“Zach isn’t ‘other guys’. And he has a girlfriend, something you both seem to forget whenever it’s convenient.”
I take a breath, gathering myself, putting the walls back up. I know Scott is pushing me, trying to get a reaction. This isn’t how he usually acts. And I know why, of course I do. I want Zara. I have done for a while. The thought of Zach turning his legendary charm on her makes me sick. But I don’t want to look too closely at the reasons why.
I turn my board, lying down to catch another wave. “Ifyou idiots don’t have anything better to talk about, I’m out of here.”
Before they can say anything else, I’m gone.
Zara
It’s quiet in the office without Myles. He’s been away before, but for some reason I’m missing his presence more than usual. I take another sip of coffee and return to the letter I’m drafting. Then my fantasy from the other night rolls over me, heat coming to my cheeks.
Oh my God. I glance towards his closed office door, as though he might be in there and somehow able to read my thoughts. I’d die if he, or anyone ever found out. I can barely even admit to myself that I had a sex fantasy about my boss. It was just some sort of weird aberration, too much work on my mind or something. I wrench my thoughts back to Dean, to the flicker of joy in my stomach whenever I think about seeing him next week. I wonder how he’ll do it. Whether he’ll take me out to a restaurant, or maybe up to Hampstead Heath, or even the London Eye. I don’t care; wherever he proposes will be perfect.
I wish Mum was here, so I could talk to her about it. I’ve already told Eloise, and I know she’s happy for me, even if there was a hint of hesitation in her voice. I get it. Dean has been away for longer than I spent with him. But I just know we’re meant to be together.
“I know he’s not here!”
I jump, shaken from my reverie. Then I hear Alice from reception.
“If you leave it with me, I can make sure he gets it.”
Oh no.
“I’m just dropping something off, that’s all. Don’t you worry.”
I stand up, pushing my chair out. I need to deal with this. But before I can get out from behind my desk, Katya appears. She’s holding a gift bag and a large envelope.
I brace myself, expecting her to shove them at me and demand I send them overnight to Uzbekistan or something ridiculous. But she smiles at me, then puts the gift bag on my desk. I’m so surprised I almost fall over.
“Zara.” She trails out the last syllable, still smiling. It’s slightly terrifying. “Just the person I want to see.”
“You want to see… me?” Probably wants me to fly her to Cornwall or something.
“Yes.” Katya perches on the edge of my desk, her long perfect legs, encased in skintight leather and spike heels, crossed. Her cashmere sweater slips from one creamy shoulder as she pouts at me and tosses her hair. “I want to apologise.”
My mouth opens and shuts, but nothing comes out.
“Myles says,” she traces circles on the desk with one long finger, “he says I need to be nicer to you. And I know I can be… passionate about things at times.”
Yeah, things like shoes and dry cleaning. I hold my tongue, though.
“It’s just, I think if I’m going to be around for a while,” she shrugs, “I want you to know that I appreciate you, and all that you do for him.”
Around for a while? I swallow. Great. That’s so great for Myles. I rub at my chest. “Well, thanks.” My voice is strangled.
“No, thank you.” She sounds serious but I’m still tense, as though she’s a shark who might turn and bite at any moment. “I don’t mean to be so difficult. Anyway, this is for you.”
“For me?”
She pushes the gift bag towards me. It’s gold and spangly, fastened with a floppy silk ribbon. Katya nods towards it. Oh. It seems she wants me to open it now.
I pull at the ribbon, then reach inside the bag. Inside is an orange box, embossed with the Louis Vuitton logo. Holy shit. Maybe it’s just an empty box. But Katya nods at me, smiling what looks like an actual genuine smile. She really is stunning. It’s ridiculous.
I open the box to reveal a wallet, nestled in a matching dust bag. I look at it, then at her. “This is for me?”
“Like I say, just as a thank you.” Her smile fades, slightly. “I just… It seems important to Myles that you’re happy, so I want you to be happy.”
“It does?” He’s been a bit nicer lately, but I can’t shake the feeling that something about me annoys him intensely. I know he told Katya not to give me things to do, but I doubt very much that my happiness came up in conversation between them. “I mean, thank you. This is too much, though. Honestly. You didn’t have to do this.”
