I’ve heard that one before.’
‘Sorry. So was it? Down to kissing?’
It’s like he’s completely forgotten himself. That this is just work. Worryingly, I like it.
‘No comment,’ I reply cheerfully.
‘Fair enough.’ He drops the swan and traces a finger on the tablecloth. I wish for a flashing moment it’s my skin. ‘Did you know we send our managers out to Africa for charity projects?’
‘Yes, I—’ almost applied. I manage to stop in time. Too close. ‘I saw it on the internet.’
He frowns. ‘You said earlier you hadn’t managed to research the company.’
Damn, caught out. ‘That’s right,’ I think fast, ‘but I’m talking about when I was looking into it at college, surfing the net. I remember seeing something about Demetrio doing it as part of a corporate programme.’
‘Really? I can’t remember when we started it.’
‘Well I’m twenty-seven, so this was about nine years ago. ’
‘That makes sense. I went out there for the pilot scheme around that time, whilst my father was still in charge.’ Suspicion slides from his face and I let out a breath.
How funny. Would we have met under different circumstances if I hadn’t become ill? Mind you, Africa is a huge country and what would be the chances of us volunteering in the same village? I don’t know why I’m even thinking it. We occupy different worlds. And there’s the giant issue of the reason I’m here, along with his glaring mistrust of women.
He isn’t for me.
Alex clears his throat. ‘Charley?’
‘Yes, Alex?’
‘You went somewhere else.’
‘Sorry.’ Time for bed. Standing, I grab my bag from under the table and shove my pad and pen inside it. ‘It’s late. We should call it a night. Everyone else has.’
Alex blinks and unfolds himself from the chair, glancing around the restaurant. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Looking puzzled, he pushes his shirtsleeve back to check his watch. ‘It’s almost eleven!’
‘Still an hour away from turning into a pumpkin, though?’ I tease.
‘Something like that.’ He shrugs back into his suit jacket, rubs a hand over his emerging stubble. The rasping sound makes my pulse kick and my hands tighten around my handbag.
We meander back to reception and the silence is companionable enough as we wait for the lift, but there’s a tension about him; in the line between his eyebrows, the way his hands are shoved in his pockets. I wonder what he’s thinking.
Once in the plush interior of the lift, I lean against the wall. ‘Thanks Alex, it’s been a nice evening. I know I upset you earlier, but I’m looking forward to working with you this weekend.’
Shifting away, ‘Yes,’ he says in a clipped voice, staring at the lift doors, ‘I think we covered all we needed to.’
Huh. What did I say? I don’t understand the super-formal censorious tone after we’ve got on so well. I wish he’d stop running hot and cold. It’s unnerving. He’s like two different people: one the stern CEO and one the normal, down-to-earth guy. Trouble is, I never know which he’s going to be.
I dart out into the corridor as we arrive at our floor, pawing through my bag for the key card. ‘What time do you want me?’ I ask over my shoulder.
‘Pardon?’
My cheeks burn. Did he think I was making him an offer? ‘In the morning, what time do you want to make a start?’
‘Seven please. Let’s meet at main reception.’
‘No problem.’ Running the card over the reader, I shove the door open. Stepping into my bedroom, I turn and look at him as I clutch the door handle. ‘Night.’
‘Yes, goodnight.’ His reply is muted by the door as I swing it shut, but his magnetic blue gaze is the last thing I see.
Chucking my stuff onto the dresser beside the wide bed, I start stripping off with a suspicion it’s going to be a long night.
I’m not wrong. After texting Jess to explain why I cut short our call earlier and say I’m off to bed, she responds with a simple message.
Oh dear! Okay Cee, talk in the morning x
Trying to settle, I flick through the channels before turning off the TV, pick up a fashion magazine but hurl it on the floor within minutes, grab my e-reader and shut it down after a few pages. Deciding to attempt sleep because I need to be at least semi-human tomorrow, I’m frustrated by twisting restlessly into the early hours, sheets wrapping themselves around my sweaty body. I switch on the air-con, but get too cold, so I switch it back off. Nothing feels right. At one point I’m so irritated I shout a string of swear words into the dark.
It’s no good. My physical state’s not the problem. Working with Alex is bringing up all sorts of conflicting feelings. I find him so compelling but who’s the only one left who can help me, meaning he’s off limits.
Like oil bubbling from an underground well, the memory of my last horrible night at the casino, the reason for my current situation, rises to the surface.
Then
Slotting confidential papers into the cabinet, I tilt my head from side to side to get rid of the kinks in my neck. Time for home and a hot bath. Tony should be filing this stuff away, but I don’t trust him. The thought’s no sooner there than he swaggers into the room, shutting the door behind him decisively.
‘Not gone yet? You’re free to call it a day, Tony.’ Go away.
He doesn’t answer, but is suddenly right behind me, trapping me against the drawer. Not particularly tall, he is nonetheless stocky, built like a real British rugby player, and it makes me feel crowded. Feeling the heat of his body against my back, a needle of fear pierces me. We’re alone in here with the door shut. I rapidly calculate how many members of staff are out on the casino floor. Not many, it’s a Tuesday, one of our quieter nights. It’s unlikely anyone would come up here at gone eight.
‘You’re working late,’ he says in my ear. ‘Why can’t I?’
‘I’m expected to cover some of the late shifts. You aren’t,’ I answer stiffly. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ Orders aren’t my usual management style, but my patience is razor-thin. When he doesn’t move I grind my teeth. ‘Is there something in particular you want?’ Slamming the drawer shut with a metallic bang, I turn to elbow past him.
Before I know what’s happening, he grabs my ponytail and throws me roughly against the cabinet. ‘Hey!’ I squawk. He’s too close for me to plant a knee between his legs.
‘You know there’s something I want,’ he breathes, making horror jump in my chest, ‘but you’re so stubborn! Little Miss Boss in her tight suits and high heels, taunting me with her sexy body every day.’
A hot hand runs over my left hip and squeezes hard. I wince and try to back away as the hand continues a path upwards. In that moment, outraged and scared after weeks of uncertainty, I come alive. This can’t be happening. No way. I won’t let it. Scorching anger rockets. Bringing both arms up in the few inches between our bodies I thrust them apart and break free. ‘Get off me! Now!’
Grappling with me, Tony steps back, accidentally tearing my silk t-shirt in the process. There’s a loud rip, but I don’t care. Luckily he gives me just enough room for escape.