“Well?” he prompted, hand held out. “Is it ready?”
It took everything I had to answer as a mature professional. “Nuh-uh.”
“I said I needed it first thing. Didn’t you understand me?”
I’m prone to flippancy when I’m angry. “Maybe you should change the channel.”
His jaw clenched. “The channel?”
“Yeah, from channel A for arrogance, to... I don’t know, try R for respect.
“Respect has to be earned. I would say you’ve done the opposite, wouldn’t you?”
If looks were poison I’d be writhing on the floor, frothing at the mouth. As it was I flinched as he walked to the door, my anger crushed under the burden of guilt.
“I wish we’d never made love,” I murmured, so quietly I didn’t think he’d hear.
James paused and turned around. “We didn’t make love,” he said flatly. “We fucked. All night long, if I remember. You got my rocks off and I rammed into your cunt so hard you spurted all over my cock. Is that crude enough for you?”
It was game over, final score to James.
A few days later I was sitting at my desk tracking James through his morning ritual. Firm, sensual lips mouth a curt “good morning”; pause behind desk and long stare at City of London; finger tap on briefcase. It was time to look away before he switched his gaze.
See Paisley work. Work Paisley, work.
I fidgeted, wondering if James would ever stop studying me like one of his tax conundrums, with that determined problem-solving look on his face. A prickle of unease tingled down my spine. Greg’s eyes were glued to me also, flashing with a sort of knowing enjoyment that made me feel nauseous.#p#分页标题#e#
Well, what did I expect? If Greg hadn’t known about my past with James at the interview it was obvious he’d watched “TB” along with the rest of the firm and found it more than amusing. As soon as James left for his first meeting Greg sat back with his coffee mug, staring at me so obviously I stopped typing.
“Working with James can be very demanding,” he said conspiratorially. “He’s a difficult man, isn’t he?”
Uh-oh, it was Office Politics and Backstabbing week. I shrugged and continued working on my contract. “More than some, less than others.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret, Betsy—’Trash at the Bash’ is a personal favourite of mine. When I recognised you at the interview I ripped up the other candidates’ CVs and lobbied hard for you to get the job.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, document forgotten.
He chewed on his pastry, swallowed and had a sip of coffee, watching me with a calculating gleam in his eyes.
“Because you’ll be very useful to me, Ms Benítez.”
I stifled a sigh. I was getting really tired of hearing my name sneered out like that. “What do you mean?”
Greg laughed. “Don’t look so worried. A few of us have a bet running on how long James will keep his cool while you’re around. He’s an arrogant prick who needs taking down. You of all people would agree with me on that one. I gather he’s got custody of your kid and he won’t play ball, regardless of how you brown-nose him.”
I did not brown-nose James, did I?
No way, my mind said hotly. Well...not much anyway.
Greg leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“Is there anything you left out at James’s wedding, any more dirt you’d like to serve up for us? You could make a ‘Trash at the Bash’ sequel at Lemane’s birthday party.”
Well, what did I expect? I had done the crap, so I had to take the rap. In this case, office titters and an envious colleague who wanted a repeat.
“No can do.”
Greg tapped his fingers on the desk. “Lemane always says a few words about those ‘special’ employees whose work has stuffed his pockets. James will be one of them, as usual. They’re sure to invite him to be a partner this year and we’ll be expected to say how wonderful he is at the party. It’s the perfect moment to burst his bubble.”
I stared at him, aghast. Office intrigue Flintfire style was like sitting at table 23 all over again, only I couldn’t sit back and enjoy it. Why, why, why had I decided not to read people at work? I should have paid attention to boss number two but James had eaten up my observational skills and I was left to gape at Greg like a fish hooked with a worm—an extra slimy one at that.
I wanted to tell Greg where he could stick his pettiness but I’ve learned a few things in the past seven years. One of them is to never deliberately antagonise the office psycho.