“Uh, right, yes, OK,” I mumble.

“That’ll be all, Miss. Samuels,” she says, and just like that, I’m dismissed.

4. Empire

My afternoon is slower than my morning. A fault in the IT department means that the internet is down, making the online research that I wanted to do for my new projects impossible. I delight in hearing my phone ring an hour before the end of the working day. Please be someone that’ll talk my ear off for the next hour, I beg, as I answer in my usual receptionist-style.

My wish is granted: it’s Logan.

“Look up,” his voice purrs.

I do, expectantly, and I’m not left disappointed. He’s standing in the doorway between reception and the large room in which my cubicle sits. He is simply perfection. Automatically, I stand as he walks over to my desk.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, pleased by the surprise.

He bows his head to brush his soft lips against mine. “We’ve got a meeting,” he smiles at me.

“No, we don’t,” I stammer. Do we?

“Yes,” Logan insists, “look, it’s right here…” He retrieves a pen from my desk and proceeds to write in my work diary under Monday, March 3rd:

Meeting with Logan Leary at 4.30PM ♡

“You are good at drawing love hearts,” I tease him.

Laughing, he says, “There’s not much to it, baby.” Then he takes my hand and (no doubt having been in one before during previous business meetings with Amélie) he leads the way to one of the meeting rooms, aptly choosing the one room whose blinds are down. Butterflies fill my tummy as he pulls me inside and changes the sign on the door from Vacant to Meeting in Progress: Do Not Disturb. He shuts the door and turns to look at me, his eyes filled with longing.

I try to ignore the feelings that have abruptly risen in me; such amorous emotions are not welcome at my place of work. I try to be cool and casual as I say, “So, this meeting…what did you want to discuss?”

“Your many curvatures,” he says.

My eyes widen, and I can’t keep the smile from my face. “Oh? Those?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about them all day,” he tells me.

“What about them in particular were you pondering?” I ask, twirling around and showing off my curvatures.

“Well…” he smiles.

I hold up a hand to stop him. “Damn, I’ve forgotten my pen, I can’t take any notes,” I sigh. I walk over to him, a smile playing on my lips, and slip my hand into the hidden breast pocket of his jacket where I know he keeps his phone. I pull it out, and ask, “You don’t mind if I take notes on here, do you?”

“I could have just handed it to you,” he points out, grinning.

“I prefer getting it myself,” I say honestly. I call up Siri and command her to start taking notes. “Now, Mr. Leary, my many curvatures…what about them?” I ask, the phone held high in my hand, taking note of our conversation.

“Well,” he begins again, “since you are so good at your job I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of less is more. I really do believe that in the case of your curvatures, the less fabric there is covering them, the better.”

“I see,” I nod. Don’t swoon, Gemima, not yet. “Uh, just so I can fully grasp your meaning perhaps you could give me,” I pluck a number from thin air, “three examples?”

Logan smiles at me, enjoying our play with words. But before he feels able to touch me here at my place of work, his eyes dart to the four corners of the room and he asks me cautiously, “Are there security cameras in here?” His words hold so much hidden promise.

“I don’t know,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t think so, but if there are, you can bet Amélie will be knocking on the door momentarily.”

We wait a few seconds; there’s no knock.

Logan’s smile returns. “Three examples?” he checks, and I nod again. “Alright, let’s begin here…” His hand rests on my left hip and runs south over my thigh. “And here…” He does the same thing on my right side. “And here…” He takes a step towards me so that we’re flush against each other, and then runs both hands from the small of my back down, over my backside. His hands glide smoothly over the fabric of my skirt, his touch turning me on. As he speaks and strokes me, our eyes pour into one another’s, our lips only inches apart.

We wait another few seconds; still no one interrupts us.

“That’s three,” I say breathlessly.

“No, no,” he chuckles. “They count as one.”

Oh? I grin at him and raise an eyebrow. “Two more then,” I permit.

“Very good, Samuels,” he says. ”These count as one as well,” he tells me, his hands skimming over my breasts. “And these…” His hands trail along my collar bone, over my shoulders and down my upper arms. “And then there’s here…” This time he uses his lips to kiss the curve of my neck.

“That’s already uncovered,” I point out. Uh, shut up, Gem!

“So it is,” Logan murmurs, kissing my neck again, more fervidly. “And this curve…” He kisses my cheek. “And this one…” My nose. “And here…” My eyelid.

All uncovered also, I don’t say.

“And, of course,” he smiles against my lips, “these curves…”

He kisses my lips, and I’m undone. I throw my arms around his neck and cradle his head, kissing him with gusto. Mmm, he tastes so delicious, his passion and fervour for me evident in the way that he holds and kisses me. A moan escapes me as our tongues crash forcefully against one another. He’s come here, to my work, and seduced me entirely. This definitely beats actually working.

“Before you distract me completely,” Logan breathes, sounding as flustered as I suddenly feel, “I feel I should add that there is one more curvature that I happened to know, from previous experience, that I cannot access when this sexy skirt of yours is on.”

“Curvatures uncovered. I understand,” I tell him. “You’ve made your point. You’ve made it very well, Mr. Leary.” I look down at Logan’s phone and tell it to stop taking notes: it’s heard quite enough.

“What would you like me to do with the notes?” his phone asks me.

My eyes grow wide. Technology talking back to me is still so weird!

“Send them to my mother,” Logan jokes.

“Sending to your mother,” the phone says in a monotonous tone.

I blanch. Fuck! I stab the cancel button and, mercifully, the action is cancelled in time.

“Oh my god! Can you imagine if that had actually been sent?” I exclaim, flooded with relief.

Logan laughs at my reaction, but when he kisses me again my panic disappears, and I’m back in our hot and sensual bubble.

“At least I didn’t pocket-dial her this morning,” he whispers mischievously.

“Ah, this morning,” I reminisce about our encounter in the elevator.

“I’ve been thinking about that all day, too,” he tells me.

“As I’ve heard it, your day has been spent putting out fires of a different kind…”

“Oh, yes,” he sighs, “some nosey people had some nosey questions,” he admits. Then he shrugs, “Most of the guys at work thought it was pretty funny.”

“Why is it even being talked about?” I just don’t get it. “You’re not going to get into any trouble, are you?”

“I believe I’m under strict orders to only get my trouble from you,” he grins. But seeing that I’m concerned, he adds, “It’s all gossip, without any real consequences this time. I am lucky in that, I know I am, and it won’t happen again,” he says. “Unless Jerry calls you a whore again, in which case—”

“You’ll have to get in line behind me to punch him.”

“Yes,” Logan nods. “But I don’t think he’ll be calling you anything anymore…” Something about his words makes me feel like there’s more to them than he’s letting on. Proving me right, he slowly adds, “I called him to set things straight.” He sighs again. “I thought it was for the best to make things settle down quickly.”