His Girl Friday

by Ellen March

  Smiling secretly to herself, she hastily showered and dressed. She was nervous yet excited to see him again and wondered how she should act.

  * * *

  Paul glanced up at Sally as she skidded into the kitchen. She reminded him of an exuberant puppy, happy and eager to please, and he knew damn well that Roman was about to spoil it.

  She peeked at his serious face and said, “What’s wrong with you? You look as if you’ve lost a tenner and found a fiver.” Her laughter bounced around the room as she turned her back to him and began rummaging in the fridge. “I’m starving.” She pulled out a slice of cake and munched on it. “So, come on. Tell me what’s up?”

  “Nothing,” he lied, not wanting to be the harbinger of bad news. Instead, he tried to divert her train of thought. “Oh, Marilyn rang in and booked today off. And no you’re not cooking for us,” he said with an attempt at humour.

  “Is Roman still out riding?” She peered through the open door, trying to get a glimpse of him. Her stomach flipped at the thought of seeing his handsome face again. She wondered if he’d make love to her tonight, but she couldn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t. She’d had a taster and how, and now she wanted more.

  “How’d you know?” Paul spun round, wondering if she also knew he’d met up with Roman earlier in the morning. He had been in a filthy black mood, barely speaking. He’d taken Facet and ridden him hard over the adjoining moors, fetching him back sweating and lathered up. Whatever was wrong, he had the demons on his shoulders, and Paul knew him long enough to leave him well alone.

  Sally kept an eye on the window, still searching for a glimpse of him. Over her shoulder, she said, “I saw him from my window just before I came down.” When she turned to Paul, she was wearing a silly, smug smile. “I had a fantastic time last night, Paul. It was truly amazing. He was so gentle and loving.” She stared dreamily into space. “To think that he actually believes I’m beautiful. Plain old Sally Friday.” She released one long, lonesome sigh. “It’s kismet.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t forget fate can be a fickle mistress,” he tried to warn her.

  “Oh my word, here he comes now. What shall I do?” she whispered excitedly, ignoring his words.

  “Nothing at all,” advised Paul, waiting for the fireworks to begin. He didn’t have long.

  “Morning.” Sally smiled, casually leaning against the breakfast bar while still nibbling on her cake. Her gaze never moved from him as he strode into the kitchen. “It’s a beautiful day.” She couldn’t help but think that he was a dead sexy male, with his fitted T-shirt and tight jeans. She knew intimately what they covered.

  “Is it?” snapped Roman without looking at her.

  Sally’s smile faltered. “So, did you go far on Facet?” She wondered why he was acting this way.

  “Far enough.” Deliberately ignoring her, he pulled a cold can of juice out of the fridge and swigged it thirstily. His gaze was hard and distant. “Shouldn’t you be working? I’m not paying you to stand around.”

  Sally bit her lip and felt the treacherous tears rise, yet she was unable to work out what she’d done wrong. “No, you’re not, are you.” She left her uneaten cake and stumbled almost blindly out of the kitchen, the tears blurring her vision.

  Roman turned to Paul, his face like granite. “Haven’t you got anything to say?”

  Paul shook his head. “Think you’ve said it all.” He followed Sally out of the room.

  Roman stared around the empty room and slammed his fist hard against the wall, the force cracking the plaster. He swore long and hard, wishing that people would accept the fact that he wasn’t able to stay with any woman. He didn’t believe in relationships and definitely didn’t believe in love. What he was doing to Sally was for her own good.

  She had to remain at a distance. It was better that way.

  * * *

  Paul stood by the open door, staring at Sally’s back. He noticed her shaking shoulders and quietly walked up to her. He pulled her head down onto his chest and let her cry but was unable to offer any words of comfort.

  The remainder of the day disappeared in a blur for Sally as she tried to immerse herself in her work. Yet her thoughts were never far from Roman. She tried to reason why he was acting as if he hated her.

  As if last night had never happened.

  She kept going over and over their time together, trying to work out what she’d done wrong. The only answer she came up with was that she was as crap in bed as she was at everything else she did in her life

  Suddenly an image of her friend Yasmin floated in front of her, and she wished she shared her philosophy of life. Yasmin never worried about anything. She urged her to accept that life was in the hands of the gods. Kismet. Yasmin was a wonderful belly dancing teacher, but Sally couldn’t agree with her outlook.

  Sally stood at the window and watched Roman leave, how he moved with a lithe, animal grace. His jeans, as usual, hugged his hips, and his T-shirt clung to his muscled chest. She wondered briefly where he was going. Then she put that thought aside. She was merely the hired help. He’d made that more than clear.

  * * *

  It was late in the evening and Sally was flicking around the channels, trying to find something interesting. She didn’t really feel like watching TV and was just making a pretence of it, sitting next to Paul, who was curled up with a magazine.

  Roman’s car pulled into the driveway.

  Sally glanced nervously at Paul. “He’s back,” she said unnecessarily. Standing, she pulled the curtain back and dared a peek out of the window. She turned and put a hand to her mouth, feeling sick. “And he’s not alone.”

  Shaking his head, Paul joined her and saw the petite woman beside him. Roman had his arm loosely around her waist and she was looking up into his face, laughing at something he said.

  “I can’t believe it. Why is he doing this to me, Paul?” Her green eyes glinted with unshed tears. “What does he want from me?”

  “I don’t know, hun. I honestly think he’s lost the plot.” Paul rubbed his forehead in frustration.

  “Well, I can’t sleep upstairs tonight. I really can’t bear to listen to him making love to her when he … when I ….” Great gulping sobs racked her body.

  “Ssh, Sal, I know it hurts, but don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’s wounded you.” Paul wrapped his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

  “I wish I could turn back time.” She swiped off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. At least the stairs to the bedroom were outside the lounge, and he wouldn’t need to come through the room. “I was such a fool. I knew all along he thinks I’m so ugly that not even a blind man would want me. He just wanted the novelty of taking my virginity! He probably shut his eyes when we were having sex.”

  The door opened and they both jumped apart, as if they’d been caught kissing. Roman walked in, his arm around the petite brunette.

  “Am I interrupting something?” His voice was cold as he stared angrily at the two of them. He was acting totally irrational. Even though he knew Paul was gay, he didn’t like seeing him draped over Sally.

  “Not yet.” Paul smiled, his blue eyes glinting mischievously. He was determined to give Roman something to think about. He couldn’t figure out what was driving Roman to be such a heartless twit. It was like he was deliberately trying to hurt Sally, and Paul wasn’t going to let him get away without a few wounds of his own. “We were just going up to bed. See you in the morning.” Clasping Sally’s hand, he dragged her behind him.

  Roman glared after them. He knew damn well Paul didn’t do women, never had in all the years he’d known him. But there was that tiny element of doubt, and he was furious with the both of them.

  “Come on. Forget the nightcap,” he rasped, moving his partner towards the door and taking her up to his bedroom. He shot a glance at Sally’s door and noticed there was no light, but then he heard a peal of laughter from down the hall where Paul slept.

  B
alling his fists, he swore he was going to have a word with him first thing in the morning. And if he’d so much as touched her, Paul would be applying for a new job. It didn’t dawn on him that his reaction was unreasonable.

  * * *

  “I can’t sleep here,” said Sally, giving a brief glance around the room. “I mean, what will Roman think?”

  “Exactly what he likes, which is the reason I’m doing this. That man needs a serious wake-up call.” Paul grinned, enjoying himself. He’d seen Roman’s thunderous face and knew he still wanted Sally. What he couldn’t figure out was what the hell he was doing screwing someone else.

  “Look, hun, I’m a strictly a one man guy. Any man.” He chuckled to himself. “Never had a woman and definitely don’t fancy one. Don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t do anything for me at all.”

  “Well, it’s not as if he’s jealous. He can’t stand me so just admit it and give up.” She gave a huff and sat on the edge of the bed, yawning tiredly.

  “Trust me, I know Roman well. So just get into bed, Sal, and listen to my guidance. Tomorrow’s another day.” Paul pulled off his clothes and folded them neatly before jumping into bed. He thumped and fluffed his pillow then settled in.

  Sally stared at him and finally stripped down to her T-shirt and panties, leaving her clothes where they lay pooled on the floor. Tidiness she didn’t do. She didn’t feel any attraction to him. She liked Paul as a friend. Her first GBF. Yet it still felt weird getting into bed with a guy who was both gay and had no intention of fucking her.

  “Knock the light off, will you, hun?” Paul said tiredly.

  Sally walked around the bed and flicked the switch. The room was immediately bathed in darkness and she stumbling over his shoes, screaming as she fell to the floor.

  “Watch out for those.”

  “Thanks.” As she rose to her feet, she felt for the bed and pulled the sheet back. Snuggling in beside him, she clung to the edge of the bed and prayed she wouldn’t snore.

  * * *

  Roman heard Sally scream and slammed the door shut. All these years Paul had been gay and now he decided to try something new? And with his Sally?

  Except he knew she wasn’t his.

  He’d done a really good job of pushing her away. Too good. But he hadn’t expected the white hot rage that consumed him and refused to go away. He knew he couldn’t take it out on Eve, the petite brunette.

  “Look, something has just come up, I’ve got to leave,” he apologized, ignoring the confusion across her upturned face. “I’ll take you home.”

  “But …?” Her gaze flicked longingly over his bed then back to him.

  “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” Roman kissed her lightly on the lips. They felt strangely thin and smeared in greasy lipstick. Not like Sally’s, which were warm and plump and tasted of cornflowers. He cursed her again, wishing he could get her out of his mind.

  Lying in bed listening to the silence, Sally was wondering why Roman wasn’t humping the girl he’d taken to his room when the front door slammed loudly. Jumping out of bed, she crossed over to the window and peered down on the front of the house, where she saw Roman’s tall figure walking the girl to his car.

  Obviously his bed wasn’t good enough, she thought and slapped the curtain closed. But at least she wouldn’t have to listen to them making love.

  * * *

  The following morning Paul was pottering in his greenhouse, humming out of tune to a song on the radio. He was carefully replanting the peppers he’d been growing when he felt a presence. When he turned to look, he confronted Roman’s black eyes bored menacingly into him.

  “Morning.” Paul grinned happily. Roman was absolutely fuming.

  “I’ll ask you this just once,” snarled Roman, his knuckles white as he clenched the door. “Did you touch Sally?”

  “Well, guess it depends on what you mean by touch,” he countered vaguely, almost choking when a hand suddenly snaked out and grasped him by the throat. “You’re strangling me,” he rasped, tugging at Roman’s hands.

  “Well, answer me!” Roman shook him like a rat, beyond reason. The scream he’d heard reverberated around his head.

  “Well, let me go and I will.” He tried to peel Roman’s fingers back, and when Roman released him, he fell back gasping for air. “Of course I didn’t touch her,” he eventually managed to whisper. He’d badly underestimated the depth of Roman’s feelings towards Sally.

  “So why did she scream? What were you doing to her?” Romans’ glare raked over him.

  “She fell over my shoes when she was putting the light out.” Paul rubbed at his throat and watched him warily. Whether he knew it or not, Roman had it bad.

  Roman shook his head, realizing the explanation was entirely possible, given Sally’s track record. “So why was she in your bedroom in the first place?”

  “Because she couldn’t stand to hear you making love to another woman.” Feeling suddenly brave, Paul pushed on. “And I had the brilliant idea to make you jealous. It obviously worked.”

  Roman ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never been jealous in my life and I’m certainly not now!”

  “So why did you try and throttle me, knowing I’m gay?” he challenged. Standing with his hands on his hips, he stared up at him and waited.

  “I don’t know. Probably because I’m tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I bet.” Paul shook his head sadly, sweeping a dirty look over him.

  “I didn’t sleep with Eve. I took her home then came back,” he admitted, glancing down at his feet. He tried to work out his emotions, why he’d felt the need to take her home.

  “Wow, that’s a first.” Paul flashed a grin of approval then stared at him. “You really need to admit to yourself that for the first time ever you’ve met someone you could spend the rest of your life with.”

  “Paul,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow and giving him a sceptical look. “You don’t half talk some utter shit at times.” Roman turned and ambled back to the house, feeling relieved that Sally hadn’t been shagging his gardener.

  * * *

  It had been over a week since he’d last spoke to Sally and his temper simmered continuously. Even though he knew he had instigated it, he was frustrated that she couldn’t be at least friendly. The words “frosty” and “frigid” definitely described her behaviour. She wouldn’t even stay in the same room.

  During the day she remained closeted in the office. In the evening she walked the dogs around the grounds, anywhere but where he was. Even Marilyn tiptoed around the place, hating the atmosphere, while Paul made his loyalties clear, obviously taking Sally’s side. For once in his life Paul did not make any comments. Roman was too volatile to upset any further.

  Several times Roman had tried to speak to Sally, to find some way of penetrating the barrier she’d erected. The slim, green-eyed siren had disappeared, replaced by the bespectacled tramp from hell.

  He thought back to when he’d caught her on the patio with Paul and tried to make amends by offering to take her riding again.

  “I’m here to work, nothing more,” was her stilted reply. She stared stonily past him, never at him, he noticed. Her braces glinted in the evening sun.

  “Well, you are allowed to enjoy the perks that come with your job,” he teased, certain that she’d come round.

  “I already have,” she said with an icy glare, “and I find I really don’t like them.” She spun on her heels, and for once in her life did not fall over. She left him standing in the lounge, clenching and unclenching his fists in frustration.

  Paul clapped slowly, nodding his approval. “You deserved that,” he said with a smile.

  So when the invitation came to join his friend, Tariq, at a convention in the States he had jumped at it. Welcoming the time away from what he once called home, he hoped to banish his demons with his wild and unconventional friend. The one thing they both excelled in and loved mo
st was the seduction of women.

  The following morning he managed to catch Paul, Sally, and Marilyn in the kitchen. “I’m leaving for America this afternoon. Should be out there for a few weeks.” He glanced at their faces and noticed with some disappointment that Sally didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’ll all manage in my absence.” After listening to the tumbleweed blow across the floor, he’d shrugged his shoulders and left.

  As he threw his case in the car, he searched for any sign of Sally. Paul stood beside him.

  “She won’t come out, you know.” Folding his arms, he leaned back against the stone wall.

  “Who?” Roman slammed the boot shut a little too forcefully in his temper.

  “Marilyn,” Paul sarcastically supplied.

  “Shut the hell up, will you? I’ll ring you when I get out there.” After adjusting his sunglasses, he jumped over the door and into the seat. He couldn’t resist giving one last searching glance before he started the engine. The gates opened slowly, and as he drove through them, he checked his mirror. He saw her blonde head at the window of her office. “Bitch,” he muttered, slamming the car into gear. The small sports car roared into the distance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sally closed the window and a wave of sadness rolled over her. She was relieved in a sense that he’d be away from her. All she could think about was Roman.

  Yet, strangely, she’d noted he hadn’t had any nocturnal visitors since the night she’d spent with Paul. She wondered if a sex addict could go on the wagon like an alcoholic.

  Whistling, Paul ambled into the office. “What you doing today?” He perched one slim hip on the side of her desk and wondered absently when the bitch from hell would be making her reappearance. He hoped she’d be away a lot longer.

  Sally shrugged her shoulders, not really caring. She realized she was going to miss Roman even if she wasn’t talking to him. His presence alone was better than not seeing him at all.

  “Well, hun, you can stop moping around the place and do something about it.” Paul carefully studied her, his arms folded across his chest.