Chapter 6
6
Over the next couple of days, they managed to maintain a friendly, but business-like atmosphere between them, although Lula made sure to leave the room as quickly as was polite so she didn’t have to deal with the weird, tight ache in her chest that appeared whenever he did.
Tristan’s revelations about his aversion to marriage and recent split from a long-term partner had sealed her decision not to get further involved with him.
Clearly, he wanted different things in life to her and no way was she going to be his rebound woman – she’d been through the humiliation of that before and wasn’t prepared to do it again. They always seemed to go back to their exes as soon as she settled into the hope things might work between them.
And he was her boss, which made up the triumvirate of a no-go.
She had a duty to protect herself from any relationship that was destined to bring her more pain and loneliness. She’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime .
It didn’t stop her from wanting him though, which was a bit of a problem when she had to see him every day.
She’d quickly got into the routine of her new show, and even though it left her both mentally and physically drained, she’d never been happier with that part of her life.
The whole atmosphere at Flash had changed since Tristan had stepped into the breach. Everyone seemed less guarded and more relaxed than when Jez was in charge – which wasn’t surprising as the man had had a unique gift for getting people’s backs up.
She was desperate that no one at the station should find out what had happened between her and Tristan though and terrified she would give herself away when she was near him.
It had been bad enough when the whispers had gone around about her succumbing to Jez’s ‘charms’. Any time someone had so much as mentioned her and Jez’s name in the same sentence she’d wanted to bury her head in the ground in shame. It had caused a really uncomfortable atmosphere for a while and no one had wanted to take her into their confidence in case word got back to Jez about their grievances.
No way would she be able to hold her head high if everyone knew she’d had sex with Tristan too.
Sleeping with one of her bosses could be seen as careless. Sleeping with two was just plain stupid.
She was taking her customary time out after the show on Friday morning when Tristan came into one of the offices where she liked to hide out. Her heartbeat picked up as she tried not to notice how ridiculously sexy he looked today with his shirt open at the neck and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, displaying his strong, tanned forearms. His transformation into casual-cool messed with her head. It was so much easier to compartmentalise him when he was all buttoned up in his restricting suit somehow .
‘Hey,’ he said, giving her a nod, ‘I wondered where you got to after you finished your shows.’
She scrambled to sit up on the sofa and straightened her T-shirt, which had ridden up, exposing her midriff. ‘I like to have a bit of quiet time after I come off air – to reflect, you know? Before I start planning for the next show.’
He’d dropped his gaze down her body when she’d pulled on her clothing and when he looked her in the eye again his pupils were large and dark.
Awareness tickled down her spine.
Giving her a slow, knowing smile he walked over to the sofa and sat down next to her, so close she could smell the heady masculine scent of him. Exotic spice with the dark undertone of alpha male.
Leaning an elbow against the back of the sofa, he propped his head in his hand and studied her, his eyes roaming her face. ‘I wasn’t criticising you, just making an observation.’
Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest she suspected her body must be visibly pulsing with it. Was he deliberately sitting this close to get a reaction out of her? She had a strong suspicion he was. Clearly, he wasn’t taking their pact as seriously as she was.
She was going to have to pay him back for that.
Crossing her arms, she gave him an I know your game smile. ‘Was there something you needed from me?’
Straightening his posture, he arranged his face into a more business-like expression. ‘Yes. I’ve put out a couple of adverts for a new station manager and I’m starting to get some replies. I’d appreciate it if you’d sit in on the interviews with me. I could do with someone with experience of the industry – and this station in particular – to pick up any loose ends I miss.’
Lula’s insides did a strange swoopy thing. On the one hand she was ridiculously pleased he thought so highly of her opinion, but on the other, she couldn’t shake the gloomy awareness that someone else taking the job meant she’d never see him again.
‘Sure, I’d be happy to sit in with you.’
The atmosphere felt weirdly heavy and strained, as though all the things they weren’t saying to each other were dulling the air between them.
Or maybe she was just exhausted from a week of presenting such an intensive show.
There was a long pause in which he stared intently into her eyes, before nodding. ‘Thanks, Lula.’
That was the first time he’d called her Lula instead of Tallulah since she’d taken her job back and it made her feel inexplicably wretched.
‘My pleasure.’
She watched him get up and walk away, dejection swirling darkly through her brain.
Why did she only ever become entangled with men that she had no future with? There had been Dan at university, who had been set on sleeping with every living female on the planet, and Scott during her late twenties, who had decided to take a job in China but leave her behind. And all the other disastrous relationships in between. No one had fit properly.
And now Tristan: business-like, marriage averse and totally focussed on getting back to his life in Scotland.
She could never be with someone who wasn’t prepared to make the ultimate commitment to her. Even if he was as hot as hell. She needed stability in her life, the promise of a loving, concrete future. Not one where her partner could walk away easily if the whim took him.
It was understandable that he didn’t hold the sanctity of marriage in high regard if his father had made a mockery of it for him, but it was important to her to find someone on her wavelength. Someone who understood where she was coming from.
She didn’t want to spend her life arguing and not feeling good enough.
Stretching back out on the sofa, she folded her forearms over her eyes, blocking out the rest of the world.
Ah well. Life went on and so would she. Just not in the same direction as Tristan.
Unfortunately.
‘So, my lovely listeners, if you could wish for a special skill, what would you choose? Be as creative as you like, but let’s keep it clean, okay?’
Tristan smiled as he listened to Lula’s show the following Monday. Since he’d taken over the running of Flash he liked to make sure he was there at the radio station in time to catch her show as it went out. He enjoyed listening to her dulcet tones as she teased and titillated her audience, keeping up the rapid momentum needed to capture busy people’s attention. He could see exactly why she was so popular with the listeners – she had a real skill at finding the interesting angle to a subject.
According to reports from the broadcast assistants there had been a huge increase in texts and tweets to the show since she’d taken over and listener numbers were already well up for the Breakfast Show.
He’d been surprised by just how much he was enjoying looking after the station too. The business he ran from Scotland was pretty dry in nature, although their turnover was substantially more than the radio station was making. Entertaining people certainly wasn’t as much of a money-spinner as installing industrial kitchens and providing catering equipment to restaurants.
Still, at the end of the day, it had to be the money that mattered – it was his linchpin, the thing that kept him focussed and motivated. That kept his world turning – that made everything make sense.
As soon as Lula’s show was over, he caught up with her as she exited the studio.
‘We have our first interviewee coming in at two o’clock. Are you okay to sit in?’
She pressed her lips into an accommodating smile, although he guessed she must be pretty exhausted after her show and desperate to get home. She was a trooper all right. He really admired that about her.
‘Sure, no problem,’ she said, pulling the headphones that he’d bought her from around her neck and cradling them in her hands.
He nodded at them. ‘How are your headphones working out?’
She gave him her first genuine smile in days. ‘They’re great. I love them. Fantastic sound quality. You certainly know the way to a girl’s heart.’ She seemed to freeze as if realising she’d said something entirely inappropriate.
He stepped towards her, not sure exactly what he meant to do, but unable to stop himself. ‘Glad to hear I haven’t lost my touch,’ he said with a smile, continuing the move by leaning against the wall next to her.
His stomach plummeted when she took a quick step back.
These little rejections were starting to get to him. They reminded him of the small moves away that Marcy had started to do towards the end of their relationship.
He wished it didn’t have to be this way with her, but since they’d made that pact over dinner about keeping things professional, she’d been friendly, but stand-offish with him .
He could understand her reasoning for it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
‘Well, I’d better get on,’ she said, raising both eyebrows and smacking her lips together. ‘Don’t want the boss to catch me slacking off, who knows what sort of punishment he might dish out,’ she murmured in that seductive voice of hers. Flashing him a cheeky grin, she swivelled on the spot and walked off, leaving him staring after her retreating figure with a bemused smile on his face and a pressing concern in his trousers.
Okay, maybe professional and stand-offish was easier to handle.
The interview was a disaster. Tristan knew as soon as the guy walked in that he wouldn’t fit the ethos of the station. He was too straight, too stuffy, too jobs-worthy.
When Lula asked him some pointed questions about his vision for the station it was clear he thought she wasn’t important enough to engage with and addressed all his answers to Tristan instead.
No way was he going to hand over the running of the station to such a chauvinist idiot.
‘What did you think?’ Lula asked after the guy left, clearly hoping he hated him as much as it sounded like she did.
‘Totally wrong. No way.’
She blew out a breath and relaxed back into her chair. ‘Thank God for that. I don’t think I could have worked with someone who treated me as if I was invisible.’
The flash of hurt in her eyes made him want to go over and pull her against him, to wrap her up in his arms and give her the reassurance she visibly craved .
This impulse must have shown on his face because colour rushed up her neck and her gaze shot away from his and down to where her hands now gripped her thighs, as if she was fighting urges of her own.
Forcing himself to maintain a fa?ade of cool, he flipped her a smile. ‘Ah, don’t let him get to you. The guy was clearly an idiot of the highest order. I suspect he’s the type who feels emasculated by smart, attractive women.’
Something sparked in her eyes and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but shut it again and gave him a grateful smile instead. ‘I’d better go,’ she said, inclining her head towards the door. ‘I’ve still got a ton of research to do on a music producer I’m interviewing tomorrow.’
‘Okay.’ He watched her get up from the chair, wondering what was going through her head at that precise moment. If it was anything like the notions he’d been conjuring up since her ‘punishment’ remark, there was no wonder she was finding it hard to hold it together.
‘Lula,’ he called out, as she reached the door, not wanting her to go yet, but aware he didn’t have a good reason to ask her to stay.
She turned and faced him again, her brows drawn up in question. ‘Yes?’
There was a beat of silence while he thought of something suitable to say. ‘Thanks again for helping me out with the interviews. I really appreciate it.’
Her shoulders appeared to relax and she smiled, as if she’d keyed herself up for something that now wasn’t going to happen. ‘It’s my pleasure,’ she said, before opening the door and striding purposefully away.
Despite the brief diversion into flirty banter, the next week went pretty much the same way as the previous one – with her still avoiding him as much as possible or keeping things polite and professional when she had to be in his company.
His frustration grew by the day and he found himself deliberately going out of his way to be in the same room as her or sit next to her whenever the opportunity arose just to feel her vibrate with the same tension he experienced whenever she was in his vicinity.
It gave him a perverse satisfaction to see her squirm. She was obviously feeling the same heat he was and he became more and more determined to get her to show it.
He needed to prove to himself that he wasn’t the sort of guy that women – that she – could walk away from easily.
They interviewed two more candidates together who’d applied for the station manager’s job, but Tristan hated both of them.
He was beginning to feel a little possessive about the station now that he was getting to know the staff better. The place had an exhilarating, ever-changing buzz about it and he was surprised to find himself less and less inclined to get back to his business in Scotland.
His second in command seemed to have everything under control there – bar a couple of things that needed Tristan’s specific attention – which was both heartening and humbling. He’d always thought things there would fall apart without him, but apparently, he wasn’t as essential to its smooth running as he’d imagined.
When his father had handed over the running of their business to him after he finished university, he’d felt the great weight of responsibility to their family legacy on his shoulders. He hadn’t realised just how much it had consumed him until he’d stepped away from it.
Despite the minor knock to his pride when he realised he wasn’t as key there as he’d thought, he felt lighter and freer than he had in a long time.
Working at Flash had been good for him.
On Friday afternoon he was finishing off the schedules for the following week when the broadcast assistant, Claire, knocked on his office door.
‘Hey, Tristan, we’re all going out for drinks this evening to celebrate my birthday, fancy coming along?’
He could tell from the colour on her cheeks that it had taken some courage to come and ask him. Even though he made sure to be friendly to the staff, Claire in particular still treated him with detached reverence.
He thought about it for all of two seconds. ‘Sure, I’d love to.’ He hadn’t done any socialising with the staff since he’d started working here and he was gratified that they’d want to include him.
Perhaps Lula would be there too tonight and he’d get an opportunity to spend some time with her outside of work. Maybe he’d get her to loosen up around him in a more relaxed environment? To show some more of that spirit that bubbled underneath the surface of her control.
Memories of how they’d loosened up the last time they’d been out together flashed through his head and a sizzling heat swept through his body.
The sight of Claire’s delighted smile dragged him back to the present.
‘That’s great! We’re meeting at eight at The Zoltan cocktail bar on Clerkenwell Road. See you there later,’ she said.
He raised a capitulating hand, still a little distracted by his erotic recollections. ‘Sure. See you there.’
Lula stood in a cobbled square in front of a row of golden-bricked townhouses with white stucco frontages and checked the text from Claire again to make sure she’d got the right place.
To the right of her was the blue door that Claire described and next to it a discreet plaque with the name The Zoltan engraved on it.
Yup, this was it.
Pushing the door open, she took a deep breath, readying herself to be sociable.
It was good for her to be here tonight. She hadn’t been out since the meal with Tristan – apart from a slobby night over at Emily’s place watching a film and drinking a questionable new cocktail her friend had concocted.
She’d somehow managed not to mention Tristan’s ongoing existence in her life to her friend, sure she’d be in for a thorough interrogation about him, which she wasn’t prepared to handle at the moment.
Quite honestly, she wasn’t even sure she’d have the energy to stay out for long tonight. Getting into the routine of regular early morning rising from Monday to Friday that the Breakfast Show required was taking longer than she’d anticipated, and having to go in each day and act all cool and indifferent around Tristan wasn’t doing much for the state of her nerves either.
The guy seriously knew how to rock her boat.
She seemed to spend most of her day in a state of sexual agitation and every time he came within ten feet of her, which was surprisingly often – in fact she suspected he was doing it deliberately to rattle her – she turned into a gibbering wreck.
But she was determined to put him out of her mind and have fun tonight. She deserved to raise a glass with her colleagues to her promotion as breakfast presenter – something she hadn’t managed to find the time to do before now .
It was comfortably dim inside, the dark red walls and long bookshelves groaning with leather-bound books adding an air of stately elegance to an eclectic mash-up of vintage furniture. It felt a bit like an eccentric, rich old uncle’s time capsule house.
There was already a large gathering of people lounging on purple velvet sofas, boxing in a long, low glass display case which was being used as a table. It had a random collection of old looking objects inside it: yellowing handwritten letters, brass compasses and a stuffed rabbit wearing a top hat.
The place was kooky as all heck.
Claire, as birthday girl, sat at the head of the table and Lula gave her a wave before going over to the bar to grab herself an orange and soda. If she even had a sniff of a cocktail tonight she’d be done for.
Lula located a bit of space on one of the sofas and slid into it. When she looked up from finding a place for her drink amongst the litter of cocktail glasses, she was shocked to see Tristan sitting opposite her, giving her one of his killer smiles.
Her insides turned to goo.
What the heck was he doing here? Had Claire really invited their boss to her birthday do? And had he accepted knowing she’d probably be there? Not that he shouldn’t be allowed to socialise with the staff, but these were her friends.
She experienced a rush of frustration with him for turning up and hijacking her night with his befuddling presence.
How was she meant to relax tonight and make intelligent conversation with Tristan sitting there looking like his sex god self in her peripheral vision?
She gave him a quick nod of acknowledgment and turned to talk to the man sitting next to her, doing her best to ignore him.
Tristan’s pulse had given an electrified stutter when Lula appeared and slid onto the sofa opposite him, but he’d been frustrated when she’d only given him a curt nod and turned away.
Well, he wasn’t going to let her get away with ignoring him all night here too.
After chatting for a while with a couple of the radio engineers from the station about who was the best live band at the moment, he disengaged himself from the conversation and covertly watched Lula over his tumbler as he sipped his Whiskey Sour. The guy sitting next to her seemed to be regaling her with a monologue that had her captivated and she didn’t once glance his way, which narked him. He didn’t believe she felt nothing for him any more. It wasn’t possible, not after the intense connection they’d shared.
She spent a lot of time listening to people, he realised, watching as she nodded and encouraged the guy to elucidate on his point. He suspected that’s what made her so good at her job.
He spent a moment sizing the guy up. He didn’t recognise him from the station so by deduction he must be a friend of Claire’s. Blood rushed to his head as he watched him put a hand on Lula’s knee. The guy clearly thought a lot of himself, judging by the way he kept smoothing a hand over his ridiculous on-trend hairstyle and lounging across the sofa as if he owned the place.
Tristan was unnerved by how protective he felt towards Lula and how frustrated he was that she was the only person he wanted to talk to tonight and she was sitting on the other side of table being openly pawed by some cocky youth who was totally beneath her.
As he watched with narrowed eyes, she stifled a yawn behind her hand and glanced round, catching his eye.
The connection between them seemed to sizzle the air as they stared at each other. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know she needed him to rescue her.
Standing up, he navigated his way out of the group and round to the back of the sofa where she was sitting.
Leaning down between her and the youth, he gave her a friendly smile.
‘Hey, Lula, how are you doing?’
Her pupils seemed huge in the muted light of the bar. ‘Not bad, but my new boss is a bit of a slave-driver so I’m pretty wiped out.’ She shot him a teasing smile, which he returned, pleased she was joking around with him again. ‘I was thinking about heading off soon actually,’ she continued, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘Need to get an early night in.’
‘Yeah? Me too. I’ll walk out with you,’ he said, standing up and waiting pointedly for her to do the same.
He missed the flirty banter they’d had between them and this was an ideal opportunity to get her on her own and talk freely without the worry of being interrupted or overheard.
Her look of surprise swiftly turned to apprehension. ‘You don’t need to do that, Tristan?—’
‘I know that, but I’m pretty done in too. I’ll walk you to the tube. I’m in an apartment in St Pancras now so it’s on my way.’
‘You’re not in the hotel any more?’ From the pink hue of her cheeks, she was evidently thinking about the night she’d spent there with him – just as he was now. Blood roared through his veins and he shifted behind her, attempting to disguise the incongruous effect the memories were having on him.
‘I thought if I was going to be here for a couple more weeks, I’d be better off renting a short lease apartment. A friend of mine owns a place in the clock tower of St Pancras station.’
‘Really?’ She widened her eyes, her interest clearly piqued.
‘Yeah, it’s a great place. Good location. ’
‘It sure is.’
There was an awkward silence.
‘Okay. Let’s go,’ he said, not wanting to give her an opportunity to back out.
She studied him for a few more beats.
From the way her eyelids flickered, he felt sure she was having another of those internal arguments in her head.
‘Okay, that would be great,’ she said finally.
After saying their goodbyes to a rather inebriated Claire, who was now happily being charmed by another of the foppish youths in the party, they exited the bar into the cool night air of the cobbled square.
‘I should have made it clear we weren’t leaving together ,’ Lula muttered, frowning hard at the door they’d just closed behind them.
‘Want me to go back and make an announcement to the bar about how we’re not going to sleep together tonight?’ Tristan teased. He was gratified to see her mouth twitch into a begrudging smile.
‘No!’ She slapped him gently on the arm, her touch leaving an echo of sensation on his skin. ‘That would really set tongues wagging. Protesting too much, and all that.’
He grinned, resisting the urge to bend down and kiss the pseudo scowl off her face and gestured for her to start walking.
After a couple of steps, she stumbled on the cobblestones and he instinctively took her arm, feeling her tense beneath his grip, but she didn’t pull away.
Her body felt warm and solid next to his and her hip bumped gently against his thigh as they walked, only increasing his desire to push her into a dark alleyway and make a mockery of his last statement.
They strolled in edgy silence as they navigated their way through the narrow, cobbled back streets of Farringdon towards the tube station.
‘Are you really living in the clock tower at St Pancras?’ Lula finally asked.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘That’s just so…’ She searched around for the word she was after, her cheeks glowing pink with the effort to locate it.
‘Pretentious?’ he supplied, grinning at her growing frustration. ‘Ridiculous? Showy?’
‘It’s just so goddamn cool . How do you manage to make cool seem so effortless?’
He snorted. ‘I didn’t realise I did, but thanks for the compliment.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘You want to see it?’ he asked, fully expecting her to shoot him down, but unable to stop himself from pushing at her – craving the satisfaction of watching her break and admit she wanted more than detached politeness between them too.
She glanced his way, her eyes wide with excitement. ‘I’d love to see it – If I’m not imposing on your evening too much – just a quick glance – I’ll run in and out – I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like in there,’ she said, her voice breathy at the end of the run-on sentence.
Her verbiage amused him. It proved to him that he still had the desired effect on her – although she was clearly determined to establish that she wasn’t after anything more than a look-see of where he was living tonight.
No funny business , her expression said.
He smiled. ‘No problem. I’m not planning on going out again this evening.’ He wasn’t making any other promises though.
‘Okay then. Thanks.’
They jumped on the tube and travelled one stop to St Pancras, joining the fast-moving crowds milling through the turnstiles and out onto the main road.
Lula looked up at the majestic clock tower of the red-bricked gothic revival building and whistled. ‘Nice one, Tristan, that’s quite a find.’
‘It helps to have friends with high places,’ he quipped.
‘Very droll,’ she said, her eyes flashing with amusement.
He let them in through the glass-fronted entrance and they walked up to his apartment. He tried not to watch her tidy behind as she climbed in front of him on her customary heels, her hips swinging in a mesmerising motion right in his field of vision.
She had such a neat figure. So perfectly formed.
He smiled at her gasp of astonishment as he opened the front door to reveal the apartment in all its glory. It really was magnificent, with its ten-meter-high ceilings, exposed brickwork and one whole wall dedicated to an enormous bookcase, filled with the brightly coloured spines of hundreds of books. She moved around the place, running her hands over the sleek modern furniture, the exposed beams, the wrought iron spiral staircase that led up to the mezzanine where the master bedroom was located.
When she turned back to him her eyes were bright with wonder.
‘Why on earth doesn’t your friend still live here? God, if I owned this place, I’d never want to set foot outside, let alone allow someone else to rent it.’
‘His wife wanted somewhere bigger after they got married. She made him give this place up.’ He rolled his eyes skyward.
She smiled down at the floor. ‘Is that a hint of disdain I detect?’
He shrugged. ‘He had a good thing going here. Now he’s living like a zombie in the burbs and kowtowing to a wife who barely allows him out in the evenings. ’
‘Hmm, definitely disdain.’ She ran her fingers over the back of a sofa, her gaze focussed on the undulating motion.
He slumped down onto the sofa opposite and watched her walk around the rest of the apartment, moving into the small kitchen diner, then back out to the living area again.
She sat down on the sofa and looked at him, her brows drawn up into a frown. ‘You know, maybe you’re different to your dad? Maybe you’ll find you like the idea of getting married once you’ve found the right person.’ There was a lilt of hope in her voice as if she couldn’t bring herself to believe that he was fine as he was. What was it with the women he met? Why did they always seem to think he needed fixing?
He gave her a tolerant smile. ‘Maybe, but I doubt it. I’ve just come out of a relationship with a woman who I thought was a perfect match for me, but I never felt the urge to marry her.’
Her face seemed pale under the bright overhead light and her gaze slid away from his. ‘Why did you split up with your girlfriend?’
Even though he didn’t want to talk to Lula about the mess his life had become, he didn’t want to lie to her either. She’d asked him a direct question so he should give her a direct answer. ‘She left me for my brother.’
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘No! That’s so tacky!’
He’d expected pity, so was heartened by her outrage. He smiled, attempting to keep things light, even though his whole body was hot with discomfort. ‘Yeah, tacky and humiliating.’
‘I can’t believe your own brother would do that to you.’
‘Well, that’s Jon.’ He huffed out a laugh. ‘It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t carried the bastard for so many years.’
‘What do you mean?’
He frowned, realising he wasn’t going to get away with just giving her vague details; she was savvier than that. ‘After our mum died, my father went to pieces so it was up to me to keep our lives on the rails. I made sure Jon had what he needed for school and that he turned up to classes.’
Lula was sitting forwards now, a look of keen interest on her face.
He leaned back against the hard back of the sofa and rubbed a hand through his hair, strangely relieved at the prospect of getting all this off his chest. ‘And then, when my dad became more interested in chasing women than running our family business, I stepped in to keep it going after I finished university. I really wanted to set up my own thing, I had grand plans, but I couldn’t see the business that had been in my family for fifty years sold off or go to ruin. My brother said he’d help me with the running of it, but he hardly ever turns up for work. He has no qualms about taking his wage and dividends though. And then stealing my girlfriend out from under my nose.’
She was looking at him with such incredulous indignation he almost reached forward to touch her in gratitude.
The air between them throbbed with tension as they stared at each other in the pause.
She broke eye contact first and smoothed her skirt down over her legs.
He bristled as he realised he must have made her uncomfortable by treating her like a sounding board.
‘Hey, I need to ask you something,’ he said, standing up and walking over to the bookcase to straighten one of the spines, giving her a moment of grace. He’d got too personal and she was evidently struggling with how to respond to his embarrassing admission.
‘Apparently there’s a Radio Industry networking event next Thursday, which Jez was meant to be attending. It’s a good opportunity to shout about Flash and maybe sniff out some more sponsorship. Assuming I haven’t found anyone to take over managing the station by then, I’d appreciate it if you’d come along with me. I could do with an expert on hand to deal with the specific radio industry questions.’
When he glanced back, she was frowning. Was it because she didn’t want to have to spend another evening in his company? Had he blown his cool image by telling her all his dirty secrets?
The thought irked him, which is why his next question came out sounding so accusatory. ‘Surely you anticipated there’d be some out of hours demands on your time?’
She nodded, her eyes big with distress. ‘Yes, of course.’
From the tone of her voice, you’d have thought he’d asked her to perform an operatic duet in top F with him. Or maybe she just felt uncomfortable about being seen on his arm.
‘Look, we don’t have to go for long and I’ll make sure I mention to everyone we speak to that you’re not sleeping with the boss.’ He gave her a jokey raised-eyebrow-and-smile combo.
She barely broke a grin back.
Hmm, perhaps it was inappropriate to keep making those kinds of jokes. His heart sank in his chest. He’d been enjoying clowning around with her this evening and elated by how close they were to stepping over the line she’d drawn, but clearly it was time to get serious now.
He walked over to her sofa and sat on the arm. ‘Look, I need to be honest with you, Lula. The station needs more sponsorship if it’s going to survive. Jez has pretty much bled the reserves dry and it’s going to take a serious injection of cash to keep it viable.’ The look of shock on her face made his stomach turn over. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I never thought it would take this long to find someone to take over the managerial position. I was expecting they’d be the one to tackle the problem of the financial shortfall. ’
Her face had taken on a ghostly white pallor. ‘I had no idea things were so bad.’
He held up a placating hand. ‘It’s salvageable. But we need to put on a confident outward appearance or the sponsors will start getting worried that they’re backing a dead duck.’
Lula drew her shoulders back and her chin up. ‘I’d be happy to go with you and represent Flash. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the station running,’ she said, her voice now dynamic and business-like. ‘I love that place. It’s got the potential to grow into something amazing. I couldn’t bear to see it die a death.’
The panic in her eyes propelled him forwards off the arm and onto the cushion next to her and he put a reassuring hand on her arm.
She glanced down at where his fingers pressed against her soft skin, then back into his face, her eyes wide and dazed.
They stared at each other, their bodies closer than they’d been since that fateful night. His blood raged through his veins and he became acutely aware of how hard he was, how amazing it would be to push her down onto the sofa and kiss her, how much he wanted to be inside her.
‘I’d better get going and leave you to the rest of your evening,’ she murmured, the breathiness of her voice doing crazy things to him.
Before he could respond, she stood up and spun on her heels, walking quickly away from him towards the door. Pulling it open, she stepped out into the hallway. She paused and turned back, fixing him with a tight smile. ‘Thanks for letting me see your place, it’s amazing.’
He had a sudden wild urge to ask her to stay, to try to reassure her that everything would be okay if she did, but before the words would come out of his mouth she’d turned and walked away.