‘Bring some home if you want,’ I reply evenly. I don’t want his flowers here, but can’t help if she does.
Dan’s reaction surprised me; I’d expected him to turn up at the building on Monday, and he had. He’d been informed I wouldn’t be in for the coming week. The part I hadn’t expected were the flowers preceding his arrival. It didn’t seem like his style. There were enough flowers to fill a hot house, apparently. Along with lengthy texts I’ve refused to read.Except that one time when his words made me cry.
‘Do I look like fucking InterFlora?’ she says, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I think you’re being cruel. Pick him up or set him down for another line if you’re through.’
‘What? Line?’ My mind went immediately to coke for some reason. That’s Flo’s sometime drug of recreation, not mine. As it happens, I’m no longer talking to my drug of choice.
‘It’s a fishing metaphor,’ Flo says with an apathetic wave of her hand.
‘Well, maybe I will.’ Returning to my paperwork, I whisper one more word. ‘Eventually.’
‘And,’ Flo continues, pulling herself straighter in the chair. ‘When are you coming back in? You can’t hide out here forever like some hermit.’
‘This isn’t a cave, and I’m not hiding. I had vacation to take.’ And a plan to create. ‘I’ll be back in the office tomorrow.’
‘On Friday? Hardly worth it. Why not wait until after the weekend?’
‘Come in? Stay away?’ I tease, smiling. ‘Make up your mind. Besides, I’ve a meeting to attend.’
And I have, but it’s not the kind of meeting I care to discuss.
~*~
Dressing for work the next morning, I’m meticulous. If Flora’s privileged background is her armour, then mine is my work attire. Tasteful and understated, lots of blacks, buff tones, and muted greys. Pencil skirts and blouses, cashmere sweaters, and occasionally, pants. The only suggestion of vibrancy Monday through Friday are my painted toenails, which nobody ever sees, anyway.
But not today. This morning, my armour is a wrap-dress in ruby red. Nude heels reveal another flash of scarlet from their peep-toe, my legs tanned and bare. I pin up my hair, creating a careless effect, a dozen bobby pins holding together a look that says,I’ve fallen out of bed like this. I keep my makeup light but for opt for lush, red lips.
Today, I’m a siren, and every man I pass will hear my call.
I rarely wear heels for work and find as I do so today, as well as slowing my gait and making me late, they also aid my sense of womanly power.
Mid-morning, I seek out Luke in his office; my heels the cause of my saunter, my swaying hips the effect. Perching my bottom on the edge of a chair next to his, he doesn’t acknowledge my presence until I whisper his name.
Looking up from his laptop, Luke’s head does an almost comedic double take, though I don’t find any humour in it. Instead, I bring his attention to a sliver of thigh peeking from my dress, then back to my face by ghosting my hand from my leg to my chest. I rest it against my collarbone, clasped lightly there as we chat about this and that. As I lean across his desk to grasp a pen, Luke’s attention becomes a little lost, falling from the path of our conversation, his attention dropping from my face to my breasts... travelling further to the parting at my dress.
I inhale sharply because, believe it or not, the flash of lace between my thighs, though effective, is an accident.
Sitting back, I pull my dress back into place with an oops for propriety’s sakes. We speak of work for a while longer while I try to gain the courage to raise the topic of this weekend, eventually asking Luke if he has plans. Before he has a chance to answer, I boldly ask him if he’s a member of the Lion’s Den. After all, he was the one who’d instigated our trip to the more public side of the club all that time ago. Asking carries a risk, a bit like exposing myself, but these are both risks I’m willing to take today.
Disappointment blooms in my chest as Luke says he doesn’t hold a membership.Effort wasted, more plans to be sought. It takes me a moment to realise he’s still speaking. Not a member, he says, but he has visited, recently expressing an interest in joining their membership ranks. He’s confident he can get his hands on a couple of guest passes.
‘I can’t believe it.’ He looks a little astonished as he pushes both hands through his hair. ‘You’ve never shown me any interest before. I even asked you out.’
‘Well, that was before,’ I say, keeping my eyes on the pen, my stomach twisting as I prepare what to say next. ‘Before I knew you were like me.’ An abomination. Kinky. Fucked up. Take your pick.
‘I-I’ll sort my membership today. I really can’t believe it,’ he repeats, pushing his chair back from his desk. ‘The most gorgeous girl in the building likes me, and the way I like to fuck.’
‘Slow your roll,’ I reply lightly to conceal the wave of fear rolling through me. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. At least, not until we’re inside.’
‘Tell the truth,’ he says, a predatory smile growing. ‘You wouldn’t have mentioned it if you weren’t serious about playing.’
‘Maybe,’ I whisper, my eyes sliding from his again. ‘Or maybe I’m just curious.’
He looks at me, and Ijust knowhe’s hoping I mean bi-curious. Some men can be so shallow in their intent. But plan or not, I’m not eating pussy for him. I want to ask what Scott said about last weekend, knowing a man of his ilk would’ve spouted some shit about the hot, freaky Yank and the things he knows. But I don’t ask. It’d just complicate things.
Luke says he’ll make a few phone calls, so we set a date for this evening and I move from the chair by his desk with a confident hop. While inside, my heart twists as though tied by Dan’s rope.
Chapter Thirty-Two
