Chapter Six

It's Thursday. I don't see him when I go for a run. I don't see him at Fresh Me Up when I get my daily green smoothie. I also don't see him in the lift. I'm glad, but I'm not.

Today is office day, so I leave after breakfast and there's still no sign of him. Why do I want to see him again? I thought I was happy, managing not to think about him most of the day yesterday.

It's the first day back at the office after Monday's fiasco. I'm hoping Haley won't ask for a private meeting to remind me how I should do my work. I'm not in the mood.

I have meetings with other designers to discuss trends and materials and budget. I also meet with my team to discuss the changes we need to make so the collection gets approved. ASAP.

‘Are you planning on killing me, Olivia?' says Caleb, with a hand on his heart.

I knew he would freak out. His bugged out cartoonish eyes behind his rose gold framed glasses only confirms his desperation.

‘Sorry, Caleb. It is what it is. I can't even look at those designs anymore, they are too good to be fixed. We'll recreate them. We can do it,' I reassure him.

‘In less than two weeks? No, we can't,' he's throwing me a painful smile, crunching his face, showing all his very white teeth, matching the pearls on his ears.

Caleb Kingston is a workaholic, and we've been working together since I was promoted after my internship, almost three years ago. He's the kind of professional that makes things happen and is not at all familiar with procrastination. He gets my designs, we share the same vision and we complement each other's ideas. But what I love the most about him is that he always, always gives his all. He puts his heart into everything he does, and this means he's capable of making almost everything possible.

‘Caleb, I'm going to pretend you just didn't say we can't, because I pretty much know you're the queen of making the impossible possible'—hence my nickname for him, Queen—‘so cut the drama and let's make it happen. Besides, we've done worse than that in a much smaller time frame,' I remind him.

‘Cruel,' he says, and darts his narrowed eyes at me. I know he didn't take it personally, we are used to being this honest and straight up with each other.

‘Steph, send me some ideas by Monday. Taylor, set up a meeting with the suppliers and start quoting. As for delivery, beg if needed. Everyone else, you already know what to do. Let's meet again on Monday and check the progress,' I say.

Once everyone leaves, it's only me and Caleb in the meeting room.

‘You like it complicated don't you?' he says, standing up to follow me as I walk toward the glass door.

‘And you like the challenge,' I wink at him.

He tips his head back and laughs without a care in the world.

‘That's why we're the perfect team,' he says.

Later in the day I attend a photoshoot of the collection that soon will be released, explaining to the models how to wear some of the pieces. I also fix any tiny detail that needs attention so everything looks impeccable in the photos. I get the rejected pieces of the collection back and immediately text the girls to inform them.

Today at 4:30 pm

Me: Saturday, my place.

Then I send a photo of the pieces lying on my desk.

Naomi: I love you.

Lexi: Can't wait! I'm hoping these will help me spice things up in bed!

I finish my day at the office replying to as many emails as I manage before my stomach starts complaining that it's dinner time. I actually could have done this part at home, but I was kind of avoiding going home early.

#

Back in my building I'm checking my phone as I'm waiting for the lift holding the bag with the lingerie. Then I hear his voice. I pretend not to, but my heart is a traitor. I look up and see him coming through the front door talking to three other guys, one a lot older than he is—could be his father. One just a bit older, and the third, a younger version of him, only with shorter hair and tattooed arms and neck impossible to miss.

Luc's carrying a huge black and white HEAD's bag on his back—possibly the same one from the night we met—and so is the younger guy. The older man has a rolling suitcase. The other has a bag slung over his shoulder. All four of them are wearing sports clothes.

As soon as he sees me, Luc smiles. I smile back, there is no way you'd see that smile and not smile back. You can fight as much as you want. You will fail.

‘Hey, good to see you,' he says, and by the look on his face he really means it.

‘Hey,' I say.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek. While we have our moment—if you can call it that—the others are talking among themselves in French. I don't understand much. The lift arrives and we all step in. He stands beside me, while the others stand opposite to us. They are still discussing something that seems serious and interesting. I'm basically a ghost to them. Not for Luc, he can't keep his eyes off mine, only briefly to check out my legs, all the parts my mini dress doesn't cover.

‘Were you playing tennis?' I ask this because of his bag, I know the brand. As soon as I ask this I get the full attention of the others too. For a moment I think I might have said something wrong.

Luc half-smiles and looks to the guys then back at me and says, ‘Yes, I was. Do you like tennis?'

‘Not really. To be honest I don't even know how you score on a tennis match.'

All men laugh and the only feasible explanation for that is the fact that I am clueless about the sport they clearly enjoy.

They didn't laugh in a way that made me feel stupid, but in a way that made me feel like I told them the best joke of the day. I don't mind. I smile back, innocently.

Once the lift reaches my floor, they say goodbye. Luc places his hand on the small of my back, an unexpected touch that sends an electrifying thrill throughout my body, and touches his cheek to mine as he says in my ear, ‘See you around.'

This time he doesn't get off with me and take the stairs. He stays with the others until his final stop.

Today is one of those incredibly hot days of London's summer. No open window could make up for this crazy heat. I decide to take another shower, risking missing Amazon's delivery guy who might arrive at any minute; I'm waiting for some supplies to arrive. As soon as I step out of the shower I hear the doorbell ringing. Just in time.

I wrap myself in a towel and head for the door. No time to wrap one around my wet hair. It's not the first time a delivery guy will see me in a towel. I hate it when it happens, but it's better than missing my package or having it delivered to Mrs. Thompson.

I open the door and to my surprise is not the delivery guy, it's Luc.

‘Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you. I can come back another time,' he says, trying to avert his eyes from my collarbone, but failing miserably. He's flushing.

‘No, no, it's okay …' I say even though there's nothing okay about this. Though he has already seen me in my underwear, it doesn't make it any less weird that he's now seeing me in my towel. Ok, last time I wasn't sober. Now I am, and I'm fully self-conscious of my appearance.

‘Come in, I'll be ready in a minute.'

I let him in anyways, because even though I want to stay away, I can't.

‘Are you sure?'

‘Who's there?' I hear Mrs. Thompson.

‘It's me, Mrs. Thompson, Olivia,' I shout, to Luc's amusement. ‘Yeah, I'm sure. If the bell rings you can answer the door, it's Amazon. But do it fast because, otherwise, Mrs. Thompson will get it first. Then I'll have to get the package from her and she'll want to talk for an hour and invite me in for tea,' I say with a serious face.

He doesn't look serious to me, he's suppressing a smile, his eyes betray him.

First thing I do when I close my bedroom door behind me is head to my closet and pick my lingerie. Don't get me wrong, it's not because I'm planning on showing it to him, but rather to give me some shield against this crazy attraction I feel for him. It sounds crazy, I know, but lingerie makes me feel safer somehow.

I pick a lacy black botanical embroidered set with a bra and a hipster brief that is mostly transparent. It's too hot for anything other than thin and transparent fabric. I feel powerful already. I slip on a black crop top and white ripped high-rise shorts, put some simple makeup on, my favourite Chanel perfume and let my hair dry naturally—with this heat it will happen fast. I hurry up, I don't want him to wait too long. I'm curious to know what he wants. I swear that's the only reason.

‘Hey,' I say as I catch him sitting on one of the kitchen island's stools. His hair's fresh from a shower too. He's wearing chino shorts again, this time navy and a white V-neck. There's something about him and V-necks that makes his collar and neck irresistible.

Oh for goodness' sake. Stop it.

‘Hey,' he gives me a once over as he gets up from the stool to greet me with a kiss on the cheek, only this time his hand goes to the hair on the back of my neck with full purpose. The touch of his long fingers threaded through my wet hair is better than I expected it to be, it makes every pore of my body awaken.

‘What's up?' I ask as if it weren't a big deal to have him here right now, and his hand on my neck, like this. The thud thud from my heart tells me this is a big deal whether I like it or not.

‘I won't take much of your time, just wanted to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me on Saturday,' he says.

What?

Ok, now the intervals between the thuds thuds are shorter. I wish I could pause this moment and weigh the pros and cons of the possible answers I could give him. But I can't. Even asking for time to think about it would already be a complicated answer.

‘I …' I begin, but before I continue I take a deep breath. I'm sure that after I say what I'm about to, I'll push him away. And though it will be a shame not to see those eyes staring at mine again, it will be better than the heartache I'm destined to have if I keep this going on for longer.

‘Listen, Luc, I don't think it's a good idea.'

His face now is the most confused I've seen. His eyes, though connected to mine, now seem lost.

‘Why not?'

Were his eyebrows that perfect all along? Why am I thinking about this right now anyways?

‘You know why.'

‘Do I?'

The slow way he drags his eyes from mine to my mouth, makes me chew on my lips.

‘Yes, you do.'

He closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale. When he opens them again he says, ‘I promise not to take advantage of you. Unless you want to,' he grins.

Oh God, why?

I feel my face get hot. As we stand there in front of each other I lose my willpower provided by my lingerie to keep away from him almost instantly.

Would it be too bad if I slept with him? Just once?

‘That's the problem,' I say.

The shock on his face as he hears this is priceless, it makes my pulse go wild, it sets my insides on fire. He closes and opens his eyes in slow motion, as if he has just had the kind of pleasure that makes you feel doped, like when smokers take their first drag, or when an addict takes the first sip of alcohol in a long time.

He takes one step closer. I don't know how long I will resist being this close to him looking at me like that, like things only make sense if we are as close as we possibly can be. He takes another step, and now I feel the heat of his body embracing mine. For a brief torturing moment I know if he touches me I will let him, and I won't have any more control over the situation and what can happen next. Then I'm saved by the Amazon guy.

I head to the door as fast as I can and get the package and set it on the kitchen island. He's watching me all the while. Right now the kitchen island is separating us, the vase with the flowers he gave me between us.

You know what I want right now? Him. I want to know how his lips will feel when they meet mine, find out what he tastes like when his tongue pushes inside my mouth, how my skin will react to his hands exploring every inch of my body, his smell all over me penetrating my nostrils, him inside of me until I lose myself. Yeah, that's what I want, that's the only thing that could put out this fire I feel between my legs right now. But then I don't let my mind go there, I keep reminding myself that he also has the power to hurt me badly, of making me lose control of everything I have power over, including my heart.

‘Right. I should go,' he says heading towards the door.

I watch him striding across the room and wonder if I'll ever get this chance again. Contradiction and temptation get the best of me. He's leaving, right? So I won't have to worry about dumping him, like the others. This time will be easier. An experiment maybe? And like a magnet and metal, I can't let him go without giving it a try. Because, as Caleb said, I like it difficult.

‘Are your brothers and father going to be there?' I ask.

He turns around with a wide grin on his face, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

I'm so going to regret this.

‘Maurice isn't my father, he works with me, as does Daniel. Jules is my brother, I guess there's no doubt in there considering he's a younger version of me,' he smirks, before continuing, ‘And no, they're not going to be there. I won't be cooking, I'm taking you to a place I like. Only you and me, if that's ok.'

Oh God. The way he says only you and me already implies so much it shoots a thrill of anticipation through me. I'm definitely regretting this, eventually.

I fidget with my fingernails, because I don't know how to feel comfortable in this situation. Why is it so hard to control myself when I'm standing in front of him?

‘When should I be ready?' I ask.

I can't even believe I'm doing this. So much for making him go away, so much for self-control.

‘Seven?'

‘Sounds good.'

I don't accompany him to the door, I stay as far from him as I can just to be on the safe side.