Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
‘I’m not interested.’
‘Ha! You keep telling yourself that.’
I scowl across the table at my best friend. ‘I will.’
‘Let me know how that works out for you.’ she shoots back, rather flippantly.
***
I return to the office and spend the rest of the day achieving absolutely nothing. I twiddle my pen, visit the toilet a dozen times and pretend to listen to Tom harp on about Gay Pride and all things camp. My phone has rung four times – all Jesse Ward – and I’ve rejected each and every call. I’m staggered by this man’s persistence and confidence.
How loud?
I’m stunned!
I’m happy and enjoying my new found freedom, and I have no intention of derailing my plans to be single and carefree. I’m not getting caught up with a handsome stranger, no matter how handsome he is. And oh, is he mind meltingly delicious. Anyway, he’s way too old for me. And more importantly, he’s obviously taken. And that only reinforces the fact that he’s an ultimate player. This is not the sort of man I need to be attracted to, damn me, especially after Matt and his infidelities. I need a man, eventually, who’ll be faithful, protective and look after me – preferably a bit nearer my age too. How old is he?
My phone declares a text, making me jump and snapping me from my wandering thoughts. I already know who it is before I look.
Being rejected isn’t very nice. Why won’t you answer my calls? Jx
I laugh to myself, drawing the attention of Victoria, who’s rummaging through the filing cabinet near my desk. Her perfectly plucked eyebrow arches. I don’t suppose he is use to rejection. ‘Kate.’ I offer, by way of an explanation. It seems to work, as she returns to sifting through the cabinet.
It should be obvious why I’m not answering my bloody phone. I don’t want to talk to him. He unnerves me, triggering too many reactions. And, quite frankly, I don’t trust my body around him. It seems to respond to his presence with no prompt from me or my brain, and that could be very dangerous indeed.
My phone rings again and I quickly reject it. Christ, give me a chance to reply! Am I even going to reply? I’m never going to get rid of him. I need to be brutal.
If you need to discuss your requirements, you should be calling Patrick, not me.
There. No sign off and definitely no kiss. I’ve not said in so many words, but he should get the message. I put my phone down, all set on getting something done, but it chimes again. I pick it straight back up, grabbing my coffee with my spare hand as I do.
My requirement is to make you scream. I don’t think Patrick can help me there. I’m gagging just thinking about it. That’s a thought...will I need to gag you? Jx
I spray coffee all over my desk as I cough. The cheeky sod! How brazen and unashamed can a man be? Does he think I’m easy or something? I switch my phone to silent, chucking it down on my desk in disgust. I’m not even dignifying that with a response. Replying will only encourage him. There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and Jesse Ward triple jumps that. I feel sorry for old pouty lips. Is she aware of her man pursuing young women?
I watch as my screen lights up again. I snatch it up, silencing it before it draws attention. I open my top drawer, drop it in and slam it shut on a huff. He’ll get the message.
I make a meager attempt to carry on with some work, but I’m far too distracted. Strange words – all having no place in work related correspondence – are appearing in my emails as I absentmindedly tap away at my keyboard. The office phone rings.
Glancing up, I see Sally away from her desk, so I answer. ‘Good afternoon, Rococo Union.’
‘Don’t hang up!’ he blurts down the phone. I sit up straight in my chair. Even his urgent voice prickles my skin. Get the message, he will not. He’s really quite thick skinned. ‘Ava, I’m really very sorry.’
‘You are?’ I can’t hide the surprise in my voice. Jesse Ward doesn’t look like the kind of man to offer apologies willy-nilly.
‘Yes, really, I am. I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. I’ve overstepped the mark by a long shot.’ He sounds sincere enough. ‘I’ve distressed you. Please accept my apology.’
I wouldn’t say I was distressed by his bold behavior and comments. Shocked would be more apt. Some people might even admire his confidence, I suppose. ‘Oh, okay,’ I say hesitantly. ‘So, you don’t want to make me scream or gag me?’
‘Ava, you sound disappointed.’
‘Not at all,’ I blurt.
There’s a brief silence before he speaks again. ‘Can we start again? I’ll keep it professional, of course.’