by K. L. Jessop
“I hope it burns your throat,” I snap.
***
The silence that has been inside these four-white clinical walls the past few hours has been driving me crazy. The ticking of the clock has irritated me to the point where I’ve nearly flung my shoe at it, and the distraction of Andrew’s scent has had me writhing in my seat. I’ve watched him more than I’ve worked, trying to figure out what it is that’s so irritatingly sexy about him. There is something about a man with a five o’clock shadow that makes me weak at the knees, and it frustrates me that he’s the one that ticks all the right boxes.
That’s until he opens his mouth. But with having the time to cast glances at him from across the room it occurs to me that having worked in the same building as him for the last three years and shared drinks with him with friends, I know less about him than I realise.
“Now this is what I like to see,” Amelia beams as she enters the office. “Two gorgeous people working hard and not clawing each other’s eyes out.”
“Believe me there’s time yet,” I say loud enough for Andrew to hear. I swear a smile tugs his lips, but it’s gone in an instant.
“What can I do for you, Amelia?” Andrew asks. It sends an unwanted spike of jealously to my gut when he beams at her.
“I’ve just finished off the rotas for the next month, and I’ve looked over the paperwork you asked about regarding next month’s meeting. It’s all in order, so we can go ahead and send out the correspondence for that in the morning.”
I love Amelia when her head is in business mode. She can be vulnerable and lost, but place files in front of her and that fiery confidence seeps out of her pores.
“Excellent,” Andrew replies. “Anything else I need to know of before you head off?”
“The new receptionist starts tomorrow now that Megan has been taken off the role. Felicity has agreed to do a couple extra shifts so she can show her the ropes, and Claudia is there as a back-up if things get out of hand.”
I look up and interrupt their conversation. “I’m sure that won’t happen, Felicity is great at what she does. She’s a great teacher.”
Amelia crinkles her nose and smiles in agreement. Andrew, however, says nothing.
“What’s she like, this new girl?” he asks her. “I can’t remember her from the interviews.”
“She’s the one Marcus and I interviewed. Her name is Carrie. She’s great; full of enthusiasm, and is waiting to meet you downstairs.”
“Fantastic. Is there anything else?”
“Only that I’m taking this beauty to lunch.”
“Yes!” I jump up in excitement but can’t help my cheekiness when my eyes find Andrew’s. “Please, sir, may I leave the desk?”
He mutters something under his breath, takes his suit jacket from the back of his chair and exits the room.
“You really have to stop teasing,” Amelia laughs.
I wave her off with my hand. “And where would the fun be in that?” I switch off my computer and grab my bag.
“Are you ready?”
“For tequila?”
She grins. “Megan, it’s not even late afternoon.”
“But it is somewhere in the world.”
Rubies is perfect for a chilled afternoon when you need to clear your head. I kick off my heels and place my legs up on the spare seat in front, feeling the tension drain from me as I gulp down my wine.
“How the fuck do you work with him anyway? The man’s more hormonal than a woman,” I say causing Amelia to giggle. “I mean it’s only been a couple of days and I’m exhausted. I can’t work out if I prefer it when he’s throwing insults or when he’s quiet.”
The man is too quiet.
“Once you get to know him better, he’s a really good guy. Trust me: he’s fun.”
I stare at her. She’s crazy, right? “Don’t talk shit, Amelia. There is no such thing as fun in a man like Andrew Harris.”
Of all the times we’ve ever spent on the beach as a group—or at Rubies enjoying the weekends—he’s never seemed like he’s enjoying himself. Conversations have always been few and far between (whenever we’ve been lucky enough to have one with him) and if I’d ever seen him smile, I’d have had to sit down with shock. The man is so closed off.
But why?
This is one thing that I want to learn more of—scrape the surface and open him up to see what does go on in that gorgeous head of his.
I turn to face Amelia, who’s devouring a slice of cold pizza. Her hair is up in a messy bun and her face is as fresh as ever. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me here for three weeks. What am I going to do with my time?”
“I’m sure you’ll find something… or someone… to occupy you.”
I grin. “Careful. You make me sound like I’m easy.”
“Are you not?” She laughs with raised brows.
“You better come back,” I order, eating my own slice of pepperoni pizza.
“Of course we’ll come back. We’re only going so Marcus can tie up a few business deals and see his mum.”
“You do realise this is the first time in years that we’ll be apart? I don’t know how I’ll cope,” I tease. Everyone knows that Amelia and I are inseparable, but I’m happy that she’s now in a content place in life where she feels safe leaving me.
“You’ll be fine, babe,” she smiles. “You’ve got Jack and Felicity. And there’s always Andrew.”
I decide to add more dramatics and place my hand over my heart. “I’m getting anxiety separation already. Now I know what twins might feel like if their parents should put them in separate schools.”
Amelia bursts out laughing as I continue to talk through my own giggle. “Don’t be surprised if you find me rocking in the corner with numerous tequila bottles around me when you return.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic.”
“I’m not. I’m being realistic. Three weeks with Andrew is enough to drive anyone to drink.”
Chapter Six
Andrew
“Good afternoon. It’s Megan Simmons from The Grand Hotel. May I speak with a Mr Jason Kelly, please?”
She speaks professionally when on the phone. My quiet office that once brought me peace has been destroyed by a sexy blonde that has a love affair with tequila and drunken table dancing. I thought I would be able to handle this, only the more she’s here the harder it is to not visualise touching every part of her. That sassy mouth is making me warm to her more than what I would like.
Giving her an indication that she’s knocking my guard down will no doubt entice her flirtatious behaviour more, though.
My track record with women has been far from pleasant. With their twisted games and my ability to somehow cause them pain, it hasn’t done me any favours in getting to keep what I want, and even though I treat Megan like shit, I do it for good reason. My behaviour is simply a matter of protection—treat her like crap and she’ll hate me. I need her to hate me, as it’s the only way it’ll keep her safe—from me. However, every time I fire something at her, she throws it right back. And I like that.
I like the fact she’s not afraid to stand her ground, keep up the fight when she knows she’s right and will fight tooth and nail to protect those she cares for. She’s confident, intelligent and passionate when her head is in the game: everything I admire in a woman.
“Hi, Jason, this is Megan from The Grand...”
Her words drift from me as I’m drawn to her lips as she speaks into the receiver. She’s wearing lip-gloss today. The light sheen of pink catches the light making her lips look more plump and delicious than ever. I want those lips on mine again. I want to chase her tongue with my own as her slender fingers grip the muscle of my shoulders. I want my body locked between her thighs and my fist wrapped in her snow-white hair while I fuck her on the desk and make her mine.
“Jesus,” I hiss, tormenting myself with my sexual fantasies. I need this shit to stop.
Regrettably, I get her attention.
&n
bsp; Placing her hand on the phone receiver to cover it, she looks over. “Everything alright, Andrew?”
“Fine.”
“Only you look a little stressed.”
“And I’ll be less stressed if you stop talking to me and get back to what you were doing.”
She rolls her pretty blue eyes and mumbles something before returning to her call.
I was always informed that women weren’t happy around me. One way or another I damage their hearts just by being around them. My mother often reminded me of that—told me I was not good enough and never would be, and that being out of the way would make everyone’s lives easier. We all have that one family member that makes you miserable just by being around them, and I was that person for my parents. I don’t know why I picked up after my mother like I did. Even when she spoke to me like shit, I still wanted to please her, but I wanted to have a mother like the other kids in school, not some fucking psycho that cared more about her wealth and champagne than her only child.
“That was Jason from the France cuisine company,” Megan says to me from across the room. “He’s coming to view the hotel to get a feel of the place before he finalises the booking, and he’s wanting to do that on Thursday at midday.”
I already know of Jason: we’ve crossed paths a few times on business conventions. He’s a prick in a business suit that thinks by flashing the plastic and feeding women scallops, it will have them falling at his feet. He’s already pulled one over on Megan. Coming here to get a ‘feel’ of the place is absolute bullshit seeing as though he’s already stayed here a few times. But if I’m honest, that isn’t the cause of my sudden irritation: it’s the fact that him coming here provides another opportunity for a man to eye-fuck Megan like every other one that enters the bay. It’s that that makes me uncomfortable.
“And you’re telling me this because?”
“I’m simply keeping you in the loop, Andrew. You are my colleague, after all.”
“Manager,” I correct her. “I’m your manager.”
“Which is even more reason to keep you updated.” She holds my gaze from her seat. “You know you’ve not so much as asked me how I’m doing since I started.”
I don’t need to: I check her paperwork every morning before she even enters the office. What she’s doing is great for a job that requires time and commitment. Megan has always been persistent in her work—that was evident when she was working on the reception floor—so I have every faith she will succeed with her work now.
“Well?” she adds.
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to look over what I’ve done?”
“Megan, even an idiot is capable of using the phone and arranging meetings.”
Her eyes widen a little.
Jesus, I need to stop, put a lid on it and get my shit together before I’m on a verbal harassment charge in the work place.
“Yes, but knowing whether I’m contacting the right candidates for the programme is something I’d like a second opinion on. All I’m asking for is some fresh eyes, just to make sure I’m doing it correctly. Where’s the harm in that?”
I’m surprised her shitty attitude hasn’t jumped up a notch. To say I’m constantly jabbing crap at her, she’s taking it quite well. I’m not sure if I like that.
“Or I can just ask Marcus and inform him that my manager is being a dick.”
Shit.
Having him on my case is the last thing I want. Against my better judgment, I decide to entertain her request. “Fine. Show me what you’ve got.”
Her beam almost knocks me on my ass. I sit myself back down at my desk and she comes over with her diary and papers, perching herself on the edge of the oak wood. “So, I’ve split it into sections. Here are the companies I’ve had correspondence from, and the highlighted ones are those that I feel would be more beneficial for Rubies rather than here. I figured with the club portraying a little more of a moody feel, the likes of French cuisine and fine wines wouldn’t go with the vibe.”
She smells incredible. She is all that I want but everything I shouldn't have. I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything she’s saying. One quick move and I could have her captured by the mouth and spread out in front of me.
Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?
“Andrew, are you even listening?”
I clear my throat. “Of course.”
“Well, like I said, I’ve got Jason’s meeting on Thursday and the rest of the week is looking pretty busy too with four meetings arranged at Rubies. One of them is with Jack tomorrow to talk about the possibility of an open mic night.” The excitement in her voice is evident. That sort of entrainment has Megan’s name all over it. “Do you think that would work well? Obviously I won’t go for anything cheap and untalented.”
“It’s an event that would work better at Rubies rather than here, so you’ve done well in distinguishing the two types of entertainments you need to focus on.” My reply is meant to be a little patronizing but the look on her face suggests she’s taken it better than she was supposed to. Her lips curve, and there’s a sparkle in her ice-blue eyes as though I’ve just enhanced her day by complementing her.
I look back at her diary. “Unfortunately, though, the meeting with Jason needs to be cancelled.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I said so.” I don’t wish to discuss why and as her manager she’s in no position to question it, she just needs to do as I’ve said. Only it seems she’s not prepared to, as the attitude is back, instantly.
“Andrew, you’ve just heard me make the arrangements.”
“And now I’m telling you to rearrange them. I’m out of the hotel that day.”
“And this affects me how?” Her brows rise.
That underlying frustration builds in my chest. “Just reschedule the meeting, Megan,” I order.
“Not until you tell me why. I can’t just cancel a meeting for no reason.”
“It’s only with Jason.”
“And it’s still business, Andrew.”
I need space.
I stand, but she stands with me, blocking me from getting past. She’s too close, her proximity and is causing my skin to prickle.
“Tell me why I need to cancel.”
Does she ever give up?
“I have an appointment, and with Amelia and Marcus leaving first thing, I need you to be here.”
Her eyebrows pull slightly. “But I checked: there’re no meetings in the book.”
“That’s because it’s personal.” I never state my personal affairs with my colleagues’. It leads to too many questions. Only Marcus and his mother know of my personal circumstances and that’s how it needs to stay.
Her shoulders relax, and the look of concern in her eyes makes me a little uneasy that she cares. However, that doesn’t stop me wanting to pull her into my arms with the hope that she’ll give me the sense of security I’ve been trying to find all these years.
“Is everything alright?” she murmurs.
“Just cancel the meeting, Megan.” I’m about to move past her when my office door swings open and Marcus enters with an abrupt stop.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?” I bark.
“Have I ever told you that you’re an arsehole?” he jokes. He looks at the closeness of which Megan and I stand, and a grin rapidly spreads across his face. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No,” we both say in unison. Megan steps away, breaking the connection that I suddenly want back.
“Only I just need a word with my wingman.”
“Take your time,” Megan says getting her bag. “I need a break.”
I watch her as she heads for the door. I’m too tired to argue with the fact she’s leaving.
“I’ll see you tonight?” she says, kissing Marcus on the cheek.
Once she leaves, he turns back to me, his hands in his pockets and that shit-eating grin still on his face.
“Don’t,” I order.
>
“Never said a word,” he says, looking back towards the door before adding. “But you know you need to be careful.”
“Why?”
“Being that close to a woman will cause your dick to go hard.”
“Fuck you.” I chuckle.
***
“Is this really necessary?” I ask Amelia who’s sitting down on the sand.
“You think it’s too much?”
“That you’re having a party because you’re going away for three weeks? No, I don’t think it’s too much at all,” I tease. “Anyone would think you’re moving to the other side of the world. You’ve even managed to get Jack to leave the club.”
“That’s rich, considering you’re married to your office, ass-wipe.” Jack jokes as he pops open his beer. “Careful the daylight doesn’t blind you.”
“Ha! touché.” Marcus laughs.
We’re at Marbles cove: a small white beach that’s hidden away from the rest of the town and owned by Marcus. You can see this place from his balcony, and it’s only accessible to the few people that are here now.
“So, Amelia, what’re your plans whilst Marcus is working?” Jack asks.
“She’ll be right beside me working even harder,” Marcus replies.
“That’s what you think. Your mother has organised some spa days as well as a couple of girl’s nights out.”
“Oh, God, babe, don’t tell me that. I’ll have to ring around every club in London telling them to hide the brandy bottles and any male doorman that they may employ.”
The group laugh at Marcus’ disapproval over his mother. Rosa is a minx when the brandy is out, and she loves to tease her son with her kittenish behaviour just to see him squirm.
Movement from afar catches my eye. I see Megan heading down the beach, and my heart rate picks up. She’s wearing a long white dress that flows in the wind—her long blonde hair sweeping across her face and covering her blue heart shape sunglasses—carrying her sandals by her fingers. This ‘trying to avoid her’ routine isn’t working because I find myself looking for her when she’s not around. All I’ve done this past week is hold my pen in one hand and my cock in the other, ending the day with her name on my lips as I off load my release.