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I can hear voices chatting inside, so I knock and wait for someone to let me in. A few seconds later a woman in her late thirties opens the door. She looks like a red-haired Sarah Jessica Parker; one of those women whose features don’t seem like they’d make an attractive face, but somehow they do. I also notice that our hair is almost the exact same shade of red. Her eyes are different from mine, though, all brown and gold like caramel.
She gives me a polite smile. “Oh, hello, are you the new intern they were sending me?”
Before I can answer, Robert steps in front of her, smiling brightly. “She’s not your intern, Olivia. This is my girlfriend, Lana.”
He wraps his arm around my waist, and while my brain is still processing the name “Olivia” and coming up with the shocking fact that this is the married woman Robert was with, I thrust my hand out to shake hers.
Her eyes widen by a tiny fraction as she returns the handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, smiling and appraising me at the same time. She’s probably thinking how unsuited Robert and I are for one another. We look like polar opposites; him in his suit and me in my quirky vintage wear.
“It’s lovely to meet you, too,” I say, withdrawing my hand and allowing Robert to tuck me tighter under the crook of his arm.
“I take it you’re from Ireland?” she says, folding her arms and hooking one high-heeled foot behind the other. She’s got a tight navy shift dress on, her long hair twisted up at the back of her head in a clip.
Surreptitiously looking to the side, I see that Jimmy and another man are in Robert’s office as well, and I breathe out a relieved sigh. At least she wasn’t in here alone with him.
I laugh. “Yeah, did the accent give me away?”
She makes a gesture with her thumb and forefinger. “Little bit.” Her eyes wander to Robert, and she grins at him in a satisfied way. “Who would have thought it? You have a thing for redheads, Rob. I must have given you a taste for them.”
Robert frowns, and Olivia’s lips purse with the pleasure of having outed him. Little does she know, I’m already well aware of their history.
His hand roams over my hip as he ducks his head and plants a kiss on the hollow of my throat. He’s staring at me adoringly when he answers, “It’d be Lana who did that, actually, Olivia dear.”
Her mouth drops open, and for a second she doesn’t breathe a word. “Well,” she says finally, all huffy. “I’d better be going. Enjoy your lunch.” She puts a snappy emphasis on the word “lunch,” catty as you please.
With that she strolls out of the office, swinging her hips as if trying to communicate with her body language that she doesn’t give a shit.
Robert groans and shakes his head. “And to think I took a beating for that woman.”
“Is she back with her husband now?” I ask, far too eagerly.
He eyes me in surprise. “How did you know?”
“I heard the name Olivia and put two and two together. So, is she?”
“Her husband makes a half a million pounds a year. What do you think?”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
Jimmy and the other man make their way past us, nodding goodbye to Robert and carrying on with their “all-business” chat. Robert closes the door and swings me around, planting his lips on mine and coaxing my mouth open with his tongue. I’ve just started unbuttoning his shirt when the phone on his desk rings. He draws away from me reluctantly and goes to answer it.
I take the opportunity to have a look around his office.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Bring it on up,” he says, and then puts the phone down, glancing at me. “Food is on its way.”
I nod and stare at the quintessential London view out his window. He growls seductively and begins striding toward me. The look in his eye gives me a jolt of nerves, and I shriek with laughter, running away from him. He chases me around his desk for a good three minutes straight before there’s a knock on the door. I lean against the glass window, trying to catch my breath. Who knew I had it in me to be so playful?
“Come in,” Robert calls, and a short, blond guy walks in carrying two brown paper bags and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. He places all of it on the table and leaves after Robert tips him. I make a quick trip to the bathroom to take my medicine. Feeling flirtatious upon returning, I go and sit on Robert’s chair instead of one of the three situated in front of his desk. It’s a big leather swivel number, comfortable as heaven and expensive as hell.
As I rummage through the bags, I find a Greek salad, sourdough bread, hummus, and dipping oils.
“This looks delicious,” I say, taking a bite out of a piece of bread. When I look up, Robert is standing before me with his hand outstretched. I take it, and he pulls me from the seat before swiftly taking my place and positioning me on his lap. His arms come around my waist to reach for the food, and I let my head fall back onto his shoulder.
I feel his low voice vibrate against my back when he asks, “You hungry?”
“Starving,” I whisper as he picks up some bread, dips it in oil, and brings it to my mouth. I take a bite, and he purrs in approval. I should elbow him in the ribs for acting silly, but I’m actually finding that I enjoy him feeding me.
“So,” I begin casually, after several minutes of Robert giving me bites of food and me returning the favour for him. “What was your meeting with Olivia about?”
He chuckles. “And Jimmy and Conrad, you mean?”
“Uh, yeah, and those two,” I say, feigning forgetfulness and pouring some juice into a glass on Robert’s desk.
