Under His Influence

She was awake again. Daylight.

“Oh God, I’m blushing!” she exclaimed, putting her hands to her cheeks. “That was so intense. Thank God people can’t see your dreams. Anna Rice, you’re a perv. And you didn’t know it.”

Laughing to herself, she went to wash in the bathroom downstairs and hoped to calm her nerves while getting ready to face the barrage of gossip that would no doubt meet her at the office.

“Shit.” She frowned, rummaging once more in her shoulder bag, finding her mobile and checking it for messages (none), but still unable to lay hands on her security pass. Approaching the Recorder offices, she looked unthinkingly over to the spot of pavement outside the Dolly where It Had Happened, and once again that spreading flush of warmth circulated around her insides, and she caught herself in an inane grin. All the same, she was going to have to lurk outside the doors until a friend came along to beep her in with them, which meant an unobtrusive spot was called for, from which she could see but not be seen. The last thing she needed was Rob pitching up and interrogating her about last night. Way too early for the non-Spanish Inquisition.

“Mimi!” she whispered sharply as her best friend approached, caramel curls bouncing like a model’s in a shampoo advertisement, all fragrant and accessorised to the point of caricature.

“Darling, why are you lurking? Must you lurk? It’s so off-putting. Especially first thing in the morning.”

“Can’t find my pass, sorry.”

“Again? Security will spank you.”

“As long as it’s the one who looks like Zachary Quinto, I can live with that.”

“Mmm, think I could too.”

They nodded at the security man in the lobby—not the Zachary Quinto lookalike, unfortunately, and headed for the lifts.

“I hope Rob’s off sick,” Anna said, cringing.

“Oh dear. And Liam?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want him to be ill. I just hope he’s…invisible today.”

“There, there.” Mimi consolingly patted her friend’s arm. “One day of pain, and then it will all be forgotten. There’ll be a new temp or something, and Rob will chase after her instead. Everything will go over Liam’s head, as it always does, and he’ll be the same as ever. And perhaps your mysterious hedge fund man will call. You never know.”

“I do know,” Anna said, smiling a secret smile, then wiping it off in order to take the very deep breath that was necessary before stepping out onto the third floor.

“I’ll come into the office with you. Moral support,” whispered Mimi, entering the open-plan shark pit in advance of her friend. Anna scurried gratefully to her desk, feigning intent interest in the booting of her computer, while all those around her looked up and exchanged glances.

“You should have said.” Rob was the first to speak, diagonally opposite.

“Said what?” Anna did not dare raise her eyes.

“That you were meeting your dad. I’d have understood.”

Muffled giggles.

“Oh, so petulant,” Mimi said airily. “Girls don’t love petulance, Robert. Rule number thirty-eight thousand and three. Add it to your list.” She beamed at him maternally, then turned away and kissed Anna’s cheek. “Let’s do lunch, love,” she suggested. “See you in the canteen. Ciao.”

“You’ll break that keyboard,” Liam observed with a frown. “You don’t have to stab the keys.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Flustered, Anna ventured a glance. Liam was still gorgeous. But she felt pleasantly detached from his gorgeousness, and the realisation was so liberating that she smiled and straightened in her chair. “Have you had coffee yet?”

“I have. But I haven’t had a mochaccino. Or a muffin.”

“Cheeky!”

“I know. But you love it really.”

Anna skipped off to the canteen, suddenly so lighthearted she thought she might float down the stairs. Was she really over Liam? Had that happened overnight, with a metaphorical click of the fingers? Or rather, she thought, touching her neck again, by a literal kiss. But God, what a kiss. Oh, what a kiss.

She was still reliving the moment on her return to her office, sinking her lips into the cappuccino froth and making a smile shape in the beige, determined to ignore any unpleasantness that might be hanging in the air.

“While tearing off a game of golf / I may make a play for the caddy,” Lucinda Rae, Rob’s best friend and flatmate was singing innocently as she typed. “But when I do, I don’t follow through / 'Cause my heart belongs to Daddy.”