For the next few hours I plunged myself into work, keeping my head full of numbers and appointments so as not to think about my boss. Every time I found my mind wandering to the way it felt when he touched me, or how intoxicating it was to have his mouth on my skin, his lips sucking, I forced myself to concentrate on data. Data wasn’t sexy. It was dull and flat and two-dimensional, and the perfect bucket of cold water for my wandering imagination.
I didn’t see King for the rest of the day, nor did I see much of him for the following few days. I went out with Eleanor and Gillian for lunch and avoided our strange bathroom chess games. He never called me out on the fact that I was avoiding him, which was a relief. And after a while it became easier to simply concentrate on being good at my job, rather than cultivating a surreal friendship with my boss.
When it was finally Eleanor’s last day, Gillian and I got together to organise for a cake to be delivered to the office. There wasn’t a big going-away party, because Eleanor had stated firmly that she didn’t want one, and you didn’t eff with Eleanor’s wishes. I thought the least we could do was get her a cake, especially since she’d been so helpful training me into the job.
It was just after five when a couple of the other admin workers came over to our area to share the cake. We’d ordered red velvet, since that was Eleanor’s favourite. I stood chatting with my coworkers, a paper plate in hand, when suddenly I felt his presence. He’d been ignoring me somewhat, though I couldn’t tell if it was because he was embarrassed by his drunken behaviour or angry at me for shutting him down.
In my peripheral vision I saw King come to stand behind me. He observed the gathering, which was comprised mostly of women, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed him. Then I felt his hand lightly touch my elbow, followed by his breath on my ear.
“Alexis, can I have a word in private, please?”
I turned my head to him slightly and nodded, my posture stiff. “Sure.”
He gestured for me to follow him into his office. Once I was inside, he shut the door. I still had my cake in hand, and found myself clutching the paper plate like a life raft, no clue what this was all about. Was I going to be given my marching orders? No, it couldn’t be that.
King stood in front of his desk, leaning back against it and folding his arms as he eyed me. I wore a grey pencil skirt and a modest cream blouse, an ensemble I’d never be caught dead in outside the office. It was like a costume, something that made me feel like a different person, someone who belonged here in the City with the privileged and educated. King wore a navy suit with a slim red tie. He could have been a politician if he weren’t so handsome.
I always wondered if men felt like they had the upper hand when they wore a suit. It certainly seemed that way to me.
“We can’t go on like this,” said King.
“Like what?” I asked, playing dumb.
“You know what. You’re avoiding me, I’m avoiding you. There’s an…awkwardness. I don’t do awkward. I want to go back to the way things were.” His huff of annoyance almost made me laugh. I swear, sometimes he was a terrible communicator, like a frustrated kid or something.
“Your behaviour the last time we spoke was worrying to me. I was trying to help.”
“And I wanted you to help.”
“Not in the right way, Oliver.”
His eyes flared when I said his name, and I couldn’t tell if it was because he liked it or because he didn’t. Before I knew it, he stepped away from the desk and came towards me until there very little space left between us.
“I’ve missed you,” he confessed.
My expression softened. “I’ve missed you, too.”
He levelled his eyes on me, his attention wandering over my features. “Can we put it behind us?”
I thought about it for only a moment before answering, “It’s already forgotten. Put her there, buddy.” I held out my hand to him, and his lips twitched as we shook.
“So, is there enough cake left for one more?” he asked, smiling.
“Of course,” I answered, and with that we went back out to join the others.
***
It was difficult getting used to not having Eleanor around at first, but I quickly got the hang of things. Soon enough Gillian and I were a team to be reckoned with, and although we didn’t click quite so well as friends, we were perfect for each other when it came to work. Gillian was the best organiser, and I was the best bilateral thinker. In other words, I could see the bigger picture and was good at figuring out problems or working my way around time-sensitive emergencies. And when it came to this particular industry, there were a lot of those.
It was fast-paced and exciting, and no two days were ever the same. I also began to see how addictive King’s job could be. He always said he only made decisions based on evidence and fact, but a lot of the time the whole thing felt like a bit of a gamble to me. There was a thrill to his position, not to mention a great deal of power, and I could certainly see why he’d chosen a banking career over playing piano like his mum.
We began having lunch together again, and often King would have a drink. I hadn’t noticed it at the beginning, but it was now clear to me that he was pretty big into his liquor. Not in a way that seemed like he had a problem, but in a way that made me think it could easily turn into one. I supposed he needed something to deal with the stress of playing with millions of pounds on a daily basis.
It had been a long week, and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend of doing nothing at all. I’d arrived home with Indian takeout, changed into my pyjamas, and settled in front of the TV. The forkful of chicken korma was literally halfway to my mouth when my phone began ringing. Sighing, I put it down and answered the call. King’s name flashed across the screen. As soon as I hit “accept” and held it to my ear, he began to speak.
“Please tell me you have a valid passport.”
His statement got me curious. “And if I do?”
“If you do, you can have another bonus. Gillian just called, almost in tears, might I add, to tell me she’s lost hers and won’t be able to get a replacement for at least three working days. She’s being emotional, and I don’t like that. You’d swear she ran over my cat or something.”
“Oh,” I said, brow crinkling. “You have a cat?”
“Turn of phrase.”
“Right.”
I was unsure if I should laugh or start to panic. I now understood what was going on. All week Gillian and I had been planning King’s work trip to Rome. He was supposed to be meeting with some businessman who owned a chain of hotels, and who insisted on face-to-face business dealings. All of this was being done on behalf of a mysterious silent investor of King’s, and Gillian was supposed to be going along on the trip. The idea of me going had never even come up. Until now, that was.
“I need you to come to Rome in Gillian’s place, Alexis.”
My voice was quiet when I responded, “Do you think that’s wise?” We’d both been doing so well at keeping things platonic. Going on a trip and spending lots of one-on-one time together could potentially mess with that.
“At this point, I don’t have another choice. There’s too much work for me to handle alone. I need you.”
It struck me that he wasn’t telling me I had to go. He was leaving it open, giving me the option to say no. I couldn’t say no, of course, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate his sensitivity. We both knew that alone time outside the confines of the office was pretty shaky territory for us.
I let out a breath. “I’ll come. The flights are for ten in the morning, right? Do you need me to contact the airline and change the name on Gillian’s ticket?”
There was definite relief in his voice the next time he spoke. “Thank you. And yes, that would be hugely helpful.”
“All right. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”