The Debt & the Doormat(17)

‘Now, out of my way. I need a shower,’ I say icily, all politeness gone.

‘Yeah, that's clear,’ he says, looking at my sweaty appearance. ‘It’s all yours.’ He steps to the side and gestures with his hand while the other one clings onto the tiny towel.

‘Thanks,’ I say through gritted teeth. I walk very slowly past him.

It’s taking all of my mental energy not to trip up or look at how loosely he is holding that towel. It really could just drop any minute and he doesn’t seem bothered. His fresh scent follows me as I turn and lock the door.

I shower quickly, trying to rinse away my thoughts. My head feels like a whirlpool of confusion. Why do I let him bother me so much? Why did I have that crazy dream? That's the last thing I need in my life at the moment - another complication. Oh well, I only have to put up with him for a few weeks. It's not like I don't have enough to worry about. I’ve got another full day ahead with Venomous Victor. And I need to cancel my debit cards. And I still don't know who’s being made redundant.

When I’m finished I wrap myself in a towel and walk down the stairs towards my bedroom, already making a mental to do list for the day. I turn the corner at the banisters and almost bump right into Ryan, still holding his tiny towel. Why can't he just get dressed?

‘Oh, sorry,’ I say, clinging onto my towel, suddenly aware of how nearly naked I am.

‘Yep,’ he says, ducking to the left. I go the same way, and then we both go right.

He looks me dead in the eyes and the tip of his tongue pokes out, covering his upper lip. Could someone like him ever get nervous? His eyes hypnotise me, drawing me in. I want to look away, I really do. But it's like his eyes won't release me.

He puts both his hands on my waist and I take an involuntary sharp intake of breath. He clasps on harder and pushes me away to the right. His hands linger for a second too long and then he walks away calmly as if nothing has occurred.

Am I imagining the whole thing? Maybe I do have concussion. I stand there, panting from the wanting in my body. How does he manage to do that? Is he magic or something? I feel a bit sick, like I might pass out and I steady myself against the wall. I try to pull myself together and remind myself that I’m a grown up. I’m far too old to be acting like a teenager, crazy hormones racing through my veins. It was just a dream. You should never think of it again.

* * *





‘Morning Pops,’ Lilly says, perched on my desk, her long orange legs dangling off the side.

‘Hiya.’ I throw off my jacket and hand her one of the teas I’ve bought, while immediately pouring mine into my own china tea cup. I just cant drink out of cardboard. ‘Oh, and this is funny. Whose bright idea was it?’ I ask pointing towards my desk.

It's covered in shamrock confetti, leprechaun teddies and a trophy which has a post it attached saying ‘International Irish Dancing Champion.’ Ha ha bloody ha.

‘Don't know,’ she smirks. ‘And no thanks, I’m off caffeine.’ She hands me her tea back, sticking her nose up to it.

‘Off caffeine? Not another one. My new housemate is trying to make me give it up.’

Izzy decided to give me a lecture on healthy eating before I left this morning.

‘I’m on a detox. No more cellulite for me. All the celebs are doing it. You should do it with me!’ She eyes up my arse as if I were twenty stone.

‘Oh thanks! Nice to know you can count on your friends to make you feel better.’

‘Morning Poppy,’ Neville says, as he walks past in another frightening cartoon tie. Bless him.

‘Morning Nev. You look good today. New tie?’

He looks delighted and glances down at the tie, as if trying to remember when he bought it.

‘This old thing? I’ve had it years!’

I actually know this. He’s actually worn that tie nearly every week for the past year, but still. It's nice to be nice isn’t it?

‘Well it looks good.’

Lilly shoots me another warning look. She hates me being nice to Neville. Keeps telling me I’m leading the poor boy on and that he’ll get the wrong idea, but Neville knows it's just friendship between us. Plus it's handy having someone you know in accounts when you need to get Victor’s expenses paid immediately or he won't be able to attend the Grand Prix.

‘Have you girls checked out those new hand dryers in the bathroom?’ he asks excitedly.

‘I thought that was just a rumour!’ Lilly shouts in fake enthusiasm.

I cringe as Neville looks at Lilly, trying to work out if she’s serious or not.

‘Ignore her Neville.’ I shoot her a look. She really needs to stop being so mean.

‘Poppy!’ Victor yells.

Neville and Lilly jump. God, he never fails to catch us off guard and send me into a panic spiral. I run to his door, notebook and coffee in hand.

As I turn the corner I see a male figure sat across from his desk through the blinds. I hate when he has early morning meetings that he doesn’t bother putting in the diary. It completely throws me off. He’ll probably want me to go to Starbucks and get them both breakfast.

Victor sits on his desk in front of his guest. His pot belly is pressing against his too tight green shirt. Any minute now I’m sure a button’s going to ping off and blind me.

‘Poppy, I’d like you to meet someone.’

I plaster my usual polite smile across my face and reach down to shake the man’s hand and introduce myself. Only the face that greets me is a familiar face. Oh my God. Fear completely takes over my body and I freeze, trying to remain on my feet, the room moving around me.

It can't be. My bad luck can't have reached a new level already. I got mugged last night for God’s sakes.

Staring back at me is what’s-his-face from the other night.

‘Poppy, this is my Son Hugh.’

His SON?

‘Actually Dad, we’ve already been introduced.’ Hugh smiles wickedly and licks his lips.

‘Oh really?’ Victor enquires, cocking his head up in interest.

Hugh smiles at me, enjoying my humiliation. I feel my insides turn to liquid. I need to be sick. God, I can’t believe I ever thought I could sleep with a creep like this and get away un-scathed. I mean, who do I think I am? I am NOT Madonna.

‘Just through a friend,’ he answers coolly.

Thank God he didn’t tell him. My body starts to de-clench slightly. But then, how would he? Oh yeah Dad, we actually had wild sex the other night.

‘Actually, how is that friend of yours?’ Hugh asks me, cocking his head to the side. ‘I heard she got a right roasting from some fella she met.’

‘Hugh! Don’t use that kind of language around Poppy!’ Victor shouts at him, seeming horrified by his son’s behaviour.

God, he really would be horrified if he knew what kind of language he used the other night.

‘I’m sure she can take it.’ He locks eyes with me, as images of him taking my bra off with his teeth flash through my mind. I look down, completely ashamed. Why did I ever listen to Jazz!

‘Well anyway,’ Victor says, clearing his throat. ‘Hugh has just re-located here with his wife and children and–‘

‘Sorry, what?’ I blurt out, hoping I’ve heard wrong.

Wife and children? Please don't tell me I slept with a married man. I try to remember his hands. I was sure there was no wedding ring.

‘Poppy, are you unwell?’ Victor asks, seeming more annoyed than worried. ‘You seem to be acting a bit strange.’

‘Oh, do I? No...I’m fine. Absolutely...fine.’ I clear my throat uncomfortably.

I wish I could just run out of the office.

‘So anyway. As I was saying.’ He looks at me as if warning me to not interrupt again. ‘Hugh has relocated and is going to be taking the new position of HR Director. He’s going to help out with the redundancies. From now on, you’ll also be Personal Assistant to him. I hope that's ok.’

I go to open my mouth, but quickly shut it when I realise it was a rhetorical question.

This is going to be a nightmare.

* * *





I try to hide at my desk the rest of the day, but Victor calls me in again after lunch.

‘Poppy, Hugh’s new office is down the corridor. John’s old room. I suggest you go and get yourself used to him.’

Get used to him? If only he knew how familiar we were.

‘Of course.’ I force a smile and hand over his coffee. He doesn’t even look up, already dismissing me.

I walk up the long corridor towards John’s old office, feeling my heart beat fasten. Calm down. You’re a grown woman. He’s probably just as embarrassed as you are. Yet all I can think of is the thudding fear growing inside me.

I open the door to find him sitting with his feet up on the desk, a cappuccino in one hand and a paper in the other.

‘Hello Hugh.’ I smile politely. ‘Is there anything I can get you? Stationary? Maybe another drink?’

He looks up and smirks.

‘Hi. Sorry, what was your name again?’ he asks.

Is he serious?

‘Poppy,’ I say through gritted teeth. Resist the strong urge to throw his coffee over him.

‘Ah, yes that's it. Actually, you could help me with my computer. There seems to be a problem with it.’ He stands up, offering me his seat.

‘Sure.’

Maybe he won't mention it at all. Maybe that's why he asked my name. He’s trying to pretend the whole incident never happened, if only for his wife and kids. I walk round the desk and sit down looking at the blank screen.