‘Ah, girl. Go easy on him.’ John soothes lightly.
‘Do you want to live with him and his challenging ways?’ I ask exasperated.
‘So, you’ve moved in then?’ His eyebrows appear over his shades as he turns his face to me. I hadn’t realised what I just said. I hope John isn’t jumping to the same conclusion as Sarah did; that I’m after his money.
I suddenly have the urgent need to defend myself. ‘He asked me and pretty much bullied a yes out of me,’ I won’t tell John how, ‘but I’m not so sure. It’s a bit soon. That’s what that little spat was about. He doesn’t like being told no.’ I wave my phone at John.
I don’t give a fudge about his money!
The corners of John’s lips turn down and he starts nodding his head thoughtfully. ‘He certainly has a way with you.’
I scoff and do my own little thoughtful head shake. He certainly does have a way with me. It’s frightening. ‘How long have you known him?’ I ask. I may as well get my fill while I can. He might shut up and not start talking again.
‘Too long.’ He laughs, and it’s a deep, rumbling belly sound that has him developing a few more chins as his neck retracts. I wonder how old he is. It’s like the bloody mystery of ages. He’s got to be late forties.
‘I bet you see some sights at The Manor.’ I muse. John’s role is all the more clearer, now I know the place isn’t a hotel or the mafia’s HQ. I wouldn’t want to be messing with the mountain of a man sat next to me, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. He even makes that look menacing.
‘It’s all in my job description.’ he says casually.
Ah, which reminds me. ‘Why were the police there?’ I ask.
John turns an almost threatening face onto me, and I wither slightly. ‘Just some idiot playing games. No need for you to worry, girl.’ He turns his attention back to the road.
I wasn’t particularly worried, but I am now. John has just spun off the exact same minimal explanation that Jesse did, and the fact that he has told me not to worry is even more worrying. What’s going on?
Information. I need some damn information.
I’m dropped off at my office, and John nods his farewell.
‘Morning, Ava!’ Sally says cheerfully.
Oh yes. I forgot our Sal has transformed. She has on the same top as yesterday but in a different colour. Today’s top is red. I like sparkling Sally. I hope she doesn’t get crapped all over. ‘Hi Sal, Are you okay?’
‘Yes, thank you for asking, I’m very good. Can I get you a coffee?’
‘Please.’
‘Coming up!’ She flashes me a lovely smile and skips to the kitchen. I notice she has nail colour on. This is new too, and it’s not beige or clear. It’s fire cracker red! This must be in preparation for her date.
I load my computer up, crack on with some estimates and prepare a heap of invoice requests for Sally. I open my email and see my inbox flooded with new emails, mostly junk, so I start to plough through them.
At ten thirty, I hear the office door open. When I look up, I’m not at all surprised to see a fan of calla lilies spread across the arm of Lusso girl. I knew he wouldn’t take any notice of my request. She rolls her eyes, and I give her an apologetic shrug. After exchanging flowers and signatures, I retrieve the card.
Looking forward to your retribution fuck?
Your God.
X
I smile and send him a text. I promised myself no contact after he distracted me this morning, but that plan has already been tossed out the window, what with Molly mops and Big John. And anyway, I really am looking forward to my retribution fuck.
Yes I am and yes u are. Your Ax
I knuckle down. With the office empty except for Sal, I have the perfect opportunity to get lots done. I run across the road at lunchtime to grab a bagel and eat it at my desk. My phone declares a text when I land back in my chair.
I particularly like your sign off. Don’t forget it. You always will be. See you at home about 7…ish Jx
I’m well and truly on Central Jesse Cloud Nine. I decide to give Kate a call while I’m taking a few minutes out for lunch.
‘Well, hello!’ she sings down the phone in greeting.
What is she so happy about? Oh God. She’s not been to The Manor again, has she? I won’t ask. I really don’t want to know. ‘Hey, you okay?’
‘It’s all good in the hood! How’s my favourite boyfriend to a friend?’ She laughs.
‘He’s fine.’ I answer dryly. She only loves him so much because he bought her Margo Junior.
‘Listen, I’m on my way to Brighton to drop a cake off in Margo Junior. Do you want to do lunch on Thursday? I’m a bit hectic tomorrow. I’ve got stacks to catch up on.’
‘Being distracted, are we?’
‘Fun!’ she snaps. ‘Do you want to do lunch or not?’
‘All right!’ I blurt. Her oversensitivity on this matter is making me super suspicious. ‘Thursday, one o’clock at Baroque.’ I confirm.
‘Perfect!’ She hangs up.
Blimey, I think I just hit a nerve. Fun my arse! She’s skirting around this and brushing it off far too hastily. I want to know what’s going on, but I’m making it a point not to ask in future. What’s she up to?
I hear the door of the office open and look up to see Tom arriving. ‘Tom, we need to have a word about your attire!’
He looks down at his emerald green dress shirt with bright pink tie. Colour clash in Tom’s world is highly offensive. ‘Fabulous, isn’t it?’ He strokes his tie.
No, it’s not. It’s highly unpleasant, in fact. I know that if I was looking for an interior designer and Tom turned up on my doorstep, I would shut the door in his face. ‘Where’s Victoria?’ I ask.
‘Appointment in Kensington.’ He throws his man-bag on his desk and takes his glasses off to clean them on the tail of his shirt.
‘Did you find out what happened?’ I press.
‘No!’ He slumps into his chair. ‘She moped and sulked all day.’ He leans forward and scans the office. ‘Hey, what do you make of our Sal?’
Oh, he’s noticed. It’s hard not to. ‘She had a date.’ I whisper loudly.
He puts his glasses back on in a dramatic gesture that suggests he needs to see my face given the news. It’s ridiculous. They’re a fashion statement and Tom’s attempt to appear professional. Professional? He should lose the shirt and tie combo. It’s making me squint.
‘No!’ he gasps.
‘Yes! And a second date tonight.’ I nod.
His eyes bulge again. ‘Can you imagine how boring he is?’
I recoil, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for engaging him in such a conversation. ‘Don’t be a bitch, Tom.’ I scorn.
Sally walks through the office, stopping our gossip dead in its tracks. Tom raises his eyebrows and grins as he follows her path to the photocopier. If I was close enough, I would kick him.
He turns back to me, catching my disapproving expression and holds his hands up. ‘What?’ he mouths.
I shake my head and return to my computer, but my peace is short lived.
‘So,’ Tom calls from his desk. ‘Victoria tells me you’ve moved in with Mr Ward.’
I look up from my screen in shock and see him casually flicking through a catalogue. How does she know? Of course…Drew. He and Victoria were together on Friday night, but what has happened since then to put her in such a foul mood? I don’t want to engage in this conversation. Tom thrives on drama, and my life is really quite a drama at the moment.
‘I’ve not moved in with him, and I need you to be quiet, Tom.’ I carry on deleting junk emails. He doesn’t take the hint.
‘Fancy that, living in the ten million quid penthouse that you designed.’ he muses thoughtfully, still flicking pages.
‘Shut up, Tom.’ I glare at him when he lifts his eyes from the catalogue he’s not even reading. He takes the hint this time, carrying on about his business.
I don’t know how I’m going to get around this with Patrick. It doesn’t look very good, me dating a client, and all I need is Tom blabbering off in the office for all to hear.
I return my focus to my computer and finish emptying my inbox of junk emails before preparing a payment schedule for Miss Quinn along with some brief ideas.
As five o’clock hits, I sit tapping my pen on my desk, deep in thought, and I have a bloody fantastic thought.
Oh my God I’m amazing! I jump up from my desk and quickly clear it of drawings and files. I grab my bag and flowers and head for the office door. ‘I’m done, see you tomorrow, guys.’ I call, as I all but sprint out of the office. I have half an hour. I can make it.
I head for the tube and to my intended destination.
I run from the tube to Lusso. I need to be showered and ready before Jesse gets home. I bypass any conversation with Clive and jump in the elevator, puffing and panting from my exertion. My poor body has really taken a hammering today.
I fly into the bedroom and throw my flowers and bag on the chest before unpacking all of my purchases, shoving them in the wooden trunk and quickly jumping in the shower, eager to ready myself for the evening ahead. I’m careful not to wet my hair as I frantically wash the day away and not so frantically shave, before removing myself from the enclosure and reaching up to grab a towel.