you speak! I mean, what’s that about?’
‘It’s my voice,’ Sylvie said seeing he was getting flushed. ‘You don’t like my voice?’
‘Well, you don’t speak like the others.’
‘What? Polish?’
‘Fuck Sylvie, you know what I mean!’
‘This is Chiswick,’ she said quietly, before bouncing on the bed again. ‘I was brought up here and that’s how we speak. Admittedly my mother has a Guyanese accent and I occasionally use the same intonation on some words like ‘rass’.’ She smiled as he stared. ‘I don’t fit into one of your boxes, do I?’
‘And work?’ he huffed. ‘You know nothing about business and your work history isn’t what I expected.’
‘I think you’re trying to tell me something?’ she teased.
‘I think it’s all to do with subterfuge! You’re not who you say you are! Jesus! You’re just not that easy to figure out!’
‘You think I’m a spy?’ Sylvie started to laugh as she watched him grab his jacket. ‘And a thief?’ Finlay hurriedly put it on before picking up his case and walking to the door. ‘And you don’t have to figure it out as you know I’m good at kissing.’
He stopped.
She stood still on the bed as he turned to look at her for a moment.
‘What do you want from me?’ he asked quietly, as she grinned.
‘What do you want from me, is the real question.’
Sylvie watched as he put down his case and took off his jacket then kicked off his shoes. She stepped closer and looked down at him, realising she fancied the arse off the man and didn’t want him to leave the room.
‘Are you really separated?’ she asked quietly. ‘I don’t want to find out you’ve been lying to me.’
‘Sadly I am,’ he replied and from the expression, Sylvie knew he was telling the truth.
Gently she bent down and kissed him.
‘Now I know what it feels like to stoop down to kiss me,’ she said staring into his eyes before flinging herself back on the bed. ‘Our meetings will be work then play, which is hugging and kissing as you’re not to commit adultery plus there could be a germ aspect.’
He stood at the end of the bed then slowly crawled up until he reached her face.
‘Why can’t I sleep with someone else if she’s done it?’ he asked taking his nose and touching her face. ‘We’re not together.’
‘Because you need to try and fix it not cause a major crack,’ she whispered into his skin before feeling his mouth on hers.
The kiss was slow and deep.
She felt him hug her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. Something stirred in her loins and she knew there was something about Finlay that turned her on. Then she realised he was trying to do just that, as his hand gently went up and down her side before she felt him squeeze her breast and let out an involuntary groan.
‘You know they hang either side and have to be rolled up when I put my bra on,’ she whispered seeing him smile for a moment.
‘Then you’ll have to go on top,’ Finlay whispered as she felt him push his hand under her top. ‘You’re so soft.’
‘You mean squidgy?’
‘Lovely and smooth.’
‘Old lady skin,’ she giggled as he pulled away and she realised he did look young.
He had lines around the eyes and forehead but his skin was very good, blemish free and smooth. There were freckles which made him look cute. She stroked his cheek as he lunged for her mouth and this time the kiss was very passionate as she felt him stroke her back, sides and breasts before grinding his hard on between her legs.
Something told her she had to stop.
It was her sensible head talking but all she wanted to do was carry on with whatever he was doing, as her hands travelled up his back, feeling his smooth skin as she started to get hot. Finlay kissed her throat, his head moving down to her chest plate.
She couldn’t breathe.
Then the sensible voice came into her head.
‘We have to stop,’ she said quietly, as he looked up back in her eyes, his lips very pink. ‘I don’t want to take advantage here.’
‘Take advantage,’ he said before smiling.
They looked at each other as she kissed him gently on the lips and pushed him off. He lay sprawled on the bed staring at the ceiling, evidently frustrated. Sylvie smiled for a moment before smoothing down her clothing and readjusting her bra which she knew he was trying to pull down at one point.
‘When’s your birthday?’ she asked as he frowned.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Day and month.’
‘18th July.’
‘Oh, you were the youngest in your year. How sweet!’
‘I’m not talking to you,’ he grumbled as she wanted to laugh, not knowing why.
‘Fin? Can I call you Fin when we’re alone?’ There was a faint shrug. ‘I’m ten years older than you and that’s a lot in dog years. No quip about me being a dog.’
‘You’re certainly on heat, so am I.’
Sylvie walked to the bed and sat down next to him as he looked up.
‘I have been known to go with a posh one before,’ she smiled, before leaning closer to his face. ‘And I work for your stepfather, work with your brother not forgetting your mother is in the equation here. I’m a widow with an eight year old child and you’ll never be able to stay the night as it’s just not a probability.’ Sylvie let out a little laugh. ‘And I don’t think there are enough disinfectant wipes in production if you ever do come round.’