Lucy squeezed past me. ‘Well, my dear, you know what that makes you then?’
‘Um . . . a good girlfriend?’
‘Nope. A great big cum slut! Soon you won’t be happy until your face looks like it’s being prepared for wallpaper –Morning, everyone!’
Unable to finish this conversation, we both headed through to the meeting room where Dorothy had an announcement to make. ‘Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed working with you all, I’ve decided it’s time for me to move on. It’ll be officially announced later this week.’
‘Does this mean your position is open?’ Kelly asked almost immediately. ‘Is it being advertised internally?’
‘No one’s letting you run the office, Kelly,’ Brian responded on behalf of everyone.
Before they had time to argue, Dorothy stepped in. ‘As far as I know, the position is being advertised both internally and externally. I’ll keep you up to date but I’m due to leave at the end of the month.’
Blimey! I wonder who’ll replace her. Fuck, if Kelly did get the job, I think I’d leave. Maybe that’s what I need to get me out of here finally! I’ll ask her if she wants a reference.
Tuesday March 14th
Oliver is still chipper as fuck about the other day and showing his affection in various ways, like holding one of my boobs while we sleep and pulling me in from behind for hugs and neck-nuzzling. We even had a really slow, really deep spoon this morning where he was forced to cover my mouth with his hand to quieten my moans. Next sex jar request is scheduled for Thursday – my turn. Gosh, we only have another two each to do before we see Pam again to discuss our progress.
Wednesday March 15th
Oliver has assured me that eating out-of-date hummus won’t kill me. If I do die and the police are reading this, please arrest him.
Thursday March 16th
Sex jar time again! Oliver practically frogmarched me into the bedroom the moment I’d put Molly to bed, unwilling to meet with my ‘let me do the dinner dishes first’ demands. As he closed the door behind him quietly, I noticed that he’d already placed the jar on the bed.
‘Someone’s keen,’ I teased, hopping on to the bed. ‘Have you had a peek already?’
‘Nearly,’ he confessed, closing the blinds. ‘But it’s far more fun if I see your face while I read it.’
I watched him pick one of my yellow slips of paper from the jar. He didn’t look happy.
‘You want to fuck a stranger? What the hell, Phoebe? Why are you smiling?’
I guessed this was not the face, nor the request, he was expecting. ‘Relax.’ I laughed, placing my hand on his arm. ‘I want you to be the stranger – well, you, but notyouexactly.’
‘You’re so fucking weird,’ he said quietly, reading the note again. ‘But OK. I’m listening.’
‘I want us both to be other people for the night,’ I began, trying to explain more eloquently. ‘I’m going to book a room at a hotel. And I want to meet you in the bar. Maybe we’re both there on business. Maybe we’re just hanging out . . . maybe I’m in a mood with my boyfriend who didn’t do the dishes while I put our kid to bed—’
‘But I was going to aft—’
‘Whatever, we can work out the story. But I want you to flirt with me like we just met. I want to get a little tipsy. But most of all, I want the only thing on your mind to be how you’re going to get me up to that hotel room with you.’
He was suddenly very interested. ‘And when we get there?’
I leaned in. ‘Then I want you to do whatever the fuck you want to me.’
He ran his hand through his hair and muttered, ‘I’m fucking framing this one,’ before pulling my face into his and kissing me hard.
I can tell this is going to be a good one.
Friday March 17th
‘I have a huge favour to ask.’
Hazel looked at me suspiciously from the other side of a clothes rail. ‘What have you done?’
