Happily Ever After_ - Benison Anne O'Reilly [77]
On the drive to work I was apprehensive. What was the etiquette involved in sleeping with a co-worker? How did you greet each other the next day? I slunk into the office, deflecting questions about my ‘headache’, grabbed my papers and headed for the meeting. We were planning our upcoming marketing campaign so there were quite a few people in attendance.
My heart thumped as I entered the room. What if Alex completely ignored me? I kept thinking about what he’d told me the previous night. His words had suggested otherwise but it wasn’t completely out of the question that I was just another girl in the queue. Now that he’d got what he’d wanted he might quickly lose interest. That would be horrible and awkward but probably the best thing in the long run.
He was already in the room when I arrived. Rather than look right through me he sought out my gaze and gave me a shy smile.
‘Hey Alex, you look a wreck. What did you get up to after we left you last night?’ enquired one joker.
God, I thought I was going to die at this point and buried my burning face in my papers, but Alex deflected the question masterfully, without displaying a hint of embarrassment. He would make an excellent poker player, this boy. He did look very tired though.
We were professional co-workers during the meeting but when it drew to a close he waited till everyone else had headed outside before approaching me.
‘How are you? Did you sleep okay?’
‘I did actually, thank you, although I’m planning an early night. What about you? How are you travelling?’
‘Oh I’ll just have one drink to be sociable and then I’m planning to head home and crash out.’
‘Just as long as you don’t crash on the way home. Drive carefully.’
‘I will. What are your plans for the weekend?’
‘Just the usual stuff. Tony gets back tomorrow.’
‘So there’s no chance of seeing you?’ he asked, gently brushing his fingertips against mine as he did so. This simple act was enough to set off a shiver of remembered arousal.
‘No, I’m afraid not.’
‘Well you can’t blame a guy for trying.’
Okay, maybe I was not going to be just another girl in the queue.
***
It wasn’t strictly accurate to say it was business as usual that weekend. A significant event on the Cooper family calendar was scheduled to take place - Pamela’s sixtieth birthday. The extended family had been invited to Sunday lunch at the family home, with Andrew even making a flying visit from the States to attend.
Tony arrived back on the Saturday. We hadn’t spoken since our fight on the Thursday morning but by this time my anger had dissipated and for Isabel’s sake I felt the need to clear the air. Wisely I didn’t say (with apologies to Shakespeare), ‘Sorry, but while you were away I made the beast with two backs with a work colleague.’ I think it was actually, ‘Sorry, I might have overreacted a bit on Thursday morning. I was under stress about work.’
‘Yes, you did but let’s forget about it. I did try to call you back but couldn’t get any mobile coverage on the yacht.’
The winter weather was kind to us that Sunday. Isabel had on her best Nana-purchased frock in honour of the occasion. It was navy blue velvet with a satin ribbon trim, accessorised with white flower-embroidered socks and black patent shoes. Issy rather admired herself in it. ‘I’m a fairy princess Mummy,’ she said. I would have worn my navy suit and black patent shoes too, to match, but that was what I’d worn on Thursday night and under the circumstances thought it would be inappropriate. Instead I chose a cream and black jersey wrap dress and black knee-high boots.
Pamela looked fabulous and was completely in her element as the centre of attention. She was wearing a cream Armani pantsuit, which with her height she could carry off, and could have passed for a decade younger, although