The Temp (13 page)

27

Eve woke with a start.
Her hand clapped over her mouth. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter; it was going to be alright. They couldn’t hurt him. They wouldn’t. It wasn’t their motive. And deep down she knew she was wrong. They could and they would if they ever got their hands on that photo.

That photo.

Eve had cleared out her desk Friday evening, she hadn’t had much there. She’d taken what little she’d brought with her, except one thing. Eve grabbed her handbag from the front door, grasped for it in the blindfold dark. She picked the bag up and tucked herself back in bed, the warmth dissipating from the sheets. Her hands worked frantically, she felt around the bottom of the bag, making sure she hadn’t tucked it in by accident.
Please be there.

She searched and searched. Turned on the bedside lamp. Upended the bag. It wasn’t there.

It was the photo of Trisha and Jack. She’d had it at her desk; put it in one of the drawers. It was so utterly stupid thinking she could bring a photo to work, something so personal and traceable, to a place where she was being blackmailed. She was putting Jack and Trisha at risk just by associating with them, by having that photo of them. How stupid she’d been. Was.

What were the chances someone had already found it? Even if someone did, what were the chances they were part of her blackmail? If Trigger found it he wouldn’t give it to them, would he? No, not Trigger. He’d said there were others. Others. Probably watching her every move.

The photo had to be saved.

Eve rolled to the bedside table; it was 5 o’clock on a Monday morning. She groaned. She couldn’t go back to sleep, not with the threat haunting the air. Someone might come in to work and find it, even if she no longer worked there.

She threw back the duvet.

*

The metro was a sea of half-asleep bodies lulling under the fluorescent lights. Endless shadows and bags under eyes, Eve was the only one near enough awake. Her heart hammered all the way to the office building. Her key slid into the access panel. It was six o’clock by the time she arrived. She was high on adrenaline and cheap caffeine from an instant tin in the kitchen. The green light flashed and she went in. It was a relief her card still worked, given what had happened over the weekend, she’d agreed to be Roman’s.

Her fists bunched.
Don’t even go there!
After what had happened in the limousine she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Her heels clacked along the marble floors. Things were eerily calm, ghostly dead. The lights were off except one feint light from the security guard’s desk. He glanced up when she entered nodding her way and looked back down again.

Eve stumbled on, her hands shaking as she pressed the elevator button.
Keep it together.
Her mind had already done the unthinkable; she’d already gone there and seen what the worst was that could happen if she didn’t get the photo back.

Trisha. Jack.
No.
They’d get drawn into this. A mother and her son. If the blackmailers didn’t already see how important they were to Eve they would 

and   they’d   exploit   it.

She couldn’t let it come to that.

Her stomach jolted as the elevator rose, her ears popping feeling like she’d left her skin on the ground floor. This steel box was so much smaller with just her in it. How was it possible? She pressed her fingers to her temples.

Keep it together,
this wasn’t about her anymore.

The office floor was empty, its cubicles resembling an empty beehive in glowing white and grey. Half the lights were on in a feint buzz. Eve stepped out with such velocity sending her stomach nearly lurching out. She marched around the end aisle to the back office where she had her desk, where Roman’s was.

The last time she’d been here was only a few days ago, it wasn’t enough time for it to feel foreign again. She bared her teeth at the thought of that man. That jerk-the man hadn’t called her all weekend.

She deserved better than that, hell anyone did. She didn’t know much about men, if anything, it didn’t take a genius to know she’d been brushed aside without a second’s consideration. Her heels muffled on the carpeting, her fist clenched and unclenched around her handbag.

She wore an epic grey blazer, epically accurate to the grey under her eyes. She was washed out and like a wet dog she hadn’t dried her hair after her shower.

Her view cast to the tinted windows of Roman’s office, most of the time they were transparent glass, now they were as opaque as the night sky. It was odd yet it didn’t matter.

Eve stepped beyond the desk, her eyes to the office windows as if she could see through the opaqueness. She didn’t watch where she was going.

Until, she ran right into him.

“Eve,” Roman steadied her, gripping both arms to her sides. She had a sudden rush seeing him there, wet hair, fresh body wash scent. Her lungs deflated. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed”-

“No, you decided and I consented and then you left me, so here I am and mind your own business for once,” she snapped. She couldn’t help it; all that pent up rejection was making her head spin.

“This is my business. Why are you here so early?”

“What”-Eve couldn’t find the words. She had a moment of complete loss, what had she come here for again? Seeing him there, his gaze deep and searching, penetrating, she was naked beneath that stare. A clean shaven smell invaded her senses, a musk of body wash. His face swam before her like a dream. “Did you just come out of the shower?” Eve blurted out. “Here?”

He was dressed in dark suit pants and a blue and white striped shirt, the scent clung to him and his hair was damp, slicked back. She wanted badly to reach up and run her fingers through it, to ruffle his feathers like he’d ruffled hers.

“I stayed here last night,” Roman said, his eyes were open, paled as the fluorescents hit them. He was the beauty she remembered on the surface, drained eyes, and his skin bloodless. He looked vampiric now, sleep deprived.

“Why? Don’t you live close by?”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. Then he ran both hands through his hair, that bad, huh? Her expression softened, all the anger she wanted dissipating in a heartbeat.

“I had a lot to deal with, remember that emergency I told you about. It took all weekend.” Eve bit her lip, he hadn’t really told her anything about it, except that it was an emergency. She was meant to be angry at him not falling into his arms for god’s sake. She took a step to the side.

“Eve,” his eyes searched her, beseeching her. 

“I left the key to my bike lock and I have to get it,” she lied. What else could she say? And why did every new lie become easier to tell? She nodded beyond him and sidestepped to the desk a few paces away and started opening drawers aware of the man watching her with his towel wet hair.

“I didn’t know you had a bike,” his words were hollow.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Eve glanced up.

“Evidently. I’ll give you some privacy,” Roman turned. She hissed out a breath, he didn’t fight her on returning to work, even if she wanted him to, deep down.

She returned her mind to the task at hand, drawer after drawer she searched, her mind racing. She gripped the desk, it wasn’t there. The copy room. She’d been there several times in the last week; perhaps she’d taken it in there. Fat chance, though she couldn’t be sure.  Eve crumpled into her chair, her arms collapsing at their sides. 

“Did you find it?” Roman leaned against a cubicle wall.

She wasn’t listening as she rose and stormed off down the aisle.

Damn Roman and his distracting body.
She couldn’t think like this.

The copy room lights were off. The skeleton machines were sinister and cold in the darkness. This space was empty, clean and clinical. There was no way she’d left it in here. Her chest heaved like she was breathing for dear life. How could she loose it? How could she have been so stupid? The tears cascaded down her cheeks, she hardly acknowledged them. As the lights switched on she was aware of the sound of footsteps on muffled carpet behind her.

“Eve, about the weekend.”

“Shut up,” Eve turned and pressed her lips to his. In that moment there was nothing except her and him. Her and him. Anything to stop him from giving her a pathetic excuse as to why he hadn’t called. Anything. She no longer cared. He was a job. Nothing more. Her lips urged on and soon Eve legs lifted under his hands and straddled him.

His hands tugged on her for more, her butt landing on the copy machine. She inhaled him like the drowning woman she was. She needed this. She needed him and the distraction from her failure. Her neck tilted back as his lips buried deep in her curve. His hands hugged her hips massaging down her thighs. Forceful and tender.

For a second Eve was saved from his clawing hands knowing her stockings would prevent things from going any further. A second. She hadn’t taken into account the running at the top of her stockings or his resourcefulness. His deft fingers found the slit and yanked the hole wide, allowing his hand in to explore her skin.

Eve sucked in a breath at the touch of him on her bare flesh. His head buried in her neck drawing her in, trailing kisses down sparking electric pulses all the way down to her thighs. He lifted her skirt and sheared the hole expanding it across her leg, cupping up to the middle where her thigh ended and her division began. Her back arched against his hand. Roman retrieved his hands from the entrance of the fabric, her spot, her Sex. His eyes found hers in the bare light and for a moment she thought he would stop. Both his hands moved under her skirt, millimetres from her entrance. There was a violent tearing sound and then his hands had her other leg. He had it all now, access to wherever he wanted.
Oh my!

His fingers pressed against the silk of her panties, the fabric the one and only thing between them.

It didn’t stop his hand.

Suddenly a light beamed from beneath them and the photocopier came to life. Printing and producing. Printing and producing. The rhythmic whir in time to their pants. Eve’s heart caught in her throat. Surely he’d stop. Surely.

Roman’s eyes said otherwise, regardless of the machine. His fingers parted the silken fabric and she gasped gripping his shoulders as he entered her. “You’re so wet,” he mused and she could hear his sphinx like smile.

Eve moaned. She wished she had a better response, she couldn’t think, hardly wanted to as his fingers travelled inside her, dipping in. “I want you.” This sent shiver after shiver spasming all the way down to her Sex. “Come for me Eve,” he hissed in her ear igniting everything right down to the touch at his fingertips. It sparked like an electric current coursing through their connection.

Eve let out a cry muffled by the furious machine working away as he worked away. She gripped his back for dear life, her fingernails digging in. His rhythm built to the sounds of paper after paper running out of the copier. First he was slow and purposeful and gradually the pace matched her escalating heartbeat.

Eve was rising like a phoenix. She’d never felt like this before, so strong and weak at the same time, never understood the appeal, until now. It was heaven inside her.

“That’s it baby, don’t fight it. Let it happen. Let yourself go.” She pressed harder, on the edge of his whim. Eve moaned and arched like a cat against his palm, his hand holding her in place. “Baby,” he moaned in her ear.

The machine finally stilled.

That’s when she heard the voices.

Her pupils dilated, she turned to him.

His jaw set, his mouth parted breathing out hot air against her lips. His hand was still beneath her, two fingers inside her the others cupping her entrance. His free arm closed around her waist and lifted her up against him.

Eve straddled him with her arms and legs.

He pushed from beneath her entrance, eliciting another gasp. She was lifted off the machine. Her hands clung around him gripping him to her, his hand in place inside her, wet around the sides. A constant warmth there. They made it to the storage room in time as the voices entered the copy room.
Oh no!

Eve was pressed against the wall, the margin in the door letting in a slither of light to the room they’d vacated. Both Eve and Rome watched as two women entered the copy room. What were they doing here so early?

“I’m telling you we store the binders in here,” it was Barb. She was one of the few women who worked on the same floor as Eve, who was tolerable.

Eve’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t concentrate. There was a hand working to get inside her and people in the next room unawares. Roman’s hand began its motions again.

“What are you doing?” she mouthed. She could feel his motions waning on her.

“Making you come again,” he breathed in her ear.

“Did you hear something?” Barb said.

“No,” said the other voice. The other voice was feminine though Eve couldn’t guess who it was. She could hardly think with a hand inside her and two women right outside the door and at six in the morning? Eve didn’t know if it was odd, given she always arrived closer to eight. She heard the rummaging around, the tension seething in her mind. She knew exactly where the binders were, they were in the storage room, behind them, probably next to where her back was pressed.