She (17 page)

Half an hour later my desk phone rings.

“Gemima Samuels, how may I help you?”

I hear Logan chuckle down the line. “Hey, baby,” he says.

“Hello, Sir, what can I do for you?” I keep my voice professional in case anyone overhears.

“Well, I was just thinking…and I couldn’t quite remember if I ever told you how much I love the sounds you make in the bedroom?” he whispers, sexily.

I smile to myself, and feel my face redden due to his candid words. Fortunately though, my line of work allows me to say, “
Just
the bedroom?” without anyone being wise to what our conversation is really about.

“No. Also the bathroom…the living room…”

“Uh-huh.”

“The kitchen…oh, and the porch…mustn’t forget that.”

“Quite.”

“Seriously, the sexiest,
sexiest
thing I’ve ever heard! And I’m looking very much forward to hearing it again this evening. The very moment we enter my apartment…”

An impulse of carnal longing shoots through my body. I crave him. “Your sentiments have been noted, and your request will be acted upon as soon as possible.”

“How satisfactory.”

“I hope so. Especially as I echo your sentiments entirely in reference to you in those afore mentioned rooms.”

“You’re so good at your job,” I can hear him smile.

“Thank you, Sir. Will, uh, that be all?”

“You don’t think Clemence is listening in, do you?” he asks.

I can’t help but laugh. “I doubt it. I have to see her later, so if she is, I’m sure she’ll let me know.”

“I’ve been thinking—”

“Yes, you already told me,” I cut him off playfully.

He chuckles. “
Other
than that, I’ve realised that I can meet you outside Pierson House for lunch today, but only for about fifteen minutes.”

“I’d take fifteen seconds with you,” I whisper immediately.

“Then it is decided. I will see you at one o’clock. I’ll bring lunch.”

“Wonderful, I’ll look forward to conversing more then. Thank you for your call.”

“Bye, baby,” he says, and then he hangs up.

Somewhat distractedly I return to work, powering my way through the last of my large pile. Then I gather all the things I need to talk to Clemence about and I head for her office. I knock loudly.

“Ah, you’re back, Miss. Samuels,” she smiles at me and beckons me in. I remember what Logan told me: she likes me, she thinks I’m promising. My confidence soars.

“Yes,” I smile back, entering her office and heading for the desk.

“Feeling better?” she asks, a strange gleam in her eye.

“Much better, thank you.”

We sort through our business, and as she makes the executive decisions, I diligently and efficiently take mental notes. We reach our last piece to look through, which happens to be about an upcoming project involving Leary Constructions. I’m inclined to ask if it ended up on my desk deliberately, but I don’t.

“Ah, yes…I had a meeting with Mr. Leary yesterday, but he too was unwell, so I met with his second in command instead,” Amelie tells me.

“OK.”

“Apparently he’s been unwell for,” she counts on her fingers, “one, two, three days…”

“That’s, uh, a coincidence,” I flounder. Mayday! This ship is going down!

She peers up at me impassively, before suddenly declaring, “If it were me, I’d’ve taken a whole month off!”

I’m so busted! She
so
knows!

“Leave these with me, I’ll get them back to you. That will be all, Miss. Samuels,” she smiles to herself.

*

At one o’clock I practically skip out of the office to find Logan pulling up outside. He winks at me as he passes, pulling into a spot on the opposite verge. I cross the road, nearly walking into oncoming traffic because I’m so preoccupied looking at Logan, who notices and looks alarmed by my carelessness.

“Could you not get run over by a car, please!” he says, exasperatedly.

I smile at him. “I was distracted.” I reach up and take ahold of his face, kissing him fervently. I force his mouth open and moan gratefully when our tongues crush against each other. Our kiss is long and deep, making up for our morning separation. When we break apart we’re both breathless.

He grins at me, and I’m enamoured by his adorable dimples. I kiss them both.

“We might have to quit our jobs and spend our days as we have done,” I whisper.

I see his eyes glaze over as he’s momentarily carried away by that fantasy. “What a delicious thought,” he says.

“Speaking of delicious things, what did you bring me?” I eye the bag he’s holding.

“A cheese baguette.”

“How very French,” I smile. I take his hand and lead him to the pavement where we sit between two parked cars, out of sight of anyone. He hands me my baguette.

“How was your morning?” he asks me.

I grin as I say, “Hard, and long… Oh, no, wait, I’m thinking about something else… And I don’t mean this baguette.”

Logan’s mouth and eyes open in surprise and I giggle before taking a bite of my lunch. Mmm, it
is
delicious.

“Oh,” I suddenly remember something, “I have a bone to pick with you!”

His mouth and eyes widen again, and I laugh, realising how accidentally suggestive my sentence was.

“Do you want to me to take you right here on the street?” he asks.

“I’d better not answer that.”

He smiles. “What’s your bone, baby?”

“Your birthday,” I say.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a small party. It’s really not a big deal,” Logan tells me.

“Wait,
what
? You’re having a party?”

“Uh, yes, isn’t that what you’re talking about?” he asks.

“No, I’m talking about your birthday. Just your birthday. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t want you to think you had to get me something.”

“Of
course
I have to,” I say. “And what about this party? When is it?” I need to buy a new dress, is the first thought that comes to my mind.

“I, uh, don’t want you to come to that,” he says, cautiously.

Huh… I didn’t see that coming, I say to myself. I’m silent for a long moment, staring at him. My mind goes into overdrive.
Keep your cool, Gem
. Casually, I ask, “Why not?”

“Look, I know what you must be thinking:
what’s happening? We’re great together, he says he loves me, the sex is amazing, and now this
…”

“Well, yes, frankly!” I exclaim.

“It’s not so much a birthday party as a celebration of my achievements…like, a night in my honour. It’s going to be terrible, I’ve been dreading it for weeks, Gemima, and I don’t want you to have to listen to a whole evening of how accomplished I am,” he says, pulling a face when he says the word “accomplished”.

“Why on earth not?”

“It’s embarrassing!” he says, flushing a little. I melt completely. He’s nervous, that’s all.

“I would like to be there,” I say gently. “On your arm, as your girlfriend,” I paint him a picture I know he’ll like.

“I could introduce
you
as my greatest conquest.”

“Hmm, conquest suggests you had an uphill battle to attain me, and as I recall I was very willing.”

He leans over and kisses my cheek. “Very willing,” he whispers in my ear, “And wet.”

Desire surges through me. I look at him and he licks his lips unconsciously. I dart forward to kiss them quickly. Then we remain face to face, while Logan reminisces about my aroused sex. I do, too, remembering back to a week ago when he first touched me there. Ah, his expert hands worked magic!

A shiver runs through him. With his lips against mine, he says, “Best. Feeling. Ever.”

The sound of arousal in his voice is enough to make me convulse. I sigh, “It’s going to be a long afternoon.”

*

The minutes tick by slowly. Two. Three. Four o’clock. I get a lot of work done, despite my mind playing me vivid memories of my whirlwind last week. Logan’s naked form is rife among the images I see; and for audio, I most enjoy the sound of my name on his lips at his moment of release. I start a little when Layla suddenly appears by my desk, while I’m right in the middle of a flashback. I jump back to present time and feel my face redden.

“This just arrived for you,” she says, putting a large package on my desk, the wrapping of which is stamped with the blue font of my favourite online retailer.

I smile at Layla and the parcel. I’d forgotten about my shopping spree last Sunday! So many beautiful things await inside, it’s just a pity I’ll have no time to wear them, not now I’m with Logan. Logan-No-Clothes-Needed-Leary. Showing extreme restraint, I leave the box closed, thinking I’ll open it at Logan’s later. Maybe I’ll give him a little fashion show…

“Plans for the weekend?” Layla asks me.

“I’m spending it with my boyfriend,” I say, loud and proud.

I note her eyes widen slightly. But she smiles sincerely when she says, “Lucky garçon.”

“And you? What happened with the blind-date from last Friday?” I ask curiously.

“Ah, well,” she grabs a nearby office chair, and completely neglecting her post at reception, she sits and tells me animatedly, “it turns out that he dropped his phone down a drain on Saturday, so he
couldn’t
call me! He spent Sunday and Monday trying to recall my number, but he had no luck…and
then
,” she smiles broadly, “when I came to work on Tuesday morning he was
here
, waiting outside. He remembered me saying that I worked here, so he came to find me! Romantic, non?”

I grin at her. “Yes, very. So, things are going well?”

“Oui! I’m so happy!”

Aww!
Me
too
,
Layla
, I think.

“How is Logan Leary?” she asks.

“Magnificent,” I say before I can stop myself.

Layla nods, agreeing with me.

“What is your friend called?” I wonder.

“Patrick. Patrick O’Conner,” she smiles.

Oh,
shit
! Patrick O’Conner is Seamus’ younger brother; his philandering, womanising, man-about-town younger brother. Suddenly I fear for Layla’s heart. Patrick’s been known to break a few in his time, particularly the string of actresses from the low-budget indie flicks he stars in. Amber says the problem is that he’s
too
good at acting! He knows how to deliver a line. Then again it does sound like he’s gone to some effort to get in contact with Layla after losing his phone. Perhaps, like several people of late, he’s fallen, I think, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt for Layla’s sake.

“I, uh, I know him, actually,” I admit.

“Oh, oui?” she asks excitedly.

“He’s my best friends husband’s brother,” I say, having to think as I speak.

“So, you like him?” she assumes.

“He seems like…” I think of a suitable adjective, not wanting to give too much away, and settle for, “…fun.”

“Fun? Is that what I’m paying you two gossiping girls to have?” Amelie Clemence walks towards us, her arms folded. She’s stern, but not enraged. Thank god! “Layla,
who
is manning reception?”

“Moi,” Layla says, springing to her feet and disappearing back whence she came.

I give Amelie a small half-smile, and my mind takes this awkward moment to remind me about her affair with Buddy, and about Logan walking in on the pair of them. She holds such authority in this building, I can suddenly comprehend how being seen in such a vulnerable position would have made her feel quite powerless.

“
Another
present from Mr. Leary?” she scoffs, pointing at the large package on my desk.

“Uh, no, Amelie. I bought this one,” I say.

“Hmm, perhaps I pay you too much, Miss. Samuels?” she laughs to herself and then leaves for the day. She calls behind her, “Rest up for Monday, Gemima, I’ve a
lot
to get through! And I want
you
to help me!”

I gaze at the clock, willing it to move faster. It’s only four-twenty-five! Come on, time! I have important things to get to, I smile to myself, but time does not abide me. At four-forty Logan calls my mobile, and with the office quickly emptying for the day, I answer it in a much more relaxed manner than earlier.

“Hello, beau,” I say.

“Hello,” he says, his smile audible. “I’m at the hospital and I’m going to be done really soon, and I was wondering if you could get out of work early?”

I grin into my phone. “You sound as impatient as I feel,” I admit.

He laughs, “Yes, I am. Can I pick you up at five?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Rosita, Amelie’s PA, chooses this exact moment to walk passed my desk. She’s glances at me with an amused expression on her face. Oh, dear! She’s going to think I have a proclivity for swearing!

Logan chuckles. “Good. I gotta go now, they’re calling me, but I’ll see you very soon. Needles and nurses await me,” he teases.

“Alright. Make sure they give you a lollipop afterwards,” I remind him.

He laughs and the sound delights every part of me. I don’t think I’ve felt so impatient before in my life.

*

Twenty minutes later I leave my desk carrying the big parcel under one arm and my handbag in the other. I pause at reception to wish Layla a pleasant weekend.

“Say hi to Patrick from me. And tell him I said he needs to…behave himself,” I add, as casually as I can.

“Behave?” she asks. “What does that mean?”

“It means he needs to treat you well,” I smile at her. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Oui, enjoy, Gemima. Au revoir,” she waves me out.

On the street Logan’s black BMW is already waiting for me. As soon as he spots me, Logan steps out of the driver’s side and walks around the car to greet me. Despite the chill, he’s not wearing his suit jacket, and one of the sleeves on his crisp white shirt is folded up to the elbow, where there’s a plaster covering where his blood was extracted from. He glances briefly at the large box under my arm, but doesn’t enquire. Instead he takes my face in his hands and kisses me forcefully for a few long, beautiful moments.