‘If you are going to stay out all night you should let me know. Something might have happened to you and I was worried.’
‘That is really kind of you to take such care about where I am, but I’m twenty-four. I can stay out if I want. I wish you would stop spying on me.’
‘I wasn’t spying.’ Neil stuck out his chin.
‘Then how do you know I wasn’t in my room if you weren’t checking?’ Chantelle said.
‘I was worried about you.’
‘You aren’t responsible for me, Neil.’ She sighed.
‘I kind of am. You are here alone in a foreign country. You could easily be a target for men who want to take advantage of you. Especially looking like that.’ He motioned towards her legs. ‘Where were you? Were you having sex?’
Chantelle steeled herself and rolled her eyes. ‘Neil, do you want something?’
‘Yes, I do, actually. Did you hear anything about your job yet? It’s only four weeks till your rent contract is up and I need to know if I should start looking for a new flatmate.’
‘Not yet,’ she said.
He smirked. ‘They’re leaving it awfully late to offer you a job. That’s if they even are going to offer you one.’
Chantelle looked at him. She should tell him there was no job. There wouldn’t be a job. No matter what happened she would be moving out at the end of the month anyway; even if she found a job she would be moving out. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell that to Neil right now. Couldn’t deal with his gloating, his I-told-you-so attitude. Instead she shrugged and gave a weak smile. ‘I promise you, Neil. As soon as I find out if I’m getting a job I will let you know.’ She turned and went to her room before he had time to say anything more.
Chantelle was the first in the office. She had slept badly. She had a spreadsheet to finish after leaving the office so early yesterday and she had to get on with her job search. The last thing she wanted to do was return home to France, back to her aunt and uncle. They would be glad to see her and welcome her with open arms, of course, but she would feel like a failure.
Aunt Caro and Uncle Nico had already done more than enough for her. She was twenty-four now and it was time she stood on her own two feet. Not to mention the fact she had always promised herself she would earn enough one day to support them and return everything they had done for her. Everything they had given her when money was already so tight. She had never gone without.
She opened her CV on the computer and began updating it.
‘How are you feeling today?’ Patsy asked when she arrived an hour later.
‘Much better. I think it was just the shock of talking to Margaret and hearing her telling me that there was no chance of a permanent position here. It kind of hit me. I had always hoped that at the last minute something would come up. But it’s good, like a wake-up call.’ Chantelle said.
‘Did she say that?’ Patsy asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And no chance of an internship extension?’ Chantelle shook her head. ‘Chantelle, I’m going to miss you.’ Her colleague squeezed her arm.
‘Me too. I’ll miss you.’ She blinked back tears. Patsy made a sympathetic face, but Chantelle looked away. It was too sad.
‘I know something that will cheer you up,’ Patsy said, her eyes suddenly sparkling with excitement. ‘It would certainly cheer me up. You’ll never guess who was looking for you yesterday.’
‘Who?’ Chantelle asked, frowning.
‘You will never guess in a million years, so I’ll just tell you. Only Mr Carmont! He came in here yesterday after the meeting and asked me where you were.’
‘But why?’ Chantelle asked, starting to feel nervous.
‘I don’t know, I think he was just checking to see that we were all working following him telling us about the US deal being on the rocks. Don’t worry, I covered for you and told him you weren’t well.’
‘I wasn’t well,’ Chantelle mumbled.
‘I know, it was fine. He didn’t mind in the end. Oh wow, he is so sexy. It was great just being so close to him.’ Patsy blushed.
‘I know,’ Chantelle agreed. Patsy looked confused.
‘How do you know?’
‘I mean, I bet it was.’ Chantelle turned back to her computer and opened the job board. She began making a list of jobs she could apply for. Just after lunch Margaret approached her desk. ‘Chantelle, please can you report to Mr Carmont’s office?’
Chantelle looked up, feeling panicked. ‘Mr Carmont’s office, but why?’ Beside her, Patsy’s mouth was open.
‘Because he requires analyst support with a specific project,’ Margaret told her.
‘But … but why me?’ she asked. ‘What about the senior analyst?’
‘Or me? I could go,’ Patsy suggested.
Margaret shook her head. ‘Mr Carmont doesn’t want anyone stopping their work due to the importance of the meeting next week. He specifically asked for our departmental intern to help. Come on, Chantelle, I don’t want you to keep the managing director waiting – and remember you are representing our department in there.’
Chantelle nodded. She picked up her notepad and pen and made her way towards the executive wing. She ignored Patsy’s hiss of ‘lucky’ as she passed. She was feeling anything but lucky. Nervous butterflies had descended into her stomach.
She pushed open the door to the department, walking slowly. She moved along the familiar corridor towards the executive wing. A woman of about fifty stood up at her desk when she saw Chantelle coming and buzzed the door open. Must be Granger’s assistant, she thought.
‘Mr Carmont is waiting for you, go straight in,’ the lady told Chantelle. Chantelle swallowed and walked to Granger’s office. She tapped lightly on the glass door and opened it when she heard his deep voice telling her to come in.
‘One moment, I’m just finishing something,’ he said, without looking up from his screen. His suit jacket was on the back of his chair. He was typing, looking intently at the computer screen. The maroon tie he was wearing highlighted the glow of his tanned skin. His strong jawline was dark with stubble. Chantelle was struck once again by how attractive he was. She felt her body respond to him.
She felt herself longing for him to take her in his muscular arms, longing for him to press his lips against hers in a firm kiss her that expressed tenderness and passion as he had the other night. She could smell his aftershave and her stomach tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to block the images from her mind. She was professional, and not prepared to make the same mistake again.
When she opened her eyes again she found that Granger had looked up and was watching her, head to one side. He had an expression of amusement on his face.
‘Is everything OK?’ he asked. Chantelle felt a blush stain her cheeks. She didn’t trust herself to speak so just nodded.
‘Please sit down.’ He motioned to the seat opposite his desk.
‘I missed you yesterday – your colleague said you were sick. I hope it was nothing serious.’ His voice was gentle.
‘I’m sorry I left early, but I really wasn’t feeling well. Don’t worry, I arrived early this morning to make up for the hours I was out.’ Chantelle spoke formally, keeping all emotion from her voice.
Granger frowned. ‘I hated to think about you going home last night to that flatmate.’
‘You don’t have to worry about me,’ she said, and laughed. It sounded fake.
‘No, I don’t.’ He pursed his lips. ‘Will you join me for dinner tonight?’
‘Err … Mr Carmont, I understood you needed my help with something. That is why I am here, an analysis of some kind?’ She was battling to maintain her composure.
‘You didn’t answer my question.’ Granger’s eyes flashed danger.
‘No. I will not join you for dinner. It’s not right,’ she said. Granger sat b
ack in his chair, studying her face. Chantelle was sure he could read her like an open book and see that it was all a front.
‘OK, then I have another proposal for you …’ He paused for a moment, considering. His arms crossed over his chest.
‘A proposal?’ Chantelle repeated.
‘As you know I am going to America next week for this meeting. I need someone to look after Rocky while I am gone. You can move into my apartment while I am away.’
‘Move into your apartment?’
Granger grinned. ‘You don’t have to repeat everything I say.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Chantelle smoothed her hair. ‘I’m just trying to understand. You want me to dog-sit?’
Granger shrugged. ‘Yes, why not? Just while I’m out of town. It makes sense. We both get something out of it. You help me by taking care of the dog, and you don’t have to live with that peeping Tom for a few days, while I’m out of the country.’ He pressed the palms of his hands together and held his fingers to his lips, waiting for her response.
Chantelle considered. It sounded perfect; she would give anything to be able to get away from Neil for a while and she adored dogs. She took a breath.
‘I couldn’t. Thank you very much. It is very kind of you to take pity on me. But I will be fine.’
Granger frowned. ‘How? It’s not exactly an ideal living set-up you’ve got there.’
‘No. But I will figure something out. It’s my problem. I do not need your charity.’
‘It’s not charity. I need someone to dog-sit for me.’ Granger said.
‘Please don’t insult my intelligence, Mr Carmont. You travel all the time, you must have someone who looks after your dog. You don’t need me.’
‘He’s only just become my dog. And I don’t need you, no. But I want you,’ Granger said, leaning forward. His eyes fixed on her. ‘Why don’t you want me?’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Carmont, I know you are used to different. But I’m not like that, like the other girls.’ She got up and started towards the door. ‘Now if there wasn’t anything else? I assume you don’t really need my help with any analysis.’
Granger also stood up. In one fluid movement he strode around his desk and positioned himself between her and the door. Being so close to him caused her body to react, her skin tightening and her heart speeding up in her chest.
‘I want to see you again,’ he said. ‘After last time …’
Chantelle shook her head. ‘No.’
Granger studied her. ‘Why not? Was it so bad? With me?’
‘No!’ she gasped. ‘It should never have happened, though. It was my fault, I was stupid.’
‘Stupid?’ Granger raised an eyebrow. ‘Sleeping with me was stupid?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, meeting his eyes. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight, but I am not going to make the same mistake again.’
Granger narrowed his eyes. ‘Well that’s a first, too. I don’t think I’ve had a lady call me a mistake before.’
‘Granger, I don’t know about your other girls, but I’m not like that. This is new for me,’ Chantelle said, moving past him to the door.
‘What other girls?’ Granger murmured. Chantelle ignored him and kept walking to the door.
Chapter Five
‘What other girls?’ Granger asked, catching her arm. He was so close now. She could feel his body close to hers. She could smell that rich masculine aftershave.
‘Your other girls,’ Chantelle repeated.
He frowned. ‘I don’t have any other girls. I’m really trying to understand you, but you’ll have to help me out here. What other girls?’
‘The ones you date,’ Chantelle said; it sounded childish. She bit her lip.
‘I told you, I don’t date. OK, there was Cynthia, but that’s finished. There hasn’t been anyone before that I’ve dated.’
Chantelle shrugged. ‘It’s what I read.’
Granger’s eye’s locked on to hers. He lowered his face; his voice was low. ‘I told you, you can’t always believe what you find written online.’
His face was so close, so attractive, her resolve was melting. One more time. She would deal with the fallout later, but right now … She stepped towards him and lifted her hand, placing it on his chest. She could feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt; it sent an electric charge through her. She shivered.
Granger’s mouth met hers, claiming her lips. She folded into the strong embrace of his arms as his tongue caressed hers. His fingers found their way to her breasts, gently teasing her, causing her to moan with pleasure. He soon replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue brushing over her nipple through the thin silk fabric of her blouse; warmth filled her body, heat between her legs.
In one smooth movement he lifted her and carried her across the room to the leather sofa, placing her gently down. One by one he opened the buttons of her blouse, moving slowly and with restraint. Chantelle watched him, not daring to move. Finally, all buttons undone, he released the pale skin of her breasts and caressed them with his lips. Her eyes closed as her fingers twined through his hair.
Granger’s mouth moved downwards trailing a path of kisses until he reached the hotness between her legs. He eased her underwear down and his tongue began exploring her, until he found the tight bud of her clitoris and began working expertly, caressing and teasing her. She gasped with pleasure and it caused him to groan with his excitement.
He stood up and strode to his desk. Chantelle watched him, fascinated, struggling to believe this was happening. She glanced around the office – his desk, the large window, the frosted glass wall, the door. Someone could enter at any moment; excitement rippled through her.
Granger took a condom from his wallet and walked back to the sofa. His eyes locked on hers, a half smile on his face. Chantelle’s fixed on him, mesmerised. He unzipped his trousers; she watched as he released his erection and pulled on the condom.
He positioned himself carefully and lowered himself down. Chantelle gasped as he entered, waves of pleasure washing over her. Her arms reached up and coiled around his neck, pulling him down further. He smelled so good, felt so good. She wanted more. Her hands ran over his back – she needed to touch his skin, but he was still wearing his shirt. She reached around, pulling at the fabric, exposing his muscular stomach, and slid her hands inside.
He moved slowly and steadily at first, each long slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body. Chantelle’s excitement mounted with each movement. She sucked in a breath as she struggled to keep up. Her orgasm engulfed her; she dragged her fingertips over the hard skin of his back, their eyes locked and her lips parted.
Granger dropped his mouth to hers, kissing her lips, his fingers holding the back of her head. His own pleasure began to flow as he climaxed inside her. Her body went limp in his arms, her energy spent. He lifted her as he adjusted their position, so her head was resting on his chest.
‘Sorry,’ Granger said, moments later.
‘Do you always apologise after sex?’ Chantelle asked with a grin.
Granger looked at her. ‘No. I guess you have that effect on me.’
‘What? Make you regret it?’
He kissed her shoulder. ‘I don’t regret it. Far from it. If we don’t get up pretty soon, I’m going to want to do it again.’ He shifted so she was sitting beside him and began dressing. ‘I’m sorry that we did it here. In my office. At work. Hardly professional.’
Chantelle looked up. ‘It’s OK, I wanted it.’ She buttoned her blouse.
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Where’s my self-control? When I’m around you, it just seems to vanish.’ He brushed a hand over her flushed cheek. ‘I just couldn’t help myself.’
She lowered her eyes. ‘I wanted it, too.’
‘I’ve never done this before.’ He looked around the office an
d stood up, tucking his shirt into his trousers. ‘I shouldn’t do it. It’s not fair to the company.’
‘No,’ Chantelle agreed. She looked up at him dressing. ‘But it was fun, though.’
Granger glanced at her, surprise on his face, then laughed. ‘You’ve got me there. It was more than fun! Will you allow me to make you dinner at my place? To make up for this disrespectful act?’ He gestured to the couch with a grin. ‘I have to show you how it’s meant to be.’ A shiver rippled through her and she felt excitement burn inside her again. Her hands trembled as she adjusted her skirt. ‘Here, you can use the mirror.’ Granger said, opening a door behind the desk that Chantelle hadn’t noticed before. She stepped into his private washroom and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged, as was her lipstick. When she had straightened her clothes and fixed her hair she stepped back into the office. Granger was dressed again, looking fresh and crisp and sitting behind his desk. She picked up her notebook.
‘I’ll talk to you later,’ Granger told her, walking her to the door of the office. Chantelle didn’t trust herself to speak. His assistant looked up from her computer as Chantelle passed. ‘Here, let me buzz you out,’ she said, pressing a button that caused the door to the executive floor to open.
Chantelle walked slowly back to the analyst department. A smile had taken over her face and she had to pause for a moment to regain her composure. Her hands started shaking as she tried to digest what had just happened. She needed a moment. She stopped at the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror, trying to remain calm but, as she stared at her own face, the smile threatened to reappear.
Granger was so … special. And funny. And kind. And attractive. And she was going to his again, that night! It hadn’t just been a one off. She wanted to jump up and down, but she forced a serious expression into place then headed to her desk.
Patsy was waiting for her, wide eyed. ‘So, what happened?’ she said, as soon as Chantelle sat down.
‘Oh, nothing. I just had to work on some macro problem. It wasn’t exciting,’ she said, keeping her eyes on her computer. She couldn’t give anything away.
The Executive Floor Page 8
