Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 13

*****

I wake to sunlight streaming over the bed. My view is blocked by Ryan, standing over me, offering me a mug.

“You like coffee on a morning?” he asks.

“I sit up to take the mug from him. “It’s one of the food groups.” I grin.

When was the last time I woke up in a man’s bed?

He sits by me, sipping from his own cup. He doesn’t speak, but repeatedly, his glance strays my way before he looks away again, smiling.

The obvious question finally looms. “What time is it?”

“Ten to eight.”

“Jeez! I’ll be late to work!”

“Hey, calm down. I’ll drive you there.”

“I can’t go like this….”

“The shower’s through there….”

As it is, Ryan delivers me on squealing wheels to Haswell Building at two minutes to nine,

And as I swipe my entry card, James Alexanders is coming in right behind me. He must have seen Ryan drop me off and he wears the kind of half-smile that says he knows exactly why I am wearing yesterday’s blouse and a rapidly painted-on expression of dignity.

“Morning, Kirstie.”

“Morning Mr Alexanders.”

*****

That evening, walking the dogs on the beach, Ben jogs up to me, and Scruffy barges in to meet up with my canine gang again.

“Hi.” he puffs, bending to rest hands on knees for a minute as he catches his breath. “How are you? Great to see you again.”

“I’m fine.” In truth, I am a little uncomfortable. The speed, and for that matter, the direction in which my ‘relationship’ with Ben is progressing is unnerving me. He seems to believe that we are a lot closer than I do, and I am not at all sure that I want to take things with him any further.

What’s a safe topic of conversation?

Oh, yes….

“I was surprised when I met Charlotte at work and realised who she is. You and your brother aren’t much alike, are you?”

He frowns. “Sorry? You’ve met my brother?”

“Yes, I saw him with Charlotte in the lobby a few days ago.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. He must have been picking her up.”

“Er, no. They were on their way out actually. I would never have taken the pair of you for brothers….”

“I don’t think we’re that unalike, are we? I know he’s a lot blonder than I am….”

Blonder?

“No, the man I saw was dark; much darker-haired than you. “

He shakes his head. “Mike’s blond, very blond. He looks like something from a toothpaste advert. You know, the kind with the sunshine-healthy family, all corn-fed, and eating wheat germ and yoghurt.”

Mike….? Not James then….

Time to tread carefully….

must be my mistake. I saw Charlotte with a

you saw. It was the Haswells. Beth Haswell is

my mistake

to shut my

axles. The Charlotte I met

for changing

“She seems nice.”

“I suppose.” Ben shrugs.

Doesn’t he like her?

very pretty isn’t

so. She’s a bit

out laughing. “You don’t

eyes slide sideways.

*****

enters the lobby.

heart sinks as

Oh, God. It’s him….

friend from the Club. Am

This could be embarrassing.

me, his brilliantly blue-eyed gaze sweeping past

slows, turns

seem rude,

yes. We met two or three years

then his face clears. With the most charming of smiles, he stabs a finger at me.

and grins. “Ah, Kirstie.” He laughs. “I see. Nice to meet

is not related to this amazing looking man fucking my brains

need to check with anyone if you have an appointment

worry.

friend said

You’ve met him

just the other

grins. “Was

yes. He was

hear it. He’s a good man; one of

isn’t he. If you cut him in

around.” He heads back to the lifts, turning back as the doors open,

What a great guy….

Shame he got married….

*****

very good. But I prefer to get out for a while for a change of air, so I head for the coffee bar over the road,

my lunch, staring into space and pondering the incandescent joys of fucking with

look up. It’s Charlotte, carrying

brightly. “Hi,” she says. “Mind

at all.” I shuffle up my chair to make space as she puts her

mind?” she says as she seats herself. “I saw you from across the road and thought we might as well take the

“Sure…. er….”

eyes me over her coffee.

my words. What can

know Ben’s your

not shut up about you whenever I’ve

dates. Please don’t get the wrong impression about where we are with

“I don’t think it’s my impression that you need

from above

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