This Man (This Man 1)

I shrug. ‘-ish,’

A smile tickles the corner of his mouth. ‘-ish. ’ he counters. ‘The steak’s good. Do you want that?’ I nod. Yes, I could eat a little steak. He picks up his office phone and dials a few numbers. ‘Ava would like the steak,’ He puts the phone to his shoulder. ‘How do you like your steak?’

‘Medium, please,’

He returns to the phone. ‘Medium, with new potatoes and a salad. ’ He looks at me with raised eyebrows. I nod again. ‘In my office…and bring some wine…Zinfandel. That’s all…yes…thank you. ’ He hangs up and dials again. ‘John…yes…I’m ready when you are. ’ He hangs up before picking up again. ‘Sarah…fine, don’t worry. Bring me the latest attendance figures. ’ He puts the phone down again. ‘Sit. ’ He points at the sofa in the window.

Okay, I’m getting that uncomfortable feeling again, my small appetite fading fast. Damn it, I hate coming here. ‘I can go if you’re busy. ’

Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

He frowns, throwing me a questioning look. ‘No, sit. ’

I take myself over to the sofa to settle myself in the soft, brown leather. I feel like a spare part, uncomfortable and awkward. With little else to do, I watch as Jesse flicks through various piles of paperwork, signing here and there. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s doing. He glances up every now and then, lobbing me a reassuring smile, but it does little to ease my discomfort. I want to go.

After twenty minutes, or so, of twiddling my thumbs and wishing he would hurry up, the door knocks and Jesse calls an okay for whoever it is to enter. Pete walks in with a tray and follows Jesse’s pointed pen over to me.

‘Thank you, Pete. ’ I smile as Pete places the tray down in front of me and hands me some cutlery wrapped in a white, material napkin.

‘My pleasure, can I open your wine?’

‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve got it. ’

He nods before leaving the room quietly.

I remove the lid from the plate and a delicious smell invades my nostrils, dragging my appetite back. Unwrapping my knife and folk, I stab at my separate bowl of salad, the most colourful I’ve ever seen – peppers of every colour, red onion and a dozen varieties of lettuce leaf, all drenched in infused oil. I could eat this alone. It’s wonderful.

Crossing my legs, I place the tray on my lap and slice into the steak, humming a satisfied moan around my fork. The Manor does food very well.

‘Good?’

I feel Jesse’s chin resting on my shoulder. ‘Very,’ I mumble around my steak. ‘You want to try?’

He nods, opening his mouth. I slice a piece of steak and hold it over my shoulder for him to take. ‘Hmmm, very good. ’ he says around his chew.

‘More?’ I ask. His eyes widen in appreciation, so I cut him another piece, passing it over my shoulder again. He watches me as he wraps his full lips around my fork and slowly pulls the steak off. I can’t help the big smile that breaks out across my face. His eyes sparkle with pleasure and he struggles to prevent his own smile as he chews. He clamps his hands on my shoulders and buries his face in my neck from behind.

He nips playfully at my neck. ‘You taste better. ’

My smile broadens as he makes a meal of chewing at my throat, growling and nuzzling to his heart’s content. I laugh, raising my shoulder when he latches onto my ear, his hot breath causing shudders to course through me. He entices so many extreme reactions from me – extreme frustration, extreme desire and extreme happiness are just a few. This man works me, and he works me well.

‘You eat,’ he says as he kisses my temple tenderly. He starts circling his thumbs into the top of my back. ‘You’re tense. Why are you tense?’ he asks.

I roll my neck in gratitude. I’m tense because I’m here – it’s the only reason. How can one woman make me feel so uncomfortable? There’s a knock on Jesse’s office door.

‘Yes?’ He carries on working my shoulders as Sarah walks in.

Ah, speak of the devil. The atmosphere instantly cools as she clocks Jesse massaging my shoulders, her facial expression altering significantly. I notice it, but Jesse seems oblivious to the chilly undertones of her presence. I tense further, suddenly wanting Jesse’s hands off of me. That’s something I never thought I would want. But right now, I feel like an impostor, and the icy glare I’m getting thrown at me has me shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I’m really not helping my cause, sat here, legs crossed, all cosy on the sofa, with a steak in my lap and Mr Godly working his magic on me.

‘Your figures,’ she grumbles, waving the folder and walking casually over to Jesse’s desk to place them in front of his chair. She turns to face us, throwing daggers at me. Oh, she really hates me.

‘Thanks, Sarah. ’ He leans down and brushes his lips over my cheek, inhaling deeply before releasing me. ‘I have to work now, baby. Eat your dinner. ’ I see Sarah scowl briefly before reinstating the fake smile on her pouty face when Jesse turns towards her. He reaches into his jean pocket. ‘Have one hundred thousand transferred into this account ASAP. ’ he instructs, handing her an envelope.

‘One hundred?’ Sarah blurts. She glances down at the envelope.

‘Yes. Now, please. ’ He leaves her staring at the paper, taking his seat up behind his desk, completely ignorant to her gaping mouth. She flicks me a murderous look. It’s then I realise that it’s the envelope Sally gave him.

One hundred thousand? That’s way too much. What’s he thinking? I want to say something. Should I say something? I look at Sarah. She’s stood there scrutinising me, pursing her red lips. I don’t blame her. I just want to crawl under the sofa and die. One hundred thousand? Christ, she already thinks I’m after his money.