Hooked By Love (8 page)

Amber

‘So after yesterday’s catastrophe, you’re actually inviting
another
O’Neil to the office,’ Jennifer said, sitting on my desk with her one arse cheek, and sipped her tea.

‘I felt immensely guilty about being the cause of yesterday’s cock up,’ I said, dropping my eyes to my feet. ‘But that prick was insufferable. You have no idea.’

‘Oh yes I do. I spoke to him outside when I went to check for post and he was practically dry humping me,’ she revealed.

I felt better for it, because I was worried that my colleagues would think me daft for using sexual harassment as an excuse.

‘He did?’ I asked, sipping my weak tea.

‘Uh-huh. If he had looks, you’d understand why he thinks he’s God’s gift, but Jesus, did you see that gut hanging over his belt? I wouldn’t sleep with him if he bought me a yacht.’

I watched her work her statement over in her head, which was hilarious.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Maybe for a yacht … but first I’d have to self-medicate.’

I had to laugh. Jennifer always entertained me with her sexual deviancy.

Just as I started to respond in kind, the rain arrived. It came down hard, but I liked it. The cool air from the street and the garden floated up through the reception’s doors and brushed over us in the office, smelling of mud and wet tarmac.

‘Ooh, I wonder if our landlord will still come in this downpour,’ Jen said.

I stood and walked over to the window on the off chance I might see him arrive. Across the street, I could just about make out a figure standing behind the old oak tree. I hoped there wasn’t any lightning for their sake. I turned my back to the window.

‘Don’t you have work to do?’ I teased, but I actually wanted to get rid of her so I could dolly up for Josh’s arrival. Since I already wasted a very sexy look on his idiot brother the day before, I had to maintain the same level of appeal for the
right
brother.

‘Yes, I have a few new cases to open,’ she informed me. ‘Is there any point, since we don’t know whether we’ll even be around in a few weeks?’

‘Of course. The music plays on until the very end,’ I said, the image of the stoic band members from
Titanic
popping into my mind. It actually caused my eyes to well up.

‘Okay, I’ll leave you to fix your attire to be more …
accommodating
for the rich boy … if he shows up,’ she said wiggling her brows and left my office, which was now almost back to its original mess after we’d had to look for an old folder the night before.

There wasn’t much I could do to look better. On my salary, I could barely afford more than one business-like suit, so I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, which was embarrassing, but I had to look decent. I told my colleagues that I liked the cut of the raiment so much that I owned two of the same shirt. It amazed me how much I actually lied every day, if only to save face. What a sad state of affairs.

After I fixed my face to a satisfactory level, I took the liberty of walking out to the staircase, in case our guest showed up. The crisp breeze felt wonderful on my face and chest. It whipped my hair back like a girl in a shampoo advert and my eyes fell closed in ecstasy as I enjoyed the waves of moist air caressing my skin.

‘Now that is a sight to behold, Miss Cross,’ a male voice said.

I tore my eyes open in a start.

Down at the landing in the reception, Josh stood with a mischievous grin on his face. His straight dark hair, wet from the rain, hung down to his collar. I almost had a heart attack when I saw him. Never had I seen a man so perfectly beautiful, rugged as he was. From under black, angry-arched eyebrows, his ethereal eyes stared up at me.

‘Oh my God,’ I inadvertently uttered.

‘Not quite, but I’m working on it.’

My pulse raced, and my soul sang hymns to his handsomeness. Only then did I realise how my hand was furiously clutching the banister to the point of pain. Behind him, the doors shuddered like my body and the thunder roared in the distance. I imagined the heavens announcing the advent of an angel, but when he ascended the steps, I was pulled out of my romance-novel silliness and composed myself.

‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away.’ I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks. ‘I love rain.’

‘Really? Me too. It’s the best time to curl up in bed with a good horror movie,’ he told me matter-of-factly.

I refrained from imagining him in any bed so I could speak.

‘Absolutely,’ I replied. ‘Amber Cross, in the flesh.’

I stretched my arm out to shake his hand.

Why did you say that?
my inner voice slapped me.
‘In the flesh?’ Really?

‘And I am honoured to be in your presence, Miss Cross,’ he played as he shook my hand. His hand was warm and held mine a little longer than necessary, or at least that was what I wanted to believe. Instantly, my attraction to him went beyond his money or his looks. At a loss for an explanation, I trusted him completely. I couldn’t believe he was related to that oafish cretin, Craig.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ I asked, hoping he’d give me a different answer from the brute I’d had to endure. I gestured for him to follow me to the small kitchenette.

‘Anything you have will be fine, thank you, Amber,’ he replied, taking time to peek around the call centre’s doorway to see what was there.

I looked at Jennifer and widened my eyes at her. She knew what that meant and she nodded with a thumbs-up. Opening our fridge, I took out the carton of apple juice and poured us two glasses.

‘You sure have a lot stuffed in there,’ he said looking at the cramped fridge where we all kept our lunches and drinks.

‘Yeah,’ I said sheepishly, terribly embarrassed by our meagre means. ‘But it’s all we could afford. Joe’s Appliance Hub in King’s Cross gave it to us.’

‘When was this?’ he asked me as he eagerly received his juice.

‘A few years back, when we were starting out.’

‘That’s unacceptable,’ he muttered.

My defensiveness returned, but then I realised he wasn’t being an arsehole.

‘I’ll have to see about getting you a proper fridge for the kitchen. We can’t have you getting all hot and bothered in the summer heat without something cold to cool you down.’

My senses swooned and I just stood there, grinning like an idiot, but I could do little else.

Keep talking
, I told myself.
If he already has a helpful attitude, I might be able to get through to him about the eviction.

‘Would you like me to show you around?’ I asked cordially.

‘Lead the way,’ he said and I wondered whether he could see my heart slamming through my tight blouse.

‘As I told your brother yesterday, we offer workshops, one on one counselling as well as over-the-phone. We’re one of the few charities that facilitates so many branches of social assistance and psychological counselling,’ I said, repeating the information I’d given Craig.

‘You said that things didn’t go to well with my brother?’ he asked me out of the blue.

Stunned at the blatant enquiry, I worried that bringing in the personal stuff would sabotage what I was trying to recover here.

Reluctantly, I obliged his question. ‘He, uh, he was a bit rude.’

‘Sounds like him,’ Josh agreed and sipped his juice.

‘Let’s just say, he’s not the most respectful person towards women,’ I pressed a little to let Josh know why things had gone wrong, but I didn’t want to say too much and look whiny or unprofessional, so I left it at that.

‘You’re very perceptive.’ Josh winked. ‘The man is a womanising maniac. I regret sending him in my place, but an emergency came up. I hope he didn’t offend you too much.’

‘Nah,’ I lied again.

Josh scrutinised every office, listened to the counsellors, chatted with the volunteers and generally had a fun time with everyone. I couldn’t believe how different he was from his brother.

Kat walked in for her appointment a few hours later and stopped in her tracks when she saw Josh. While he was talking to Paul about pop music, I glanced over to her and could have sworn she’d added a smile to the gesture of sexual awe she was making behind his back. Lip-talking to me, she implied I should ‘jump his bones’.

Unintentionally, I laughed out loud.

‘What’s funny?’ Josh asked, narrowing his eyes at my amusement, but I just shook my head.

‘Just laughed at one of our people. They have quite the sense of humour around here, regardless of the problems they all have to deal with,’ I assured him.

‘A sense of humour is pivotal to modern survival, let me tell you. And speaking of modern survival, I have to get back to work,’ he replied genuinely.

I walked him down to the reception area and he thanked me for the tour and our ‘excellent cultivar of juice’.

He was delightful above all his other cordial traits that lifted my spirits all the way up to where they belonged. Before he left the lobby, holding the brolly we’d lent him, he waved one more time, penetrating my soul with those magnetic eyes again.

For a while, I just stood there looking at the space where he’d been standing a moment before, taking in his presence for good measure. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over me. Perhaps we once again had a chance at saving the centre.

Returning to the boardroom, I looked out over the street below. The rain was forming glimmering circles and splashes on the normally uninteresting pavement. Maybe it was just my besotted eyes seeing the beauty in everything today. Something moved in my peripheral vision and I quickly turned to see what it was.

‘There he is again,’ I whispered under my breath.

The teenage boy I’d seen before was again lurking in the shadow of the oak tree across the street. I knocked on the window to get his attention, but he ignored my efforts. Before I could try again, he was gone from sight.

Josh

I braved the pelting rain for the dash between the centre’s front doors and the cobbled alleyway beside the building, where I’d parked my car. I wasn’t ashamed to admit it but I was still completely gobsmacked.

Amber was everything I had hoped for and more. Not only was she more beautiful in person but the woman also had the charms to match her Celtic looks. I had to admit I couldn’t fight the urge to fully enjoy running my eyes over the way that tight blouse hugged her torso.

In my right hand, I held the knackered old umbrella they’d lent me to cover my head in the downpour. As I got closer to my car, I did a double take to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. To my horror, I wasn’t. All four of my tyres were flat. It was clear that the culprit had meant to obliterate them utterly. Gashes stretched like coal-black smiles across the width of two of my tyres, while the other two displayed jagged rubber teeth where they’d been eviscerated by a very crude tool.

Furious, I trekked back to Amber’s office, imagining all kinds of retribution, lawsuits and the usual fare of payback one would want to employ after such a callous attack on one’s property.

Without any care for the rain soaking my hair and drenching my coat, I dropped the umbrella and raced for the centre’s front doors. My reflection in the glass looked morose and foreboding—a tall black shadow with a dark coat that flapped like wings. I no longer looked like the suave, charming man I’d been a few minutes earlier. I was nothing more than a wet figure of misery and rage, trudging to regain entry. My socks pushed out water with every tread, damaging my shoes and no doubt turning my toes into raisin-skinned ice cubes.

‘Amber,’ I called out with as much composure as I could manage. ‘Excuse me, anyone? Can someone get your manager right now, please?’

I didn’t want her to see me as some unstable head case because something unsavoury had happened. She needed to see me as everything my wretched brother was not. But boy was it hard. I was pissed off and begging for vindication.

‘What’s the matter?’ one of the receptionists asked me. She was very attractive and quite young; a colleague of Amber’s whose name I’d forgotten.

‘I need to speak with Amber, please,’ I said with less enthusiasm.

I followed her back into the offices where I’d taken drinks with the staff only moments before and looked for the stunning redhead with the verdant eyes.

‘Josh?’ Amber said from behind me as the other girl led me into a small office.

‘Amber. I—I’m …’

Don’t say anything along the lines of ‘pissed off’
.

‘I’m sorry to bother you again,’ I said in a brilliantly executed docile tone.

‘Of course you’re not bothering me,’ she protested with concern.

‘It seems someone’s slashed my tyres while I was in here with you lovely people,’ I explained, perhaps laying the sarcasm on a bit too thick.

‘Slashed your tyres?’ Amber gasped. She was truly shocked by the revelation, looking almost as dejected as I felt.

‘Yes!’ I exclaimed animatedly. ‘All four are practically shredded by a freehand artist who deserves a good beating, in my opinion.’

‘Oh my God,’ she said, placing her slender hand across her lips.

‘Listen, can I use your phone to call the police? The battery on my phone is flat.’

I made a serious effort to maintain my composure, but I was about to blow at any minute.

‘Of course, please,’ she said sympathetically and showed me to the seat opposite her desk in the tiny, untidy office she had to work in.

I called the police to report the incident, more for insurance purposes than for any real assistance in catching the perpetrator. Amber gave me my privacy while I spoke on the phone, but she carried a look of despair.

I watched her shapely body and those mesmerising tresses as she walked away. My eyes followed her to the large window that overlooked the street. Oddly, Amber walked straight there as if expecting to see something below the window, as if the perpetrator was still there and she knew exactly where to look. Although I hadn’t known her for long, I knew for sure she would never keep such knowledge from me. Perhaps she wouldn’t disclose it to anyone else, but to me, she would. At least that was what I hoped.

After I completed the call, I crossed my legs, settling in for the long wait despite the officer assuring me he would be out soon to take my statement. Once I had a crime number, I could contact my insurance company to arrange for the towing company to collect the car and take it to a garage to have new tyres fitted.

Judging by the average police team’s swift response time for something not so urgent, I figured it would take me roughly until the end of the business day to get everything sorted out and the red tape cleared before life could return to normal. On one hand, the inconvenience drove me crazy. On the other, I got to spend more time with Amber Cross and her merry crew.

‘Josh, I feel so bad about this. Please, let me pay for your tyres,’ Amber offered.

I couldn’t stop looking at her: the manner in which her nose twitched, the way in which her pristine eyes glinted and the softness of her clear silky voice.

‘Josh?’ she repeated, catching me staring for a tad too long this time and snapping me out of my silent admiration.

‘Don’t worry about the tyres, Amber,’ I declined gracefully. ‘My insurance people will have it sorted in no time. But thank you for the offer.’

‘I insist,’ she pleaded. ‘I feel terrible about the whole thing. If you hadn’t come here, this wouldn’t have happened.’

‘Seriously, don’t worry,’ I said, but she remained adamant to correct the problem herself. It struck me then, what my soul secretly found attractive in hers: she had a hero complex, though it wasn’t intentional. She was the type of person who took the world upon her shoulders to save or help others, whether she got help doing so or had to do it all herself.

‘What kind of car do you drive?’ she asked, taking control. She scooped up the earpiece of her phone with one smooth movement like the pro she was and waited for me to answer. ‘I need to know the make and model to get a quote.’

Knowing she could never afford to buy me new tyres, I gave a small shake of my head, hoping she wouldn’t find my reaction patronising or condescending. Above all, I thought it awfully sweet of her to step up like that. From what I knew of women, and I knew a fair bit, I was perfectly aware that you should never treat an efficient and assertive woman as if she weren’t in your league. It wouldn’t be wise to make her feel as if she didn’t know what she was talking about, and who was I to deter her from her mission?

‘Um … it’s an Aston Martin. A 2015 model,’ I said casually as if I were driving a Volkswagen Beetle. ‘Make sure they quote you on the right diameter and tread depth.’

Amber blinked a few times while the rest of her body and face froze in place. It looked like she was processing the information and then switched to a brain function that controlled responses that avoided awkward moments. I didn’t want to laugh, but she looked so cute, struggling with the devastating information.

‘An Aston Martin? Jesus, I could feed myself for a few months with one of those tyres,’ she mumbled to no one in particular. She replaced the handset and ran her fingers through her wild locks, revealing the shape of her face and allowing me to appreciate the full picture of her beauty.

‘Amber, I’m kidding about you getting the quote. None of this is your fault. And you certainly don’t have to pay for it. I categorically rebuke your insistence,’ I said in my best Christopher Lee impression to keep the situation light hearted, tactfully shifting the blame to dig her out of her embarrassment, and it worked swimmingly.

‘But you’ll want the police to investigate this as a crime, won’t you? We don’t even know if the person responsible is from here,’ she lamented. ‘Josh, I’d rather get a loan to cover the cost of the tyres than have police officers scaring the kids.’

I gave it some thought. Regrettably, the O’Neil way was normally opportunistic. The O’Neil way was to manipulate, even without hostility, circumstances that could be advantageous. However, I thought of a way we could settle this to benefit both parties.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ I said. ‘If you let me take you out to dinner, I’ll forget about this whole thing. I won’t get the police involved in this brutal, and expensive, case of vandalism.’

Her head lolled to one side, her expression caught between humour and distrust.

‘Really?’ she asked. ‘That’s it?’

I nodded. ‘But I’ll need a chariot to get us to my favourite restaurant. Are you keen?’

‘Josh, I have a modest Mini,’ she disclosed with no small measure of embarrassment.

‘Yes, but your modest Mini has functioning tyres, so it far exceeds my Aston Martin, does it not?’ I said, alleviating her worry.

‘That’s a good answer, which deserves some accommodation, I believe.’

I called the police back and retracted my complaint, then phoned my insurance company. Within half an hour, my car had been collected and was on its way to Prestige Car Services. I waited for Amber to gather up her things and close the office for the day. She looked awfully reluctant to lead me to her Mini, but I assured her I was only too grateful to have a lift to our destination.

‘So, sir, where may I take you this evening?’ she asked playfully as she started the little car.

‘Get on Prince Albert road, Jeeves,’ I replied, entertaining her jest. ‘And then head straight for the Avant Garde on Ledbury Road, thank you.’

She laughed, but I noted her pleasant surprise at the mention of such a posh place.