Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Philip pouted and arched a brow as if he didn’t believe me. I could feel the anger build up inside. I vaulted the soaking wet tissues right at him.
‘It’s not mine, I said!’ I could hear the thunder behind my voice.
Eyes wide, Philip grabbed the soggy tissues, then threw them directly back at me. I dodged out of the way.
I paused, noticing the large orange stain on his pristine white shirt, and held my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh.
Philip glanced down.
‘And now you owe me a shirt!’ he hummed, dabbing at the stain, but smiling under his pretence at anger. ‘It’s Armani, in case you were wondering!’
We paused for a few more seconds, then I began to giggle. He joined in, shaking his head.
‘I don’t suppose you want me to take it off?’ he said, his voice much lower now. ‘You could give it a quick clean for me?’
I shook my head, reaching for the dirty dishes as originally planned. ‘I don’t suppose you want to be hit by a shoe again?’ I replied, smirking before taking the plates through to the little office kitchen.
I was scraping the leftover Chinese into the bin when I heard him enter. ‘I can help you with that,’ he said and I sensed him walk up behind me. Next, I could feel his warm body press against my back. His hand lowered to mine clutching the dish.
I felt my breathing change, as I clung on to it. Short, shallow breath took over me, and I stood rigid, completely unable to move.
‘Ella?’ Philip said softly.
I turned slightly towards him; his face hung over my shoulder, his dark eyes stared back to mine, and I felt goosebumps travel down my body.
‘No. It’s fine. I got this, thanks. I have a certain way I like to wash them anyway.’
He pulled a face of amusement. ‘OK.’ Then he headed back out the kitchen.
I stood there for a few more seconds, catching my breath. Why does he make me feel like this? But I allowed the feeling to pass, before eventually returning to the sink, where I began double washing, rinsing and drying off the plates.
*
When I walked back to my desk, Philip was resting his arms on top of it.
‘You opened the drawer again, didn’t you?’ I crossed my arms suspiciously, feeling my red neck return.
‘I didn’t!’ He held his hands up, then shrugged. ‘OK, I had a little peek. But can you blame me? I’m just trying to understand when you have the time at work.’
I sighed loudly, unwilling to engage in a discussion about sex toys with Scotland’s biggest playboy.
‘Oh, come on, tell me!’ Philip pressed. ‘Do you take it to the bathroom? Oh , wait. I get it!’ he announced as if he had just solved the identity of Jack the Ripper. ‘That beast is why you have so many late nights “in the office”, isn’t it?’
I shook my head, unimpressed. ‘Yeah, that’s it. I hang out in my office when everyone’s gone home for the day, hoping the cleaner catches me with a huge purple dildo inside me.’
‘Rarrrr .?.?. Risqué! I like it.’
My eyes bounced to his.
‘It was a gift, OK? I don’t want it; I don’t plan on using it. That’s why I stuffed it in a drawer.’ I held my hands up, embarrassed.
‘Oh, a gift, that makes sense then,’ he agreed. ‘It’s funny because I was actually swaying between the roses or a butt plug for some time.’
‘It was from my friends, not a man. It was more of an inside joke gift.’ I blushed at my inadvertent double entendre. ‘And I don’t want to talk about it.’
He grinned, staring at me from a few metres away.
‘Look, I should go. I’ve had a long day,’ I said. ‘Thanks for the takeaway, I appreciated it.’
‘Sure. Let’s head. I’ll walk you down,’ he replied.
I lifted my jacket, my bag and the flowers, and we steered towards the lift.
‘So, when are you free?’ he asked as the doors pinged open and we stepped inside.
I felt tension between us as the doors closed over. It was such a small space.
‘Philip .?.?. I .?.?.’
‘Ella,’ he replied cheekily, making me sigh.
‘Look, I don’t know why you’re pushing this. I’m not the girl who will fall at your feet or find your sense of humour witty or charming. I’m not into dating right now, and even if I was, guys like you aren’t what I’m after.’
‘Wow. Thanks for clarifying.’ He smiled. ‘And what type of guy am I?’
I stared at him.
‘C’mon, I’m curious.’ Philip crossed his hands over his body, awaiting my reply.
‘OK,’ I said, slowly. ‘Well, you’re a rich, successful man.’
‘Such a red flag, I know,’ he interrupted, tutting sarcastically.
‘Women call your phone all the time. You don’t seem to do serious relationships and .
.?.’ I paused, feeling my breathing quicken again as he glared down at me with his stunningly beautiful eyes.
‘Look, if you think this is some sort of chase, and that’s the reason you keep coming back or doing nice things for me, I promise I’m not interested.
I’m one hundred per cent never going to date you or have sex with you.
’ I paused, then looked up at him. ‘Like ever!’
Philip burst out laughing and slapped his chest hard. ‘Ouch!’
‘I’m sorry, I know it’s harsh, but I don’t want to lead you on.’
But as the elevator door opened, I remembered my promise to Zola and Katy for the Dicktionary Club profile. Shit!
‘I mean,’ I sighed, turning to him. ‘I suppose we can have one proper sit-down dinner or something, if you like. But it will be my treat, as a thank you for securing the exhibition. My friendship is all I can offer you.’
I stepped out into the lobby, but he didn’t follow me. I turned back to see him leaning against the back wall of the lift, his arms crossed in thought.
‘Friendship?’ he repeated.
I nodded back. ‘Yip.’
‘Like best friends?’ He smirked.
This man was infuriating. I gazed back, unimpressed. ‘Seriously, please don’t push it!’