AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t know, don’t care,” he sighs. “Chrissy’s decision. Anyway, she has PA’s galore so I’ll just poach her second assistant for a bit until I can find a replacement.” He lifts his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
“What, you mean, me…?”
“Why not? You were PA to the worst person on the planet. It’d be a walk in the park being beneath me. Get it?”
I giggle like I needed him to point out it was a joke. I’ve never appreciated that about him. A joke is a joke, so if it’s funny, people will laugh. If it’s not, telling them it’s funny isn’t suddenly going to make it funny.
Lame!
I swallow some wine and search his face. Nope. There’s not one bit of guilt in his eyes or expression.
“She was your PA, then? Downstairs, we didn’t know if she was Chrissy’s or yours?”
The confusing thing is, they all share the load, so sometimes when they email people, it’s unclear who they’re mailing on behalf of. But now I’m getting some understanding of the reason for having a bunch of rolling PA’s.
“Let’s talk about you,” he says, tapping the centre of my hand. “Would you fancy it? Working for me? Admit it, it’d be fun.”
I glance at his ring finger and notice the absence of a ring, but the subtle hint of one having sat there maybe an hour ago remains. So perhaps his wife is at a friend’s place tonight, or gone home for the weekend… and he will follow? Who knows?
“It could be fun,” I admit. “Would it be a pay rise?”
He winces at that. “Don’t think so.”
“Same pay, then?”
“Sure. Absolutely.”
“Let me think about it?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I wink and flash him a grin. “Let me get dinner.”
His face is a picture when I return to the table. I’ve laden down his plate whereas mine’s rather lacking in comparison. I only want to see his reaction. He has almost twice the amount of lamb moussaka I do and equal amounts of thick-cut chips and green beans.
Nearly choking, he says, “Wow, you spoil me.”
I’m inwardly laughing my head off. “You’re worth it.” I lean over before sitting down and plant a kiss on his mouth. He gives my rear a squeeze and glows with desire.
Once we get down to it, I watch him searching for his appetite as he bites tentatively and chews slowly. He already ate. No doubt with his wife. He got here at eight, but… people who’re going their separate ways for an evening tend to eat beforehand, right? If it’s only drinks he’s off out for, with “mates”.
“You’ve never fed me before,” he almost groans, swallowing down a calorie-laden chunk of chip.
“Feels like we’re getting serious, thought we might… you know… connect.”
He puts his cutlery down and reaches for my wrist. “We could connect elsewhere and have this dinner after?”
I tip my head back and give a giggle. “Suppose we could” – he starts to move – “but I’m starving so there’s that.”
He seats himself and coughs lightly to smother his grumbles, I decide.
I eat my dinner swiftly because I am, in fact, starved having managed just a banana and a packet of crisps at lunch. I’m finished before he’s managed even a tenth of his.
“Nervous and can’t eat?” I ask.
He puts down his knife and fork. “A little, I admit.”
“Nervous about what?”
