The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights: 6 Book Romance Collection. Zara Stoneley
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are crazy, unwelcome thoughts.
‘Sorry,’ my mouth is suddenly so dry I worry my lips will stick to my teeth, ‘my mistake.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Grabbing the spare end of the belt with a sure hand, Alex tightens it slowly and smoothly. The practical action is so erotic it’s ridiculous. Frozen to the seat, I’m ultra-aware of his broad shoulders and how close he is. I inhale his crisp, sexy aftershave; hear the even sound of his breathing; notice the tiny lines at the corner of his blue eyes, which add an extra zing of charisma. Skin fizzing, my nipples peak again and I gulp. Hard.
All the reasons for staying professional are forgotten. I want to lean forward, drive my hands into that thick, dark hair and kiss him, nibble on that biteable lower lip and get lost in the sensation of his tanned, confident hands all over me.
‘No problem,’ he says, with a funny twisted smile, breaking the spell, standing to take the chair opposite.
‘Huh?’ I blink, dazed. Why does he look so annoyed? What was all that about?
As the plane lifts off, I stare at the carpet, my body humming along with the vibration of the aircraft. My emotions feel as tangled as the Christmas lights Jess and I recently bundled up and shoved away in the hallway cupboard.
I’m attracted to a man I can’t have.
It’s that complicated and that simple.
As soon as the seatbelt signs ping off, Alex wordlessly moves across the cabin. Sliding a slimline laptop from his briefcase, he’s soon fascinated by whatever is on it, but his focus is so fixed it feels like he’s freezing me out deliberately. Is he angry because after what he said in the car about female employees and my reassurances he picked up my physical reaction to him? Awkward.
Fanning my face, I catch the eye of the pretty, blonde cabin attendant. ‘Can I have some water please?’
‘Of course, Madam.’ She smiles politely.
Moments later she places a sparkling water in front of me, complete with perfectly squared ice cubes and a succulent slice of lemon. I hold the glass to the light, half expecting it to be encrusted with diamonds, or the water to be flecked with gold. I flush as I catch her watching me quizzically, before she edges away like I’m a mad woman.
Gulping back some water, my thoughts flow toward Alex again. It’s strange, playing it cool with men has never been a challenge. Perhaps because until now they’ve only ever provoked lukewarm reactions, as opposed to scorching-hot ones?
Alex is still frowning at his laptop when I look over. Admiring his long muscular frame, thick dark hair and gorgeous face, lust packs me a punch and I feel like I’ve been knocked out by a world heavyweight. What is it about him? I’ve known plenty of fit guys, men who are handsome and charming. I even had a brief thing with a wealthy banker; not my usual type at all. He was really attentive, lavishing me with luxury gifts and treating me to expensive meals, but when I wouldn’t sleep with him on our fourth date he backed off. To be honest, I was glad not to have to dodge his calls.
Alex is more than good looks and wealth, though. He has a confidence and complexity which make me gravitate towards him like the moon to the Earth, even though his ideas about women should repel me..
I have to put distance between us.
Shame it didn’t work with my assistant, who I was definitely not interested in. Cringing, I rest my head against the padded seat, mind zipping back to the time that work went from good to ugly without stopping at bad.
Then
My manager John was supportive and lovely, with years of experience that I learnt a lot from. The last of the old-fashioned gentlemen, he and his wife doted on their four grandchildren, even with his late shifts, and I loved listening to his stories about their youngest granddaughter’s quest for a full working monkey tail. He made coming to work a pleasure and everyone was sad when he retired early.
‘I’ll be leaving in three months’ time,’ he sank into the chair behind his desk, ‘and I think you should apply for my job.’
‘You do?’ I dropped into the chair opposite. ‘I’ve only been your PA for fifteen months.’
He smiled at me, adjusting one of the photos on his desk by a millimetre. ‘I’ve been part of your journey from casual bar staff to temporary front-of-house receptionist to supervising the whole customer-care team. You had some of the best sales when you worked on the floor – the customers love you – and your local marketing campaigns were very innovative. You were appointed PA because I’ve watched you grow passionate about the casino and thought your manner and organisational skills were exceptional.’
‘Thanks.’ I smiled, warmed by his praise.
‘I’m just calling it as I see it and in the last year you’ve only improved. You’ve got a knack for finances and the customer and are a capable young woman.’ He picked up his trademark silver fountain pen, placing it in the pot on his desk. ‘Which is why I campaigned so hard for the company to fund the business admin course.’
‘Yes, and I’ve really appreciated the support, the way you’ve let me interview colleagues, and have extra days off, or swap shifts.’
‘I know you’ve appreciated it.’ He sat further forward. ‘It’s been obvious in your dedication and energy.’
‘I’m glad,’ I smiled, tapping my Biro against my notepad. ‘And you know I value your opinion.’ I hesitated. ‘I am interested, but I’m worried it might be too soon.’
‘Nonsense.’ He waved a hand as if swatting away a hyperactive fly. ‘I have complete confidence in you. You know the job better than anyone, and you’ve seen me doing it up close and personal for long enough.’ He was right. Part of the reason for becoming his PA was to understand what it took to be a manager. ‘I think you’ve got the skills for it,’ he continued. ‘You just need to believe in yourself. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.’
I hid a smile. He always came out with clichés. They were part of his charm and impossible not to inadvertently copy. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll give it some serious thought and let you know what I decide.’
Discussing the idea of applying with Jess, who’d replied with a heartening, ‘Go for it!’ I was stunned to be offered the job after a demanding recruitment process. My team leadership experience was limited and I was certain there were better-qualified candidates but John’s reference and the policy of internal progression meant I was given the chance to prove myself. For the first eighteen months I did, and it was fantastic. Mandy, the assistant I recruited directly from the reception team, was lovely. She was eager to please and efficient and we got on well. Then she went on maternity leave and decided not to return and I got handed Tony Ferrier as part of an internal transfer I never got to the bottom of.
In his mid-twenties, broad–shouldered, squat and slightly pinkish, he reminded me of an ex-public school boy, swaggering around the place from the beginning. But he was polite enough, did his work with a minimum of fuss and didn’t create any drama, so I didn’t think I had reason to worry. At first we got on okay and shared a few jokes.
One Monday I came into the office and frowned, studying him. ‘You look a bit green Tony. Are you all right to be here?’
‘Yes,’ he smiled looking sickly, his normally pink cheeks pale. ‘I’ve been on a stag weekend. The after-effects are getting to me, that’s all.’
‘Right. Well, take it easy, drink plenty of water,’ I disappeared into my office and came back out, handing him a pack of tablets and can of energy drink, ‘and make use of these.’
‘Thanks.’ Taking them from me gratefully: ‘Do you suffer with hangovers often then?’
‘No. I keep a stock of stuff hanging around for staff. It comes from most of them working into the early hours. It’s hard for them to fall asleep when they finish, they’re still