“Hey, Greer, they’re having problems with a couple of the concepts we’re working on for a pitch. I told them to bring them over and I’d take a look. I hope that’s okay with you?”
“Sure, as long as you’re up to it. I’ll move all this stuff so you have somewhere to work.” Greer begins to gather up papers before my hand on her arm stops her.
“No, don’t worry about it. We can use the coffee table.” It’s the first real physical contact, apart from Greer’s first aid, we’ve had since our almost-kiss yesterday, and it sends a buzz up my arm. Suddenly the air is thick with unspoken feelings, and I can’t seem to pull my hand from her warm skin. “Greer—”
I’m not sure what I’m about to say, but this time we’re interrupted by Greer’s phone ringing. We both sigh with frustration.
“How’s the patient?” Will’s voice comes through loud and clear.
“Oh, Will, hi. He’s much better this afternoon. Do you want a word with him?”
Greer hands me the phone and heads for the kitchen where she puts on the kettle. I try to focus on my conversation with Will, but I’m distracted by Greer moving around the kitchen. It’s hard not to look at her. Constantly. No sooner have I hung up the phone than the doorbell rings.
“That’ll be the guys,” I call and head slowly down the hallway on slightly wobbly legs to open the door, feeling equal parts irritation and relief at the constant interruptions to my time with Greer.
“Hey, boss, you look terrible,” Sean greets me as I usher them into Greer’s living room carrying laptops and notebooks. I roll my eyes, only to discover it hurts.
“Guys, this is Greer. Greer, this is Sean and Fiona.”
“Hi. Would you like some tea or coffee?” Greer offers, shaking their hands.
“Yeah, sure. Coffee thanks.” Fiona jabs Sean in the ribs as he stares at Greer. I hope it hurt. Lecherous fucker.
When Greer disappears into the kitchen, Sean pulls himself together enough to sit down and flip open his laptop.
“Try not to drool all over the sofa Sean. It’s not a good look,” quips Fiona.
“Man, she’s hot. You’re a lucky guy, boss.” Sean shakes his head with envy.
“She’s not … we’re not …” I start to explain, but I’m stopped by the look of disbelief on both their faces and the memory of the moment before the phone rang.
“Wow, you really are in a bad way!” Fiona laughs.
“Yeah, you don’t know the half of it.” I scrub my hands over my face, trying to restart my brain, wincing as my fingers connect with the emu-sized egg at the top of my forehead. “Okay, let’s have a look at what you’ve got.”
In the end, Sean and Fiona stay for more than an hour. Greer sits at the dining table working on her laptop, and I can sense her watching and listening from time to time.
What’s left of the afternoon passes into evening with Greer beavering away on the plans for the house as I work on some copy Sean and Fiona left behind. It’s late when we notice how hungry we are and decide to put together a spicy stir-fry to eat on the tiny balcony, which Greer has decorated with fairy lights and candles.
“So, you’re not only a great nurse, you’re a bit of a Nigella Lawson in the kitchen as well.” The food is delicious, and I’ve managed to polish off a second bowl.
“Yep. I’m a regular domestic goddess,” Greer replies, smiling.
After a brief tussle during which Greer makes it clear I’m less than useful in my current state, she clears up in the kitchen while I search the streaming services for something we might both like to watch. Settling down on the sofa with tea and chocolate biscuits for dessert, I think about how much we’ve been enjoying each other’s company. I’ve been careful not to touch her. Every time I do, the tension between us, always simmering under the surface, rises like steam off a hot spring and spoils the developing atmosphere of friendship. And friends are all we can ever be. It’s a concept I need to get through my thick head. Or my thick something else.
“Well, I think it’s my bedtime.” I yawn and stretch as the credits roll. “Do you need the bathroom?”
“No, you go ahead.” Greer turns off the TV and heads back to the pile of notes on the dining table. “I’ll be up for a while yet.” I can almost see her fingers itching to get back to her drawings, which kicks up my excitement to get the project started.
“Okay. Thanks for today. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Her answering smile is soft, and my heart kicks in my chest at the thought that in another world, maybe I could watch her smile at me like that again, and again. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out then, isn’t it?”
Next morning, I’m up and about early, determined to get to the office. There’s so much to do, and it’s too early in my tenure to be taking my hands off the wheel, even for a couple of days.
Greer wanders into the kitchen in a silky singlet and pyjama shorts as I’m trying to fill the kettle for tea. Sadly, there’s no sign of any kind of coffee machine. Looking at her dressed —or more to the point, undressed—in pyjamas is perilous, yet I can’t look away from all her creamy skin. She takes the kettle from me, fills it and switches it on.
“I’m going to call an Uber to get me down to Manly and pick up my car. I feel fine, and I really do want to get to the office today. We’ve got a pitch I’m determined to win on Friday and another on Monday. I can’t afford not to be on top of it.” I know enough of Greer to expect an argument, but I can be just as stubborn.
