Chapter Three

Derek and I walked into Morgan’s Champagne Lounge only a few minutes late. The place was buzzing as people stood chatting, laughing and drinking at the wide wooden bar. Waiters in black tuxedos and neat bowties moved around carrying silver trays heavy with canapés and flutes of champagne.

I stepped in and stood a fraction behind Derek’s wide body. A gut-twisting nervousness wound through me and I suppressed a sudden wave of nausea. What if my dress was hugely inappropriate after all? What if people laughed at little Ashley Jones trying to look sexy and feminine? Perhaps the stockings and shoes were going too far, maybe they made me look like the office tart instead of the office mouse. I knew which I preferred.

Derek turned to me and smiled. He handed me a flute of sparkling bubbles that misted over the top of the glass and dampened my hand. “Cheers,” he said, clinking rims. “Here’s to another successful year at Safe as Houses.”

“Yes, cheers.” Urging my hand not to shake, I took a sip and glanced around. There were more men than women in the room. But the half dozen or so women, mostly older than myself, all wore dresses of varying clinginess and party colors. I noticed Rachel from the Huddersfield branch, ten years my senior, looking elegant in a figure-hugging purple number and her hair piled on her head in a chignon. Her shoulders were set down and her head tipped as she spoke with a smile.

Watching her, my own shoulders relaxed. As I set them down I felt the arch pull in the small of my back again. It felt nice, as if I was proud of my body. Hell, I was. I’d just looked in the mirror. With my new curves I was a similar shape to Rachel. Why shouldn’t I stand tall and proud? The nausea and nerves subsided and I took another sip of champagne, holding out my little finger like I’d seen ladies do in the movies.

“I’m so glad the merger with Camilla Homes has happened this year,” Derek said. “It’s incredibly beneficial for the company. I’m pleased to have seen it happen before I go.”

“Go?” I asked, snapping my attention away from Rachel and the arch in my back. “What do you mean go?”

“Ashley, poppet. I’m sixty-four, sixty-five on New Year’s Day. I’ve decided to retire. Janice and I have always dreamed of a cruise and the appeal of days out on the golf course has been growing for some time now.”

“But, but there is so much more I thought you wanted to do at Safe as Houses.”

“Well, there is more I want to do, you’re right. But not at Safe as Houses. Out in the big, wide world. Retirement is an adventure, not just for me but for Janice too. She’s been planning a whole host of things to keep us young and occupied over the next twenty years.”

I looked at his eyes, sparkling with enthusiasm. “Well, in that case I’m very happy for you. But of course I’ll miss you terribly. You’ve been a great boss.”

“And you’ve been a great employee. You’ve always got your head in the computer working hard. But I’m sure I’ll be in to say hi to everyone from time to time.” He took a mouthful of his drink. “But I don’t want a big fuss, a party or anything, so Ray Burgess is going to announce my retirement at the end of tonight and then I’ll hand over quietly to my successor during the holidays.”

I couldn’t imagine going into work and not seeing Derek there. Not having him lead meetings in his firm but gentle manner. Who else would make the effort to bring in cakes and fizz when it was someone’s birthday? Who else would be so understanding about the need for an occasional “duvet day” when the weather was horrid and Monday morning just too much to handle?

“Derek, Derek, how are you? So glad you made it through the blasted weather.”

Ray Burgess, owner of Safe as Houses, stepped up and pressed his hand onto Derek’s shoulder.

“Hi, Ray,” Derek said, smiling.

“And who is this?” Ray turned to me. He was the same age as Derek, with thinning hair scraped back over his balding crown. He too, was pot-bellied and his tie had pictures of tiny houses on it. On the roof of each house a mini LED flashed like one of our little alarm boxes.

“You must remember Ashley Jones,” Derek said. “She joined us here last year.”

Ray’s gaze slid down my body, over my chest, my hips and to my shoes. “No, I can’t recall that we had the pleasure of being introduced,” he said, returning his gaze to my face just before I was weirded out by his gawp.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Burgess.” I remembered us being introduced the year before. But what was the point in arguing? I clearly hadn’t been memorable.

He smiled and shook my hand, wrapped it entirely in his hot, slightly damp one.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a loud voice boomed from the doorway right behind us. “Would you all please take your seats for dinner?”

Gratefully I extracted my fingers from Ray’s and turned. The head waiter was gesturing toward the restaurant opposite the bar.

“Come on,” Derek said to me. “Let’s go find some seats.”

“I want you to sit at my table,” Ray said to Derek. “I need to pick your brains about a few things before you-know-what.” He winked exaggeratedly.

Derek nodded. “Sure thing,” he said, stepping away from me with an apologetic smile.

The ripple of nerves in my chest turned into a wave of panic. If Derek was sitting next to Ray then who would I sit next to? I moved with the crowd into the restaurant and glanced at Rachel—she was nice, perhaps I could sit with her. But she was laughing and linking arms with Jeremy, the team leader from Cheltenham branch. My eyes searched the room for someone else familiar. Chairs were being scraped on the floor and the hum of conversation increased as people settled themselves at the dozen or so large, round tables.

I gulped back the last of my champagne. No one else seemed to have a moment’s hesitation about where to sit. For them it was like putting on a pair of slippers or making a cup of tea. Effortless.

For me the urge to run, to turn and flee, was like a primitive instinct. Why the hell was I here? I should just go to my room, read about Tobias’ kinky wedding night. Find out what it would be like to be tied to the bridge of a yacht and have a sexy millionaire squeeze orgasm after orgasm from me.

I fiddled with the heart pendant resting just below the hollow of my neck. Run or stay? Run or stay? There were hardly any unclaimed seats left. My gaze scanned the room, flicking over the large plumes of Christmas flowers standing centrally on each table and the tinsel strung around the picture rails.

Suddenly I spotted a free seat at Rachel’s table, two places away from her. I remembered all my heroines. None of them would turn and run from a room of people when there was a free seat.

Bracing myself, I tilted my chin and stepped toward the table, praying that no one would beat me to it. My hips rolled as I walked and the warmth of the room settled on the exposed upper mounds of my breasts. As I approached the table, the person who would be sitting between Rachel and me turned and looked straight at me.

My heart stuttered. It was Shane Galloway. The delectable Shane Galloway who’d won the overall most productive salesman of the year three years in a row. I’d admired him from afar last year and watched him dance after the meal with Ray’s wife Rose. I gulped. I was offering myself up for a mealtime conversation with a guy so out of my league he might as well live on Mars.

Shane was gorgeous in a rock-star, devil-may-care kind of way. He had jet-black hair that just touched the top of his white collar, the skin on his face was pale and his eyebrows dark and heavy. There was a sprinkle of stubble on his chin and above his top lip. Already he’d loosened his navy-blue tie and undone the first button of his shirt.

I kept putting one foot in front of the other. Felt and saw his gaze slide down my body. His attention hovered for a moment on my rolling hips before rising to my face once more. Then he was standing, standing and reaching for the chair I’d planned on claiming.

Oh god. It was already taken?

He’d intended on sitting next to someone else? He didn’t want me to sit there. He was going to move it. I was going to have to turn away.

I hesitated. Looked into his dark eyes and held my breath.

“Here,” he said in a smooth voice, tilting the left side of his mouth into a smile. “Allow me.”

If I’d thought the rush of nerves earlier was intense then this was like a tsunami. Shane Galloway actually wanted to sit next to me? Wow, the power of a red dress, fishnet stockings and killer heels.

I stretched my glossy lips into a matching smile and prayed I didn’t look as shaky as I felt. “Thanks,” I said, stepping up to the table.

He touched the chair against the back of my knees. I sat, knotted my fingers in my lap and crossed my ankles.

“Hi, Ashley,” Rachel said, leaning forward as Shane sat his tall frame back down. “You look…er…really well.” Her blue eyes were wide behind her spectacles as she absorbed my new look. “Have you been on holiday or something?”

“Er, no, no holiday.”

Everyone at the table turned to me. Even a young, pimpled guy opposite was peering around the tall floral centerpiece to stare.

“How are you, Rachel?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

“Fabulous, thanks and this is great, isn’t it? They always do such a lovely job at The Fenchurch.”

I nodded and reached for the slim glass of water a waiter set before me.

“Have you two met before?” Rachel asked, flicking her gaze between Shane and me.

“No,” Shane answered, smiling my way. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” His lips looked soft and sensual, his top left tooth crooked by a millimeter over the right one and his eyes sparkled as though full of sin. Dark, naughty, expert sin. The sort of sin bad-boy pirates and dukes intent on satisfaction had in their eyes.

“Ashley,” I said, unknotting my fingers and holding out my hand. “Ashley Jones. I’m from the Chelsea branch.”

He took my hand. Curled big, warm fingers around mine and squeezed gently. “Shane Galloway, Huddersfield branch. It’s lovely to meet you, Ashley.”

A snake of sensation washed up my arm, ran across my shoulder and settled in my chest. I pulled in a breath and was treated to a lungful of his light aftershave. He tipped his head slightly as he carried on staring into my eyes. He pulled in a deep breath too.

“I, er, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” I extracted my hand and dragged my gaze from his. If I wasn’t careful I could almost fool myself into thinking he was attracted to me. I wasn’t an expert in this sort of thing but in my books, lingering handshakes, prolonged eye contact and inhaling perfume were all connected to human attraction.

“So, congratulations,” he said, reaching for a seeded bread roll.

“For what?” I asked, watching him tear the roll in half. His fingernails were neat and perfectly square. He had a faint line on his left ring finger.

“For being employee of the year at your branch,” he said, smearing a thick wedge of butter onto his roll.

“Oh, yes, that. And you too.” I reached for my own roll although I suddenly didn’t feel hungry. There was a heaviness in the pit of my stomach like hunger but I didn’t think food would sate it. A quiet read of Pounding Without Sound would fill the gap. Marie and Travis getting it on together in the restroom of a Boeing 747 was always a good read when I needed something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Or rather, I needed to put my finger on.

“Yeah,” he said. “Personally I didn’t sell quite as much as last year because I’ve been a bit distracted.” He bit into his roll.

“Oh,” I said. “Why is that?”

He swallowed. “It’s been a crap year.” He leaned back and his soft suit jacket touched my bare shoulder. “What with one thing and another.”

“Like what?” I didn’t move away from the warm, slightly scratchy touch of his suit. It felt nice, it felt up close and personal.

He turned to me and lowered his voice. “I got divorced in March and took an unpaid month off to visit a mate in Australia, and then in September, I started a part- time university course in marketing, which has taken me out of the office one day a week.” He smiled. “Still, hopefully the course will make me even more productive in the future. It’s already given me some great ideas.”

“Well, you’ve still been top seller in Huddersfield despite taking time off and being on a four-day week.”

A waiter set bowls of steaming creamy soup in front of us.

“Yes, I came joint with Rachel, that’s why we’re both here.”

I glanced at Rachel chatting animatedly to Jeremy.

“And I’m sorry about the divorce,” I said. “It must have been tough.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “We’d only been married eighteen months. But it seemed she preferred my best friend to me so what could I do?” He bent his head over his bowl and scooped up a spoonful of soup.

I watched the way he blew gently on the liquid before opening his mouth. A small dent appeared in his cheek, then his Adam’s apple bobbed low as he swallowed. How could anyone choose someone else over him? Not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he was charming, successful and right up there with Tobias and Bret and all the others in my books. Plus, I’d bet my right arm he’d know just what to do in the bedroom. I’d bet those square fingers knew which buttons to press and that mouth knew just how and where to kiss. His ex-wife was a fool. But her loss was my gain, because here I was, little mousy Ashley, sitting next to hunky, newly single Shane Galloway.