‘But I see it for what it is now. You’re just doing what you can to hide your terrible addiction to porn. And on company time, too.’ Hetsks, a very unconvincing reprove of teeth and tongue. ‘And here I thought you were just treating us mean to keep us keen.’
‘Us? You know what?’ I add quickly, holding up a forestalling hand. ‘Never mind. You’re ridiculous.’ And teasing me, which is nothing but unkind.
‘Andyouare a dark horse,’ he accuses, his smile a wicked gleam of pearly white teeth. He slides his hands into his pockets before beginning to walk backwards, pausing at the door.
‘Haven’t you got something better to do?’ I retort, daring to open my laptop now that he’s almost out of the room. Just in case, I minimise the webpage.
Spoiler: it’s not porn.
‘There’s always something better to do than work, Heather.’
‘Even if it’s what we get paid for,’ I mutter, beginning to hammer the keys as I pretend to bang out an email. Since when does Archer Powell come into my office to banter? Since he needs something from me, is the obvious answer, even if part of me wants to believe something else.
‘Sometimes there’s even someonebetter to do.’ Did he just imply that he . . .? That I...? ‘Don’t forget to think of me when you’re licking the pearl off your cupcake.’
I gasp, but whether from the audaciousness of the man or the effect of his words, I’m not sure. I’ve never had anyone make me feel this . . . flustered.Half aroused. I open my mouth to tell him none of that, but as I look up, he’s already sauntering his way across the main office floor. The rear view is almost as gorgeous. Also on the plus side, it doesn’t annoy me nearly half as much.
As my gaze moves on, I’m unlucky enough to catch the eye of Allison from the executive floor who, for some reason, is wearing the most calculating smile.
Either that or she’s suffering some kind of intestinal distress.
With a sigh, I maximise my webpage and take another look at the face that, just ten minutes ago, I’d thought as least as handsome as Archer Powell. It’s true he doesn’t have freckles, and his mouth isn’t quite so pouty, but he definitely has an air about him. The image in front of me is like a cut price version, not that a six-hour booking with a male escort will be any kind of cheap. Because yes, I’ve decided to book a date for next week even though just thinking that thought makes me feel a little bit sick. Hopefully, I can manage to contain my weirdness for a day, though I’ll probably need to sell a kidney to afford to go to this wedding, but needs must because Haydn isnotgetting the better of me.
But then, it’s with a jolt that I realise that of all the men on the website, the Icelandic-looking blondes and the Mediterranean hunks, I’m about to book a date with man who looks most like Archer Powell. A man who invaded my dreams last night. That has to be a coincidence, doesn’t it?
* * *
‘You’re a dark horse.’
While I’d much prefer to be described as a unicorn, I find I’m accused of being this mythical creature for the second time today, though this time I’m in the kitchen, and this time, the voice is one that doesn’t so much ruffle my feathers as it does cause my spine to stiffen.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Without looking up, I continue swirling the teabag around my cup.
‘You and Archie Powell.’ Allison drops her Tupperware container to the table crowded with old office chairs before making her way to the sink and leaning against it with her arms folded. Allison isn’t on my list of favourite people at E11even. In fact, she’s on the other list, the one with Haydn.A list of just two names.Hair dyed the colour of ash and the personality of a Disney witch, Allison is a fan of the short skirts and French-manicured talons the length of which must turn a visit to the bathroom into a game of Russian roulette, is so abrasive and sharp she isn’t anyone at E11even’s favourite workmate. But she’s also the person responsible for having expense remittance signed off unfortunately. And with great power comes great suck-up benefits, which is probably how she seems to know everything that goes on inside these glass walls.
Although, Em did suggest she might have a crystal ball.
No sign of flying monkeys, though.
Hey, Allison, I know something that you can’t possibly know.
Unless Archer and Clara have been at it in the bathroom, that is.
Ugh. Pass the mind bleach, would you?
‘Archie? Oh,ArcherPowell. What about him?’ I add a splash of milk to my mug, my response indifferent as I watch the liquid turn the colour of red brick.
‘You don’t have to pretend. Not after the whole office saw you making googly eyes at him this morning.’
Were my eyes googly? They were definitely a bit roll-y, mostly in response to the man’s ego. I might’ve been goggle eyed at one or two points, but not so much googly.
‘And the cupcake from that posh little bakery on Carey Street? What was that all about?’
I shrug, a sort of rueful action, as I stir in half a teaspoon of sugar. ‘Between you and me, I think he might not be very bright.’
‘He’s like the smartest person in his department.’ The skin around her eyes tightens along with her arms under her bust. ‘He got a first from Oxford—something to do with pure maths and statistics. And I know for a fact he’s being groomed for the executive floor.’
I bite back a smile at her mention of those hallowed halls.
