‘Tell me why I’m doing this,’ I say, my hands still hovering over the keyboard.
‘Because you care about your job. But you’ve not put in any boundaries. You’ve earned a break,’ Ben says, his tone changing to sincere, almost serious.
‘I know?—’
‘Close the computer, pretend you didn’t see any emails, have a shower, a nap or whatever you were planning on doing,’ he tells me, shrugging his shoulders.
I carry on typing, visibly annoyed that work has this magnetic power over me.
‘Chloe…’ His voice is deep, attempting to be persuasive.
‘I might ask you to come here in a minute and literally prise this computer out of my hands,’ I say.
‘Really?’ He walks over tentatively, peering over my shoulder. ‘I believe that email is from Nancy, the one shagging the boss. Maybe think about why you shouldn’t help her.’
‘Because she’s a manipulative, horrific office leech,’ I say, my shoulders slumping. ‘And I am just enabling her behaviour.’
He leans over and tries to shut my computer but I suddenly snap out of my slump and reach over and slap him on the arm. Ben seems shocked but starts laughing. I cup my hands to my face.
‘Did you just hit me?’ he asks.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. God, I really need a break…a holiday,’ I joke.
‘Good job that you’re here then, eh?’ he says. ‘Why don’t you give me the laptop?’ he suggests, putting his hand out to take it.
But I make a strange move where I grab it to my chest and can’t seem to let it go.
‘Chloe, now is not the time for working. It’s time to be on holiday. They don’t deserve your time, your energy, your skills.’
‘You know nothing about my skills,’ I say, realising I sound vaguely flirty. To distract from this, I stand up and kick my leg in the air, trying to make out like I have ninja skills instead.
He looks at me completely bemused, unsure why I’ve turned this into a strange battle of wills. ‘Are you trying to roundhouse kick me now? Over a computer?’ he asks, chuckling.
‘I’d win that fight all day long. I’m covered in olive oil, I’d be able to slip out of your clutches, like an?—’
‘Eel?’ he says, unable to hold back his laughter.
‘Yes,’ I say. I’m still tightly gripping the laptop, like a swimming flotation device.
Ben smiles and gets me to sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. ‘Then tell me when does it stop, Chloe? You spend all of your holiday working until you go back to London next week and then you go straight back into it,’ he explains. ‘Don’tlet it own you like this. I beg you to give yourself the break you deserve.’
I pause. His words take hold of me and my once playful grin disappears from my face. ‘I hate that you’re right. How have I only known you for a day and you’re right?’
Ben adjusts his pose on the bed, keeping a respectful distance. ‘Was I too much then? Sorry if I was too much. I just hate the idea of you not relaxing like you should be. You’re still holding on to that laptop quite tightly.’
He’s not wrong, I don’t think my knuckles should be that colour.
‘That’s quite a grip. You’d be very good at rock climbing.’
‘Or a decent superhero,’ I say.
‘Does that make me the villain?’
‘You were never the villain,’ I tell him, unable to look him in the eye. ‘Maybe like a hot superhero villain.’
We sit there for a moment as I realise I may have said too much but yes, he is physically hot. But I also don’t think he understands how a hot stranger summing up my life in a few sentences, understanding me more than I know myself, is immensely confusing and also weirdly attractive. I look at Ben and put my computer down on the bedside table.
He smiles. ‘Well, that’s a good first step, Chloe.’
