“Seven, eh? There’s that number again,” he teased. “Then you should call now. If you’ve finished dinner.”
She stifled a giggle as she thought he really did sound like her dad, well, not her dad, but a proper dad;if you’ve finished dinner. She wondered whether she’d have to ask permission to leave the table. Looking down at her plate there was just a potato and a string bean, so yes, she’d finished.
“Feel free to make your call in the main living room or the bedroom if you’d rather.”
“Thank you.” She got to her feet feeling sick, knowing there were only a few reasons for her mother to call, none of them good.
“You look very beautiful tonight, Tasha. That colour really suits you.”
She looked down at the long, bronze, Grecian style dress that she was wearing and smiled. “Thank you,” she repeated.
“And don’t come back with panties on. I think we can start working on your restraint technique while we watch a movie.” He grinned at her broadly.
“No problem. I didn’t bother with underwear tonight.” She smirked as his expression changed. It suggested he was impressed, challenged almost.
Tasha turned to find a phone to use and decided against the bedroom, in case he followed her. She may not get back out of there until the flights to Vegas had been booked. The lounge area would be fine. The call wasn’t private as such, but she was glad for the physical space to gather her thoughts, if only for a few minutes. James was intense, this whole weekend was pretty intense.
She picked up the phone and dialled her mother’s number, but the line was dead. “International dialling code,” she told herself, realising her error. Trying again she ended up with reception at the other end of the line. “Sorry, wrong number.” She quickly hung up, frustration seeped through her every pore. Dialling a phone number was proving to be far more complicated than it needed to be and Tasha knew the reason for it. She didn’t really want to make contact, but needed to. She looked at the phone again. “Stupid bloody phone,” she hissed as she punched the number in again and obtained reception once more. With another apology, she hung up with a slam of the receiver and a curse at the phone and the recipient of the call she needed to make. “For fuck’s sake all I want to do is phone home, or not,” she cried before virtually throwing the phone down on the table with anxiety and concern rolling off her in waves, both things contributing to her inability to make the call.
“Temper, temper,” came the admonishment from behind her. “And that mouth again. Give it here, what’s the number?” Jim took the phone from her, punched in the number and passed it back. “It’s ringing.” Sitting down next to her, he offered a sympathetic and reassuring smile, somehow sensing this call was so much more than a simple call home or checking in.
“Hi, Mum, sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, it’s been a bit crazy here,” she said as the call connected and thought her words were a serious understatement.
“You’re so selfish, Tasha,” the other woman accused, an accusation Tasha simply ignored.
“Sorry,” she said again. She really was sick of the sound of that word leaving her mouth, but knew it was unlikely that her mother was worried, about her anyway.
“So how was the meeting? Your dad was excited about it when Dan let it slip.”
And there it was. The real reason for the missed calls.
“Okay, the meeting was okay. I don’t think I’ll get any work out if it, but I made a useful contact.” She stared at Jim and grimaced at the mere thought of her parents and everything that involved.
“So have I,” Jim whispered in her free ear and his hand disappeared beneath the dress he had pulled up around her knees.
No, surely he wouldn’t, not while she was on the phone.
“Who did you meet with?” her mother asked.
“Oh just a couple of execs from the studio, just faceless suits really.” Knowing her mother’s interest was at best fake and at worst conspiring she decided against actual names for fear of a Google search and what that might throw up including net worth.
Tasha meekly and obediently listened to her mother, discussing her needs, wants and gripes and eventually she ended the call after gaining a promise from Tasha that she would be in touch as soon as she returned home, which essentially meant get your cheque book out. Hanging up, Tasha looked sad and pre-occupied.
“Hey, you okay? Things all good at home?” Jim sounded as though he might actually care.
“Fine.” Tasha smiled tightly, kidding neither of them with her claim.
“Honey, if I can help,” he began, but Tasha immediately cut him off by pulling his face to hers. She silenced him with a kiss because she really, really wanted to tell him how not fine things were, but she didn’t know him well enough and the truth was likely to guarantee she never would.
Her possession of the kiss only lasted a matter of seconds, but it was long enough to distract her mind from thoughts of her parents and home. Jim took control of the kiss and wasted no time in moving things on. He was now on the floor resting his chin on her knees.
Looking up at her, he smiled. “Faceless suit, am I? I can do faceless for you, honey.”
She looked down at him, a confused frown creasing her brow, then remembered how she’d described him to her mother.
“Open your legs,” he commanded.
Tasha had no objection to his suggestion but was startled enough by the words that she remained rigid and non-compliant with her knees firmly clamped together.
