Crossing the Line

by Annabelle Eaton

  He’s in the bathroom in second, eyes wide. “You being murdered?”

  “Now is not the time. Fix the shower.”

  “Do I look like a plumber?”

  “What does a plumber look like?” I shake my head. No time for that. “Who cares? You’re a man and men fix things. Do something.”

  “Amelie, I have no idea how to fix this thing,” he says as he looks at it. “You don’t need a shower, you look fine, just get dressed.” It’s then I realise I’m still completely naked.

  I turn to the large mirror over the sink and realise this is the first time Aden has lied to me. Nothing about me looks fine. Not the smudged eye make-up, making me look like a panda, my hair that rivals a bird’s nest or the dark red love bite on the base of my neck that screams cheap whore.

  Groaning, I run the cold tap and splash water over my face. At least I can reapply make-up and wrestle a brush through my hair. Aden’s lack of general manliness really pisses me off. I thought DIY was part of the package of having balls?

  Second day reapplied make-up makes me feel gross, but at least I don’t look like a clown anymore. My hair wasn’t happening, so I’ve tied it up in a high ponytail. Next is clothes. At least they’re all clean and thankfully I have a shirt so the collar will hide my slut tag.

  Aden is already dressed in a charcoal suit and white shirt when I get back in the room. If I wasn’t still mad at him, I’d be attacking him. I love him in a suit.

  “Something you like?” he asks with a smug grin. I roll my eyes, not even bothering to reply to the idiot. His eyes are on me the whole time I unzip my suitcase and chose what clothes I want. Throwing on a black pencil skirt and cream blouse, I sigh in relief that they’re not badly creased. I’m ready, and we won’t be late. That has to be a record.

  “What?” I ask Aden as I catch him staring.

  “You look…” He trails off and shakes his head. “I could take you right now.” The second he’s finished his sentence I worry that my outfit is too much. It’s the sort of thing I wear to work, but that’s because I’m screwing my boss. I don’t want to look like that to other people. My skirt and blouse is fitted, but I’m not showing cleavage, and the skirt is knee length.

  Shrugging, I decide that I’m dressed fine, and Aden is just a pervert. A knock on the door brakes the sexual tension that’s growing again. “That’ll be my dad.” Ah, the dad that doesn’t know I’m sleeping with his son.

  “Shit. Should I hide?”

  “Or we could tell him you met me here?” His smug face is begging to be slapped.

  “No one likes a smart arse, Aden.” I shove my suitcase under the bed; throw the cover over my discarded closes and slip on my shoes. Aden waits until I’m done before he opens the door. Richard and Amanda are standing there smiling. Creepy.

  “Good morning,” Amanda says.

  I smile but even I know it’s a too wide. A guilty smile. “Hey. I just got here.”

  Amanda nods, frowning slightly. “Okay.”

  I cringe. That’s what guilty people say. Avoiding eye contact with both of them, I grab my handbag and walk out of the room. Amanda walks slightly ahead of Aden and Richard, so I keep to her pace, not wanting to get involved with the men’s boring pre-meeting talk. I’m here to take notes.

  “How did you sleep last night?” Amanda asks as we wait for the lift.

  “Um…fine, thanks. What about you?”

  “Not great, it was horrible sleeping alone. I miss Carla, but we spoke last night and this morning.” Shocker.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “I’ve decided that I’m proposing the second I get home.”

  “Really? That’s great, Amanda.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Hey, do you fancy coming out with me after the meeting to find her a ring?”

  My heart drops a little. I was hoping to spend the afternoon with Aden, but I can’t exactly say no. “Sure. Hold on, do you both have to get rings or just the person being proposed to?”

  Aden’s eyes flick to me. Crap was that rude? It’s a genuine question, though. It not like I’d just asked her if she misses penis. Although I do wonder that. On the plane, she’d told me she had boyfriends until the age of nineteen when she met her first girlfriend.

  Amanda smiles. “I’ll buy her one and hopefully she’ll say yes, then we’ll both choose one for me.”

  “That’s cool that you both get one.” The door opens to the lift, and we walk inside. I’m grateful for the distraction because Aden is still watching me carefully.

  We arrive at the huge, posh office of the guys we’re meeting and wait in reception. Richard is talking to Amanda about taking minutes, and Aden uses that as an opportunity to pull me to the side.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way.” So of course I’m immediately frowning. “I love the crap you randomly come out with but for this morning please, please don’t say anything past nice to meet you,” he says, pressing the palms of his hands together pleadingly.

  Half of me wants to laugh, and the other half is offended. “What are you suggesting, Aden?”

  He smirks. “Do I really need to give you examples?” No, he really does not.

  Narrowing my eyes, I force my mouth into a straight line to stop the grin that’s trying to dominate my face. “No, that won’t be necessary. I get it, be silent Amelie, so I don’t embarrass you and get us all kicked out of Dublin.”

  “Well I don’t think they have the power to kick us out, but that’s about it.”

  “Fine, I won’t say anything to your snooty rich friends.”

  “They’re not friends but thank you.” His eyes flick over my shoulder just before his lips graze mine. I don’t even have time to blink before he’s gone. “When you’re done ring shopping we’ll go out, yeah?”

  “Yes. You owe me for the no talking thing.” Actually I’m quite grateful I don’t have to say anything.

  “Anything you want, Millie.”

  “I’m gonna make you regret saying that.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll bet. Come on.” We re-join Richard and Amanda just as three men wearing almost matching suits approach us. They’re all wearing the same smile. They are way too happy to be at work.

  A few words were exchanged, but I barely understand any of it. Their Irish accents are strong. The taller, blonder one shakes our hands first. “Nice to meet you, Amelie,” he says, or that’s what I assume he says as Aden introduces us.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  He says something else, but I don’t get it, so I nod. He repeats what he said before, and I start to panic. Fuck what do I say? I gulp. “I like your suit.” Yes, when I draw a blank I compliment.

  “Are we ready?” Aden cuts in. The nice suit man nods and gestures for us to follow.

  I wince as Aden looks at me. “Wear those shoes in bed tonight.” He walks off, following everyone else while I stand still in shock. Did he say that or did I imagine it? Looking down, I turn my foot to admire my black stiletto heels and imaging them wrapped around Aden’s waist later.

  Before they disappeared around the corner, I run-walk to catch them up. The meeting room is large with a long glass table stretching almost from one side to the other. Glasses and a jug of water is set out in the middle. How long is this meeting going to last?

  For-fucking-ever. That’s how long they manage to drag it out for. I sit in my chair counting the number of square tiles on the ceiling. Aden looks happy, though, and I’ve gotten used to their accents a bit more. Nice suit is actually called Paul and hasn’t spoken to me since we met. I don’t blame him. The other two are still nameless.

  Three hours later and we’re finally free. “Would you two like to meet for dinner tonight?” Richard asks me and Amanda as we step back onto the street.

  No, I want to ravage your son. “That sounds great,” I reply, glancing at Aden, who’s glaring at his dad. We say goodbye to Aden and Richard and head off to find a jeweller.

  “So you and Aden?” Amanda says as soon
as we had turn down another street.

  I choke on air. “What?”

  She smiles, raising her eyebrow as if to say busted. “So you’ve not been discretely holding hands?” Well apparently not.

  “Shit,” I mumble. “You can’t say anything.”

  “I wasn’t going to. You really like him?”

  “Way too much.”

  “He seems to like you too.”

  I smile, and my heart swells. “I think so, but knowing my luck it’ll all go horribly wrong.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Amanda laughs. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Nothing will go wrong if you don’t let it.”

  “I can tell you haven’t met my mother,” I mumble. Or me. I have a habit of unintentionally screwing things up. Amanda stops and stares at a ring. I can tell she didn’t hear what I just said. I follow her gaze to a fairly pretty simple gold band with a diamond sparkling on the surface. “You like that one?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “Carla will love it.”

  It’s not something I’d choose for myself, but it’s not me that needs to like it. “Are you getting it or do you want to look around more?”

  She looks over and smiles. “Well I’m a woman so we’d better look around then come back to this one at the end.”

  I laugh. “Sounds good.” Although I’d rather spend time with Aden, I’m quite enjoying Amanda’s company. Besides Christie, I don’t have many female friends.

  The next jeweller is ridiculously expensive; like could buy a new car for the same price expensive. It’s probably what my parents would consider loose change. “They’re all gorgeous but have you seen the price?” Amanda whispers to me.

  Yes, I’m still trying to figure out if anyone is stupid enough to pay these extortionate prices. Just because you have a bottomless pit of money doesn’t mean you have to be stupid enough to pay more, surely. “Want to leave?”

  “I think so,” she replies, and we made a run for the exit. Of course, we don’t reach the door before a perfectly groomed woman with a sleek black bob and strong perfume stops us.

  “Can I help you?” the bob asks.

  “No thank you,” I reply. “We were just browsing.” Before she has time to ramble on about how amazing their jewellery is, I link my arm through Amanda’s and walk out of the shop.

  Amanda practically skips back to the first shop, and we’re greeted immediately. “I’m Trudy, how can I help?” the assistant asks. Jesus is everyone working in jewellers perfectly groomed?

  Amanda gives a megawatt smile. “I’m looking for a ring for my girlfriend. That one actually,” she replies, pointing to the ring.

  “Fabulous choice.” I roll my eyes, like she doesn’t say that about every ring in here. “Do you like it?” Trudy asks me.

  I frown. “Yeah.”

  “Well congratulations.”

  Whoa. Back. The. Fuck. Up. There’s no way I’m getting engaged. But Aden. I used to think I’d be on the Miss train forever but now there’s my sexy boss. “Oh it’s not for me. I on a different team to her,” I joke, nodding to Amanda. Cringing, as I suddenly realise Amanda could have taken that badly, I glance over. Thankfully she laughs quietly and hasn’t taken offence. I really, really need to think before I spoke.

  “Oh, sorry. I just assumed.”

  I shrug one shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  “Would you like to take a closer look?” Trudy asks Amanda. That is probably the dumbest question she could ask. Like Amanda is going to pay eighteen hundred pounds on a ring she hasn’t properly seen.

  Amanda’s face lights, making her dark brown eyes shine. “Yes please.”

  I take a step back as they orgasm over the ring. Will I ever get that? Will Aden and I work out? I try to picture him in here, looking for the perfect ring for me, but I can’t. Either I’m going to forever tick the single box or my imagination sucks.

  “Amelie, are you ready to go?” Amanda asks, holding up a small dark red bag with HOLMAN written in gold on the front. She’s already paid for the thing. How long was I daydreaming for?

  “Yeah.”

  We shopped a little and bought a few things before walking back to the hotel. I like Dublin and make a mental note to come back for a weekend sometime.

  “There’s Richard and Aden,” Amanda says, pointing to the bar as we walk through the glass doors of the hotel. They’re sitting on one of the dark wooden tables in the corner.

  “Been shopping I see,” Richard says with a grin. That’s dumb; he knew that already. “Did you find a ring, Amanda?” As Amanda sits down beside Richard and starts opening the bag, I sit next to Aden and blush as his eyes rake over my body. Pervert. For someone that doesn’t want anyone to know he’s screwing his PA he’s not doing a great job of hiding it.

  “What did you buy?” Aden asks, peering into one of the bags.

  “Some clothes, a necklace, a couple books,” I reply and then lower my voice to add, “and a set of very slutty underwear.” His mouth opens in a silent groan. He looks pained.

  “What’s it like?” he whispers.

  “It’s tiny, black and has a lot of lace.”

  “Wear it tonight?”

  “Was planning to.”

  Aden’s eyes darken and he stands up. “Wine?” he asks. I nod. “Amanda?”

  “Glass of red, please,” she replies. I resist the urge to gag. Red wine, warm wine, is disgusting.

  “Are you enjoying Dublin, Amelie?” Richard asks, now involving me in his conversation.

  The only part of Dublin I’ve seen is some shops and a boring office, but I’ve loved it so far. “Yes, it’s great.”

  “And I see you’ve bought some things too?”

  I nod at the awkward conversation. I’d prefer if he just ignored me. “A few things.” Where the hell is Aden?

  “Very good. Aden tells me you’re getting on well at work, learning the ropes quickly,” he says, with a big, toothy grin as if he’s just told a really funny joke.

  What do I say to that? ‘Well it’s not exactly fucking rocket science.’ That wouldn’t go down well. “Aden’s a good teacher.” Great now I sound like a bloody schoolgirl.

  “I am?” Aden asks, smirking as he puts the tray down on the table.

  “I guess,” I mumble, before taking a huge gulp of wine. Intoxicated. That’s what I need to be for this dinner to be bearable. I hope Richard stops asking questions because I hate lying. Not that I expect he’ll ask if his son’s been inside me.

  Aden sits back down, and I notice it’s little closer to me than before. I’m immediately suspicious, especially when his hand disappears under the table. Before I have chance to give him the don’t you fucking dare face his hand settles on my thigh. My eyes widen in alarm. He’d better not do anything else.

  Richard and Aden carry on a conversation about the second meeting tomorrow, and I can’t figure out if Amanda is really interested in what they’re saying or if her smile is as fake as mine. After fifteen minutes, I give up smiling – my jaw aches – and go with the S Club 7 songs that seem to be on repeat in my head since I saw a diamond clad woman reaching for stars on a poster in one of the jewellers.

  “Millie?” Aden shakes my arm.

  I jump as he squeezes my shoulder and look up. He’s standing. They all are. Laughing nervously, I stand too. “Yeah?”

  “Our table’s ready.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I grab my bag and follow Amanda to the restaurant. How long had I been sitting there deep in an S Club party while they were staring at me like they were witnessing my mental breakdown?

  “You okay?” he whispers, pulling a chair out for me.

  “Thanks. Yeah, just lost in my thoughts. I’m fine.”

  The menu is in what I assume is either Chinese or Japanese. Why is it not in English? I look at Aden, and he smirks. “Japanese night. Apparently in this restaurant they have a different menu from around the world every night of the week.”

  Well isn’t that just fucking fantastic. How are you
supposed to know what you’re ordering from those bloody symbols? “You want help understanding it?” Aden asks. He looks smug.

  I know I’m being juvenile, but he’s not winning this one. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “No thank you.”

  “You’re being stubborn. Just let me tell you what some things are.”

  “I don’t need you to. I know exactly what I’m ordering.” Lie.

  He rolls his eyes. “Of course you do.”

  Whatever. How bad can it be?

  Our food is brought out surprisingly quickly, and my plate is set down in front of me. I say a silent prayer – please don’t be something gross – and look down. A silvery grey fish stares back at me. Oh God, oh God, oh fucking God. It still has its eye! What kind of sick fish pervert leaves the bloody eye in when cooking it. Is the brain still in there too? Christ of course it is. My stomach turns.

  “Millie,” Aden hisses urgently. “What’s wrong? You’ve paled.”

  “It’s looking at me,” I mumble, not taking my eyes off Nemo. I think I’d prefer to eat a cat.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Aden failing miserably to not grin. “Do you want to swap? I have chicken and noodles.” I also have some noodle too, but they’re under the fish. He doesn’t let me answer before he switches our plates.

  “Are you sure? You like that?” I point to the very alive looking fish that is now in front of Aden.

  “Yeah, I like fish.”

  “Weirdo.” He chuckles and raises his fork ready to dig into the fish. That’s when I look away. The thing I now have is delicious, especially considering I’m not a huge fan of meat.

  Once dinner and work talk ends we all made our way back to our respective rooms. Richard is going to do some work on his laptop and Amanda is off to call Carla - again.

  Back in Aden’s room and after a quick shower, change into my new slutty underwear and a tight blue dress I’m ready. I don’t bother looking in the mirror because I probably won’t be dressed for long, and I probably still look a mess. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.