But he knew.
He looked up at her. “You lied to me.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“Jennifer…” He stood, suddenly unable to stay still. His gaze was caught on that small stain. Blood. “Why did you lie?”
“I’m sorry!”
“Stop saying that!” He roared. Then, as she hugged herself protectively and stepped back, he took a breath. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to shout. Jen. Come here.”
She hesitated. But she came, stepping into his open arms. He hugged her closed, kissing her forehead.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered.
“I thought—I thought you might be angry. I thought you might stop.”
“Oh, Jenny. No. I just wish I’d known. I would’ve been…. Better.”
She pulled back and looked up at him, so openly sceptical that he almost laughed. “Better than that?” She asked, her voice ringing with disbelief.
“More romantic, I mean.”
She rolled her eyes. “But I liked that. I don’t want you treating me like I might break.”
“Oh, there’s no danger of that, Princess.” He kissed her fiercely, wrapping his fingers around her throat—gently, with just enough pressure to hold her captive. His other hand roamed her naked body, charting its hills and valleys, as he revelled in the knowledge that only he’d had something no-one else ever had. When she thought of this moment in her life, it would be forever tied to him. A savage joy filled him, had his cock swelling again.
“Come back to bed,” he whispered against her lips.
“I… I can’t,” she sighed. “I have to go home. I have work tomorrow, and I need to talk to Aria.”
The primal side of his mind, and his cock, protested at the idea of her leaving. But then an idea struck.
“Alright. I’ll come with you.”
“What?”
“You don’t want to stay with me—that’s fine. I get it. You have a life. But leaving you last night was fucking torture. If you won’t stay here, I’ll come with you.”
She blinked, blindsided. But it was too late; his mind was made up. Energised, Theo strode over to his dresser.
“You can borrow some of my clothes,” he said. “Since I had that, ah, accident with your skirt.”
“Accident?” She snorted.
“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” He tossed her a pair of tracksuit bottoms, along with a hoodie and a pair of his briefs for good measure. “Let me get a bag together and we’ll go.”
“Are you sure about this?” She asked, slipping on his underwear. He tried his best not to look; the sight was frankly too much for his already-aching hard-on.
“Definitely,” he said.
“Because it’s not necessary. And I can take a taxi home.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jen. You’re not taking a fucking taxi.”
She rolled her eyes. One of these days they’d end up stuck.
Once they were ready, the pair retraced their steps to the driveway. Theo felt vaguely guilty about the fact that all she’d really seen of the house was the front door and his bedroom. He hadn’t even offered her a drink. He would make her dinner, if she’d stay, but she wouldn’t, would she? His mother would kill him if she knew about this. His mother would never know about this. Thank God. But she’d like Jenny. She’d like her a lot.
They drove home in companionable silence, Jen humming along to her favourite songs as she flicked through Spotify.
“You like Michael Jackson?” Theo asked, after she played the third MJ track in a row.
“Are you serious?” She looked at him askance. “Of course I do! Who doesn't like Michael Jackson?”
“I didn’t think it fit with your punk princess thing.”
“I listen to all kinds of music, actually.” She stuck her nose in the eye.
“But mostly music with angry guitars and a lot of screeching, right?”
“God, you’re such a dad.”
He glared. She giggled. He struggled to maintain the glare.
◆◆◆
There was no feline corpse hanging from the door tonight. Jen fumbled for her key, cold fingers scrabbling around the bottom of her bottomless bag, and tried not to feel awkward. Theo was standing behind her in silence and usually that would make her nervous—but for some reason, with him, she just felt slightly giggly. She’d been giggling a lot recently. And now she had the keys, but the lock wasn’t working like it usually did. Ugh.
He wrapped his warm hand around hers and said, “I think it’s open already.”
“Your hands are always warm,” she told him, because babbling was better than being embarrassed in silence.
“They’re not,” he said. “Yours are always cold.”
She pushed the door open. He was right about the lock. He was probably right about her hands, too. They stepped into the well-lit hall, because of course Aria had left the light on for her. Aria was an angel, when she wasn’t a pain in the arse.
The silence of the flat snuck into their bones, made them creep down the hallway together as though they’d agreed to stay quiet. Theo was clumsy, though; she’d never noticed before. But he moved as though he wasn’t used to the breadth of his own shoulders, and had he just stubbed his toe on a door frame? They hadn’t even gone through the door. She smirked as he swore under his breath. Then they found themselves outside Aria’s room, and Jennifer called her name softly. No answer came.
“Sleeping,” she told Theo.
“So early?”
“I think she’s on an early shift tomorrow.” She led him on, into the kitchen.
“What does she do, anyway?”
“A couple of things. She works at a coffee shop part-time, and she works at this tattoo parlour down by the train station.”
“She’s a tattoo artist?”
“She’d like to be. Not yet, though. She’s learning.”
“Huh. That’s cool.”
“Aria is the definition of cool. You want something to eat?” She watched as he sat down at their little kitchen table, a smile playing about his lips.
“Please. What have you got?”
“Um…” She crossed the little room to investigate the contents of the freezer. “Pepperoni pizza? We need to go shopping. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Everybody loves pepperoni.”
She turned the oven up to 200 and tore open the pizza box. Then she considered the size of the man at her table and grabbed another box. She highly doubted he’d be up for sharing a single pizza.
“So how long have you known Aria?” He asked.
“Forever. Since I started secondary school. I lived with my grandmother, after my parents… You know. So I was in a new area, and I went up to secondary school without any friends. But me and Aria met on the first day. I was lucky.”
“You’ve stayed friends all this time?”
“Yeah. She was married for a while; a guy from school. He was such a dick. They got married at eighteen and she lived with him, but he was never really around; he’s a musician. He’s in a band; they travelled a lot, you know? Anyway, they’ve been divorced for a few years. She moved back in with her parents—they have a big house. Like, really big. But she was tired of living there, so when I got this job at Brown Cow we decided to move in together.”
“When was that?”
“About a year ago.” She slid the last pizza into the oven before shutting its little glass door, then set the timer. “Want to go and watch some TV or something?”
His eyes darkened. “Or something.”
Heat flooded her cheeks at the same time as arousal fired her blood. She put a little sway in her hips as she led him to the living room, despite the fact that she looked like a fool in his grey tracksuit bottoms, the hems rolled up.
He smacked her arse as he followed her down the hall, and she squealed, then scurried off into the living room—
And stopped short.
Theo arrived, swore softly behind her.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, pulled her against his chest.
It was only then, a good five seconds after she’d laid eyes on the horror, that she started to scream.
Her mind split in two. One half was cool, rational. It wanted to know why she couldn’t calm down. Why she couldn’t be reasonable about this. It spoke with her grandmother’s voice. It asked—What is that God-awful noise? It said, Jennifer, you be quiet this instant.
The other half of her mind didn’t say anything. It simply screamed.
“Jenny! It’s okay!” Theo was holding her tightly, pushing her back out of the room, into the hallway, and now Aria was running out of her bedroom with a lamp in her hand, swinging it like a bludgeon, and Jennifer’s scream became even more hysterical somehow.
“What’s wrong with her?” Aria shouted.
“The living room—“
“Jennifer, stop screaming!”
“Hey! Don’t shout at her!”
“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then Aria slapped her, hard.
Jennifer stopped screaming.
Ah, the calm half of her mind said. It was us. We were the noise.
“Jenny,” Theo said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He glared at Aria. Aria glared back. He stroked her sore cheek with one hand and fumbled in his pocket with the other. Than he produced a phone.
“What are you doing?” Aria asked.
“Calling the police. Did you have to hit her?”
“Yes. What happened?”
He jerked his head towards the living room. “See for yourself.”
Jennifer watched, dispassionate, as her best friend went to look. She came back seconds later, her face grim.
“Okay,” she said. “That’s pretty awful. But I don’t think it’s real blood.”
Theo glared. “That’s not helpful. Here; you talk to them.” He thrust the phone into her hand.
Jennifer wondered how, exactly, Aria could be so calm about this. But then, it wasn’t Aria’s name smeared across their living room wall in I-don’t-think-it’s-real-blood.
It was Jennifer’s.
Chapter Seventeen
“You shouldn’t be going to work,” Theo said.
Jennifer ignored him, of course. She focused on adjusting her bra straps—had she gained weight? Again?—and then on getting the seam of her stockings straight. Ish.
“Jenny. I’m serious. After last night—“
“It wasn’t even real blood.”
“Even so—“
“I’m going, Theo. Are you giving me a lift, or not?”
He sighed. But she knew what his answer would be.
“Of course I am.”
“Thank you.” This was the part where she should kiss his forehead, or something like that. She liked the sight of him in her bed, his hair even more adorably mussed than usual. But she wasn’t quite at the casual affection stage. She sent him a tight smile instead. Her hands were probably shaking, but if she could just keep moving, she didn’t have to notice.
She clutched the handle of her bag tightly for the whole drive. It stopped the shaking. When they were just a few streets away from their building, Jennifer reached out and laid a hand on Theo’s arm.
“Pull over here, would you?”
“Why?” He frowned.
“I’ll walk the rest of the way. I don’t want anyone to see us… You know.”
He sighed. His face grim, he swung into a supermarket carpark. “Here okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” She started to open the door, but he stopped her, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in a gesture she recognised as frustration.
“Jenny,” he said, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Okay.” Something told her this wouldn’t be good.
“I don’t like the idea of hiding you.”
“Well,” she said slowly, “you’re not. Think of it more as… Hiding us.”
He cut her a look. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. It just seems weird to think that we’re going to go to work and act like we don’t even know each other.”
“Theo, that’s how it’s got to be. You know I need this job. I can’t afford to be the girl who’s banging the boss.”
“That’s not what you are.”
“Isn’t it?” She arched a brow. “We work in advertising, Theo. You know as well as I do that it’s all about perception. People twist things to fit into their little dramatic boxes—and this thing between us, whatever it is, would just become office gossip. I don’t want that.”
He heaved out a sigh. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. But would it really be so bad, if we were to be… I don’t know, official?”
She gave him a look. “And what happens when it ends? Where does that leave me? If I tried to move elsewhere I’d have people whispering behind my back about the girl who tried—and failed—to screw her way to the top. Back to bartending for me, huh?”
“No. There’s something in the contract about that.”
She threw up her hands. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. And why do you keep talking about things ending?”
“Because they will,” she said, her tone painfully matter of fact. Or at least, it felt painful.
He looked at her, and for a minute he seemed ready to speak. But then he shook his head and sighed. The seriousness of his expression, the set of his jaw, relaxed.
“Alright, Jenny. I understand. And if you insist on expecting the worst…” He shrugged. “I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
He looked so bloody sure of himself, it was infuriating. And she had to get a look at this mystical contract of his. It sounded like something out of a bad film.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “I’ll be late.”
“You won’t if you stay in the car and let me drive you.”
“Theo!”
“Alright, alright!”
Laughing, she opened the door and got out. She gave him a little wave, and he returned it with a rueful smile before pulling off and driving away. Taking in the fresh, winter air, with a deep breath, Jen started her walk. It wouldn’t take long, and it’d give her some time to think, too.
She was almost there when she saw it: Priyanka’s car, idling around the corner from their building. Pri sat in the front seat, applying lipstick in the rearview mirror. Smiling, Jen bent down to wave through the window of the little cream Fiat.
“Pri!” She called, grinning like a loon. Her friend turned to the source of the noise, and Jennifer saw with dismay that Priyanka’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her usually glowing skin sallow. Grim-faced, Pri rolled down the window.
“Oh my God,” Jennifer gasped. “Are you okay? Have you been crying? What’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” Priyanka said, her usually strident tones wobbly. “It’s nothing.” Then she dissolved into sobs, burying her face in her hands.
“Oh, Lord” Jennifer murmured. Looking up and down the street as though a spy might be lurking, she opened Priyanka’s car door and got in.
“God,” Pri barked, her sobs quieting. “You look awful. What’s wrong with you?”
Huh. Wan she may appear, but Priyanka was just as blunt as ever. Biting down on a smile, Jennifer responded in kind. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?”
“Respect your elders. I asked first.”
“Fine. I appear to have a potentially violent stalker, and last night they broke into my house—except nothing was actually broken, since my flatmate fell asleep with the door unlocked—and daubed my name on the living room wall in what the police are calling a sophisticated blood substitute. Go on, then; you next.”
Priyanka stared for a moment, her fine nostrils flaring like a startled horse’s. Then she began to giggle, a high-pitched, manic sound that almost immediately dissolved into tears.
“Oh,” she gasped between sobs. “Jennifer, you are awful. Fine, keep your secrets.”
Hm. Apparently, the situatio
n was as unbelievable as she’d thought. Well; maybe it was better this way.
“But Pri,” Jennifer said. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you crying?”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, fumbling in her pocket before pulling out a handful of tissues and blowing her nose loudly. “I’m just feeling emotional,” she said, her voice muffled by the wads of Kleenex. “Hormones.”
“Mmhm,” Jen said, not bothering to hide her scepticism. “Right. Sorry, this might be out of order but… Is it anything to do with Richard?”
“Richard?” Priyanka squawked. “Why, what on earth would…” Then she caught sight of Jennifer’s face, and the innocent expression on her own disappeared. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you know too?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“How?!”
“It’s probably best that I don’t answer that. Just know that you can tell me, whatever the problem is.”
Priyanka sighed. “Fine. This is probably a blessing, really. I need to talk to someone about it.” She tossed the tissue onto the backseat.
“So what’s up?”
“Well…” Priyanka sniffed, cleared her throat. Her eyes were red-rimmed and shimmering dangerously. “I had a phone call last night from that fucking bitch Lilliana.”
Jennifer sucked in her cheeks and bit, hard. It was the only way to stifle the highly inappropriate laughter that threatened to bubble up. “Um, isn’t she still a client, Pri?”
“More’s the fucking pity,” the older woman spat darkly. “She knows about Richard and I.”
That wiped the smile off of Jennifer’s face. “Crap. Seriously?”
“Seriously indeed. She says I have to quit.”
“Or what?!”
“Or she’ll tell my husband,” Priyanka finished. The obviously was implied.
“Oh. Right.” Jennifer bit her lip as she considered how to approach the situation delicately. It took about a second for her to realise that they were well past delicacy now. “Well… I mean… What’s the situation with, you know, your husband?”
Priyanka sighed. “He’s not the man I wish he was. But that doesn’t matter, does it? Because I am the one who is being unfaithful.” A sob burst from her lips. “He doesn’t deserve this.”
Bad for the Boss_A BWAM Office Romance Page 13
