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“No. No. Nothing like that, just, well. I have other plans in the pipeline and well, it is a necessary decision,” I fumbled through my pathetic excuse.
“You’ve done good work on the project. You even got the attention of Mr Lucas, that’s no easy thing. He’s not known for taking an interest in a project at this level.”
I tried not to blush at the mention of Jason’s name. “I know, well, perhaps it has inspired me to seek new pastures.” A half-truth.
Andy asked me to finished off my work, write it all up in a report and then dismissed me. I actually felt bad. I had nothing against the guy and he had been a fair boss to me. I sighed as I sat at the desk, at least I had done the deed. I did not intend to tell the others in the office of my plans. Andy could leak the news out in his own way. That night I would start packing my apartment up ready for the weekend move. Jason had arranged a removal van and men to come to collect my personal possessions on Saturday. All of a sudden, things were happening quickly.
***
Staring around my bedroom, I looked at the packing boxes and piles of stuff. I needed to be more selective, I could easily fill his houses with unnecessary crap. It was Tuesday evening and I was busy packing ready to move out at the weekend. I laughed aloud when I recollected his response to a question about what I should take where.
“So you see, Jason,” I had said fingers running through my hair, “what will I need during the week, you know, in the townhouse, and what at the weekend at Blythewood. Should I take my watercolours and easel here or there?” I was sitting on the bed, hands on hips.
“Well, apart from the fact I’m impressed with your artistic hobby, you do realise I’m stinking rich and you can have two easels and paint boxes, and whatever else you use? One here and the other there? Make sense?”
I
could sense the blushing heat in my face as he threw his head back and laughed at my small worldview of my future lifestyle.
“Oh,” was all I could think to say, “yes, I suppose I could buy another easel.”
“I’ve given you an allowance, remember? You’ll need new clothes, good quality stuff and jewels. I’d like my girl to look good.”
I leapt into Jason’s arms full of gratitude, and started to kiss him, ready to submit to his attentions again.
***
In the end I had chucked a lot of stuff. The bin bags lined the entrance hall. My apartment was starting to look like a hoarder’s den. I settled back on my bed to relax and enjoy a small glass of white wine. I savoured its dryness in my mouth as I chilled out. My mobile started to ring, his ringtone, so I knew to answer quickly.
“Jason?” I asked cautiously.
“Gemma, just checking on my girl.”
I beamed at those words.
“How’s the sorting going?” he sounded cheerful.
“Slowly, I’m not being very decisive,” I said honestly. “Taking a break with a glass of the old vino.”
“Drinking while packing, um, not very wise,” he teased me.
“I’m not pissed,” I replied indignantly.
“I should hope not. I don’t know if you can control your urges while tipsy,” Jason’s voice had dropped and become husky with a formidable edge to it.
“Oh, sir, I wouldn’t dream of breaking your rules.” I shot up on my bed.
“What are you wearing?”
My insides were starting to do their somersault thing. He wanted to torment me over the phone.
“I’ve got a t-shirt on, that lacy pink bra you like and knickers...” My voice trailed off.
“And?” Jason’s words were becoming softer and sensuous with each utterance.
“Well, that’s it, sir.” I almost whispered. Nothing else, I had taken my jeans off earlier after spilling coffee on them.
“I see, so you’re prancing around in your underwear basically.”
