Chapter 13 #2
‘I can’t lie, Cassie, I feel like she may be the one.
She’s just … she just has such a beautiful soul, you know?
We talk and text literally every day and she’s just this radiant light that fills me with – well – I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never met anyone quite like her … she’s amazing, so thank you.’
Hearing Kofi talk like that about my best friend nearly reduced me to tears. Sade deserved all the amazing things coming her way and I was glad that they were getting on well. Now if only I could get someone to talk about me the way Kofi talked about Sade, I’d be set.
‘You’re welcome; you guys deserve each other, you’re brilliant people,’ I said, turning back to work. I’d decided to play up my upset stomach throughout the day and leave at 3.30 p.m., giving me plenty of time to get ready for tonight.
At lunch I decided to send Theo a text through the OuiMeet app instead of through Instagram this time.
As endearing as our informal chats were, due to his boundaries I wanted to try and keep things as professional as possible.
The last thing I wanted was to fall for him completely, only for him to keep me at bay.
Being rejected by a sex worker was not something I ever wanted inscribed on my epitaph.
Hey Theo, hope you’re well. I’m looking forward to tonight. :)
Just something plain and simple. Nothing too flirty for now. I’d be saving that for that evening.
‘Ooh … d’you know what? I think I may take off a bit early, if that’s OK, Kofi?
My stomach’s been cramping up all afternoon.
I’ve been taking painkillers and trying to ignore it, but it doesn’t seem to be going away – I’m so sorry.
’ I exaggerated the dramatic arch of my ‘aching’ back, really laying it on thick.
It had finally hit 3.30 p.m. and I’d already wrapped up everything I needed to do – including setting up a quick meeting with Jeff next week.
Honestly, the anticipation for tonight was getting unbearable; I was buzzing to just buckle down and start getting ready.
Besides, thanks to staying on top of my meds, I was actually feeling way better.
Not that Kofi needed to know that just yet.
‘Aww sis. To be honest, you shouldn’t have even come in!
I didn’t wanna say it earlier but you don’t look one hundred per cent,’ Kofi replied, looking concerned.
Oh great. I quickly scanned my face in the nearby mirror – I didn’t look that bad, did I?
I made a show of doubling over in my seat, adding a bit of a wince of pain for dramatic effect.
Kofi leaned over to see if I was OK, to which I replied I was.
After switching off my monitor, I bade him farewell and to have a great weekend, before slowly ‘hobbling’ out of the office, semi-crouched over.
All I needed to do was to keep up the ruse until I hit the elevator, and then—
‘Oh, hey!’ I heard a man’s voice to the left of me, booming down the corridor.
It was Jeff again, mug of coffee in hand as he walked in my direction.
I wondered if he showed any of the other members of staff this much attention?
I was still trying to figure out whether I should have been bothered or flattered by his interest in me, but now wasn’t the time to figure that all out.
I just wanted to leave as soon as possible.
‘Oh! Hey … hey, Jeff, how are you? Is there something you need? I was just about to head home early for the afternoon – the stomach bug is still bugging unfortunately.’ I chuckled meekly as I rubbed my belly, pretending to wince at its touch.
Jeff genuinely looked concerned as he followed my hands to where I’d perched them on my tummy.
‘Oh, that’s awful, I’m sorry to hear that!
Wait here a second, will you? Let me just put the mug in the staffroom quickly—’ he lightly jogged over to the staffroom at the opposite end of the corridor, leaving me standing near the elevator, confused.
After a moment, he trotted back, seemingly out of breath.
‘I think it’s good you get yourself some rest. I was gonna say, um—’ Jeff pressed the ‘down’ button for the elevator as we both waited awkwardly together.
‘I’m actually heading out for a meeting at a spine clinic in Fulham.
I remember you saying that you lived in Vauxhall or Nine Elms or something?
It’s on my way to the clinic, I’d be more than happy to drop you home.
It’ll save you having to wait for the bus or walk too far. ’
Right on cue, the elevator arrived – and out poured a small army of no less than twelve or so people.
The chaos bought me a few precious seconds to think.
Was Jeff overstepping by offering me a ride home?
Would I be crossing a line by saying yes?
Or was this just peak Nice Guy? behaviour?
Did he have an agenda? And more importantly – did I really want him knowing where I lived before I even knew his coffee order?
I had about ten seconds to decide, because the elevator had emptied and was now staring us down like, ‘Well? You in or what?’
We both stepped into the elevator and as it closed, I replied:
‘Um, yeah … sure! As long as it isn’t out of the way or anything. That’s very kind of you, Jeff, thank you.’
‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ he replied chirpily.
Maybe he was just being a nice colleague after all.
We walked in silence to the staff car park and to his car: a dark-green Range Rover.
Nothing fancy, then. Jeff opened my door before going round to his, and after giving him my postcode, we set off home, with me mostly sitting in silence as Jeff talked about his upcoming meeting at the spine clinic. So far, so innocent.
‘I’ve been working with that clinic for the last three years,’ he told me, ‘and I find it so frustrating how they always seem to deliver biopsies and frozen sections late. It’s absolutely unacceptable, so I think this meeting with the clinic manager and the owner should hopefully change things, but to be honest if it doesn’t, I may have a chat with you during our meeting next week about potentially doing research to find a list of new spine clinics with their own labs in London, if that’s OK? ’
‘Yep, that’s totally fine. I’ll remember to make a note of it, thanks,’ I said, distracted by the utter cleanliness and organisation of his dashboard.
He had a bobble-head Jesus figurine centred on the cream-coloured dash, with a compartment above the gear stick that included a spare iPhone charger, a packet of chewing gum, hand sanitiser, lip balm (Tatcha lip balm, nonetheless!) and a small tube of Rituals hand lotion.
In the air-conditioning tab he also had a Rituals car perfume stick.
A woman’s touch, perhaps? Although I didn’t want to assume.
I couldn’t see any evidence of children in the car – no loose crayons, empty juice cartons or games consoles to be found.
I wondered if he did have a family and, if so, what they were like.
No, Cassandra. That wasn’t the aim here. The aim was to get home and get yourself slut-ready for the handsome man due at your place this evening. I had all week to think about Jeff’s private life.
A few minutes later we arrived at my flat. As Jeff parked outside and switched the ignition off, he turned to face me, his eyes boring into mine. Weird. I suddenly felt anxious; what was going on?
‘I really do hope you feel better, Cassandra; you’re a highly valued member of the team,’ he said, his eyes lowering to my lips as he spoke, which put me even more on edge. You could have cut the tension in the car with a knife, and all I wanted was to run up into my flat.
‘Ahh well, thanks so much – Jeff. That means a lot. I’m sure I’ll be fine once I’ve had some rest,’ I replied, forcing a small smile.
My hand headed towards the door handle – then froze.
A weight settled on my shoulder. I turned around, startled to find Jeff leaning towards me; his face suddenly far too close and his hand now softly squeezing my shoulder.
My stomach dropped and ice shot through my spine. What the hell?
‘Umm, sorry but what do you think you’re doing?’ I replied, horrified and mentally making a note to report to HR as soon as possible. This was NOT OK.
‘Oh, I’m, I’m sorry I … maybe I mistook the signs. I thought—’ Jeff jerked back as if burned. His words tumbled over themselves as he scrambled back in his seat, the colour draining from his face.
He looked genuinely mortified; as he should. I couldn’t believe this had happened.
‘Signs? Signs where?’ I stuttered, trying to control my emotions.
I didn’t really know how to react; all I wanted was to be at home.
I continued, ‘I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression, Mr Paulson, but I was under the impression that our relationship was purely professional.
I would like to keep it that way,’ I said, gathering all the maturity and professionalism I had in my arsenal as I turned towards the door and slowly let myself out.
‘No, yes of course. That was inappropriate of me, Cassandra. I’m sorry, I … yeah. I hope you feel better soon,’ he said, his voice shaking. I’d barely slammed the car door shut before he tore off, tyres screeching as he fled the scene.
I ran into my flat, feeling more annoyed than anything.
I didn’t believe that I’d given off any vibes of liking him and, if so, why would he even think to act on it on company time?
Work was going to be incredibly awkward; I pondered whether to seriously approach it with HR.
He hadn’t hurt or abused me in any way, and I suppose it was just crossed wires as he said, but still …