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I step closer and take the silk. He is much taller than me and I have to rise on tiptoe. Freshly shaven, his jaw is sharp and smooth and I smell a hint of cinnamon. His eyes are very blue and, honestly, I forget what I’m meant to be doing. I wobble. Instantly he puts a hand on my waist to steady me but the contact hits like an electrical current and it resets my heart. It beats faster. I breathe faster too. And my skin seems to have tripled in sensitivity because I swear I can feel the heat of him through my dress. Now my legs are wobblier still and suddenly it’s not just his hand at my waist, but his arm curled around my back pulling me closer until I’m all but leaning against him. It’s super embarrassing but there’s a glint in his eye that makes me refuse to step back and admit my mortification.
I’m all thumbs. I make myself remember what I’m supposed to be doing. Simone. The birthday guest should have the best night of her life.
‘They’re pretty noisy but in good spirits,’ I babble as I tie the silk. ‘Mostly women. It’s a birthday, you know?’
‘I know.’
Yeah, of course he does. He’s an absolute professional. He has a calm, confident deliberation about him, there’s no rushing him. I can’t resist breathing in again to appreciate that cinnamon. His hair has an ever so slightly damp look to it. He’s a pillar of sensual heat and I’ve basically plastered myself all over him.
I’m jealous of Simone and her party. Would it be okay to loiter at the back of the room during his show?
A wave of lust washes over me. I almost choke. I don’t behave like this. I don’t gawp at men. I prefer to avoid them—I have other priorities. Besides, I don’t want to risk discovering I’ve inherited my mother’s appalling taste in men. But I can’t stop staring—or leaning on him. I even pat his chest once I’ve finally finished the tie.
‘You’ll give her a good time, won’t you?’ I mumble. ‘She’s nice.’
He blinks. ‘A good time?’
My fingers seem to be stuck to his chest. I can’t lift them away from the heat of him. The hard strength is compelling. Instinctively I spread them wider. He tenses even more. We’re so close and it’s madness. I manage to lower my gaze from his but I only get as far as his mouth.
‘Do I pass inspection?’ he mutters.
‘I guess...’ I bite my lip.
‘Aren’t you in charge around here?’
I shake my head. I’m not in charge of anything right this second and that is so not like me. ‘I’d better get back to...’
‘To what?’ He leans a little closer.
I manage to breathe but I get another hit of that soap and I’m brainless again. ‘Making coffee. I make a lot of coffee. But that’s okay. I actually love making coffee.’
He nods. ‘I love my job too.’
Yeah. ‘I bet you’re really good at it.’
‘So I’ve been told,’ he says gravely.
I should step back but he hasn’t released me and I’m completely immobilised. There’s another long moment where we stand too still, too silent, too close. My heart is pounding so hard he must be able to feel it. His mouth moves and he actually smiles. Everything seems awfully intimate but at the same time it’s shockingly easy. I don’t know this feeling. It’s as if I’ve stepped through a portal and now a swirling bubble of heat spreads from a secret source low in my belly. Warmth and light ripple through me, and something silkier—something forbidden. It snakes around me like a ribbon, drawing me closer. Binding me to him. I don’t want it to end.
I hear something like a groan and with a small gasp I realise it came from me.
I’m too busy. I’m too alone. But I need to be. Ava is relying on me. Romy is relying on me. Kiri is relying on me. So is Simone. And I’m relying on me. There’s no one else I can rely on.
‘You really shouldn’t be any later,’ I say firmly.
‘You really care about whether she has a good time?’
‘Yes,’ I growl. ‘I really do. And not because she’s paid for it. She’s a nice person. How people like her treat people like me and you is very telling.’
‘People like her?’
‘Obscenely wealthy.’ Aside from the whole book-the-whole-restaurant-out fact, Simone has the look—the silk clothes and gleaming jewels. Most of the ultra-wealthy people I’ve met are too used to getting whatever they want. At best they take people like me for granted and at worst, treat me like dirt. Either way I know very well I don’t fit in their world. ‘But she’s a good one.’
His expression tightens. ‘To people like you and me?’
‘Service industry survivors.’ I half smile. Bracketing myself with him feels good. ‘She deserves a good night,’ I say softly. ‘Don’t make her wait any longer.’
‘Okay,’ he agrees equally softly but he doesn’t release me. ‘I won’t make her wait...’
