Bait(34)

My belly flutters and my clit sparks, senses on high alert as I position myself underneath it.

Here. He was here. Right here.

I scan the surrounding buildings in the daylight.

A refrigeration company, a furniture importer, an IT support company.

I keep going.

The headquarters of a local housing association, a removal firm.

No and no.

And then I see a dip in the tarmac. A dip and then a kerb.

I remember tripping, correcting myself on shaky legs… and then him. At my back.

I keep walking until the next business comes into view. Scott Brothers Logistics. It’s big. Set back from the road.

Trucks.

The tarmac turns to gravel on the driveway, and I remember the crunch under his feet.

I feel like an idiot as I head closer, my cheeks burning when I notice they’re open for trading on a Saturday morning.

Fuck, I feel like a fucking crazy.

And then I see the shutter doors. My whole body trembles.

I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot, which is ridiculous. Totally ridiculous.

I’m staring up at them when a voice calls out.

I start so hard I gasp, and I’m staring dumb with wide eyes at the man who comes over.

Hoping… praying…

But it’s not him. Of course it’s not.

This man is too short. His hair is cropped all over. He’s carrying a clipboard and there are no tattoos to be seen.

“Can I help?” he asks, and he’s so friendly. So nice.

“Sorry?” I ask, as though I haven’t heard his question.

“You looking for something?” he asks. “Need a pallet moving?”

I smile at the absurdity, then shake my head. “No,” I say. “Sorry, I just…” I decide half-honesty is the best policy. “I was clubbing last weekend, I lost my shoe. Shoes.”

“Like Cinderella,” he laughs. “Sorry, haven’t seen any glass slippers lying around.” He looks down at my feet. “Must’ve been quite some walk home.”

“It was.” I find I’m laughing back. “Sorry, this is… crazy.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he says. “You got a phone number?”

I’m too far embedded in the pretence to back out now. “Sure,” I say, and reach in my handbag for a pen, but he beats me to it. He hands me his clipboard and plucks a pen from behind his ear with a flourish.

I scrawl my mobile number with Abigail over the top. “They’re black. High. Satin.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know if anything turns up,” he says.

I feel like such a fool as I walk away. I’m laughing at my own stupidity as I abandon this crazy errand and opt to head back to the car. Yet, I’m already considering using the cock picture after all before I drive off anywhere.

Needs must.

And I definitely have needs.





Phoenix



Jimmy has a smile on his face when he brings the forklift truck back inside. He climbs down and flashes his clipboard to a couple of the other guys. They laugh.

I don’t give a shit what they’re joking about, just keep on checking generator stock with my head down.

He seeks me out anyway.

“Ain’t seen a glass slipper, have you, boss?” he asks.

“A what?”

He holds up his paperwork. My heart fucking thumps as I see Abigail scrawled on the top. A mobile number.

It can’t be.

“Some girl lost her shoes here. Was looking for them outside. Pretty thing she was. Wouldn’t mind finding them just so I can give her a call.”

My demons go fucking wild, rattling their fucking cages. I’m already staring beyond him to the open door as he tells me these glass slippers are high and black.

“Satin, she said.”

“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, and I’m off in a beat.

She’s already out of view when I reach the street. No sign of her in either direction.

I pull my keys from my pocket and jump into my truck, knowing full well she can’t have gone far.

I reach her at the end of the estate, just as the street heads down toward the station. I know she must be parked up in the same place.

She looks just as stunning as I remember, wearing a simple red summer dress with her black hair shining in the sun. She’s wearing sandals with open toes. Barely any makeup.

Her walk is hurried but easy. Her head is high.

And I want her.

Oh fuck, how I want her.

My resolve shrivels to nothing. I need this too much to turn back.

I locate her car in the car park long before she arrives – the same red Mini Cooper I watched her get out of last weekend. I pull up into the nearest space for a clear vantage point, with no fucking idea what I’m going to do when she gets here.

Her shoes are still in my glove compartment. I consider handing them over, just like that. Asking her out for a coffee. A walk.