‘I can take the truth! So you should be able to as well. The truth is it was inappropriate for you to kiss me. You made,’ a move on me first, is the intended sentence but his head jerks back.
‘That’s enough.’ His eyes are dark, flat like a shark’s, generous lips compressed.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. The anger and disappointment, the raw contempt making me shudder. Shit.
He picks up the laptop. ‘I suggest you think carefully before you finish your accusation, if you’re building up to a sexual harassment claim. I shouldn’t have kissed you, you’re right. I wish I hadn’t. But let’s not lie. The heat was mutual. And I won’t let anyone say I’d make any woman do anything she wouldn’t want to. Especially a member of staff.’
Dismay hits. It’s the worst thing he could think. Cringing, ‘I don’t mean that, I’d never—’
‘Save it,’ he interrupts, ‘I’m not interested.’
God, what a mess. He actually thinks I’m trying to build a case when I’m trying to do the opposite. As he sails to the door, I rush after him. ‘No. No way. You’re not just going to walk out. I did not accuse you of sexual harassment and I wasn’t about to. Okay?’ I grab his arm. ‘Alex. Alex! Look at me!’
He glances over his shoulder, hand on the door handle.
‘I want to be completely clear. It was mutual. But I was going to say you made a move on me first. Not that you made me do something I didn’t want to. I just can’t get involved, all right? I can’t.’ I lower my voice, ‘It’s not about you.’
‘It’s not you, it’s me?’ he says sarcastically. ‘How original.’
‘I know it’s a cliché, but yes. Believe it. You said yourself I’m honest with you, tell you what I think, so why I would I lie about this?’
He stares at my face, eyes softening. Blows out a hard, fast breath. ‘Okay, I’m sorry I jumped on you about it. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have ignored my own policy. Truce. Let’s forget it ever happened. I will.’ He yanks open the door, gives me a shadow of a smile. ‘I’ll see you at the party.’
After he leaves, I stand in the middle of the room, recalling his knowing touch, his incredible kissing, his hot, hard body. But it’s his words that keep boomeranging back on me the most. I wish I hadn’t kissed you.
I should be relieved.
Instead I feel lost, when I have absolutely no right to.
‘You kissed him?’ Jess shrieks down the phone. ‘And it was amazing?’
Sometimes a girl needs her best friend, even if the bill is going to be astronomical and you might have to sell possessions to pay for it. Oh, God. This is going to give her so much ammunition. ‘He kissed me first, but yes, amazing, like you wouldn’t believe.’ I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. Ironic, given Alex wants to forget all about it. But I’ve never felt that intense rolling need and heat in the pit of my stomach before, which even now won’t go away. A need that’s making me twitchy and restless. ‘But I had to stop,’ I sigh. ‘It’s just too complicated. I mean, what is it with me and this guy? It wasn’t bad enough he overheard me on the phone to you yesterday? That I’m deceiving him? I’m a disaster zone. What’s wrong with me?’
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I grab hold of the floor-length hem of my electric-blue dress to make sure it doesn’t get caught in my strappy black stilettos.
‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ she chuckles. ‘This is an area you’re understandably sensitive about. Before you say it, I know he doesn’t know that yet, but he will, and he’ll get it, I’m sure. And the other thing, well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Like I said last night, you fancy him. But not just that.’
‘Oh?’
‘You like him,’ she says in a sing-song voice. ‘It’s the fireworks they talk about in films and books. Chemistry.’ The last remark holds the shadow of regret, but neither of us says anything. We both know she’s thinking about Tom. ‘Think about your reaction,’ she picks up the thread. ‘How often do you get so mega clumsy and mess up so much around a guy? How often do you go against your sensible side and kiss someone you hardly know? Never.’
I can’t argue. She’s right.
‘Uh-huh,’ I answer miserably. ‘So what do I do? And why aren’t you using the opportunity to lecture me about it after you told me not to do this?’
‘It’s a bit late for that now, and as you pointed out yesterday, I love you.’ Her tone becomes brisk. ‘Now, get some perspective. Take a step back and think it through. You can either ignore the chemistry, or do something about it.’
‘I guess so.’
‘You just have to be prepared to accept the consequences of whichever one you go with,’ she finishes.
‘All right, I get it! I’m not one of your key-stage-three kids. Honestly, why I put up with you.’ We both know my grumbling is good-natured. Her directness always comes from a kind place and I value it. It’s funny Alex thinks I’m opinionated. If he met Jess, he’d think me practically mute in comparison. Argh, why does it always go back to him? I shake my head, smooth my hand over the bed covers, spreading out the wrinkles.
‘Well?’ she demands.
‘Don’t worry, oh wise one. I will humbly follow in your enlightened footsteps.’
‘Very funny. So now I’ve shared my wisdom what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to do what he wants – forget about it. Then try and lay my hands on a padlocked chastity belt.’
‘Well, good luck with that,’ Jess laughs. ‘Whilst you wrestle with your libido I’ll be on another date with Jake, and I’m thinking it’s going to be a late night.’
I smile. Jess has always been able to pull me from the blackest of moods, even when we were teenagers and mood swings were a daily battle. ‘Okay, I’ll let you go then. See you Monday evening?’
‘Maybe, maybe not. It depends. I might see Jake on Monday night. If he manages to keep me entertained sufficiently for the next thirty-six hours.’
I shake my head. ‘Just do me a favour, text me on Monday so I know what your plans are, that you’re safe?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
I huff. ‘Just promise you’ll take care of yourself.’
‘I will.’
Ten minutes later I stride into the lobby, searching for Alex. I’m running a little behind, on the phone with Jess longer than planned. I can’t see him, and wait around for a while before going to the reception desk and asking if he’s left a message for me.
‘There was a gentleman here a while ago, Señorita,’ the moustached man says in a heavy Spanish accent, straightening a pile of papers on the desk, ‘but he left. Maybe he has gone to the function room in the basement?’
‘Thank you. If he comes looking for me can you tell him where I’ve gone please?’ The basement? Sounds interesting.
‘Of course.’ He nods.
‘Thanks.’
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