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‘I don’t know if my union rules allow me to do work unless I’m paid for it!’
‘Happy to buy you a couple of drinks,’ he offered, giving her a slow smile.
She fluttered her thick false lashes at him. ‘Now you’re talking! I’ll see what I can do.’
‘You’re an angel. I was in too much of a hurry, coming into the studio, and caught my sleeve on a door-handle.’ Sean had spent some time arranging the ‘accident’; he hoped it looked natural.
‘You’ll have to take it off, honey. I can’t sew it while you’re wearing it.’
Sean began undoing his buttons, slid the shirt off. Marty eyed his broad shoulders and muscled chest, her tongue-tip running around her lower lip.
She put out a hand and squeezed his arm muscles. ‘I bet you work out regularly.’
‘In every sense of the word,’ Sean said, and she giggled.
‘Naughty boy.’ Her hand lingered on his bare arm, stroking him.
Her hair was the most extraordinary colour; a mass of wild orange curls, flauntingly unreal. Was it a wig? Or dyed? And how old was she? Close to fifty, he suspected. And dressing like fifteen.
She sat down and began work on his sleeve; it only took her a short while, her needle moving deftly and quickly.
‘Brilliant,’ Sean congratulated, shrugging back into his shirt.
As he started doing up the buttons again, she pushed his hand away and did it for him, her scarlet-nailed fingers moving slowly down his chest. Sean had to fight the impulse to shudder. He disliked her touching him. Her nails were so long and so pointed, more like the talons of a predatory bird; he had a sudden image of them tearing at him, rending him, and the hairs rose on the back of his neck
‘You dating Harriet?’ she asked him softly.
He shook his head.
‘Everyone’s betting you are.’
‘Then everyone is wrong.’
‘Our shining, shimmering star, then?’
Sean looked blankly down at her. ‘What?’
She gave him a cynical smile. ‘Sweet little old Annie, darling – the star of the show, are you giving it to her?’
‘No,’ he said, disliking her so intensely he wanted to hit her, but trying hard not to show it.
Her fingers lingered suggestively around his belt, clipping into it, slithering down inside his jeans.
Sean tried to look as if he liked it. His smile was hurting his face and he felt cold sweat on his forehead.
‘If there’s anything else I can ever do for you, just ask,’ she purred.
He felt sick, but said, ‘We did agree to have those drinks, remember?’
‘I’m working until six.’
‘The pub across the road does a great steak and we could split a bottle of red wine.’
‘Big spender. OK, then – six o’clock in the pub.’
Annie said goodbye at the end of the corridor – Johnny was going to the right, to take the lift down to the exit, and she was going down the stairs to the studio.
‘Thank you for a very good interview. I’ll let you see a copy before it goes to the printers,’ Johnny said.
