Chapter 13
Thomas stayed for dinner. The descriptions of Jasper and Arabella’s supper had made both of us hungry. I couldn’t offer him roast quail but rustled up tomato soup and grilled cheese on toast instead.
‘The letter still doesn’t explain Jasper’s behaviour,’ said Thomas, dunking a piece of cheesy toast into his soup. We were sitting at the kitchen table, having a discussion about the memoir. ‘OK, he hates the pox because of what it did to his family. But why is he playing a game of cat and mouse with Mercy? Why bother?’
I slurped a spoonful of soup. ‘Because he’s an alpha male who likes to feel powerful and gets off on seeing her squirm. Back then, men ruled the roost. You know that. Women were seen as breeding machines or tossed aside once they’d been sullied.’
‘So he plans to sully her?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so, but she definitely needs to watch out. He’s a real piece of work.’
‘You’ll have to keep reading and let me know how it goes with Jasper.’ He paused. ‘And with Jeremy.’
I ducked my head and concentrated on my soup.
Thomas left soon after saying he had an early start in the morning. That was fine with me. I didn’t particularly like the idea of sharing my bed with him. But if he’d wanted to stay, I would’ve said yes. But I slept like the proverbial log without giving it too much thought.
The next morning, I was rifling through my wardrobe, looking for something to wear to work. But nothing seemed right. I yanked boring top after boring top along on their hangers until I came to the designer work dress that I’d bought in a moment of confidence a while back. When I’d modelled it for Eleanor and Lily one evening, their mouths had formed twin O shapes.
‘Anna, you can’t wear that to work,’ Eleanor had said, sounding shocked.
‘Why not? It was in the business wear section of the shop.’ It was a black bodycon number that ended at midthigh, with a keyhole neck. Honestly, it looked more a dress you’d wear to a nightclub. But I liked it.
‘Because it’s inappropriate,’ replied Eleanor.
‘Oh, don’t be so stuffy, Nor. It looks amazing on her. And there isn’t a dress code, is there?’ Lily argued, ever the defender of inappropriate clothing.
Eleanor had cocked an eyebrow, looking me over. ‘No, but what kind of “business” would she be conducting in that?’
Her comment had put me right off, thinking the dress was too slutty and I’d poked it into the back of my wardrobe, thinking I’d save it for a date evening, then never went on a date.
I held the dress up and looked at it, wondering if I dared. My mind flashed back to yesterday afternoon in bed with Thomas—his deep brown eyes boring into mine as he touched me, murmuring how sexy I was, how much I turned him on. My confidence rose. If I wanted Jeremy to see me as something more than a boring research assistant, I had to change it up.
Fuck it,I thought. Why not? Let’s get slutty.
I wore my knee-length beige trench over the dress, effectively concealing it, but my black heels and glossy tan back-seamed stockings were very much on show. By the time I reached the faculty, I’d garnered at least half a dozen double takes. My confidence grew further. I was turning men’s heads! A nervous excitement fluttered in my gut as I wondered what kind of reaction I’d get from Jeremy. I’d never flaunted myself so brazenly before, and the thought that I might actually snag his attention made me giddy.
Another image of Thomas materialised: the soft smile he’d given me as he’d leaned in and given me a swift kiss on the cheek before he left. I quickly pushed it aside.
This wasn’t about him. He knew my deal from the start. I doubted very much if he was even thinking about me.
Of course, wearing a sexy dress to work to titillate Jeremy was one thing. Actually, having him see me in it was another. We had no meeting scheduled for today. Becca had the morning off visiting the dentist, thankfully. So I was alone in our office. I glared at the Jeremy hotline, willing it to ring. Come on! Was I going to have to spend ages on my hair and make-up and wear this dress every day for the whole week?
I was indulging in a pleasant day dream about Thomas and how nice our time together had been when the Jeremy hotline rang.
I swiped the receiver off the cradle. ‘Hello?’ I said breathlessly.
‘Morning, Anna. Could you pop in for a quick word?’
Jeremy’s sexy, self-assured tone sent endorphins speeding through my veins like crack cocaine.
‘Of course. See you in five!’ I exclaimed a little too loudly.
He hung up without replying.
I drew a large shaky breath and stood, my palms sweating. This was it. My summons. I checked for mascara smudges, reapplied my Cherry Blaze lipstick, and blotted, smacking my lips together on the folded piece of tissue like a crazed guppy.
Wobbling slightly in my heels, I made my way down the hallway, wishing there was a full-length mirror so I could check how I looked. Perhaps I should veer to the ladies’. But I’d said I’d be there in five minutes, and I didn’t want to annoy him by being late—not when I wanted him to desire me.
I rapped, and Jeremy told me to come in. As per usual, he was absorbed in his laptop. He waved me over without looking up. I started on my short journey to the chair opposite, trying not to trip over the rug and the stacks of books lining my path like a runway. I wondered if he was this untidy at home. Just then, I noticed Jeremy had ceased reading, and his gaze was focused on my high heels. I froze like a burglar caught in a spotlight. His eyes travelled slowly up my stockings, traversed my torso, and kept inching higher until they lingered on my bust area and finally reached my face. My body felt seared, like he’d gone over me with a blowtorch. From his impassive expression, I couldn’t tell what Jeremy was thinking. But one thing was certain: he’d definitely noticed the dress.
I sat down quickly with a nervous ‘Morning. You wanted to see me?’
Jeremy seemed to shake himself out of some kind of daze.
‘Ah, yes. It’s about the interviewees for Becca’s job.’ He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘I’ve narrowed it down to Lucy Flanagan and Peter Wilson. The other girl didn’t have strong-enough data analysis skills, and as you know, I have high standards.’
A starburst of pleasure erupted in my chest, knowing he included me in that ‘high standard’. I said eagerly, ‘I think Peter would be ideal. His referees both remarked on his attention to detail.’
Jeremy’s eyes dropped to my Cherry Blaze lips and said thoughtfully, ‘Hmm, I still think Lucy would be better. She ticks all the boxes.’
Grrrr. No!
‘I don’t agree,’ I said pointedly, and Jeremy looked taken aback as I didn’t normally challenge him.
‘Why?’ he asked.
I didn’t have a good answer to that other than ‘I’ve finally gotten you to notice me. There’s no way in hell I want Irish Lucy stealing your attention’.
I opened my mouth and shut it again.
There was a short but tense silence as I battled to find a suitable reply that would suffice. During this time, Jeremy was displaying a rather pertinent interest in my dress, especially the keyhole bust area. I hadn’t experienced this level of attention from him before. It was strange and somewhat unnerving. A slow flush of heat washed over my body. Jeremy’s eyes flicked to mine, and I caught my breath, drowning in twin aqua cenote pools. Dear God. He truly was too beautiful to bear.
‘I trust your d-decision. Well, I … I should get back. Lots of work to do,’ I stuttered.
‘Right. Yes, me too,’ he said in a clipped professional tone.
Hastily, I got up and skedaddled towards the door. ‘Good luck with the ...’ I said, turning and managing to catch him staring fixedly at my retreating bottom. ‘Interviews,’ I finished weakly.
Shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it, feeling slightly faint. Bloody hell. If I’d known Jeremy Trelawny was a sucker for a little black dress, I could’ve saved myself two years of anguish!
After the encounter in his office, I couldn’t concentrate. I was meant to be cross-referencing some data, but all I could do was stare at my screen blankly, replaying how Jeremy had undressed me with his scorching eyes.
I felt his presence smouldering down the hall, like the end of a lit fuse slowly sparking its way towards a pile of dynamite. Was he really going to overstep the boundaries of our working relationship and ask me out? I could hardly believe it. But the heavy anticipation in the air lent a sharpening to my senses. Something was going to happen.
At half past four, there was a ping as an email dropped. When I saw it was from Jeremy, with the subject line ‘Wednesday evening?’, I almost had a heart attack. The fidget spinner I’d been playing with flew out of my hand and hit the opposite wall with a bang, just above Becca’s head. ‘Jesus!’ she exclaimed. ‘What’s with you? You’ve been jumpy all afternoon.’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
I waited until Becca had left for the day and clicked on the email. My heart was thumping so hard I could feel it in my throat.
Anna, are you free Wednesday evening? I thought it might be nice if we had a dinner discussion for once. There’s a nice little French bistro not far from here. Let me know and I’ll book a table.
A joyful squawk, not unlike a seagull would make upon discovering a half-eaten packet of fish and chips, emitted from my lips. I left a suitable amount of time before I replied (six minutes and six seconds), then typed back in a flurry,
Hi Jeremy,
Yes, I’m free Wednesday evening. Ooh Italian, sounds wonderful, I’m totally up for it!
Can’t wait,
Anna
I promptly deleted that message before I accidentally sent it. I sounded like a right eager beaver! No, the sensible thing to do would be to reply tomorrow morning and make him sweat all night, wondering what my answer would be.
But would that leave him enough time to book the table at the bistro? What if it filled up between now and tomorrow morning, and he decided that it was too much effort to book somewhere else and changed his mind? I knew I’d be kicking myself for not replying straightaway.
Fuck.
So I typed,
Yes, I’m free Wednesday evening. Sounds good,
Anna
Then I sent it before I could overthink it.
I had white fluffy clouds cushioning my feet as I walked home in the setting sun, hardly noticing the ache in my arches from wearing high heels all day.
Thomas was right: Jeremy did feel something. Our planets were aligning. Finally.
Underneath my elation was a small niggling worry that after reading about Mercy’s disastrous supper with Jasper, I was setting myself up for the same disappointment. But it was a book written over two centuries ago. It had nothing whatsoever to do with me. This was simply sweet karma, gifting me for being patient and steadfast in my love.
My phone buzzed, and my stomach flipped when I saw it was Thomas. I was popular today.
TTTE:Hey, do you want to meet up Wed night?
Me:Hi, so Jeremy invited me to dinner Wed night.
TTTE: Wow, what did you do?
Me:I may have worn a sexy little black dress to work.
TTTE: Lol. That will do it. Good to see old Jeremy has got eyes after all. Where is he taking you?
Me:French bistro.
TTTE: Oooh la la. So what about Tuesday then?
Me:Sorry can’t, I’ll be doing a complete body overhaul.
TTTE: Hahaha. I’d say that about one of my bikes but not about you. You look great Anna. Just be yourself.
I released a deep breath. Maybe he was right. Why rush around like a headless chicken and stress myself out?
Me: OK, thanks. That’s reassuring. I was feeling exhausted by the thought of all the prep work.
TTTE: Trust me you’re well prepped.
I blushed a bit at that. I was thinking of what to say when another message popped up.
TTTE: You’ll be fine. This is what you want. Go get him! Message me if you need a pep talk on the night.
I frowned. Thomas was being really good about this; he didn’t have to give me moral support, but I was grateful all the same. Maybe he felt responsible since I knew Eleanor.
Me: Are you sure?
TTTE: Yeah, I’ve got nothing else to do so I might as well make myself useful.
Me:OK, thanks, I know I’m going to be nervous.
There was a part of me that wanted to see Thomas again, but I didn’t think it was wise to fit him in for another practice session.
And Thomas, since he hadn’t suggested meeting up tonight, obviously didn’t think so either.