by Ruby Molloy
She expels an exaggerated huff and bumps her shoulder against my arm. “What’s to work through? You like me. I like you.”
Fuck, if she’s not right.
I jump to my feet and hoist her over my shoulder. She lets out a squeal that’s more of a squawk and I carry her through to my bedroom, dropping her to the bed. I guess we got a little wild last night. The sheets are a mess, bunched up in waves that remind me of sand ripples. A corner of the mattress is exposed, but that’s not my concern. Right now I need to show her who’s boss―if only in the bedroom department.
Chapter Nine
Cleaner
KAYLA
Lucky for us Frankie took her own sweet time bringing over my clothes. It gave Boyd and I the chance to explore what we’ve got. I also had time to shower and make a batch of pancakes. I guess sex―great sex―brings out my creativity.
We’re sitting round Boyd’s table, Frankie with a cheesy grin on her face, snatching glances at me and Boyd, again and again until I tell her to quit. Boyd’s dressed, but now that I know in glorious detail exactly what he’s covering up, my imagination is tying my brain in knots.
While I was showering and making pancakes, Boyd shut himself in the bedroom and called Amelia. It was a long call. He needed to apologise, make her understand it was his problem, not hers. I’m guessing she gave him a hard time. Boyd hasn’t talked much since.
He didn’t like my pancakes. I think I need to practice on that front. He’s currently eating oats and fruit and, God, what is that? It looks like something that’s rotted inside its own skin.
“What?” He catches me looking and I gesture to what’s in his bowl. He frowns, trying to figure out what’s got me looking so disgusted. “The prunes? You don’t like them?”
“If that’s what they look like, then no, I don’t like them.”
He shakes his head unimpressed. “Gotta eat more fruit, babe.”
Frankie chokes on her drink. “Oh my God, you’re calling her babe?! That’s so sweet.”
Boyd is positively scowling and I can’t help laughing. I bet he’s never been called sweet in his life.
“Don’t you need to get home?” he asks.
“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll hang here for a while longer.” She offers him a saccharine smile and pops a triangle of pancake in her mouth.
He’s still scowling, but there’s a suggestion of humour at the back of his eyes. “What’s Mace up to today?”
“Oh, you know, mostly sleeping. He didn’t get in until eight. There was a problem with the alarm system.”
Boyd nods. “That’s a shame. I thought he might want to come over and play on the X-box.”
I look up, my mouth hanging open in astonishment. We spent last night and this morning having rampant sex and now he’s ready to toss me aside for video games?
Frankie cottons on before I do. She laughs at my expression and now she and Boyd are sharing a moment and they’re both laughing at me.
“Ha ha, Boyd! Very funny, I don’t think!”
I grab one of those gross prune things from his bowl and toss it his way. It hits him slap, bang in the centre of his chest. Unfortunately, he’s wearing a white t-shirt, only it’s not so white anymore. There’s a purple smudge at its centre. Boyd stares at it for a second before catching my gaze. I know where this is going and I scoot back in my chair.
“Boyd, no!” I rise to my feet, squealing when he follows. I’m laughing, holding out my arms to ward off his advance while Frankie chews on a slice of pancake, enjoying the show.
“I think it’s time you went home, Frankie,” Boyd calls over his shoulder.
“Boyd!” I can’t believe he’s being so rude. “You can’t say―”
“It’s okay. I’m gone.”
I watch in open-mouthed shock as she waves us goodbye and lets herself out.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?!”
“Clothes off.”
“I’m not ...”
He rugby tackles me to the floor.
“God, what is it with you and the kitchen floor?”
He doesn’t answer. He’s too busy unbuttoning my jeans.
*****
I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve had sex, but it’s enough that I’m a little sore. Boyd’s energy seems limitless, while mine has crashed and burned. We’re watching TV, me horizontal, him upright with my head on his thighs. His fingers are running through my hair and my nerve-endings are enjoying the tiny thrill of each subtle tug. I’m about ready to doze off. The vibration of his phone registers before the ringtone kicks in. Boyd answers, his voice deep and relaxed. “Hey, Moll.”
Five seconds into the call his tone shifts from lazy to attentive. Concerned and just a little bit curious, I sit up with my legs crossed while Boyd continues his conversation with Molly.
“Okay. Take a deep breath. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”
I tune in while he alternates between listening and reassuring. He’s good at this, but I’m not sure it’s working. I know this for sure when I hear him say, “Stay where you are, Moll. I’m coming over.”
His gaze swings my way, checking my reaction. I’m not sure what he wants from me, but I nod. He hangs up and rubs the back of his neck. “You okay if we go see Molly?” he asks, sounding resigned.
“Sure. Is she okay? I mean, I guess she can’t be if you want to go visit.”
“She’s not feeling great. She does this. She’ll be okay for a while and I’ll think she’s on the mend, but it only takes one small thing to set her back. This time it’s Harry’s parents. They want to sell his apartment. He owned it and Molly lived with him, but she has no claim on it. Not that it’s about the money. The flat holds memories for her and she doesn’t want to let it go. They’re not giving her a choice. They’ve asked her to move out by the end of next week.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah. The thing is, I’ve met Harry’s parents and they’re decent people who probably have their own reasons for wanting rid of the apartment. It’s a shame Molly can’t see that.”
I nod and sweep my tongue along my bottom lip, where it’s tender from all our kissing. His thumb comes up to brush it.
“Your mouth’s swollen. Maybe I should kiss it better.” I don’t query his logic. His kiss, when it comes, is light and brief. I have to reach up for another. Seems Boyd is happy to comply.
We grab our things and while Boyd’s searching for his keys I search for mine. I’m hoping he’ll give me a lift home after we leave Molly’s, so I can save on the cab fare.
Boyd owns a black SUV. It’s clean, as in it’s spotlessly clean. There are no receipts in the door compartments, no loose change in the cup holders. Even the windows are streak free and inside there’s a subtle smell of sandalwood. I guess his car’s his pride and joy.
All those times Boyd and I went out, I was always the one driving. Now that it’s the other way round it feels weird, though I have to say he looks good behind the wheel. He’s a big guy and the SUV fits him well. He’s also a good driver; a little fast, but not so fast that I’m grabbing for a hand-hold.
Molly’s waiting at the door to her ground floor apartment, her face tear-stained and swollen. She seems surprised to see me, but her smile is friendly enough. Her living room is filled with photos of Harry, some freestanding, others hanging from the wall. The largest is a photo of him standing between Boyd and Tag, the three of them in uniform with their arms hooked around each others’ shoulders. Harry’s face is square, with kind eyes and red cheeks. He may have lacked Boyd and Tag’s presence, but he looked like a nice guy.
Molly curls up on a chair, frail and elegant, while Boyd and I sit side by side on a snuggle chair; it’s a squeeze, with his big thigh pressed up against mine. Molly’s eyes linger on us with curiosity. I realise the last time she saw us Boyd and I weren’t exactly getting along. Suddenly self-conscious, I scoot to my left, only there’s nowhere to go.
“You two seems to be getting a
long better,” Molly says with a smile. “You’re still working for Jack, Kayla?”
“Uh, no. We’re just ...” I’m not sure what to say and I scramble around for something that doesn’t sound like we’ve spent the entire weekend having sex. “I, uh, I clean for Boyd. Once a week. He was about to give me a lift home when you called.”
She raises an eyebrow and I add to my lies with another. “My car’s not working.”
I can feel Boyd tensing at my side and Molly switches her attention to him. “Thanks for coming over, Boyd. I know I only lived here for a few months before Harry died, but it’s home and it reminds me of him.” Fresh tears surge from her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I can’t move on.”
Boyd goes to her immediately, squatting in front of her chair, resting his hands on top of hers. “Hey, Moll, you’re doing fine,” he says.
Her eyes flash to mine for a second, her mouth twitching as if she’s withholding a smile. It’s gone in a heartbeat, maybe faster, and I can’t be certain it was ever there, but I’m unsettled.
Her eyes are back on Boyd now and he’s calming her, slowing her tears until only two sparking droplets remain. This time it’s Boyd who works wonders with Molly and maybe I’m missing something, but it seems his touch is more consoling than his words.
I’m left alone for while. Once she’s calmed down and the tears have dried, Molly wants to show Boyd a problem with her shower. I sit alone, listening to their muted conversation and the occasional sound of running water. When they return Molly’s eyes are brighter and there’s a tinge of pink to her cheeks.
“Boyd fixed it,” she says.
I shoot Boyd a dubious look, but he doesn’t bite. What do I know? Maybe he was a plumber in a previous life.
When it’s time to go Molly hugs me and tells me not to work too hard. I’m about to ask what she means when I remember my lie. “I won’t,” I promise, fingers crossed behind my back.
Out in the car, Boyd seems in no hurry to go. “You’re my cleaner?”
I try to read him, but the sun’s low and his expression is inscrutable. “I couldn’t exactly tell her we’d been having sex all weekend, could I?”
“You could have said we were hanging out.”
I snort. “Are you kidding me? Since when do you hang out with females, other than to have sex with them?”
His mouth twitches. “You have a point there.”
He starts the engine and pulls out into the street.
“Would you mind dropping me at mine? Save me getting a cab?”
We travel two feet before his foot hits the brake and the SUV comes to a halt. He turns in his seat, his frown telling me he’s not happy. “You want to go home?”
“Uh, yeah. I have work tomorrow ...”
“So?”
He’s glaring at me now and my temper’s waking from its slumber. I asked for a lift, not a pot of gold or a diamond necklace. “So I’d like a lift home if that’s okay?”
“You don’t want to stay at mine?”
“That’s not what I said. I just thought―”
“Well, you thought wrong. Here’s an idea,” he says, resting an arm on the wheel. “How about you stay at mine and I take you home in the morning?”
“Oh.” Is that what this was about? Him wanting me to stay?
“Was that a yes or a no?”
I smile and brace my hands on his thighs and lean in for a kiss. “That was a yes,” I say.
He runs his fingers through my hair and gazes down at me. “Are we good now?”
I nod.
“Okay, buckle up.”
I do as he says. Just as I’m pulling at the belt a flicker of movement from Molly’s house draws my attention. Only there’s nothing to be seen. The windows are empty, their panes gold with the evening sun. I’m thinking it must have been a bird or maybe a cat, but as we drive away I catch sight of the large rectangular mirror hanging in Molly’s living room. It shows Molly standing behind the curtain, her back to the room.
It’s nothing. And yet it is. My heart’s beating faster and I want to tell Boyd, but what’s to tell? Molly was watching us from the window?
Yeah, way to be paranoid, Kayla!
Boyd leads the way up to his apartment, holding my hand as I trail behind. It’s been a long weekend in a good kind of way. Actually, the best of ways.
Later, exhausted and yet craving him once again, I have to admit I’m too sore. I tell him this while my hand is edging down between his thighs. He seems to like this; me rubbing his dick, him arching his hips off the mattress. His breathing becomes fast and low and his hand grips mine when he comes with a groan and a curse.
Chapter Ten
Life Story
KAYLA
It’s my first day in my new job. I have to remind myself that I’m not crazy for switching career directions, that I’ll make an excellent Media Accounts Executive, whatever that entails.
My first day goes without any major trauma. It’s basic stuff, like learning how to operate the phone system and familiarising myself with their IT set-up. I’m given a small handbook which sets out the company ethos. Page one is entitled ‘Strive to be Better’. My cynicism kicks in, but by the end I’m hooked. The company is all about achievement, but its number one priority is its staff.
There’s no dress code here. I can pretty much wear what I want, though there’s a short paragraph about not showing too much skin. Excellent. Like I was going to wear my short shorts and a crop top. From what I can see, most of the staff here are wearing jeans and a casual top, but there’s one girl who stands out. She’s wearing black from head to toe, including died black hair and Goth make-up. Her name’s Violet and she’s maybe in her mid twenties. She’s the IT Geek. That’s her official job title. Like I say, it’s a young company, though there’s Shelley, the office manager, who’s around sixty. She’s wearing orange lipstick and outlandish clothes that are kind of cool. Her silver hair is worn in a straight bob and she looks like an aging model, her bone structure razor-sharp. I think her name’s Shelley. There’s too many names to remember, but they’re listed in the handbook. I plan on taking it home tonight so I can learn them off by heart.
I’m on the phone most of the morning, taking messages. Half the staff are out attending a workshop. I email them their phone messages even though I don’t understand what half of them mean. Hopefully it’s only a matter of time before I pick up the terminology.
The office is situated within a modern block that’s shared with other small start-ups. There’s a canteen downstairs and that’s where I take my lunch. I’m biting into chicken and pasta when a guy says, “Mind if I sit here?”
I’m halfway through saying ‘sure, no problem’ when I realise he’s already sitting down. I glance up. The guy has a beard and blue eyes. The exact same beard and eyes that belong to that guy from the party. Charlie. Charlie Smith. He doesn’t look surprised to see me. Maybe he scoped me out when he was in the queue.
“What are you doing here?”
I swallow the last of my chicken before answering. “I just started working for PLN. You?”
“Shit, you’re our new Accounts Executive?”
“Uh, yeah. You work there too?”
“I’m their Senior Marketing Exec. There’s two of us. I’m the best.”
I know he’s joking by the humour in his eyes, but somehow I know he’s also telling the truth. “Small world, huh?” I say, hoping he’s not going to be an ass. Not that he doesn’t have reason to be, the way Boyd and I behaved.
“Yeah, you could say that. You left the party early.”
It’s only been a week, but it feels like forever. I was single at the party. Now I’m with Boyd and I know it’s only been a matter of days, but I like what we have. I like him.
“I, uh, I had to be somewhere.”
“Yeah? Same as Jack had to be somewhere? I saw him leave soon after you.” His eyes are warm and carefree. He’s making small talk, not being
judgemental.
“I guess I put on a bit of a show for you, huh?”
“You livened it up that’s for sure, but I left with someone so I wasn’t disappointed.”
“You did? And there I was thinking you’d be pining away for me. Mind if I ask you who you left with?”
“Hattie.”
Her name draws a blank.
“Blonde hair, big lips and even bigger ...” He thinks twice about finishing his sentence. Maybe because we’re in a work environment and he doesn’t know me so well. He shrugs and finishes with, “You know what I mean.”
I give him a knowing smile. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“So, you and Jack ... What’s going on with you two?”
“We’re kind of together.”
“Kind of?”
“I mean we are. Since last weekend. I already knew him. I mean, it’s not like I just met him or anything.” I don’t know why I care what Charlie thinks, but somehow it’s important.
“Hey, I’m not judging you, we’re good.” He smiles and raises his water bottle. “I think I’m gonna like working with you, Kayla.”
I smile and raise my glass.
The afternoon passes quickly and I’m reading through a generic staff email when I realise everyone’s packing up. It’s five minutes after five. I look around warily. It’s my first day and I don’t want anyone to think I’m clock watching.
Charlie stops by my desk on his way out. “You’re good to go. We don’t work beyond five. The boss figures we have a problem if we need to work late.”
“She does? Wow, this keeps getting better and better.” I shut down my laptop and pick up my bag, saying goodbye to Violet as I pass her desk. She stares at me and Charlie, her face stiff and unsmiling. Just when I think that’s all she’s willing to give, she offers me a faint smile. Charlie’s not so lucky. She ignores him, same as he ignores her and walks to the lift without once glancing her way.
“Uh, you and Violet ...”
We’re waiting on the elevator. He looks my way and raises his eyebrows. His way of telling me to mind my own business.
