“Noted.” He checks his watch. “I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes, and I’d prefer not to do it in cycle-wear.” His lips curl up again as he reaches for his black jeans. “You are welcome tostay if you’d like to explore the benefits of becoming my fiancée.” His dimple winks at me.
Part of me wants to close the gap between us, wants to peel those leggings off him, run my hands over his muscular butt and thighs. I cough. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid. And I’ve a feeling my confusion is clear on my face. Anders would not stop me. It would play directly into his hands.
I scurry out of his office and drop into the chair behind my desk. I have no intention of marrying Anders, despite my libido seeming to have shaken itself from dormancy and roared into life around him. Maybe Nur, Dana, and Ginny are right. Maybe it’s time to find someone to date.
Of course, that might be a problem. How am I going to meet anyone? I don’t have hobbies. I look after Effie and I work. Cerium is drowning in single men, but very few of them are dateable. There’s obviously Anders, but Ginny’s recent problem has more than highlighted the dangers of dating your boss. She’s off today, but come Monday morning, she’s going to be sitting right beside him for eight hours a day, five days a week.
Back to when Mike left, much of my healing came from him being out of sight, so I could put him out of my mind and get on with my life. Ginny won’t have that blessing; he’ll be telling her what to do and when to do it daily. I’ll be amazed if she doesn’t spend the weekend searching for a new job. I don’t want to find myself in a similar situation.
Besides, Anders has declared his objective to be marriage. I might be in need of sex – a roll in the hay as Dana described it – but I’m a long way from wanting that to come with a wedding ring.
Steve strolls up to my desk. “Morning,” they say, a warm smile reaching all the way to their eyes. It makes me feel like they’re genuinely pleased to see me.
Of course, Steve is the obvious contender. We can cover all the first date, getting-to-know-each-other stuff at work. They aren’t part of the senior management team, so professionally they’re safe. And if it all ends badly, avoiding them wouldn’t bethathard. I take a moment to study them in this new light. They’re average height, average build, slightly puffy around the edges – certainly not as toned as Anders. But when did I start judging a person’s attractiveness against Anders?
They wear straight-legged jeans, tan leather lace-ups, and a collared shirt. It’s well-balanced, just the right combination of relaxed but professional. On one level, they’re exactly the type of person I want to date. Kind, personable, presentable. And if that personality carries over to sex, I’m sure they’d be a considerate lover. Maybe not three orgasm material, but a guaranteed happy ending.
But then they turn their head as Ahmed joins us and I see the topknot is back. Suddenly it’s a non-starter. My smile falters. Turning away, I message Anders to check it’s okay before sending them in. I’m not sure how they would respond to seeing Anders trouser-less. Probably better than me. As they disappear into his office, I take a deep breath. I will have to find someone else to have sex with.
By lunchtime, news about Piotr’s breakup with Ginny has raced around the office. Nur and Chloe are abuzz as I join them with my packed lunch of delicious leftovers. The food last night was divine. I don’t know how I’m going to return to supermarket hummus when I now know what it can taste like. I dip a carrot stick into the swirl of yumminess and concentrate on eating, so I don’t have to talk.
“Do you think there’s someone else?” Chloe asks.
“In my experience, there’s always someone else,” Nur replies. “Men don’t jump until they have someone to jump to.”
That’s been my experience as well, but I keep quiet. Ginny didn’t say, and it’s not my place to speculate. Even if she had said something, it would have been in confidence.
“Well, his expenses are going to the back of the queue,” Chloe mutters. I pretend I don’t hear her by suddenly affecting interest in who’s just entered the break room. Nur’s her boss, not me.
Except it’s Steve, smiling their cheerfulness, stopping to chat with a bunch of programmers who fall about laughing at a comment they make.
“You could do worse.” Nur’s voice whispers in my ear. I turn to see both her and Chloe watching me watch Steve. “He likes you.” She gives a knowing nod to indicatelike,not like.
“They, not he.” The hazards of being a mother. I correct automatically. “Some people think it’s a new thing, but did you know that Chaucer used ‘they’ in the singular? To refer to a person of uncertain gender.”
“Theylike you,” Nur corrects herself. “And it’s good to know an English degree can be so useful.”
Gaming attracts diversity and Steve isn’t the only gender fluid employee in Cerium. So I turn my head and lower my voice as I murmur, “It’s the man-bun. I know it makes me shallow, but I can’t get past it. It’s just…” I search for the right word, “tragic.”
“Ridiculous more like.” Chloe observes.
“Interesting.” But Nur is prevented from expanding on her comment as Steve arrives at our table. They point to an empty chair and I nod my acquiescence.
“Sorry to hear about Ginny,” they say as they open their bento box. “Please pass on my best to her. I’m Team Ginny all the way.”
I nod though I’ve no intention of doing any such thing. Ginny probably suspects everyone is talking about her. She doesn’t need it confirmed. Steve keeps the conversation light and bright with an amusing anecdote of being on a video call with someone whose dog peed on their laptop.
“He had his camera on, so we all got an eyeful of the dog’s bollocks. It’s ruined the phrase for me. From now on, I won’t be able to hear it without thinking of a Jack Russell’s penis.”
I chuckle politely along with the others before excusing myself because it’s time for my Friday afternoon catch-up with Anders.
Exactly a week ago, he proposed and I wonder what I’m walking into this time. Our whole dynamic has changed. And although Anders seems quite comfortable with it, I’m finding my stray sexual fantasies upsetting and confusing. I bet he’s not struggling with anything of the sort. He’s not fixating on sliding my skirt over my hips and ramming me against the plate-glass window as he enters me. His nipples aren’t suddenly aching at the thought of straddling him on the black leather sofa.
For years we’ve worked together and never once have I daydreamed of being bent over his desk while he pistoned into me from behind like some dubious quality porn movie. But in the last week, I’ve imagined all these scenarios. And the only thing in my life that’s changed has been Anders’s proposal. In my head, he’s switched from off-limits to totally fuckable and I don’t know how to move him back again.
How do you go back to seeing someone as an asexual being? It does happen. Once upon a time I was crazy about Mike. I couldn’t wait for him to get home before I dragged him off for sex. Now when he turns up, there is nothing except a mild repulsion and immense relief that Effie won’t be disappointed. Not one tiny thread of lust has survived.
When in need, ask the internet. I spend five minutes searching for advice.Cut off all contact. Well, that’s a non-starter given he’s my boss.Stop sharing specialness. Hmph. Guess what the P stands for in PA? Think about the consequences. Believe me, Ginny is front and centre of my mind, a living embodiment of the consequences.
