The Messy Maiden

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The Messy Maiden Page 5

by Shona Husk


  “We’ve still got some time. Should we get dessert?” As she said it she immediately thought of Numbers101 and his request. She shouldn’t be thinking of him while with Ian. Her gaze flicked to the sunglasses in his pocket. The dark red arm stood out against the navy blue pinstripe of his suit jacket. They weren’t the sunnies that Numbers101 wore; they were some polarized surf brand.

  And yet…she tried to picture Ian in his sunglasses. No, they weren’t the same guy. She’d know, or he’d have said something. She wished she could see him with his sunnies on just to be sure. Why was she being so paranoid? She hadn’t been like this since she first started being the Messy Maiden. After a while she’d realized that guys using her site probably had a bigger reputation to ruin than her. Besides she could deny that she was the Messy Maiden as it wasn’t her credit card getting deducted each month.

  “I wasn’t going to suggest in case you were one of…” The words faded away and she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.

  “I just ate three quarters of a panini. I eat. I don’t live on salads and sure as hell don’t skip dessert.” She looked him in the eye and bit back the smile—he wouldn’t want to know what else she did with dessert. “I don’t share either.”

  “Neither do I.” His smile was back.

  She’d definitely had worse first dates. They’d found things to talk about and she still liked him.

  The waitress came and cleared away their plates and took their dessert order. She ordered the lemon meringue—she was calling it research—and Ian ordered the choc-caramel cheesecake.

  Her heart almost stopped. She glanced at him. Seriously, cheesecake. The nerves were back for an entirely different reason. No, plenty of guys liked cheesecake, she was over reacting. However in that moment she was sure she could still smell the chocolate topping on her skin.

  Ian caught her staring. “Do I have food on my face?”

  He picked up the napkin.

  “No. I just hadn’t picked you for a cheesecake kind of guy.”

  “I have a sweet tooth.” He shrugged. “Dessert has always been my weakness.”

  When he looked at her there was something in his eyes, almost as though he was daring her to make the connection. For a moment she wanted to run. He couldn’t know who she was. She was too careful. There was no way she could date a client.

  She sipped her water and pretended that his admission meant nothing to her. He’d probably be shocked if he knew that she was picturing him as one of her clients. Yeah, she was definitely reading too much into this. It really had been too long since she’d been on a date if she was suspecting any man who asked her out of knowing who she was online.

  The smile and the glint in his eyes faded and an awkward silence formed.

  Ian was sure that he’d said the wrong thing. She’d almost flinched at the word dessert, but instead of cracking the door open she’d slammed it shut leaving the conversation nowhere to go. Had he tipped his hand too soon? If it wasn’t her, then his admission shouldn’t have drawn that reaction. She was giving him no clues.

  He had to be way off base.

  And as he looked at her he realized he was okay with that. He didn’t need them to be the same women, but he did want another date with Saskia.

  “So what are your weaknesses?”

  She gave a slow blink. “Smart guys and jelly beans.”

  He hadn’t expected her to say that…it seemed too honest an admission. “Favorite color?”

  “In general or in jelly beans?”

  “Either. Both.”

  And just like that the silence was gone.

  “Yellow for both. But I can’t wear it.”

  Dessert arrived and she glanced at his slice of cake for just a moment too long. “Did you want a taste?” He asked after a moment.

  Her tongue darted over her lip. “No. I had too much cheesecake on the weekend.”

  While his mind doubted that it was her, his dick didn’t. As he ate he tried not to think of the video. He’d ordered cheesecake as a test for her, not a test of his will power. Apparently he had none. Nor any self-control.

  Before he was half way through the cake he was fully hard. He was very grateful for the table between them and that she couldn’t read his mind.

  “Went to a party?”

  She hesitated for a second, her gaze darting to the left. “Yeah.”

  That was a lie, but he didn’t push. He didn’t need to know. Want and need were not the same and he needed another date with Saskia more than he wanted to know. He watched as she licked the spoon. He wanted to message the Messy Maiden and tell her to use lemon meringue pie on Friday.

  An idea formed. He had a live sploshing scheduled for Friday, but he could reschedule. Did Saskia have plans?

  He knew before he asked that her answer wasn’t proof or denial. But if she was free he would rather go out with her than stay home. “Are you doing anything on Friday night?”

  She frowned. “Um…kind of. Are you asking me out again?”

  Was that what he was doing or was he fishing for clues and connections?

  No, he was asking her out. Dinner at a fancy restaurant. A proper date, not a tentative first step. “I’d like to.”

  He had to believe that he wouldn’t be let down this time. That or he had to keep his secret better. Or maybe this wouldn’t get that far. So far it wasn’t getting very far at all. She seemed conflicted about a second date.

  “I’d like that too.”

  But not on Friday. That was interesting…because she already had a booking? Get a grip. She could have all kinds of things on. However his mind was already forming up connections where there probably wasn’t any…but that sliver of doubt was more than enough for his imagination to play with.

  She glanced at her watch. “If I’m not back on time I’ll be in trouble.”

  No one would care if he was a few minutes late and judging from the line at the counter he would be. “I got this.”

  She shook her head. “It was lunch.” She pulled out a few notes from her wallet and put them on the table. “I had a nice time, we could do this again?”

  Ah, she wanted another lunch before agreeing to dinner. He stood up when she did, gathering the notes. “Absolutely.”

  There was a snap of attraction and a sense of anticipation. He wanted to touch her and make sure that she was real.

  Her hand brushed his. “I’ll see you back at work.”

  His fingers closed over hers for just a moment. Before he could check himself he brushed a kiss over her cheek. Hopefully that wasn’t too much.

  She didn’t pull away. Instead she moved closer and tilted her head so he could taste her lips this time.

  This kiss was slightly longer. Long enough that he could taste the sugary meringue and the tartness of the lemon. Long enough that he wanted more than what he was going to get in the café. She made a little noise in the back of her throat, as if she’d been thinking the same thing, as they drew apart. Her hand was still in his. They looked like a couple to anyone watching.

  “How long have you been single?” she murmured.

  “Too long. You?”

  “About that.”

  If the café hadn’t still been full of the tail end of the lunch rush he’d have pulled her close and kissed her properly. He let her go. “Let me know about dinner.”

  Then he joined the queue to pay. When he glanced back she was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  After work she met up with a friend, Bianca, for a little retail therapy and a catch up. She needed the retail therapy as she still felt like crud for turning down dinner with Ian. She’d wanted to say yes and blow off the webcam date, but that was unprofessional. Bianca was usually one of her more understanding friends and they often did a midweek catch up when Saskia was working nearby.

  She needed a new bikini for the webcam, she preferred them to lingerie as she always felt a bit more covered. Bianca held out a very skimpy red number.

  “One wro
ng move and my whole boob would fall out of that.”

  “Not for you, for me.” Bianca held it up to herself. She was at least one extra cup size bigger.

  Saskia raised one eyebrow. “One big breath and you’ll fall out of that.”

  “I don’t plan on swimming in it. It’s for lying around and looking good.”

  “And when you have to pick something up?”

  “Ah well in this I won’t have to as guys will do it for me.” She checked the price tag. “Have you noticed they get pricier the less fabric they use?”

  “Yep…but I can claim it on tax.” She grinned as she pulled out a camo print bikini. Usually she avoided prints as the food didn’t show up well, but this was kind of fun. She put it back. White was out of the question…although she could wear it a few times on camera before trashing it with food.

  “Bitch. How’s it going?” Bianca was now looking through the discounted section. That was where she should be looking too, after all it wasn’t like hers lasted very long.

  “Good.” She had learned not to mention how good. “I went on a lunch date today.”

  “Lunch isn’t a date.”

  “Yes it is.” It was the closest she’d gotten to a date in nearly a year. It was totally a date. “It’s a great first date.”

  “Was it a great first date?” Bianca was all ears now waiting for the details.

  “He asked me out to dinner on Friday.” And he’d kissed her. And what a kiss. Soft and yet not too soft. No tongue and no wondering hands. Given the location and that it was a first kiss it had been perfect. Perfect enough to leave her wanting more. Dinner on Friday was all she could think about. Instead she’d be spending it getting covered in lemon meringue pie…that she’d decided on.

  “Oh my God, you have a date!” Bianca hugged her like it was some kind of miracle.

  Is that how her friends thought of her now, some reclusive computer junkie who never dated…actually that wasn’t too far from the truth.

  “I said no.” Well not exactly no, and he hadn’t taken it as a no either so it could still happen if she cancelled with Numbers101.

  Bianca let go as if her hands were burned. “Why?”

  “Because, you know…”

  “You’re twenty-six, don’t you think you should prioritize dating? Over that?”

  Saskia turned back to the rack of bathers. She picked up a hot pink bikini which had pretty good coverage. This was definitely a goer. And she’d get the white one too.

  “That makes me a lot of money.”

  “Look, I know. But don’t you think it’s gone on long enough. You’re single and you temp, aside from your laptop you have nothing.”

  Except a house with a tiny mortgage and a car. And she’d thought she had friends. “I don’t mind being single.”

  Most of the time that was true. But she was missing sex and company and conversation. Ian had reminded her of all of those things today. Damn him.

  “And in a few more years? You can’t sell yourself forever.”

  Actually there was a granny cam. She’d tripped over that by accident while online and despite being very curious she hadn’t delved deeper—some things couldn’t be unseen.

  “I’m not selling myself.” She was just letting people view a slice of her life.

  “It’s this close to porn.” Bianca held her finger and thumb so close together that a piece of paper would’ve had trouble slipping between.

  “I have an exit strategy.”

  “Then maybe you should implement it and get your life back. No man is going to be okay with his girlfriend doing that on camera. You know that.”

  Maybe she just hadn’t found the right man yet. But Bianca was right about one thing, it would be nice to be able to enjoy weekends again and go on dates. “So you think I should blow off the client and go on a date.”

  Bianca shrugged. “Reschedule. Take a night off. Tell him to watch a rerun.”

  “Would you blow off a meeting?” Saskia already knew Bianca wouldn’t.

  “No, but that isn’t your real job.”

  At what point did it become her real job? It paid more per hour. She treated it like a job—but she rarely took days off. She was too worried that if she did the guys would go elsewhere. Like any job it had its issues.

  “I get that it’s fun and that it got you out of a financial hole, but I think it might be time to let it go and get your life back on track.”

  By the time Saskia got home she’d slipped into a funk. That was despite the box of chocolate truffles, now half eaten, the two new bikinis and a pair of cute office shoes. If she’d started up any other small business she was sure her friends would’ve been more supportive—she’d never told her family.

  Maybe Bianca had a point about the temping though. Maybe it was time to look for something more permanent, although even that was just an illusion. She glanced at her red work laptop then started up her regular computer.

  She checked her emails, but there wasn’t much there. A few photos of Jen’s new baby, the reminder for the hen’s night next Saturday night. She’d already declined, but they were trying to talk her into going. It would be nice to go. She wanted to go. For a couple of breaths she felt completely trapped by her life.

  She didn’t really have one. It was all work, work, work. There was a reason for that though. She never wanted to be in the situation where losing her job meant that she was financially screwed. The miniscule amount of savings that she’d put away had vanished too fast. The experience had been a very scary wake-up call that she needed to get smarter with money. And she had.

  But she hadn’t got smarter with her career. She’d let that come to a standstill.

  She pulled up a couple of job agency websites. While she scrolled through the secretarial jobs she finished off the truffles. She didn’t need a man to buy her chocolate.

  No, but it would be nice.

  Around her the house was silent. Too quiet. So she got up and put on some music. The jobs were uninspiring and the pay was less than the temp pay.

  Should she retrain? But she had no idea what as. No, it wasn’t the temping that was a problem. She liked working in the different places. She’d been doing it for long enough now that she’d gone back to a few companies and they had her name on standby if they needed someone. A few had made her offers, but she always turned them down.

  Maybe next time she wouldn’t.

  She made herself a promise. If the right job came up with the right pay, she’d take it. That solved her day job issue.

  Then she turned around and looked at the other laptop. She had no idea what to do about the Messy Maiden.

  Or more pressingly, what to do about Friday night.

  Numbers101 or Ian.

  Work or date.

  She closed her eyes and tipped her head onto the back of the chair. It was all too hard. She had too many balls in the air and not enough hands. She really didn’t want to blow it with Ian. He was the first man she’d stumbled across in months who made her heart jump with excitement and her body realize what it wasn’t getting.

  Reschedule.

  She could talk to Numbers101 on Saturday.

  He’d always been reasonable…he’d never been this active…she opened up her Messy Maiden laptop, making sure that the camera was covered. She was completely paranoid about accidentally being online without the wig and makeup. She’d never rescheduled a chat before and it felt very unprofessional—at least it wasn’t a last minute thing.

  Can we reschedule for Saturday, same time? How do you like lemon meringue?

  She sat there for five minutes, waiting for something. Nothing. But then she hadn’t really expected him to reply straight away. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since lunch—truffles didn’t count. The memory of lunch brought a smile to her lips. The memory of the kiss curled her toes. She needed to get up and get moving. Use the treadmill and crack a can of soup. Is that what Ian was doing tonight? Going to the gym and then eating alone?


  She didn’t even know where he lived. House or apartment…probably apartment and if he sometimes rode to work he didn’t live too far from the office. Although her idea of far and his were probably two very different things if he thought riding for a couple of hours on a Saturday was a leisure activity and not exercise. They hadn’t even dipped into the dangerous territory of families yet. That she wanted to know more about him was why she wanted that second date. She hadn’t wanted a second date in a long time. The few guys that her friends had set her up with had never got past an uncomfortable first.

  Saturday is fine. I love lemon meringue.

  That had almost been too easy. But it didn’t stop her feeling like crud. She shouldn’t have to choose between her job and a date. Ian hadn’t asked her too. He’d understood that she’d had other plans…maybe she should’ve switched him to Saturday, but Saturday was big with the random chatters. And now she’d lost a chunk of that time doing a live splosh with a lemon meringue. No edits. She hoped she didn’t cock it up.

  There was nothing left to do except let Ian know that she was now free for dinner.

  Not tonight though. She didn’t want to appear that keen, or desperate.

  Ian was sure there was a tremor in his hand as he’d typed that message. It was too coincidental. Saskia and the Messy Maiden had to be the same person. He closed his eyes and remembered her smiling as she’d eaten dessert at lunch—lemon meringue pie.

  That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  If it was there were too many of them.

  It was more than curiosity now. He needed to know more about Saskia. He glanced at his phone, but there was no corresponding message from her. He’d left the ball in her court again because she didn’t seem to want to make the commitment to another date. If the two women in his life were the same person that made sense. After all he knew when the Messy Maiden worked, that was why he’d asked for a Friday night—deliberately double booking himself.

 

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