‘I was just thinking of changing my name to ’Enry ’Iggins.’
‘Okay,’ she answers carefully. ‘Whatever tickles your pickle, I suppose.’ Her gaze glides away but moves back sharply. ‘You mean Henry Higgins, professor?’ She enunciates the words with a perfectly sharp Sloan Square accent.
I lean back as though to glance behind her, bringing my lips closer to her ears. ‘Keep your knickers on, my fair lady. I was just thinking about how relaxed you seem. Something to do with this morning’s activities, maybe?’
To my surprise and utter delight, Heather initiated things this morning. The light outside was grey, heavy rain lashing against the windows and tempting me to hitsnoozeon my morning alarm. Even Elvis, who’s usually eager to get outside first thing for his morning sniff, had lumbered off the bed only to climb into his basket and begin snoring softly again. I’d stayed on my back, one arm flung out in the direction of my phone, warding off the workday for a little bit longer, enjoying the ambient play of the light; the contrast of the rainy grey clouding the windows and the light in the room. Heather had stirred, reaching for the glass of water she likes to keep at her side of the bed. The next thing I knew, she was dragging two wet fingers along my morning wood. I groaned but didn’t speak. Neither did she. But there were smiles and somnolent kisses. And sighs more suited to the tone of the hour than loud cries. She’d crawled on top of me, fitting the length of my cock between her legs, rocking herself over me. It wasn’t fucking, but it was close, and it was beautiful. And all the more for her instigation. And we both came in the end.
‘I think you’ll find,’ she replies quietly, ‘despite your confusing analogy, the correct title is Pygmalion.’
‘Whatever. You’ll always be more than a fair lady to me.’
The meeting starts shortly after. It goes on. And it goes on. And on. And I’m mostly zoned out as Haydn directs a little vitriol in the wrong direction.
‘ ... but the figures don’t make sense,’ he says, pointing a pencil at Heather. ‘You’re off your game. Distracted. You come in late and you’re clearly not yourself.’
‘We have flexible working hours, Haydn. I’d like you to remember that,’ Heather replies without bite. ‘I’d also like to point out you’re quite welcome to check in with HR if you have any further complaints. Yes, I might be late some days, but most days I leave late, and I work from home.’
She mainly works from my home these days. For dog parenting reasons. It’s just easier, I suppose.
‘Also, you took some documents out of the safe,’ he says, continuing in that supercilious tone of his. ‘Items that are kept under lock and key because they aren’t assets of E11even. They’re just on loan.’
‘What?’ Heather stiffens, her back ramrod straight, and while my instinct is to want to calm her, to protect her, she wouldn’t appreciate my interference right now.
‘The safe. You went in it and you didn’t lock the documents away afterwards.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Haydn. I have nothing to do with the safe.’
‘Hmm.’ He folds his arms across his chest, his lips pursed like a middle-aged shopkeeper. ‘That sounds like something someone would say to keep from being reprimanded.’
‘Oh, yes. That sounds sane. Just like how you seem to think I can magically conjure up the code to the safe. Poof! Out of thin air. But surely, I’d have to grow a pair of testicles to do that? You know, to perform miracles.’
‘Well. That is. I never—’
As Haydn blusters and people snigger, the door to the meeting room opens, the Fat Controller coming strolling in, like Churchill to Battle of Britain bunker meeting.
‘Good morning,’ he announces, coming to stand behind where Heather and I are sitting. ‘Forgive me for intruding, this is just a flying visit, troops. I have an announcement to make. As I’m sure you’re all aware, Archer Powell has headed up our business to business team for the last few months. I’d like to take a moment to commend him on the outstanding job he’s doing. He’s brought a number of substantial contracts from Europe in particular. It’s with this in mind that I’d like to announce, effective immediately, that Archer will be heading up our association with theNaar VorenGroup.’
This is news to me. Not the superstar stuff, but the collaboration. It probably just means more travelling, but it’s another feather in my cap and a step closer to that promised promotion. I’ve sort of zoned out when I realise he’s still talking.
‘In fact,Naar Vorenwas so impressed with his dedication, that a senior associate from their corporate team has flown from Amsterdam to liaise with him personally. I’d like to introduce to you all Fenna Jansen who will be with us all week.’
He steps back as he introduces this Fenna, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
Older, not younger than me.
Attractive, not pretty like the woman sitting next to me.
Sophisticated, not brash.
Sultry, not sweet.
Tall and not short.
Dark hair. No presence of strawberry.
And judging by her face, still interested in me.
Whatever else is said, I don’t hear a word of it. I feel like I’m stuck in some bad dream. Surely the fact that I turned her down in the hotel doesn’t mean she’s chasing me. Does it?
