Devon looks at Tom—specifically at Tom’s hand which is covering my own—and then at me.
“Devon, what are you doing here?”
As Tom looks up, Devon glares at him and his hand again. Getting the hint, Tom removes his hand and sits back. Devon looks back at me.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your meal, but I have an emergency.”
I frown. “What is it?”
“Aaron Sutherland’s requesting the copy of my CV as well as the acquisition letter I asked you to draft up for me earlier today.”
I briefly look at Tom before glancing back up at Devon. I can’t believe he’s interrupted my date for this. He knows my computer password and can easily access whatever he needs himself. “You have the password to my computer, so—”
“I’m not sure where everything is on your computer. It would just be easier if you came with me. I have a car outside. I will take you to the office and then have my driver take you home.”
I motion to our meals. “But we’re still eating.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would crop up. You know how important this deal is, Andi. I need you there.” When I sigh, he says, “Listen, I will pay for your meals. I know this is an inconvenience, but I wouldn’t ask unless I really needed you.”
I feel like pointing out that he’s contradicting himself because, according to him, I’m normally fucking useless or just downright incompetent.
I look at Tom apologetically before looking back up at Devon. “Can you give me a minute, please?”
Devon nods. “Sure. One minute.” He places a couple fifty pound notes on the table. “I’ll be waiting in the car.” He storms off.
“I’m so sorry about this,” I say to Tom.
He smiles. “That’s okay. He seems a bit—”
“Stuck up? Rude? Blunt?”
Tom chuckles. “I was going to say uptight, but those will do as well.”
Closing my eyes, I sigh. “I really am sorry.”
“Stop apologising. It’s not your fault. You had no idea this was going to happen. You go do what you need to. Maybe we can try this again some other time.”
“That would be nice. Shall I give you a call?”
He nods, and a smile lights up his face. “I would like that.”
I grab my things, stand, and then walk around the table to place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for dinner.”
Tom lifts his fork. “You should be thanking your boss. He paid for it.” He laughs as I shake my head.
“Speak soon,” I say as I start walking toward the exit.
When I get outside, Ian, Devon’s driver, quickly opens the door for me. “Miss Bellingham.”
I smile. “Thank you, Ian.” Once inside, I look across at Devon. He stares at my legs for a second before meeting my eyes.
“You two seemed … cosy. How long have you known him?”
I want to tell him it’s none of his business, but I bite my tongue. “He’s a doctor at the local hospital and gets coffee at the same place I get yours. We bump into each other a lot, so we started talking.”
“So you just went out and held hands with a virtual stranger? I thought you knew better than that.”
I feel my anger rise at his scrutiny. “He isn’t a virtual stranger. We’ve been talking off and on for the last six months.”
He laughs. “It took him six months to ask you out? What a fucking chump.”
I give him an angry glare. “He’s not a chump. He’s a gentleman. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I can be a gentleman, but the girl I’m with has to act—” he says, pausing to look at my dress, “and look like a lady.”
I grit my teeth. I know full well what he’s insinuating. He’s always been very clear about what I should wear around him. That’s why I like to let loose when I’m not in his presence.
I want so much to bite back, but I’m not going to rise to his level. I refuse to. Instead, I turn my head and stare out at the pedestrians going about their business. No matter what time, day or night, London is always busy—especially the centre of the city. It’s getting to be more and more like New York. “The City That Never Sleeps.” Thinking about New York brings a smile to my face. My anger fades as I picture myself walking around Central Park, visiting the Statue of Liberty, and going up the Empire State Building. I’ve seen it in so many romantic films and TV shows, and it’s always fascinated me. I guess I’m a bit of a romantic because I always pictured myself going up there with the one I love. I won’t miss the opportunity, though. If it presents itself, I’m going … even if it is alone.
After about twenty minutes, Ian pulls up to the entrance of the building, gets out, and opens the door. Without a word, Devon steps out and waits for me to follow. As I slide over, Ian offers me his hand. I take it, smiling up at him.
“Thank you, Ian.”
He smiles back. “You’re welcome, Miss Bellingham.”
Devon looks at us, gritting his teeth. “Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day. Mr Sutherland is waiting.” My face drops. He looks at Ian. “Wait here. We should be done in about twenty minutes, and then we will take Andi home.”
Ian nods. I follow behind Devon as he saunters toward the building. He swipes his card at the entrance, unlocking the door. In the reception area, we’re greeted by Carl, one of the security guards. Even though he’s in his late fifties, he flirts with me something silly. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s happily married to his wife of twenty-six years. Last year, they celebrated back home in Jamaica. He still has family there and hadn’t visited in a few years. It made me smile when he told me stories of when he used to go crabbing with his brothers as a little boy.
“Mr Jackson,” Carl says, “Miss Bellingham, you look simply beautiful this evening.” He gives me a cheeky grin as I pass.
“Good evening, Carl, and thank you.” I offer him the same cheeky grin as he gives me a wink.
With a jab of his finger, Devon punches the button for the lift. When the doors don’t open right away, he starts jabbing repeatedly. Just as I’m about to tell him it won’t go any faster just because he’s angrily pressing the button, the doors open.
Devon motions me in, then follows, hitting the button for the eighth floor. You can see a lot from the eighth floor, but it’s much better when you get to the roof. From there, the London Eye, The Shard, and the Palace of Westminster are all visible. On a clear day, you can see Tower Bridge spanning over the River Thames. There was one time I had to work late and Devon ordered Chinese food. He ate in his office, so I decided to venture up to the roof. It was cold, but worth the view. The lights of London are spectacular at night.
A repetitive tapping noise makes me look over, and I see Devon impatiently tapping his foot. He checks his ten thousand pound Rolex, making me check my one hundred pound Seksy I bought from Argos for my last birthday. It’s half-past nine.
“Nearly your bedtime?”
I snap my head up to find Devon watching me. “No. I saw you checking the time, so I was curious to know what it was. That’s all.”
The doors ping and open. Devon walks through. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back for your cup of cocoa in your fluffy jim jams in no time.” He doesn’t turn, so I flip him the bird behind his back. He’s such an arrogant prick.
As I follow behind him, I wince with every step. My feet are still killing me. When Devon opens the door, he turns and notices me struggling. His lips curve up into that cocky, stupid grin of his.
“Having trouble walking now? Did your parents not teach you that when you were a baby?”
I roll my eyes. “No. Tom and I walked to the restaurant, but these shoes are obviously not meant for walking.”
He starts laughing. “So the big doctor man doesn’t have a car, and is not even gentlemanly enough to hire a taxi for your date?” He laughs again. “Fuck me. I’ve seen it all now. What kind of wimpy delinquents are people raising these days? I bet he had to order a certain meal because he has allergies or something.” I can’t help but smile at his comment. His mouth drops open. “Fucking hell. I’m right, aren’t I?”
I try not to laugh. “No! He’s a vegetarian, so he would only eat lentils.”
“Lentils?!” he screeches. “What a fucking tosser.” Shaking his head, he laughs as we walk farther. With each step, I feel like my feet are on fire.
Once in the office, I quickly walk to my computer and fire it up. Devon stands behind me, which is unnerving. When I open the folder to the file I need, he leans over my shoulder to look. He’s so close I can smell him. I hate to admit it, but he smells really good.
“That’s the one. Attach that and my CV to an email and send it over to me. I’ll do the rest.”
I do as instructed and hit SEND, then turn to find him still lurking over my shoulder. “Done,” I say, swallowing hard.
He says thanks, which surprises me because although I know he doesn’t really mean it, the word never leaves his lips for any reason. Our eyes lock, and I could swear there’s a spark of electricity between us … but, just like his sense of appreciation, it doesn’t last long. Before I know it, a snarl crosses his face as he straightens. Momentarily, I look away. When I glance back, I see him typing something on his phone.
Once he’s finished, he looks back at me. “You can shut down your computer and I’ll take you home. I’ll be waiting outside.” Without another word, he walks out the door.
I shake my head in annoyance before powering down. When the screen goes dark, I grab my bag, get up, and walk out to find Devon on the phone.
“Yeah, I’ll be over in a half-hour. I just have to take my assistant home.” He punches the button for the lift before saying, “No, I’d never go there, so stop bringing it up.” He looks at me. “Just be ready for me.” He smirks. “Don’t you worry. I have a lot to get off my chest.”
I purse my lips as the lift doors open. It’s obvious what he’s talking about, but I’m confused by his comment. It makes me wonder if he’s talking about me. Am I so hideous that even the thought of me disgusts him?
As I walk into the lift, he says, “Listen, I have to go. See you soon.”
Ending the call, he steps through and presses the ground floor button. He doesn’t say anything as we descend, so I also keep my mouth shut. I just want to get out of here, but the lift seems to take forever. I keep my eyes trained on the numbers as they slowly go down from eight to zero. I don’t look at Devon, but every part of my body can sense him. He’s completely oblivious to me, and yet, if I close my eyes, I can picture the way the lights in the lift bounce off his neat goatee stubble and the way his eyes shine when he smiles at something on his phone. No matter how badly he treats me, I can’t stop myself from wanting him with a passion so great it has a tight grip on my heart.
With my eyes locked on the numbers, I may not be able to see him, but I know what he’s doing. He’s either busy doing something on his phone or pretending that he is, so he doesn’t have to talk to me. I don’t know why he can’t just be civil. Maybe I’ll ask him someday, but for now, I keep the words bottled up along with a million other things I wish I could say to him. Ritchie keeps telling me to bite the bullet and just say what’s on my mind once and for all. I have to constantly remind myself that doing so could cost me my job. I’m the best paid PA in London. I know it. Devon knows it. If I speak out of line, I could get fired. No matter how much I want to stick it to him, I keep my mouth shut, so I can continue to get paid and help my father with the debt of our family home. Without the extra income my mother brought in, my father struggles. I didn’t realise how much until I went over for a visit one day and found my father passed out—a drink and a mass of overdue bills on the table. It broke me to see him that way. I had already lost my mother, and I would fight to the death before I lost my father, too. Once I sobered him up, he begged me not to say anything to Charlie. We argued and then cried, but the one thing on the forefront of our minds was losing the home which held so many memories.
“I can still hear her,” he’d said. “She’s singing in the kitchen as she cooks me my favourite meal or whispering softly as she tells you a bedtime story.”
Not wanting those memories to disappear, I set up a standing order to send money to my father each month. It’s not a huge amount, but it’s enough to keep the roof over his head. In return, he insisted on putting my name down on the mortgage and began paying for life insurance. Despite my initial discomfort, I’m glad I walked in on him when I did. Otherwise, things would probably be a lot worse by now.
Once on the ground floor, I breathe a sigh of relief and eagerly step through when the doors open. Carl smiles at me again. “How’s Edith?” I ask. Last week, Carl told me his wife was suffering from allergies.
“She’s much better, thank you. She’s not sneezing half as much as she was.”
“That’s good,” I say as I walk past.
“You have a good evening now.” Carl tips his hat.
“You, too, Carl.”
Devon and I walk out to see Ian holding the door open for us. I climb into the car, and Devon quickly follows.
“To Miss Bellingham’s residence?” Ian asks once he’s behind the wheel.
“Yes,” Devon responds. “Then you can take me over to Miss Crawford’s.”
“Very well,” Ian responds before driving off.
As the car starts moving, I sit and wonder why Devon feels the need to rub his conquests in my face. Miss Crawford is a stuck-up catwalk model who lives off of coffee and cigarettes. She doesn’t like me very much, and the feeling is mutual. I’m not sure why she feels like I’m a threat. I haven’t done anything to her, yet she treats me like shit.
“Is Ritchie home tonight?”
Snapping my head to Devon, I catch his stare. For a moment, I see his eyes trailing toward my cleavage and then back up again. I can tell what he’s thinking … I look like a slut.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
He sucks in a breath before looking out his window. “Just wondering. I thought he was dating that hot ballerina.”
I almost roll my eyes. “He is, but she’s performing tonight, so they won’t see each other until tomorrow.” I frown, wondering why he’s so keen on knowing about Ritchie’s love life.
“I bet he has fun with her,” he says under his breath, still staring out the window. I huff out a sarcastic laugh, making Devon snap his head toward me. “What was that?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad my brother’s back. It was a nice surprise to see him today.” For the first time tonight, I see a genuine smile on his face.
“It was. I’m actually going out with him tomorrow night.”
I frown. “Me, too.”
Devon’s face falls as if the news irritates him. “But he’s meeting his army friends.”
Feeling the need to get back at him, I smirk. “I know, and I’m really looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to meet his friends.”
The look on Devon’s face is priceless. Maybe he’ll cancel now.
“Charlie is really going soft. Are you sure it was definitely him who returned from Germany? Maybe this bug he had messed with his head.” He shakes his own at the thought.
I want to tell him he’s being a dick, but I keep my mouth shut. If he does come tomorrow night, I’ll just have to keep as much distance between us as possible.
Thankfully, Ian comes to a halt outside my house. I’m about to get out when Devon grabs my arm.
“For your inconvenience tonight, you can come in an hour later tomorrow. I will be in meetings until eleven anyway. Just don’t forget my usual.”
I know exactly what he’s talking about. That’s why I’ve given him the nickname “Mr Condom.”
“Yes, sir,” I say with a hint of sarcasm.
“See you tomorrow. Oh, and Andi?” he asks as I stand there, holding the door. I lean over so I can see him. He briefly looks down to my cleavage again before looking back up to my eyes. “There’s no need to thank me for rescuing you tonight. It was my pleasure.” He starts laughing. “You can close the door now.”
Fucking arsehole.
I slam the door behind me and watch as the car speeds off. All the while, I think of how many ways I can torture him and get away with it.
I look up to my apartment. The lights are on, so I know Ritchie is home, probably dying to know how my date went. Thinking of Tom, I check my phone to see if he’s messaged. All I see is one from my father reminding me about Sunday dinner. I visit him as often as possible, usually making him a nice meal. Charlie will be there, so this Sunday will be extra special. I smile at the thought, and just like that, all thoughts of Mr Condom-Arsehole are gone.
I start to walk toward the door, my feet screaming. I lean on a nearby tree and slip off my shoes. I only have to walk up a few steps, but I think I’ll need foot surgery if I put my feet through any more torture tonight.
Once they’re off, the relief I feel is tremendous. As I lean my head back, I close my eyes on a sigh. It’s the best feeling in the world. I roll my shoulders and push away from the tree, proceeding up the stairs. Once at my door, I dig around in my bag for the keys and let myself in. Ritchie is sitting on the sofa watching The Walking Dead. He’s so engrossed in a scene, he fails to notice me. I can’t help myself. With a great, big mischievous grin, I slam the door as hard as I can. Squealing, Ritchie jumps. Popcorn flies out of his hand and lands all over him and the sofa. When he realises it’s me, I get the death stare.
“Fucking hell, Andi. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!” I almost go into a full belly laugh as I drop my bag and shoes on the floor. “It’s not fucking funny. I could have seriously died of fright.”
Walking toward the sofa, I pout as I sit down next to him. “Aww, diddums.” I grab some popcorn off his lap and eat it. “I keep telling you not to watch this show late at night. It gives you nightmares.”
Trying to scoop as much of the popcorn as he can back into the bowl, he shakes his head. “You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?”
I laugh. “And you’re a fucking knobhead, so I guess we’re both fucked.”
He gives me a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re hot or you’d be down on your arse by now.”
“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” I say around a mouthful of popcorn.
He looks at his watch with a frown. “You’re back early. What happened? Did your date not go well?”
As I settle back into the sofa, I huff. “Devon happened.”
Confused, he places the popcorn on the table. “What do you mean?”
“Devon turned up at the restaurant as Tom and I were in the middle of eating. He demanded I come back to the office because he needed his CV and a certain letter to be sent to these new hotshots in the States he’s trying to impress.”
I can tell by the look on Ritchie’s face that he’s not impressed. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
I shake my head. “I wish I were.”
He grabs a handful of popcorn before turning back to me. “When are you going to tell him to stick it, Andi? He’s nothing but an ungrateful eejit.”
I look down for a moment. “You know I can’t. I won’t be able to earn anywhere near what I’m earning now anyplace else. Without it, my dad will go under. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened.”
“Yes, but at what cost? Do you think your dad would want you to carry on working for that arsehole if he knew how he treated you?” He knows I know the answer to that, but I don’t answer. Instead, he motions me closer. “Come here. Have a little cuddle with Cousin Ritchie and help him through this bloody episode of TWD.”
I smile, grabbing the popcorn before snuggling myself under Ritchie's arm. “Hungry?” he asks, watching me stuff popcorn into my mouth.
“Bloody starving,” I answer. “I only got to eat a few bites of my dinner.”
He manoeuvres me away and then stands and points to the kitchen. “I ordered pizza earlier. There are still a couple slices left.”
The thought has my stomach growling. “Ritchie, you’re a lifesaver.”