I want to ask her about what she has just told me but I’m scared that anything I say to her or any questions I ask her will get back to her brother. I don’t know her and I can’t trust her. Instead I get straight to work. “As my intern you will need to be here each week day at nine am.”
“Yes Ms Delos,” She’s polite unlike her brother. Perhaps we will get on after all.
“You can call me Clara,” My tone is kind yet professional; slightly clipped.
“Thank you Clara.”
“You are welcome,” I smile, “I think we’ll work well together... so long as you aren’t too much like your brother...” I say it almost as an afterthought and I blush when I realise she has heard me.
“Nothing a like at all,” her smile isn’t mocking or teasing but bright. She’s genuinely happy about being different, and she’s not angry with me for my rudeness, “I’m nothing like either of my brothers.”
“Good. Then I imagine we’ll do just fine,” might as well be honest. She’s going to realise soon enough that me and her brother do not get on. “Why did you get this job? Do you have an interest in advertising?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then why?” I’m frustrated that it’s beginning to look like Andrew is just trying to get me to babysit his little sister. As nice as she is, I don’t have time for babysitting and perhaps more importantly I want him to take me seriously. I’m not Clara the girl he knew in school any more. I’m Clara Delos, an accounts director for one of the largest advertising companies in the United Kingdom.
“My brothers... they are a little overprotective. I’m twenty one. I’ve just finished university. They think that my choices aren’t...” She seems to struggle for words. I don’t think I’m the only one who is cross. “I want to be a singer but they don’t think it’s a financially viable means of supporting myself.”
“Your brothers sound very heavy handed.” I don’t know why I’m commenting. I know I shouldn’t. The last thing I should do is get involved in their family disputes. To be frank; it’s none of my business and I quite like it that way. I need to stay detached from Andrew and now Maya too.
“You have no idea.” She has no idea; I know her brother of old. I know just how heavy handed he can be. Except in the physical sense. He’s never once hit me.
I stand up and grab a file off of my desk, “I’ll introduce you to Katie. She’s my assistant. You’ll have the cubicle next to hers. If there is anything you need don’t hesitate to ask her and of course if I’m around, feel free to ask me for help.” Please don’t. I’m going to be making it my life’s ambition to avoid you and your family like the plague.
She’s nodding her head and following me out of the office. “I’ll leave you to sort out your paperwork... there’s so much of it. I’m pretty new here too... Katie,” I turn to my assistant, “this is Maya. She’ll be interning with us for the foreseeable future. Could you show her around, help her with her paperwork and perhaps show her where the coffee machine is. I’m going into the directors meeting now, so hold my calls.”
“Yes Miss Delos,” Katie nods.
“Katie,” I chastise her, “Call me Clara, please.”
“Sorry Clara...”
I nod to them both before turning on my heels towards the lift. Andrew is waiting for the lift when I arrive. The last thing I want to do is make small talk with him.
“How is Maya doing?” he asks calmly.
“Good... she’s cracking on with her HR paperwork.”
“Thank you,” he seems almost sincere, “if she becomes a pain, let me know.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I smile at him bitterly. “I always was good at babysitting.” One thing I definitely will not be doing is being some sort of intermediary between them. That is not happening.
“Clara,” Andrew looks surprised, “that’s not what I had in mind.”
“What did you think we’d become friends and braid each other’s hair?” I throw his own words back at him. I’m more pissed than I’d realised.
“It wasn’t my idea,” he looks uncertain for what I can only presume is the first time in his life.
“Perhaps not,” I’m angry and I’m not completely sure why, “but I’m still going to have to baby sit your sister. Do you know what I think?”
“No. But you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t tell me.” He’s so frustrating. He’s entertained by the situation we’ve found ourselves in; no that’s not right, he’s entertained by the situation he has put me in.
“I think you are looking for ways to irritate me further... this is all part of some plot.” I’m in for the long haul when I take a deep breath before opening my mouth again to rant, “either she’s spying on me or you are just some sort of pigheaded man that thinks he can do whatever he wants. You’ll never take me seriously, will you? I’m here to work, not babysit your sister! If you want to know how she’s doing, ask her your fucking self.”
“If that’s what you want, princess...” his teasing tone is back and the lift is full of static charge. I can feel it in my bones, for fuck sake. I don’t understand the effect he has upon me. He’s staring at me, almost challengingly and he’s definitely standing too close. His face is inches from mine and I can feel his breathe on my cheeks. I feel almost tempted to inch forward and lean up so that I can kiss him but that is completely absurd. “Are you ready for this meeting?”
“Of course I’m ready,” It angers me slightly that he doubts me.
“I only mean, you’ve had a lot to catch up on.”
“I catch up quick.”
“I know you do,” he’s smiling at me, “I remember when we used to have to do cross country and no matter how much I might be beating you for 97% of the race, you always caught up and beat me in the end.” His eyes are twinkling with humour. I don’t understand why he can’t take anything seriously.
“Yeah...” I don’t really know what to say. Truth is, if I didn’t beat him, teenage me had considered it a failure. He was the ruler by which I measured my growth. He was the stick by which I measured my tears. He was the tape by which I measured my success and he was the string by which I measured the size of my heart.
“Every time I tried harder to beat you and every time you still managed to win.” He’s pouting now and it’s quite funny. It’s cute.
“I never won at tennis.” I don’t know why I’m reminding him of all the times he’d beaten me. I’d begged my father for tennis lessons so that I might finally beat him but he’d refused. Hadn’t stopped me learning though. Eventually, I paid for my own lessons.
“No... and hockey... I always won at hockey.”
“Yeah.”
“And maths. I was better at maths.”
I need to stop him before he lists all the things he was better at than me. We’d be here all day otherwise. “But I was better at English.”
“Barely...” his eyes are twinkling. He’s so naturally competitive.
“This isn’t the career I’d pictured you in.”
“Really? What did you think I would do?” He seems genuinely interested in my response. He’s leaning towards me, an eyebrow raised, waiting.
“I don’t know... perhaps the police or something sporty,” I consider my words carefully, “you never seemed particularly creative.”
“I’m not very creative,” He’s laughing now, “to be honest; this isn’t where I thought I’d be either...”
“How did you end up here?” I ask because I’m genuinely intrigued.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Explain... please.” I have no idea how I could possibly have influenced his decision to go into advertising and marketing but I’m desperate to know. I haven’t seen him since school; I would have thought I’d been long since forgotten by Andrew Contius, popular kid.
“No. Not today.” He smirks before opening the door to the conference room where I’d been interviewed for this job. I hadn’t even realis
ed we’d left the lift; I was so focused on Andrew and our conversation.
“Maya calls you Rew...” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“What of it?” He’s so unaffected. I could tease him to high heaven and he wouldn’t care; the arrogant pillock.
“It’s just so cute,” I tease.
“You’re cute...” he smirks, “but I promise you, no matter what you call me, Andrew, Rew, Contius, bloody arse, arsehole, fuckwit... no matter what you call me, I am anything but cute.” His eyes are dark and they seem to be calling to me like a siren, begging me to fall into their depth to find my drowning death. I need to pull back. I need to restore the balance. I need to avoid him.
“I think you and your sister are cute,” I’m definitely teasing him now and it pleases me to finally have the shoe on the other foot. Perhaps if I tease him, I can get us back into safe territory where sexual tension doesn’t exist and he doesn’t have any effect upon me whatsoever.
“I’ll prove you wrong,” He whispers to me as he pulls out a chair for me at the conference room table. Glancing around the room I spot that several of the other directors have already arrived and are sat gossiping amongst themselves. They are completely ignoring us, thankfully. I do not want to be the cause of office gossip.
“Maya seems almost as irritated with you as I am.”
“I doubt anyone could be as irritated with me as you are,” he laughs gently as he takes the seat next to me at the table. I glance at the file that I’ve brought with me, hoping that if I look focused on work Andrew might leave me alone. It’s unlikely but anything is worth a go.
After the meeting with the other directors, Landon Peters, the managing director of TRW Advertising calls me into his office, “how are you settling in?”
“Very well, Mr Peters,” I smile at him. He’s got dark unruly hair and grey eyes. He’s wearing a black suit and a white shirt. His every action seems full of purpose. He takes a seat behind his desk and pulls out his phone.
“Good and Contius is looking after you?” Landon asks me without looking up. He seems distracted by whatever he is looking for on his phone.
“Yes sir,” I try to keep my temper in check, even inside my head. I don’t like feeling ignored and my boss is doing a fantastic job of ignoring me.
“Good,” Landon Peters, “and your new intern; is she settling in well?”
“I left her with a mountain of HR paperwork.” My words possibly come out stronger than I intend but Landon doesn’t seem to notice.
“Ah...” Landon chuckles, “the joys of a new job. Let me know if there is anything you need.”
“Yes sir,” I nod before turning towards the door.
“Call me Landon, Clara,” and finally he glances up from his phone, “you changed your hair. It’s darker now.”
“Yes,” I run a hand through it, “I fancied a change.” I needed a change. I needed to change.
“It suits you,” he is smiling politely at me. I imagine that Landon Peters is a difficult man to get to know, “Oh and Merry Christmas Clara.”
“Thank you Landon,” I smile at him, “Merry Christmas to you too.”
“Do you have plans?” Landon asks me, now more engaging but still remote. He’s a confusing man.
“I’ll probably visit my father,” I tell him, “You?”
“My mother is having a party tonight,” Landon is frowning, I get the impression he isn’t excited about the idea of a party, “my girlfriend and I will be going together and then we’ll be spending Christmas with our respective families.”
“Sounds nice,” I smile.
Landon grins at me, “it’ll be a lot nicer once Aurora’s plane lands.”
“Aurora? Your girlfriend?”
“Yes. She’s in L.A. with her father at the moment. Her plane is due to take off any moment.” Landon checks his phone once more. He types into it quickly, “They are boarding the plane.” He’s grinning massively now. That explains his earlier rudeness. I guess I can let it slide.
I’m just preparing to leave for the day when Andrew barges into my office, like usual. “Andrew, not now,” I complain as I pull my coat on. I glance up at him. He’s got another green apple in hand. I’m tempted to lean over and take a bite, just to see if it’s as juicy as it looks. My mouth waters at the thought. His clothes are as perfectly fitted as ever, much to my irritation. How does anyone look that good at the end of the night?
“Just wishing you a Merry Christmas,” Andrew smirks at me, but I try to ignore him as I wrap my scarf around my neck, “it’s Christmas Eve you know.” He takes a bite of the apple and I watch as he chews and swallows it. My eyes are focused on the line of his jaw. I can’t look away. At some point he has moved across the room and now he is stood right in front of me. Why does he always stand so bloody close to me? He smells so good, I breathe in his rich scent. It’s spicy; almost like cinnomen and something darker, almost like woodsmoke. It’s strange. He smells like an outdoorsy type and so seeing him in an office like this seems to go against his very being, but I think I love the sight of him in a suit. Not that I’ll ever tell him. Everything inside me feels pulled towards him but I refuse to give in. I step back.
“Obviously it’s Christmas Eve,” I frown at him. I hate how stupid he can make me feel. “I’m delighted I won’t have to see you for two whole days.”
“It’s okay,” he’s grinning like the bloody Cheshire cat, as he steps closer to me again, placing his hand on my arm. Even over my coat the touch of his hand is like fire. I’ve never felt anything like it. I gasp in shock. If he hears me, he doesn’t comment, and for once I’m grateful to him, “there’s still facebook and email.”
“I don’t plan to reply,” I tell him as I pluck his hand off my arm and drop it disdainfully. I’m frustrated with him for making me feel this way and angry with myself for feeling attracted to him at all. I’m not seventeen any more. I grew up a long time ago.
“I know,” he nods almost solemnly, “won’t stop me trying though.”
“Of course not,” I almost laugh. I wouldn’t expect anything less.
“Let me walk you out,” he smiles almost to himself, “what are you doing tonight?”
“Avoiding you,” I tell him honestly.
“Is that all,” he’s smirking. I can tell. I’m not willing to look at him but I’m almost certain that he is smirking at me. “No parties. No time with your family. Your friends.”
“That’s not the point,” I tell him irritably.
He’s no longer smirking. He’s not even smiling. All the humour in his eyes is gone. “For Christ’s sake Clara,” he’s angry with me, “I’m trying here.”
“I haven’t asked you to try,” I tell him stubbornly. He’s stepping closer once more. He pulls me closer to him; his hands burning into my forearms as he holds me tightly. His eyes are bright like angry fire and I’m scared I might get burnt.
“I’m no longer the boy that used to tease you, Clara. Believe it or not, I grew up years ago.”
“You might have changed, Andrew,” I sigh, “but you can never change what has happened.”
“Perhaps not,” his eyes are softer now, his tone gentle, “but I am sorry.”
“Just leave it please,” I’m almost begging him to drop it. I don’t want to keep dwelling on the past. He’s so close. My heart is racing. I want him to touch me again but every time he reaches for me I pull away.
His voice is harsh, “I want to kiss you.”
“You can’t,” I whisper.
“I could,” is his only reply as he places a hand on my cheek. I don’t speak. I have no idea what I am supposed to say in response.
“But you won’t.”
“But I won’t,” he nods in agreement. He roughly drops his hand from my cheek and steps away from me. His eyes look remote and distant as he turns away. He closes my office door quietly behind him and I am left feeling bereft and empty, standing there in the sparse office with a tingling cheek. This is not supposed to be happen
ing. I need to keep this professional. I pull out my phone. I need a drink. I need a friend. I send Mike a text;
Had a bit of a shit day. Can I come over? X
Sure. We’re going to be wrapping presents all night for Amelia.
But you are welcome to join us. There will be wine. X
Fantastic. I’m just leaving work now. I love wrapping presents.
Is there anything I can bring; food? Take away? X
Sarah says Indian would be great. See you shortly. X
“Has my brother left already?” Maya barges into my office without knocking.
“I can’t say that I know what your brother is doing,” I reply almost coldly.
I think my words might have upset her, “sorry. I just thought he was with you.”
“Why would you think that?” I ask her. She’s getting the brunt of my bad mood when really it should be directed at myself and perhaps her brother, but mostly me.
“I thought I saw him come in here.”
I consider denying it but that wouldn’t help my cause, “he left a few minutes ago.”
“Oh. I thought he was going to give me a lift home.” Her face is disappointed, “we’re supposed to be going to our mother’s house for Christmas.”
“Perhaps you should check his office,” I suggest.
“Yeah...” Maya smiles happily a me, “have a good Christmas Clara.”
“You too,” I smile back at her, I shouldn’t be taking it out on her, “I need to go.”
“Yeah sorry for keeping you,” she follows me out of my office just as her brother thunders angrily towards us.
“I’m waiting Maya,” he squares his shoulders angrily; at least I’m not the only one feeling this way. “We need to go.”
“I was looking for you,” Maya’s responding posture is unafraid. She doesn’t take shit from her brother by the looks of it. Andrew hasn’t so much as glanced at me. His eyes are focused solely on his sister. He’s still angry with me. No matter how much he might want to kiss me, he still doesn’t like me.
Repeating History (History #1) Page 4
