Page 20 of Read My Lips

I groped him closer, hands on his arse. What an arse.

God, he should have been my morning. He should have been my night before. But I’d take a snog up against the wall at four in the morning for the sole purpose of not getting fired any day of the week.

In some distant reality I no longer belonged to, the fire door slammed closed again. Who cared? My tongue was in Simon Azie’s mouth, I was ruining the line of his suit, and he was not stopping me. Probably because he didn’t know I was stalker-level obsessed.

“Ah-hem.”

If that was my conscience, it could go and do one.

“Ben?”

“Mm?”

I blinked, and half of Sev’s face came into sharp focus over the top of Simon’s shoulder, two inches away from my nose.

“Jesus!” I zapped back hard, clanging my skull against the glass with a teeth-snapping crack. “Argh!”

Simon darted an unconcerned glance over his shoulder, already straightening his clothing. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Where’s Mel?” I asked, speaking as I signed. On the other side of the glass wall with the firedoor in it, the rest of our audience was gone.

“She’s got better things to do than stand around watching the pair of you get off with each other. She sent everyone home.”

“Excellent.” Simon got all devious and glinty. “She bought it then.”

“Or something.” Sev folded her arms across her chest, full of suspicion. “I hope you jokers know what you’re doing. Mel wants this…” She darted a finger between us. “Logged with HR immediately. And if anyone asks, the pair of you have been fucking like rabbits consistently – and exclusively, Simon. Since the Christmas party. I’m not off the hook until Richard’s off the hook. Mel’s given us until Monday to make that happen, so I am making sure you two muppets sell this crock of shit wherever it needs to be sold.”

Smoothing out a wrinkle on his waistcoat, Simon hummed absently, like she was filling him in on the latest PR campaign, not announcing he’d have to fake a relationship. With me.

“Run this by me will you? I’m struggling with how we got here. You happened to bump into Ben outside and he had nothing better to do at three in the morning than let you drag him into work and lie to Mel for you?”

My face went hot. Even Sev didn’t think it made sense.

Simon cleared his throat. “Actually, Ben was in the middle of a night out. He’s a hero for dropping everything. And for doing this.”

Hero. Yeah. Abso-fucking-lutely. Ben Cooper to the rescue. Would she rather we were all jobless and destitute?

“Right.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you’d never keep your very… loyal work colleague permanently on standby just in case. Would you, Simon?”

Simon’s expression cooled. “How exactly would I do that?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe you keep him locked up in your sex basement.”

Curveball. “Hey – that’s not⁠—”

Simon scoffed a laugh. “You know I don’t have a basement. Under-stairs cupboard, but Ben wouldn’t fit with Henry the Hoover.” Throwaway, unaffected. On form. He flashed me a wink and my whole head went hot. “A man has to prioritise.”

Sev gave a disgusted tut. My brain refused to supply any form of comeback.

“Erm. What do you mean sell it?”

Wasn’t it all over now? Mel had bought us kissing and me saying I’d been in the film. Simon wasn’t fired. He could spin the story to the world with all of his clever persuasions. Richard could deny everything. Surely there was nothing else to do?

Simon looped his arm through mine. “The thing is, Ben. The world is going to want a backstory.”

“...Backstory?” Oh I had not thought this through. Why had I not thought this through?

Sev looked at me like I only had one brain cell. “Just because you’re white-white and you seem to have a lot of muscles in the right sort of places for someone who might be mistaken for Richard Whittaker, if they were zapped with a height increasing ray gun and the lights were off⁠—”