Harrison

The conference ends at four thirty, and it takes another thirty minutes of discussion before everyone finally leaves the room and heads for the elevators.

I collapse into a chair, and Seb, Caleb, and Elen, the other directors of Hearktech, do the same.

“That was a long day,” Elen says, “and it’s only five p.m.”

“Good though,” Seb replies. “It went well, don’t you think?”

We chat for another fifteen minutes, glad for the time to relax. While we’re having one last cup of coffee, Colette comes in and tidies up the table, collecting the unused documents and folders, and putting everything else in the trash.

Eventually, Seb rises, stretches and yawns. “I’ll just nip back to the office and then we’ll head home, shall we?” he asks Colette.

“Sure.” She smiles, and he kisses her on the cheek, then leaves. Elen gathers her stuff and follows soon after.

I finish sending an email on my laptop, then close it before realizing with some surprise that Colette’s still in the room, perching on the table.

“Sorry,” I tell her. “Didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”

Her blue eyes dance. “I understand you asked Gaby out for a drink.”

I give her a wry look. “Girl talk? Did she also tell you she turned me down?”

“Yeah, about that. She’s had second thoughts.”

I grin, and my spirits lift. “I hoped she might.”

“Can I tell her you’ll meet her at Atomic at, say, seven thirty?”

“Sounds great.”

“Okay.” She hesitates. “One more thing. And she doesn’t know I’m about to tell you this.”

“All right…”

“She’s a bit nervous.”

“Aw. Did you tell her I’m a pussycat?”

“I did, as it happens. But it’s not just that. You know I said she’d just broken up with her boyfriend.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s been going out with him since she was sixteen.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize people still did that.”

“Me neither. So you see, the thing is, she’s only been with the one guy.”

I stare at her. For a girl in her mid-twenties, that’s almost as unusual as being a virgin, in the circles I mix in, anyway.

“I think you can see what I’m getting at,” Colette says. “It doesn’t sound as if her ex was dynamite in bed, so you’ll have to, you know, show her the ropes.”

“Hmm.”

She grins. “I told her the idea would turn you on.”

“Did you, now?”

“Just be gentle with her, Harry. If you like her, take it slow, all right? Or she’s likely to run a mile and you won’t see her for dust.”

“Okay,” I say softly.

Her teeth tug on her bottom lip, and for a moment I think I see a touch of a blush in her cheeks. Colette Holmes, blushing! I raise my eyebrows.

“I hope you didn’t mind me saying,” she says. “It’s just… I like Gaby. She’s nice, and she’s had a tough time. She deserves better.” Her eyes twinkle. “But I could only find you, so you’ll have to do.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She laughs and walks to the door. “So, seven thirty?”

“That’s fine.”

She nods and walks out.

I put my feet up on the table, ankles crossed, and think about what she’s just told me. It’s not what I expected. After we both stated that we weren’t looking for anything long-term, I suggested having a drink to Gabriella with the idea that we chat over a glass or two of wine, then go back to her place—or my place, I’m not fussy—for some hot sex.

Most of the girls I meet know their way around the bedroom. It makes for uncomplicated fun, and I know it’s not just me who has a great time then walks away without looking back. Gone are the days when every girl was sitting at home waiting for you to phone her, and I’ve never had a crying female turn up on my doorstep demanding to know why I haven’t returned her calls. I’ve discovered that women like sex as much as men—thank God—and therefore I’m not ashamed to say it’s purely a physical act for me. When girls have tried to turn it into something more, it’s not taken me long to back out of the relationship. I like being free.

And yet now Colette’s telling me that I need to be gentle, and to take it slow with Gaby. I rub at a mark on the table top. Is that what I want? To have to spend time talking her into it, and to ‘show her the ropes’, as Colette put it? I’m not quite sure what she means. Gaby’s obviously not a virgin. Even if her ex was unimaginative, she said they met at high school, so he’s around the same age as her, relatively young. They must have… you know, experimented.

Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe he just thrust away in missionary, and if she had an orgasm it was more by luck than anything else. I find it difficult to believe there are still men out there like that, but I’ve had enough girls tell me I’m great in bed to convince me that even my meager talents are something worth celebrating.

I flip my pen through my fingers. I could ring Colette now and tell her to call it off. But the thing is, it doesn’t mean Gaby doesn’t like sex. I saw that heat in her eyes, and I hope that by now I can tell when a girl looks at me as if she’s trying to guess whether the size of my feet correlates to the size of another piece of my anatomy. Gaby might be shy and nervous at being with someone new, and she might need me take it slow. But she wants me. I can feel it, and anyway, she wouldn’t have agreed to meet me tonight if she wasn’t at least interested in taking it further.

I think about taking it slow, for once. Teasing her. Watching her eyes light up with surprise and shock as I show her things she’s not done before.

Hmm. Yeah. Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad after all.

My lips curve up, and I rise and grab my stuff with the intention of heading for home and getting ready for my date.