Tilly

Tilly

Iglancedatmy watch. It was nearly five in the afternoon. Yesterday I agreed to self-defence classes, but today I knew that idea was ludicrous. Getting to know Jackson seemed a good idea, but now I was terrified. Doing it with Jackson wouldn’t work out.

Too close, I couldn’t have his body touching mine again. So I found a club just on the outskirts of my suburb, one extra stop on the Tube. It was perfect because I couldn’t get too close to them. I didn’t know what they planned, but I still needed answers.

I threw my tote over my shoulder, grabbed my purse. My hand shook as I pulled my mobile from my pocket. As I got ready to call Jackson’s personal assistant to tell him I couldn’t make our meeting. I strode into the lift, pressed the button to lower me to the ground floor.

I was sneaking out ten minutes early, giving Sandy the excuse I had to leave early for an appointment. The lift vibrated to a halt; the doors opened and after saying goodbye to Peggy at reception; I called Jackson’s personal assistant.

“Hi, Barbara, could you inform Jackson that I can’t make our meeting because I’ve got to go somewhere? It’s an emergency,” I said.

“He’s left for the day Tilly, he must have forgotten,” she said.

I smiled. “No problem. Have a good evening,” I said and disconnected the phone. Dropping my mobile into my pocket, before I turned to walk to the exit.

“So what’s the emergency?” The deep voice asked.

I yelped and jumped as I slapped my hand on my chest. “You need to stop sneaking up on me,” I said.

“Not sneaking. I was waiting for you. We can start learning after I take you to your appointment.”

My eyes rolled up at the ceiling.

“There’s no emergency, is there?” He placed his hand on his heart and smiled. “I’m getting the horrid impression you’re trying to avoid me.”

“It’s just... awkward. I mean, have you offered this to anyone else?” I asked. Knowing fine well, he hadn’t.

“Nobody else is mine,” he whispered into my ear as he placed his hand on my lower back, turned me around, and led me out of the rear of the building.

Nobody else is mine.

“One night doesn’t make me yours.”

“No, you’re right. Fate made you mine, and me yours.”

Jackson opened the door to his Range Rover Sport, grasping my waist to help me climb into the seat.

“You are very hands on,” I said, flicking his hands away as they lingered over my body.

He burst out laughing. “It’s a bit late to be worrying about my hands being on you.”

I closed my eyes and sighed at that. Making a mental note that too many suppressants were as dangerous as not enough.

And alcohol, Tilly.

The drive to his apartment only took ten minutes. He parked in an underground car park and we rode the lift to the fourteenth floor. And I gasped, seeing what was in front of me. A full gymnasium and doors leading to a jacuzzi and a spa. Jackson led me to the changing rooms.

“Get changed. I’ll see you back here in a couple of minutes. Barefoot.”

The changing room wasn’t big but was luxurious. The largest off-white porcelain tiles were on the floor and walls, there were three separate rain showers along the back wall and enough products to fill a shelf in a supermarket.

I changed into my workout gear, a pair of patterned yoga leggings and matching crop top, and made my way to kick the smile off Jackson’s face.

Yeah, that would never happen.

I wandered around the gym equipment, wondering if I should start working out and getting fit. Not that I was unfit, but my gym membership was a bit of a waste of money, as I walked whenever I could and probably used my paid membership once or twice a fortnight.