‘No, please, it’s fine, Amanda. Honestly. I just need to make a quick call, if you’ll excuse me.’
Both Gregory and Williams rise from their seats when I hurriedly leave the table.
Sandy answers as I lean back against the stone sink in the ladies’. She tells me that Dad has had a good day and he’s tucked up in bed. She intends to put her feet up with an eighties’ movie and a peach melba pudding that she had delivered with the shopping today.
‘I’m at dinner with a client and I’m not sure how long I’ll be but I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I say, instantly feeling dishonest, despite telling the truth. ‘If you need me, just call and I’ll come straight back, I promise.’
‘You have fun; we’re fine here.’
‘Okay, but call me, Sandy. Do you promise?’
‘I promise, sweets, but we’re fine.’
‘Sandy?’ I say before she hangs up the receiver. ‘It’s sort of a client. A client but not completely a work thing. I mean, it is more a work thing than not a work thing.’
She chuckles, her warm, homely giggle emanating from her stomach.
‘You have fun,’ she repeats, then hangs up. She really is an amazing woman. A life-saver for me these days.
Leaning forwards on my hands over the sink, I study myself in the mirror and ask myself what I’m doing. Do not fuck this up! My rational brain tells me Gregory is a client but it fights a losing battle every time I lay my eyes on him. I tip my head upside down, partly to shake sense into it and partly to inject some life into my day-old curls. I reapply my red lipstick and tell myself I’d reapply for anyone, not just a sinfully attractive CEO.
‘Did I miss much?’ I ask, retaking my seat at the table.
‘Just Edward telling us tales of him and Gregory at their all-boys’ school. Or so it should have been. Edward was Gregory’s school ‘buddy,’ supposed to settle him into his new school, but he led him astray,’ Amanda chirps and she laughs with Williams.
‘You can’t learn everything in a classroom,’ Williams says.
My eyes flit to Gregory then quickly down to my glass of champagne and across the table to Williams. ‘Do you prefer Edward?’
‘I don’t mind really, although I am more likely to respond to Williams. This old boy seems to forget that I go by any other name.’
‘Less of the “old boy”,’ Gregory retorts.
I suddenly remember from my research that it’s his thirtieth birthday today. I wonder if that’s the only reason he’s taken time off on a Friday evening or if this is a regular occurrence.
‘Of course, happy birthday, Gregory,’ I say, raising my glass into the middle of the table.
His eyes narrow on Williams.
‘I didn’t say a word,’ Williams protests.
‘You seem to know things about me, Miss Heath,’ Gregory says as he clinks my glass with his. It’s there again, smooth and slick, saying my name like he could be performing oral on me.
‘More than you think but I still have a few questions.’
‘Is that right? Please, indulge my curiosity,’ he says as Williams and Amanda start up their own conversation in the background.
I look out to the view of the city and my office block, then back to Gregory. ‘I don’t like to mix business with pleasure,’ I tell him truthfully.
‘And which is this? Business or pleasure?’
Torture, I think. My cheeks flush under the intensity of his gaze. My mouth opens to speak but words fail me.
‘What else gives you pleasure, Scarlett?’ His voice is slightly hoarse, his irises dark, lids heavy.
There’s another wave of wantonness between my legs. A tidal wave. And I’d hazard a guess that my sex just got very wet. I take a deep, endless breath and cross one leg over the other, trying to control the rush of blood that’s pulsing in my clit and fuelling a need to be filled, completely consumed, by this man.
‘Theatre.’ I utter the first thing that comes to my head, barely audibly.
