‹ Prequel: Black Sheep
The Other Woman
Chapter Two
My heels clicked on the marble floor on the way into work. So many people grouped about, meeting old friends, meeting new friends, meeting business associates and enemies. Showing my pass, I walked past reception and through the security door. I headed towards the lift, flicking through the numerous email notifications that popped up on my phone. As I looked up I saw someone holding the lift open for me. Quickly half-jogging into the lift I thanked the man holding it and pressed the button for my floor.
“Thanks for that.” I said as I looked up at the tall, handsome, chocolate-eyed chunk of hunk in front of me.
“Well anything to help a pretty lady like yourself.” I was blushing. Damn! He made me blush. “I’m Max.” He said, offering his hand to me. I detected a hint of an Australian accent on him.
“Becca.” I maneuvered my handbag on my arm, to shake his hand. The lift was full of a musky masculine scent that could only come from Max. ‘Just play it cool Bex,’ I thought to myself ‘How many opportunities do you get to spend a whole lift journey with a man like this’.
“Are you new here” He asked, “I haven't seen you around.”
“It's my first day back. I've had a couple of weeks off.” The numbers on the wall of the lift got closer and closer to floor 15, where I needed to be. I’d never met Max before but something about him made me think I would be seeing more of him, preferably naked in my bed.
“Well, welcome back.” He said with a smirk on his face. I could see a slight dimple in his cheek beneath the stubble. “Any plans for welcome back drinks?”
“No. Not really. I doubt anyone would turn up anyway, especially on a Monday night.”
“Don’t be silly. How about me and you go and anyone else can join us?” He had a cocky smirk on his face.
“That would be nice.” I agreed
“Nice?! I think it would be a lot more than nice.” He winked. The lift slowed and stopped. “Meet me downstairs by the lift yeah?” I could find the words. I was totally flustered by this tall, stubbly aussie that took me for six. I just nodded. The doors opened and he swaggered out of the lift, turned left and went down the corridor. I was totally dumbstruck. I had only spoken to him for a matter of seconds but those few seconds had turned me into a giggly schoolgirl. I was so bewildered that I almost didn’t notice the lift doors closing. I jumped and squeezed through the doors.
**************
“What do you mean we can’t go out?” I sat on my sofa, snapping my compact mirror shut. I had spent at least an hour getting ready for our date night.
“I just don’t want to.” He mumbled like a little boy who didn’t want to visit his grandparents’.
“Why not? You’ve been looking forward to this almost as much as me.” We had planned the night weeks in advance so neither of us were busy, and so that security could know what Harry was doing.
“I just don’t think we should go out.”
“What’s wrong, there has to be something wrong?” I couldn’t get my head around it. Why all of a sudden did he not want to go out?
“There’s nothing wrong, I just don’t want to go out!” He snapped, sitting himself down in the armchair. He chewed his thumbnail and bounced his knee up and down.
“You were more than happy to go out last weekend when Skippy texted you out of the blue.” I mumbled, sitting back in the chair.
“I hardly ever see Skippy.” He rested his chin in his hand and looking out of the window. “And I see you every day.”
“You know that’s a lie.” I mumbled as I reached for my handbag, looking for my phone.
“Does it really matter? Yes I went out with Skippy last week. No I don’t want to go out with you tonight.” He stared, annoyed, out of the window, chewing his thumbnail. He had played this game before, a thousand times over. He would look miserable, like a sad little puppy, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and make you feel really sorry for him. It usually worked, but not tonight.
“Well I’m going out regardless.” I said, searching around for my keys.
“You can’t” He said following me around my flat like a lap dog.
“Who says?” I turned to raise my eyebrows at him.
“Me.”
*******
“So what made you want to work here?” I said, reaching for the bowl of sweet potato fries that Max and I decided on sharing.
“Can we not talk about work?” He said shuffling his bar stool closer to mine. “I want to talk about you.”
“Why me? I’m really not important.” I gripped the straw of my seventh, or maybe eighth, double vodka and soda and directed it to my mouth having missed the last few times..
“Someone must think you’re important.” He said, “otherwise there wouldn’t be a group of reporters hanging out by the toilets trying to find out my name.” He winked and nodded his head over towards the toilet doors. My double vision made me squint to try and make out the team of ‘undercover’ reporters who were stopping everyone that walked past them.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, they just always seem to-”
“It’s fine, don’t apologise.” His hand covered mine. “How about we go somewhere where they won’t follow us.” My eyes caught his. He had a dark look in his eye, and I caught on to exactly what he intended. With one last check of my phone we left the bar. I had one text from ‘H’. I gripped Max’s hand as my legs wobbled slightly. I blamed the heels when really it was probably the vodka. And the wine. And the couple of tequila shots we did. My hazy mind decided to text Harry back. He had texted me constantly all day. The latest one said ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. Let me know you’re alright, H xxx’. What else could I do to get him off my back.
“Thanks for that.” I said as I looked up at the tall, handsome, chocolate-eyed chunk of hunk in front of me.
“Well anything to help a pretty lady like yourself.” I was blushing. Damn! He made me blush. “I’m Max.” He said, offering his hand to me. I detected a hint of an Australian accent on him.
“Becca.” I maneuvered my handbag on my arm, to shake his hand. The lift was full of a musky masculine scent that could only come from Max. ‘Just play it cool Bex,’ I thought to myself ‘How many opportunities do you get to spend a whole lift journey with a man like this’.
“Are you new here” He asked, “I haven't seen you around.”
“It's my first day back. I've had a couple of weeks off.” The numbers on the wall of the lift got closer and closer to floor 15, where I needed to be. I’d never met Max before but something about him made me think I would be seeing more of him, preferably naked in my bed.
“Well, welcome back.” He said with a smirk on his face. I could see a slight dimple in his cheek beneath the stubble. “Any plans for welcome back drinks?”
“No. Not really. I doubt anyone would turn up anyway, especially on a Monday night.”
“Don’t be silly. How about me and you go and anyone else can join us?” He had a cocky smirk on his face.
“That would be nice.” I agreed
“Nice?! I think it would be a lot more than nice.” He winked. The lift slowed and stopped. “Meet me downstairs by the lift yeah?” I could find the words. I was totally flustered by this tall, stubbly aussie that took me for six. I just nodded. The doors opened and he swaggered out of the lift, turned left and went down the corridor. I was totally dumbstruck. I had only spoken to him for a matter of seconds but those few seconds had turned me into a giggly schoolgirl. I was so bewildered that I almost didn’t notice the lift doors closing. I jumped and squeezed through the doors.
**************
“What do you mean we can’t go out?” I sat on my sofa, snapping my compact mirror shut. I had spent at least an hour getting ready for our date night.
“I just don’t want to.” He mumbled like a little boy who didn’t want to visit his grandparents’.
“Why not? You’ve been looking forward to this almost as much as me.” We had planned the night weeks in advance so neither of us were busy, and so that security could know what Harry was doing.
“I just don’t think we should go out.”
“What’s wrong, there has to be something wrong?” I couldn’t get my head around it. Why all of a sudden did he not want to go out?
“There’s nothing wrong, I just don’t want to go out!” He snapped, sitting himself down in the armchair. He chewed his thumbnail and bounced his knee up and down.
“You were more than happy to go out last weekend when Skippy texted you out of the blue.” I mumbled, sitting back in the chair.
“I hardly ever see Skippy.” He rested his chin in his hand and looking out of the window. “And I see you every day.”
“You know that’s a lie.” I mumbled as I reached for my handbag, looking for my phone.
“Does it really matter? Yes I went out with Skippy last week. No I don’t want to go out with you tonight.” He stared, annoyed, out of the window, chewing his thumbnail. He had played this game before, a thousand times over. He would look miserable, like a sad little puppy, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and make you feel really sorry for him. It usually worked, but not tonight.
“Well I’m going out regardless.” I said, searching around for my keys.
“You can’t” He said following me around my flat like a lap dog.
“Who says?” I turned to raise my eyebrows at him.
“Me.”
*******
“So what made you want to work here?” I said, reaching for the bowl of sweet potato fries that Max and I decided on sharing.
“Can we not talk about work?” He said shuffling his bar stool closer to mine. “I want to talk about you.”
“Why me? I’m really not important.” I gripped the straw of my seventh, or maybe eighth, double vodka and soda and directed it to my mouth having missed the last few times..
“Someone must think you’re important.” He said, “otherwise there wouldn’t be a group of reporters hanging out by the toilets trying to find out my name.” He winked and nodded his head over towards the toilet doors. My double vision made me squint to try and make out the team of ‘undercover’ reporters who were stopping everyone that walked past them.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, they just always seem to-”
“It’s fine, don’t apologise.” His hand covered mine. “How about we go somewhere where they won’t follow us.” My eyes caught his. He had a dark look in his eye, and I caught on to exactly what he intended. With one last check of my phone we left the bar. I had one text from ‘H’. I gripped Max’s hand as my legs wobbled slightly. I blamed the heels when really it was probably the vodka. And the wine. And the couple of tequila shots we did. My hazy mind decided to text Harry back. He had texted me constantly all day. The latest one said ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. Let me know you’re alright, H xxx’. What else could I do to get him off my back.