by F. C. Clark
Returning to the coolness of the house, I prepare most of the meal, allowing it to marinate, grilling various seeds and spices, chopping chicken and making my curry paste. I leave it all in the fridge.
Swimming in the glistening turquoise water, I almost regress to France – and yet I’m at work in London. The words ‘work’ and ‘swimming in a luxurious pool’ do not belong in the same sentence.
I spend the rest of the afternoon sunbathing and swimming, feeling incredibly guilty for abusing my employer’s facilities.
After enough sun, I make my way to the kitchen to complete my meal for this evening: chicken curry.
Inside the kitchen, wearing my bikini and short denim shorts that rest on my hipbones, my seventies hair tied in a makeshift knot at the back of my head, my body continues to overheat from the sun but cools slightly, thanks to the air conditioning.
With only my thoughts to keep me company, thoughts that could do with restraining, I plug my docking station in, scanning my choice. Now what shall I play? Rihanna’s ‘We found love’ wins. With a knife in one hand, I begin to chop the onions. The other hand is holding a makeshift microphone – a wooden spoon.
The song begins to peak, which encourages my dance moves to become more graphic. However, I can hear a noise in the direction of the entrance to the kitchen. With the music playing far too loud, I’m unaware what – or who – is making the sound.
As the noise grows louder, to drown out the music and catch my attention, I realise that I’m not alone. Clapping is the noise I can hear. I turn to curtsey, assuming it’s Jerry, but…
Fuck me! You have to be kidding!
7
I can just about breathe. My vision and body remain transfixed. I press pause on my iPod before another song begins.
‘Good afternoon, Kate.’ His voice hits me. ‘I apologise for the intrusion – you look a little shocked.’
No shit, Sherlock… I muster a nod. His presence leaves me speechless.
‘I wasn’t aware that my cook was also employed as a dancer.’ His tall, muscular body leans effortlessly against the doorframe. ‘I have several issues to sort out here, at my house.’ His hands slide in the pockets of his suit trousers.
Is he confirming ownership of the house? Once again, it feels like a blow.
‘It’s you.’ Amazingly, I speak.
‘Yes.’ He looks at me, the way he did a few weeks ago. ‘I contemplated visiting earlier – yet I wondered if not knowing was more fun.’
I need to find some strength and deal with this man, who has relinquished his right to anonymity.
He moves with ease, closing the distance between us. ‘I think I should officially introduce myself.’ He extends his hand. ‘Luke Sutton.’
I place my hand in his. Holy fuck, his touch is as magnetic as his voice. Breathe, Kate, breathe – this is real, not one of your dreams…
‘Cook!’
‘From your response, I gather you have some questions.’
Too bloody right, Mr Hotshot Businessman… Anonymity, my arse.
‘Would you like to take a seat and I can answer any questions you may have.’
‘Do you mind if I don’t? As I’m rather busy preparing a meal for my… boss.’ My disdainful response lingers in the air.
‘Fair enough. I’ll sit, you can cook.’ He takes to a stool directly in front of me. His brooding dark eyes penetrate me.
Internally I’m raging. It’s him. He’s here. Holy shit.
I take a deep breath and continue with the meal. I raise my head, and our dark eyes meet for our first captivating stare. Jesus Christ. My body unfortunately responds: the hairs on my neck raise and my palms feel clammy. Being this close to him is dangerous. However, the smirk plastered across his face allows me a small window of opportunity to gain some strength.
‘Is something funny, Mr Sutton?’ I emphasise the ‘S’ of his surname, hoping he senses hostility in my tone.
‘I have to admit, watching you work in my kitchen does feel a little bizarre.’ His masculine hands remain clasped together, resting on the counter. He’s so calm!
I feel like abandoning ship and running for the hills. Yet I can’t help but wonder why I got the job and why he didn’t tell me who he was. Did he know who I was all along? Oh shit, the last time I saw him was at Vista. Stella said that my boss was taking his friend’s wife out for dinner. Was she the exotic beauty he was with?
‘I saw you at Vista.’ Oh, for the love of God, please control your verbal outbursts.
He grins.
‘Obviously you find this situation amusing. I wish I could, Luke.’
‘In answer to your question, yes, I think we saw each other at Vista. May I ask who you were with?’
No, you bloody can’t. ‘A friend.’
He continues to smirk. The effect is causing my blood to boil.
‘I can’t believe you’ve just landed this huge secret on me.’ My worst trait rears its ugly head. I can feel babbling looming. ‘I’m seriously cross that you lied to me.’ My emotions seem to be hitting fever pitch. ‘All this time you stayed away. At what point did you intend to disclose who you were, or was the whole anonymity just a game you were playing for my benefit? Tell me, is anyone else in on the joke?’ I stand with my arms folded, feeling pissed off. I bloody hope he can read my body language.
My eyes focus on him, and his dark, haunting glare bores deep into me. His lips purse and his chiselled jawline tightens.
‘Firstly, I didn’t realise it was you applying for the job until my security team ran a name check. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but if you had realised who was to be your employer you would not have taken the job… Am I right?’ Wow, he’s feisty, and sexy – I must stay focused.
‘Maybe – yes… I probably wouldn’t have taken it.’ Shit, I hate that he’s right.
‘Secondly, no one, not even Stella, knows that I have met you, or that you have the habit of leaving your underwear in a stranger’s office.’ I gasp. Fuck! ‘For future reference, I do not lie.’ He sits further back on the stool, looking vexed. ‘As you know very little about me, I will let that pass. I withheld information – I did not lie.’
‘But isn’t withholding information sort of a lie? And, no, I don’t know you well enough to call you a liar. Either way, you held out on me.’ I defend my words, feeling like an errant child being chastised.
‘No. I think you’ll find it is not the same; however, I am aware that you are a little dismayed by my presence, so I repeat I will let it pass.’
‘Oh, thanks for that – don’t do me any favours.’ Let it pass? He can kiss my arse… Who does he think he is?
‘Do you have an answer for everyone, Kate, or is it just me?’ His lips curl seductively. ‘You may visit a dark alley very shortly and meet a disgruntled employer. I believe we have discussed this…. We may have to think about pushing boundaries.’ Holy fuck, he’s quoting one of his notes.
Just as I am about to defend my honour he holds up a hand. Oh my God, I wonder what he would look like with curry sauce over his head.
‘I apologise for smirking, and in answer to your last question, I am more than positive that Margaret did not wear such an outfit whilst cooking for me.’
I look down and realise I am only wearing my bikini and low-cut denim shorts. Crap. I rush to my bag and collect my I LOVE THE SOUTH OF FRANCE T-shirt.
‘I’m glad I amuse you, Luke Sutton. And with regards to my underwear, I left it in your office by mistake. As I recall, you got me wet.’ Oh, for Christ’s sake, Kate Harper, do not speak for the rest of your life… What is he doing to me?
‘Is that from the puddle? Sorry, I needed clarification.’ He lets loose another sexy grin; it pushes my buttons.
My face begins to glow. Bastard – he really is playing an unfair game.
‘Your humour is not lost
on me, Luke. Besides, Stella said I could use your pool.’
‘Absolutely, it’s fine by me – and so is the new uniform.’ He laughs. ‘That was a joke, Kate. Don’t take offence. I thought you enjoyed my humour; I know I’ve enjoyed yours over the last few weeks.’
Again, he refers to the notes – oh bloody hell, he keeps knocking me off balance. I can’t control my mind or my body; this man is a walking aphrodisiac. Where the hell did I leave my equilibrium this morning? Kate – think. What’s the best way to leave the palace, with my respect intact? Food.
‘I assume I can serve your meal now?’
‘Yes. Would you care to join me? We can discuss any issues you may have.’ His face changes to a look of concern.
Is he kidding me? Sit with him? Talk and eat? I can’t even look at him without feeling the need to collapse in a heap on the floor… Or, worse, lay him on the island and devour his delectable body.
Be courteous and leave as soon as possible. I repeat the mantra in my head, praying the words don’t leave my mouth.
‘Thank you, but I have to work this evening.’
‘You continue to maintain two jobs?’
‘Yes.’ With my replies kept short, I’m hopeful that I’ll come to no harm.
‘I assume you have to eat.’ His voice is authoritative. Does he think he is still at work? I guess I am an employee.
‘Yes, I’ll eat tonight when I get home.’ You can do this, I tell myself. Keep calm.
‘Do they not serve food at your bar? It’ll be quite late when you return home.’
‘Yes, but I’m not into greasy burgers. That’s not my thing – I don’t see the point of putting anything in my mouth unless it’s good quality.’ Oh shit. Tell me I didn’t just say that. This is the result when I don’t filter my speech – humiliation. I look at his face as he desperately tries to hide a grin.
‘That was a statement. I’m not offering you an insight, Luke.’
He holds his hands up in defence and shakes his head. ‘I will bear that in mind for future reference.’ He stands up from the stool. ‘How long will dinner be?’
Future reference? What the bloody hell does he mean? Shit, I need to leave.
‘Ten minutes at the most.’
‘I have to make a call. I will be in my office.’
He walks towards the fridge. I watch him retrieve a cold beer. Just seeing him saunter around in his own house feels bizarre, almost like he’s an intruder. I wonder if he feels the same watching me.
‘I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.’ I try to appear normal, but what is normal in a situation like this?
I turn my back and continue to work, needing to escape Adonis’s lair; this time it’s not the penthouse office block, but the opulent mansion.
Dinner laid, kitchen tidy, I’m ready for a quick exit.
I wander into the hallway. The doors to the office are open. I gently knock and peer round. I see him standing at his desk, speaking on the phone. It must be him that brings out my desire to be laid across his desk.
He waves at me to enter.
‘Dinner’s ready,’ I whisper.
I turn and head towards the door, absorbing the only room in the house that I haven’t seen. No wonder this room has been out of bounds: it feels personal. It’s yet another enormous room, not only an office with a large boardroom, but also a lounge area with a large plasma screen.
‘Kate – are we OK?’ His voice stops me in my tracks. I turn to look at him.
‘I’m not sure what to say.’ My body feels numb. Honesty is all I have to offer.
‘Should I have stayed anonymous?’ He looks unsettled.
‘Maybe I should leave,’ I answer. He tries to speak. This time I hold my hand up, signalling for him to keep quiet. ‘Honestly, I’m shocked that the man I met a couple of weeks ago is now my boss,’ I fidget, trying to find my words. ‘Do I want to leave? No. Should I leave? I’m not sure. I’m still mad at you.’
He moves from behind the desk. Oh, please don’t come any closer, I need distance.
‘I apologise if I offended you. I had my reasons – my world appears to be unlike yours.’ He looks merciful, which scares me more than being cross.
‘I know you have made quite an impact on my house, especially my closet, which is now extremely methodical. You also feed my staff. Thank you.’ A genuine smile spreads across his stunning face. ‘Yet I will respect your decision.’
Wow, is he really concerned that I will leave? Oh, how I want to bury my head in his neck and kiss him. How can I leave?
‘I don’t think you’re a bad person, Luke, but I don’t play games. You’re right; we are from different worlds. I like a simple life and I sense you don’t.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, Kate. I don’t play games. If I see something I want I work hard to obtain it – that’s how I run my business. As I explained to you, I knew you wouldn’t have taken the job if I had revealed my identity. The first time I met you I could sense an air of honesty about you, therefore when I heard you were interested in the job, it felt like… fate.’
‘Well, I guess you’re being honest with me now, but, Luke, whether you felt you lied to me or not, please don’t do it again. You may find a disgruntled employee down a dark alley.’ My light-hearted response lifts the heavy mood. His face softens, and he offers me a dazzling smile.
I need to leave this house and him. I feel lost and sucked into his turbulent world, a world that could not be further from mine.
I return to the kitchen, as Luke follows in my footsteps. Even a simple moment like this feels strange. Another situation that I’ll need to get used to, if I stay.
Luke sits on a stool.
‘I don’t see a note, so what’s on the menu, Cook?’ Oh, he is back to the man with the cheeky sense of humour. I now wonder where compassionate Luke has disappeared to.
‘You’re absolutely right, there’s no note. So for this evening’s meal, boss – or would you prefer sire?’ My eyes glare in his direction. Don’t push me, Mr S, I am fragile and slowly losing my sanity.
‘Sire – now there’s a word I could get used to.’ He angles his head and raises a brow.
‘That is the first and last time that word will ever leave my lips.’ Oh, why did I say sire? He leaves me shocked and verbally out of depth. ‘Boss… your meal consists of homemade chicken curry, vegetable rice, onion salad, poppadums and naan bread. I must inform you this meal does come with a heat warning, so be prepared for clear airways.’
‘Thank you for the warning – it smells fantastic.’ Without hesitation, he begins to eat. Yet another moment that feels peculiar.
‘It tastes amazing – and, yes, it is hot, but a good heat.’ He looks like a normal young man who has just got home from work. Not a man who runs an empire large enough to maintain a house and staff.
‘I have to go or I’ll be late. So, I’ll say goodbye until…’ Until when? I’m not sure what to say.
‘Max can take you.’ He lifts his head, his mouth full of hot curry. My eyes meet his, wearing a similar look to that he encountered in his office.
He stifles a small laugh. ‘I thought I would offer… Don’t shoot me.’ He raises his hands.
I can’t do anything other than smile at my gorgeous and very hot boss.
‘Thank you for the offer, but I like the walk.’ With my excuse justified, I can leave.
‘Bye.’ Deep down, I wish I were staying.
‘Goodbye, Kate.’
I leave his lair and immediately text the girls.
SOS – Pete’s now. xoxo.
I’m out… I relive every second of the last hour in my head. Is he actually my boss, the Adonis, Prince Charming, the shit-hot fuckable model? This has to be a moment of madness. How did this happen, how did I not see it? Was there a sign that I missed? I can’t think o
f anything to indicate it was him, other than the Jones suits.
I walk through the door and instantly head to the back of the bar, retrieving a bottle of tequila and a tall glass. I rest on a stool, allowing alcohol to have an effect on me, willing my body to become desensitised.
‘Kate, are you all right?’ Fiona notices I’m not my usual perky self. I think the fact I just helped myself to a bottle of tequila is a giveaway.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. ‘No, not really.’ The second dose of desensitising fluid trickles down my throat.
‘Do you need anything? Shall I call Harry?’ Fiona has no idea how to deal with me.
‘I’ve texted Harry – thanks, Fiona.’ Number three is poured.
‘I don’t think you should drink any more. I’ll get you a coffee.’ Fiona squeezes my hand reassuringly.
‘What’s up with her?’ Pete looks at his wife. ‘You’re supposed to be working. Get your lazy arse behind the bar.’ Although his words are humorous, the look of death I shoot him indicates that now is not a good time for comical one-liners.
‘Just give me a minute – OK?’
‘Someone’s definitely pissed you off.’ Pete walks away, sensing an evening of female drinking, the sort of evening he won’t get involved in.
I wonder how long I’ve been here; more importantly, how much alcohol I have consumed. The liquid in the bottle has reduced slightly; however, my emotions seem to have heightened.
‘Hey babe, you all right? You look lost.’ My senses are brought back to the here and now with Kiki’s reassuring arm around my shoulders.
I reach over the bar for a shot glass ready to pour a matching de-stressing fluid for her.
‘So that’s how it is? I can help you play this little game. Drowning your sorrows, and it’s only Monday – a bit early in the week. But I can’t have you drinking alone.’
‘I didn’t think you were back from LA until tomorrow?’ At last I can function. Tequila must be working – soothing my soul.
