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I know Ant way too well to think it’ll be a simple case of a light-hearted threesome with some cake and laughter to follow.
I could use the ensuite in my room tonight, but I don’t. When I need the toilet I cross the landing to the main bathroom, being sure to hover at the top of the stairs to check what’s going on down there.
I can hear both of their voices, but there is nothing raised or agitated about them. Just a muffle of chatter.
I’m standing there long enough to hear the pop as Ant opens a bottle of champagne.
Is Cass going to be drinking a lot before people start arriving?
No, of course not. I curse my own paranoia.
Ant wouldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t have her so trashed she wouldn’t know what the fuck she was doing.
Even so, I’m going to leave my bedroom door open, just a touch.
I’m back on my bed, kidding myself that I’m busy working when I hear the footsteps on the stairs. My heart does a rancid race of thumps, calming slightly when I realise it’s just the two of them out there on the landing.
“Let’s do this, baby. You’ll be great. Don’t worry.”
Ant’s voice pricks my ears. It’s his usual authoritative tone, masked in caring. I’ve heard it plenty of times in meetings when he wants to get his way.
Don’t worry.
Is she worried? Is he reassuring Cass because she’s worried?
No. I’m being paranoid.
I could put some music on and drown it out, but I don’t want to.
Is she worried? Is she drunk? Is she concerned about underperforming? Why the hell would she be concerned about anything?
Stop it. I’ve got to stop it. This is pure paranoia.
Ant’s footsteps are back on the landing a few minutes later and my heart thumps again, wondering who the fuck he’ll be bringing upstairs.
Nobody. His footsteps come back alone.
I hear another pop of champagne out on the landing before he goes back into their bedroom.
Bottle two? It can’t be. It would be way too soon.
I check the time. Yes, way too soon.
It’s less than thirty minutes until I hear Ant and Cass leave their bedroom. The same draft of an email has been on my screen the whole time, my fingers useless.
My stomach lurches when I hear the door of the mattress room opening. His voice is loud and strong.
“Come on, Cass. It’s time.”
I listen out for her voice in return, but she doesn’t speak. He doesn’t tell her not to worry this time. Good.
The door closes behind them, and I imagine her there on the mattress, waiting for a crowd of people to come and see her naked. To fuck her.
It makes me feel sick, but I tell myself it’s cool.
It’s none of my business. If that’s what she likes, that’s great. Brilliant match for him. Congratulations to the happy couple.
I’ve been staring at my screen for what seems like an age, fingers still useless when Ant goes downstairs for the second time. My ears are focused intently, and if it’s another bottle of champagne he’s bringing up with him I’m going to do it.
Paranoid or not – if I hear a third bottle of champagne pop while it’s just her likely to be drinking it, I’m going to be out there.
It’s not a third bottle of champagne coming up with him this time, and I was an idiot for considering it would be. It’s a trudge of heavy footsteps and a load of laughter. Jesus Christ, there are at least four guys along with Ant as he directs them along the landing.
It’s the laughter that gets my hackles up, not the footsteps. It’s the obvious disrespect for the amazing woman in that room as they talk about taking her sweet, hot cunt, like she’s nothing. They march across the landing on a mission, but fuck it – none of my business or not, I want to see the kind of people going in there. I get up from my bed and dump my laptop on the covers, cursing as the power lead catches. I reach the bedroom door as quickly as I can, but predictably, Ant pre-empts me.
He appears in my doorway as I do, and he has a smirk on his face, knowing exactly what I’ve just heard out there.
“Chill out, crusader. Get on with your reporting and keep your nose out. I’ve told you before, she fucking likes it. Go and check it out if you like? You’ll see what a happy girl she is with her legs spread wide. She’ll be smiling a whole lot brighter taking dick than she will be eating your cutesy chocolate cake later, believe me.”
Ant’s at ease, with so much confidence I feel like a jackass. Ease and confidence or not, it doesn’t stop me wanting to punch him in the face right now.
