it all in, trying to memorise every bit to tell my daughter. With my mobile phone, I snap a few photos to show Mia in the morning. She’d be in her element in here.
When I’ve finished taking photographs, I carefully scan the room. Of Josh Wallace there’s no sign. He and Karen have disappeared without trace. Karen seems to be setting her plan to take him home with her in action already. Well, good luck to her. I have no need of that kind of thing.
I feel exhausted and yet the night is still young. It was flipping hard work talking to Kirsten Benson, I can tell you. Tyler’s wife is stunning to look at, but it was like trying to converse with a lump of stone. Perhaps it’s no wonder Tyler’s developed a roving eye. Just so long as it stops roving in my direction sometime soon, then everything will be fine between us.
I’m sure I wouldn’t be so miserable if I had all that she has. Karen told me that they live in a stonking great house in Hampstead. Hampstead, for heaven’s sake! I thought only TV stars lived there. And she doesn’t work or anything. Hasn’t lifted one of her immaculately manicured fingers in years. She looks like a woman who’s used to a life of ease. I bet she has a wardrobe full of cashmere and you can just tell that the dress she’s wearing didn’t come from Primark like mine. She has flawless skin and is as slender as a reed.
I should be massively jealous. She’s living the sort of life I’d like for myself and Mia but, oddly, I feel quite sorry for the woman. Although she’s expensively pretty, she also looked very fragile. Brittle. I should imagine that living with Tyler Benson has worn her down over the years. I wonder if she has any idea that her old man has an eye for the ladies.
Then, speak of the devil, my boss appears. He’s with Tom Davidson, who runs the refinery at Coryton. He shakes Davidson’s hand vigorously and then abruptly turns his back on the man. He heads in my direction and my stomach flips, but not in a good way.
‘Hello, hello,’ he says as he sidles up to me. ‘You’re looking particularly gorgeous tonight, my lovely sidekick.’
I paste a smile on my lips. ‘Good evening, Tyler.’
My boss doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. He stands about two inches away from me and, if it wasn’t for the wall behind me, I’d step back. As it is, I’m trapped.
Point to remember for future. Never get stuck against a wall with Tyler Benson. I’ve already learned not to get in a lift with him on my own if I can possibly avoid it. There’s actually a company directive that prohibits male employees from getting into a lift with a woman on her own. Tyler obviously hasn’t read it. The man has octopus hands.
His eyes rove over my body, lingering too long at the little cleavage that I’m now regretting showing. He leans in and puts a hand on the wall over my shoulder. Really, any closer and we’d actually be having sex. This despite the fact that our colleagues are all around. Maybe he’d feel differently if he knew I’d told Karen all about him. I try to make myself smaller, much smaller. I don’t know whether it’s the drink kicking in, but he seems to be even smarmier than usual.
‘Fine,’ he says. ‘Mighty fine. You’ve hidden your light under a bushel, Lovely Louise. I’ll be the envy of Fossil Oil with such a pretty personal assistant.’
He says ‘personal’ in a sleazebaggy way.
‘I’d rather they notice me for my sharp brain and excellent administration skills.’
He shrugs. ‘That’s a really great necklace.’ His fingers caress the pendant that hangs from my mum’s pearls.
‘Thanks.’ I get hold of it and try to move his hand away, but not before he’s traced a line down my chest and towards my breasts. Creep.
Can’t someone see this and rescue me? He’s like this in the office too. Every single time he passes my desk, he tries to brush against me. If he brings me work, he leans so far over me that I’m
When I’ve finished taking photographs, I carefully scan the room. Of Josh Wallace there’s no sign. He and Karen have disappeared without trace. Karen seems to be setting her plan to take him home with her in action already. Well, good luck to her. I have no need of that kind of thing.
I feel exhausted and yet the night is still young. It was flipping hard work talking to Kirsten Benson, I can tell you. Tyler’s wife is stunning to look at, but it was like trying to converse with a lump of stone. Perhaps it’s no wonder Tyler’s developed a roving eye. Just so long as it stops roving in my direction sometime soon, then everything will be fine between us.
I’m sure I wouldn’t be so miserable if I had all that she has. Karen told me that they live in a stonking great house in Hampstead. Hampstead, for heaven’s sake! I thought only TV stars lived there. And she doesn’t work or anything. Hasn’t lifted one of her immaculately manicured fingers in years. She looks like a woman who’s used to a life of ease. I bet she has a wardrobe full of cashmere and you can just tell that the dress she’s wearing didn’t come from Primark like mine. She has flawless skin and is as slender as a reed.
I should be massively jealous. She’s living the sort of life I’d like for myself and Mia but, oddly, I feel quite sorry for the woman. Although she’s expensively pretty, she also looked very fragile. Brittle. I should imagine that living with Tyler Benson has worn her down over the years. I wonder if she has any idea that her old man has an eye for the ladies.
Then, speak of the devil, my boss appears. He’s with Tom Davidson, who runs the refinery at Coryton. He shakes Davidson’s hand vigorously and then abruptly turns his back on the man. He heads in my direction and my stomach flips, but not in a good way.
‘Hello, hello,’ he says as he sidles up to me. ‘You’re looking particularly gorgeous tonight, my lovely sidekick.’
I paste a smile on my lips. ‘Good evening, Tyler.’
My boss doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. He stands about two inches away from me and, if it wasn’t for the wall behind me, I’d step back. As it is, I’m trapped.
Point to remember for future. Never get stuck against a wall with Tyler Benson. I’ve already learned not to get in a lift with him on my own if I can possibly avoid it. There’s actually a company directive that prohibits male employees from getting into a lift with a woman on her own. Tyler obviously hasn’t read it. The man has octopus hands.
His eyes rove over my body, lingering too long at the little cleavage that I’m now regretting showing. He leans in and puts a hand on the wall over my shoulder. Really, any closer and we’d actually be having sex. This despite the fact that our colleagues are all around. Maybe he’d feel differently if he knew I’d told Karen all about him. I try to make myself smaller, much smaller. I don’t know whether it’s the drink kicking in, but he seems to be even smarmier than usual.
‘Fine,’ he says. ‘Mighty fine. You’ve hidden your light under a bushel, Lovely Louise. I’ll be the envy of Fossil Oil with such a pretty personal assistant.’
He says ‘personal’ in a sleazebaggy way.
‘I’d rather they notice me for my sharp brain and excellent administration skills.’
He shrugs. ‘That’s a really great necklace.’ His fingers caress the pendant that hangs from my mum’s pearls.
‘Thanks.’ I get hold of it and try to move his hand away, but not before he’s traced a line down my chest and towards my breasts. Creep.
Can’t someone see this and rescue me? He’s like this in the office too. Every single time he passes my desk, he tries to brush against me. If he brings me work, he leans so far over me that I’m
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