by Mandy Lee
‘Will you be bringing us drinks any time soon?’
Straightening up, I bang my head on an open cupboard door. Before I know it, I’m dazed and a pair of big, strong hands is gripping me by the shoulders.
‘Careful. You might knock some sense into yourself.’
I rub the top of my head and glance up into his bright blue eyes. No, don’t go there, my brain screams out at full volume. He’ll have you hypnotised before you bloody know it!
‘Get off me.’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Of course I’m bloody well alright.’ I shake myself free of his grip. ‘Where’s the fucking coffee?’
He struggles to suppress a smile. Taking a step past me, he opens up a cupboard, one that I’ve already been through at least twice, and pulls out a bag of filter coffee. And then he motions towards some sort of contraption that looks like a prop from a science fiction film.
‘I …’ I falter, rubbing my head some more. ‘I don’t know how to use one of those.’
‘Better learn then.’
He shoves the packet of coffee into my hands, swivels on his heels and in an instant, he’s gone. I stare in dismay at the coffee machine. What the hell am I supposed to do with that thing? I’ve just about managed to work out where the coffee should go when another voice startles me from the doorway.
‘We’re off now!’ It’s Mr Whatsit. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’
He winks at me and for a split second I toy with the idea of kicking him in the nuts. Instead, I smile sweetly and go back to the wretched coffee machine, grabbing a glass jug from underneath a stainless steel spout and staring at it, dumbfounded. According to the diary, the big kahuna’s got another four meetings this afternoon and I’d like to provide refreshments for at least one of them, though I have no idea why. Maybe I’m just enjoying the game. And maybe I just don’t want to be beaten.
‘Maya!’ I hear him calling me.
Dumping the glass jug onto the counter, I scurry back through reception and almost trip through the doorway into his office. He doesn’t notice. He’s busy flicking his way through a file.
‘What is it?’ I snap.
‘Bring my diary in,’ he mutters. ‘I’ve got a date to add.’
‘Do it yourself. I’m making coffee.’
I watch as he licks his finger, turning another page or two, apparently unbothered by my rudeness. He spends the next few seconds examining a graph before he finally looks up at me.
‘Miss Scotton,’ he smiles slowly. ‘Let me remind you that I’m in charge around here. Now do as you’re told.’
I feel a twinge of something down below, right between my thighs. And somehow I just can’t help myself. I hurry back out to reception, retrieve the diary and a biro, and return to him immediately. Without a word, he waves me into a chair that’s been positioned right next to his desk, watching me closely as I sink down into the leather.
‘Now,’ he says. ‘Thursday the thirtieth. I’ve got an on-site meeting at the Rowley shopping centre.’ He watches me some more, and I watch him right back, my temperature rising at the sight of his bloody wonderful face and his ruddy gorgeous eyes and his stonkingly perfect lips. He taps a finger against the desk and sighs. ‘Well write it in, woman.’
‘Screw you,’ I breathe.
I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m being feisty, and it’s working too.
His lips twitch.
‘The thirtieth,’ he repeats himself. ‘Write it in.’
‘Write it in,’ I mimic him. Opening up the diary and turning to the correct page, I scrawl the word Rowley as messily as I can. ‘Is that it?’
‘No, it’s not. Have I got anything on tonight?’
I flip my way back to today. There’s a huge list of meetings during the day and his next one is due any minute, but the evening is empty.
‘Nothing.’
‘Good. So, write this in. It’s just a little reminder to myself.’
I poise my pen, ready for the next messy entry.
‘Fuck my secretary.’
Oh, good Lord. What’s happening now? It’s as if some demented sex fairy is on the loose, tweaking me over and over again down below. Willing it to stop, I clamp my lips together and stare at him.
‘Good and proper.’ He points at the diary. ‘Make sure you add that bit.’
‘And what will Carla think when she gets back?’ I scribble the words fuck my secretary large across the bottom of the page, noting that he leans forwards anxiously as I do it. ‘I mean, she is your secretary, isn’t she?’ I add good and proper in capital letters, underscoring them a few times for good measure.
‘Not this afternoon, she’s not,’ he frowns. ‘This afternoon, you’re my secretary. You need to rub that out.’
He waves a hand at the diary.
‘No can do,’ I smile and I’m pretty sure he’s repressing a smile in return. ‘It’s in biro, and besides, you told me to write it. And anyway, why don’t you just fuck your secretary right now? Over there.’ I nod towards the sofa. ‘Like you did yesterday? And then why don’t you just ignore her afterwards and make her feel like an insignificant piece of crap?’
‘I’d love to fuck her right now. Over there.’ He nods towards the sofa. ‘I’d like to fuck her so hard she can’t speak for a week.’
‘Of course you would. I mean you’re not interested in a word she’s got to say. In fact, why let her talk at all? Why not just gag her?’
He leans further forwards.
‘What a wonderful idea. I’ll bear that in mind for later.’
‘There is no later.’
‘We’ll see about that. Now go and find some correction fluid and sort that diary out.’
‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you go and find some correction fluid and shove it up your arse?’
‘That’s very childish of you, Miss Scotton.’
‘Sack me then.’
I glare across the desk at him, while he glares back at me, all mean and hot and moody. I watch as his lips twitch, his fists clench, and I’m silently satisfied that I’ve just given him the mother of all hard-ons. In fact, I’m almost certain that he’s about to leap out of his chair and shove me backwards over the sofa one more time when I’m disturbed by the sound of a phone.
‘That’s your phone,’ he glowers. ‘Go and answer it.’
I push back my chair, storm out to reception, and grab the receiver.
‘Mr Foster’s office,’ I announce at the top of my voice. ‘What do you want?’
‘Who’s that?’ a male voice demands and I recognise it instantly. It’s Clive, the evil friend.
‘Mr Foster’s secretary.’
‘You don’t sound like Carla.’
‘That’s because I’m not Carla.’
‘Who are you then?’
‘I’m Mr Foster’s piece of skirt.’
‘Maya!’ I hear him call through the doorway. ‘Behave yourself!’
‘Well, Mr Foster’s piece of skirt,’ Clive Watson grumbles. ‘Would you mind putting me through to him now?’
I buzz through the call.
‘It’s your twat of a friend,’ I explain. I’m so proud of myself.
There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks.
‘Put him through … and Maya?’
‘Yes?’
‘Shut my door for me, please.’
Holding the phone to his ear and obviously waiting for privacy, he watches me as I pull the door to a close. While I make my way back into the kitchen and stare at the coffee machine, my mind begins to sift through the possibilities of what’s going on inside that office. Why on Earth doesn’t Dan want to talk within my earshot? And what on Earth could he be talking about? Well, I’m pretty damn sure it can’t be company matters because if it was, then the big kahuna wouldn’t be quite so bothered about secrecy. All I know for sure is that the evil friend took an instant dislike to me yesterday, and that following on from his visit, I was unceremoniously dumped fo
r a few hours. I come to the only conclusion I can. Clive Watson thinks I’m a worthless gold-digger. And perhaps, right now, he’s doing his level best to talk my prospective sugar daddy out of having anything further to do with me. I’m back at the desk when the door opens and Daniel Foster steps out into reception, a scowl plastered right across his face.
‘Did you and Clive have a nice conversation?’
He dismisses my question with a shrug and disappears into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, he returns, slams a cup of coffee down onto the desk for me and takes himself back inside his office. I’d like to go and ask him what’s got him so riled but the lift doors open one more time to reveal the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. Eyeing her closely as she approaches my desk, I take in the facts: she’s brunette, maybe early thirties at a push, a couple of inches shorter than me, and really incredibly slim. She seems to have no backside at all, and barely any breasts. Not like me. I’m well-endowed in both directions. And as for the clothes, well this lady is the polar opposite of Maya Scotton in every possible way. For a start, her tiny frame is draped in a designer dress and I’d bet a week’s wages that those are Manolo Blahniks on her feet.
‘Maya,’ she smiles. ‘So nice to meet you.’
‘Pardon?’ I gulp. I want to ask her exactly how she knows my name, but Dan’s already standing in the open doorway.
‘Lily.’ He holds out a hand. ‘I’ve got a few minutes before my next meeting. Come on in.’
I stare in disbelief as skinny Lily allows him to embrace her and plant a kiss on her perfectly made up cheek. Obviously gauging my reaction, he shoots a glance in my direction. I smile sweetly back at him. And that’s a bloody miracle, seeing as I’m already halfway to being on the boil. Is this really why he’s lured me into his office for the afternoon? To make it perfectly plain to me that I’m not the only woman in his life? And this woman has got ‘sexual deviant’ written all over her flawless little face. In a heartbeat, I decide that she must be one of his BDSM buddies, and if not that, then maybe one of his subs. Perhaps he’s going to take her into his office right now, tie her up and fuck her good and proper, just to make it absolutely clear how little I mean to him.
He motions her into his office, looks back at me one more time, and closes the door behind him. It’s a good half an hour later when she finally re-emerges. And while I’ve spent the time grudgingly answering the phone and scribbling out countless messages, I have no idea what she’s been up to. She looks just as immaculate now as she did when she went in. And no, the make-up hasn’t been smudged.
‘So,’ she breathes. ‘You’ll definitely be there.’
‘Without a doubt.’ He smiles. ‘Black tie?’
‘Black tie,’ she confirms. ‘It was nice to meet you, Maya.’ She turns to me. ‘I hope we meet again.’
What? So you can include me in one of your kinky threesomes? No way, lady! That’s never going to happen. He shows her to the lift, his hand on the small of her back and I sense a surge of jealousy.
‘Who was that?’ I demand when we’re finally on our own.
‘Lily.’
‘Lily who?’
‘Lily Babbage.’
I snigger.
‘It’s her name, Maya. And she’s my friend. It would be nice if you could show a little more respect.’
‘Lily Babbage,’ I murmur, leaning back in my chair. That’s a madam’s name if ever I’ve heard one.
The conversation is cut short by a group of new arrivals: a whole bevvy of people from Finance, including Clive the evil friend, who scowls down at me as he enters the inner sanctum. Screw you, a voice shoots out in my brain. You really don’t like me at all. Well, guess what! I don’t like you back!
Three meetings later, and I’ve pretty much had enough. I’ve managed to make coffee and even serve coffee, spilling it onto his carpet by accident only once, and across the huge glass meeting table twice, both times on purpose. I’ve witnessed more men and women in suits than I care to remember, and I’ve answered more phone calls and taken more messages than I care to forget. The last visitors left twenty minutes ago. I waved them off with my feet up on the desk before leaving him with a pad of badly scrawled, almost illegible messages and his telephone. I glance up at the clock. It’s nearly seven and I must have done my time by now. This game of silly buggers needs to come to an end. After all, I certainly didn’t let him beat me. But then again, I’m not entirely sure that I won.
It’s quiet now. Standing up and taking in a deep breath, I smooth down my skirt and decide that it’s time to call it a day on the whole charade. I find him sitting behind his desk, clutching the note pad, gazing out over the Thames where just about every inch of water seems to be bathed in the early evening sunlight.
‘Dan.’
He turns at the sound of my voice, fixing me with a long, unfathomable stare. ‘I’m going home.’
His forehead creases.
‘No, you’re not.’ He slides the pad onto the desk top. ‘You’re coming back to mine.’
‘I’m not, Dan. I don’t want to be messed about any more.’
He runs a hand through his hair.
‘I’m not messing you about.’ He looks up at me. His eyes are tired, his hair’s a ruffled mess, but oh God, he’s still incredibly handsome even when he is worn out. Pushing himself up from his chair, he comes round to my side of the desk, leans back on it and folds his arms across his chest. ‘I’m sorry. I should have contacted you last night.’
‘Then why didn’t you?’
He shakes his head, bites his lip.
‘I can’t explain. Please just let it go.’ His eyes bore into me, melting me, sending a delicious quiver right up my spine. He’s waiting for my reaction, and even though I’m not too happy about giving up, I just can’t help myself. I nod. Unfolding his arms, he allows the smallest of smiles to play across his lips. ‘Your email knocked me for six,’ he admits at last.
‘You deserved it.’
‘I know.’
‘So, why this?’ I wave my hand at the doorway. ‘Why the game?’
He shrugs his shoulders.
‘I needed to keep you here. I didn’t want you to run.’ He pauses. ‘And you nearly ran, didn’t you?’
‘How do you know?’
He takes in an almighty breath before launching into a confession.
‘I followed you at lunchtime. I watched you sitting in the window at that shit awful café. You sat in the same seat that we sat in the other day.’
‘You followed me?’
‘I did,’ he confirms. ‘What were you thinking about?’
‘How I should never let another man hurt me again in my life.’
He stares at me for a moment or two.
‘I hurt you.’ It’s not a question. It’s a statement. He lowers his head. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s not going to happen again. Forgive me.’
He gets up from the desk and takes a step forwards. He’s close to me now, so close I can feel his breath against my face.
‘So you followed me back here and got in the lift with me?’ I ask.
‘I did. You were in a world of your own. You didn’t notice.’
‘And was Carla really ill?’
He shakes his head.
‘I gave her the afternoon off. I couldn’t risk letting you go. This was all I could think of. I panicked.’ He smiles a small, lop-sided smile. A lock of blond hair falls across his forehead. He looks for all the world like a naughty schoolboy, and I just want to nuzzle my head in his neck. ‘So,’ he sighs. ‘I had an afternoon with the world’s worst secretary, but never mind. You didn’t do too much damage.’ He glances at the coffee stain on the carpet. ‘And at least you’re still here.’ I feel a hand at my back and I’m drawn in close. The other hand cups the back of my head, gently. He gazes down at my lips. ‘Come home with me tonight.’ He runs his lips over mine. They feel like silk.
‘I don’t think I can do this, Dan.’
‘Why no
t?’
Oh God, I’d better get this sorted in double quick time. I’m already starting to lose my mind. Any resolve, any determination is quickly disintegrating at the touch of his lips, the tightening of his hands. Fight back, my brain screams. Counter attack!
‘I can’t do a quick fling.’
He pulls his head back, fixing me with the come-to-beds.
‘Is that all you think I want?’
‘Men like you …’
‘There are no men like me. I’m a one off. And you’re a one off too.’ He leans forwards and his lips close around mine, firmly. He kisses me slowly at first, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I close my eyes, groaning at the intrusion and I just can’t help myself. My own tongue begins to explore, curling against his. The pressure of his lips increases. His fingers clutch at my hair. Oh God, I know where this is going. ‘I want you,’ he breathes. ‘I just can’t fucking help it.’
‘Dan.’
I open my eyes, finding myself locked in by his gaze, lost in the blue irises.
‘Shush, Miss Scotton.’ He brings a hand round to the front of my face and brushes a finger against my lips. Cocking his head to one side, he smiles. ‘You need to make amends for this afternoon.’
‘Make amends?’ I gulp. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’
‘I’ll give you one guess.’
And with that, he begins to guide me backwards, one determined step at a time, his eyes still fixed on mine. I’d like to turn round, to see where we’re headed but I’m held so tight, it’s impossible. Four steps is all it takes before I’m brought to a halt by a wall of glass. Shit, my brain calls out. He’s going to fuck you up against the window. You’re in big trouble here, lady!