If this arrogant git thinks he can throw money at the situation, he has another thing coming.
“Excuse me, Miss?” I turn to face the waitress. “How much is his dinner bill so far? I’m going to repay the favour.”
“About 250, give or take.” She looks at me blankly. “You want to pay for his dinner?” This is going to be an expensive night.
“Charge it to my card.” I plaster a smile on my face as I hand her the card. “Can you give the gentleman a message back, please?”
“Of course.” She beams, delighted to have the excuse to talk to him again. They always are. “Tell him that, unlike all his other women, I won’t be bought.”
***
“Did you have a good night, honey?” Ben whispers in my ear as we snuggle up in bed.
His broad shoulders engulf me.
I smile at him fondly and lie. “The best.”
“Sorry the girls were a bit wedding mad; I hope it wasn’t too boring for you.”
“It was fine.” I run my hand down his manly jawline affectionately, and he kisses me softly on the nose.
He really was a great guy. He was good to look at, good to me, and good to old women crossing the street.
He was a catch, and I didn’t deserve him.
“Are you happy, Charlie?” he asks softly, his eyes full of fear and hope.
“Of course I am.” I pull him close, and we hold a comforting embrace.
Ben drifts off to sleep quickly, content with my answer. I watch him sleep, wondering why I’m feeling so restless myself.
I finally fall asleep at 4 and dream of a huge white wedding where I’m walking down the aisle,
and everyone is smiling at me, but something is wrong, and I can’t figure out what. Is my bra too tight? Is my tan too orange? Ben is at the end of the aisle waiting.
“It’s the missus.” People are shouting. “It’s the missus.”
I wake up in a sweat, jolting up in the bed. I look down at Ben’s beautiful silhouette under the blankets, and panic rips through me.
A missus wears rollers, large support bras, cashmere jumpers with pearls on them and carries tissues in their pockets. My mother is a missus. I am most definitely not.
***
Danny
“You’re late,” I mutter, watching the stunning hostess take off Tristan’s coat.
“When am I early?” He grins, handing her a twenty. “Maybe if you were a beautiful woman, I’d be on time.”
She purrs back at him, and I roll my eyes. Tristan had women hanging off him everywhere he went, bars, offices, gyms, churches…. He even had the audacity to pick up a nurse when I was in for my shoulder surgery.
He nods to the three empty glasses. “I see you’ve started without us.” “Long week,” I grimace, downing my third scotch.
I nod curtly to the waitress for the same again. Unlike Tristan, I’m not charming.
“Here’s Mathews.” He nods to the club door where Jack is being led in through the curtain. “I can always rely on him to be later than me.”
“I heard that,” Jack responds as he flashes a large smile at the hostess. With her heels, she’s at least 6 feet and almost face to face with Jack.
He sits down looking sheepish. “I did a quick pit-stop at yoga teacher Sara’s. Needs must.”
“You dirty dog,” Tristan laughs loudly. “I hope you’ve washed your hands.”
“Pale Ale, please.” Jack smiles at the waitress and winks at us. “Better wash my mouth out too.”
“Jesus, Mathews,” I shake my head. “It’s not even dinner time yet.”
“What’s up with you, Walker?” he asks as he loosens his tie. “You seemed really uptight on the phone.”
“Is it Jen?” Tristan raises his eyebrows at me.
I stare at him. It takes me a second to register who he’s talking about.
“No,” I almost laughed. Jen was not a problem at all.
“The acquisition then?” he prompts, looking at me confused. “I’ve never seen you this unnerved before.”
I grind my teeth together. Why am I so uptight?
I’d just lost a sale worth 10 million a year in revenue last week, and that didn’t faze me. What the hell was wrong with me?
“It’s not Charlie, is it?”
I give him a double look. Why’s he bringing up his sister?
It’s the end of day three of being in the same office as her, and I’m wound up so tight I’m exploding at everyone. They think I’m a monster, just like she does.
“Mate, you don’t need to worry about how I’m reacting. I get it,” He says when I don’t respond.
“She didn’t take it well, Tristan,” I sigh, wondering why I’m straying into this conversation. “Has
she spoken to you?”
“No, not really,” he shakes his head. “I’m getting radio silence which is why I know she’s upset.” He stops talking, distracted by the waitress leaning over the table placing our tray of drinks down. “Fuck me.” I watch her tight backside strut away.
“No doubt she will.” Jack chuckles.
“You did what you needed to do,” Tristan shrugs, and it takes a second for me to remember what we were talking about. Charlie. “She’ll come round. She’s just proud. It’s the first company she’s ever worked at, so she’s emotionally attached.”
“She’ll snap your offer up when she realises what a dick you are to work for,” Jack laughs.
“Doesn’t she read the papers?”
“To Danny the Destroyer.” They raise their glasses in a toast, and I roll my eyes.
“‘Walker wipes out another competitor in his quest for domination ‘was the headline last week,” Tristan chuckles.
“Don’t start,” I grimace. With every takeover, my reputation got further dragged through the mud. I was the poster boy of the evil tech industry.
“And quit with that fucking name,” I add. “It makes me sound like a comic villain.”
“Which I am, according to Charlie. She’s furious. I’ve never had any of my employees talk back to me like she has.”
“That’s Charlie, hotheaded,” Tristan chuckles, “remember she’s a lot younger than us. She’s 28.”
Hotheaded? More like downright fucking difficult. Spurting out whatever is in her head without thinking, doesn’t she know how to act in an office?
“I saw her at the restaurant last night.” My jaw tightens. “You didn’t say she was going to be there. She was about to burst my balls in the middle of dinner.”