Crossing the Line (3 page)

He gapes at me. “And which Uni did you
attend?”

I laugh. “Same one you did.” We get out of
the car and walk inside; Aden being a gentlemen again and holding the door
open for me. I look up at him through a veil of my chocolate brown hair that’s
fallen in my face.

“Table for two?” The waiter asks, grabbing
two menus before we can answer. Why ask?

“Please. Somewhere private,” Aden replies,
gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. His arm lightly brushes mine as I walk
past him, giving me goose bumps. Somewhere private. Why do we need somewhere
private? My heart jumps, even though I know he isn’t about to take me over the
table. A girl can dream.

We sit down in a quiet corner of the
restaurant and order drinks – me white wine and him a beer. I still can’t
get over how incredibly sexy he is. I want to congratulate his parents. “So
what are you having? I think I’m going to have the vegetable lasagne.”

He looks over his menu, smirking at me.
“Veggie lasagne. Don’t you like meat?” His eyebrows shoot up suggestively. How
charming.

I try to keep a straight face. “Not that
much, no.”

“Well I’m getting the steak. Maybe you can
try mine and see if that changes your mind.”

Whoa, flirting back. It doesn’t take a
genius to figure out the double meaning there. I’ve never had a job before, but
I’m pretty certain we have already crossed over the professional relationship
line. I shrug, not wanting to stop the flirting yet. “Hmm, maybe I will.”

He chuckles and nods to the waiter, gaining
his attention. I bite my lip. Muscles, muscles, muscles. I wonder if he’s just
a flirty person or if he wants to screw my brains out too. God the second one,
please.

Mentally shaking my head at myself, I
frown. I have a one-track mind like a fourteen-year old boy after feeling his
first boob when I’m around him. There’s something about Aden that makes me feel
alive. He’s all man, from the strong muscular body, that sexy smirk, those deep
come to bed eyes, down to the determined businessman. He radiates masculinity
and screams I will fuck you until you can’t walk, and I – for the first
time ever – want just that.

I want a man that doesn’t shoot his load in
five minutes, roll over and fall asleep. I want someone that doesn’t think a
quick honk of the breasts and two fingers for five seconds is adequate
foreplay. Is that really too much to ask for?

“So, Amelie, what makes you want to work
and leave behind the life of privilege, expensive cars and five holidays a
year?”

“Please call me Millie.” I frown. “But not
in front of my parents.” He nods and grins in amusement. “I just hate the idea
of living off of someone else. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I will most
definitely go insane being home all the time, and when I buy a house and a car
I want to know that I’ve bought it.”

“So you don’t like the idea of being a
housewife?”

I shake my head. “No way! I mean it’s fine
if that’s what makes you happy, but it’s not for me. Everyone should have a
choice.”

“You really want to move out and live on
your own?”

“Yes. As soon as I have enough money I’m
gone.” I have a very, very large trust fund, but I don’t want to use it. I
won’t be making it myself if I use Daddy’s money to live on my own. I’m leaving
the money where it is and have already opened a new account for my wages. I’m
starting from the beginning like most people have to.

He nods and briefly bites his lip. “I
understand that. My only choice growing up was working for my dad. I hated
knowing exactly what I would be doing right up until the day I die. I felt like
I had no options and no control over my own life. I rebelled and took off for
six months after University. Dad eventually found me, and we worked out a
compromise. I was going to start on my own, but in a similar line as him, we
could help each other out. I’ve always been passionate about music and
discovering new artists, so a record label seemed like the perfect thing for me
to do. I love it.”

I smile as I see in his eyes just how
passionate he is about what he does. That’s what I want to find. I want a job I
love. “I really admire that,” I say and he smiles a boyish smile that makes my
heart skip a beat.

“It’s important to me that I build
something up for myself. I don’t want to be handed anything. But going on my
own means that I don’t have the finances to start up big. Don’t get me wrong,
we’re doing well but without backing the label won’t grow as quickly as I’d
like. We’re turning down too much talent because we can’t accommodate it. I’ve
been speaking to a few people in Dublin, entrepreneurs that want to try
something new without much risk or effort.” Sounds like men with too much money
to me. “It’s going well, we’ve emailed contracts back and forth, ironing out
details, and I’m going back soon to meet hopefully for the final time.”

I smile. Finally, someone that understands
where I’m coming from – although Aden is much braver than me. “Where did
you take off to after Uni?”

He laughs and shakes his head, and I know
he’s not going to tell me. “I’m not giving you tips, Millie”

I gently punch the table, pretending to be
annoyed. Actually I am a little. Things would be so much easier if I just ran
away but as much as my family make me want to pull my hair out I don’t want to
leave and never see them again.

Aden laughs and the sound goes straight
between my legs. His laugh is low, deep and too sexy. “I just went travelling
the world for a while. You want to travel?”

Is that an offer? I shake my head to clear
the lustful thoughts that are invading my mind. I need to stop thinking about
him so much; it’s unhealthy. I have only known him for four hours. Not to
mention he’s my bloody boss!

He looks at me, waiting. Oh right, his
question. “Yes. I definitely want to travel,” I reply. I’ve seen a lot of the
world already, but it was on family holidays, so I know I didn’t get the full
experience of every place we’ve been to. Five star hotels are very lovely in
every country.

“There’s going to be some travel involved
with this job. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Your dad said there would be.”

“Good. We won’t be gone for more than a day
or two at a time, and it won’t be often, I promise.”

That started off a whole new round of
inappropriate thoughts – this time involving hotel rooms, planes and
lifts. I was fine with traveling. I actually wish he would make me go away for
a while, and not just so I would have more of a chance to tie him to a hotel
bed.

Over lunch, I’ve found out that Aden is so
easy to get along with and I like him much more than I should. His family and
childhood was pretty much the same as mine. I love having someone I can share
my true thoughts with, someone that’s felt as suffocated by having everything
planned out for you as I do.

Back at the office, I spend the rest of the
afternoon filing some new employee forms in my office and setting up my emails.
Aden walks into the room and leans against the wall, casually crossing one leg
over the other. I look up and sigh in my head. Wow, wow, wow!

“So, are you going home or do you want to
spend the night here?” he says, cocking his head to the side. Well that all
depends on whether he’s staying or not.

I glance up at the clock above his head and
see it’s just after five already. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late.” After
closing down my computer, I stand up and grab my handbag. Aden watches me, and
I feel self-conscious. No one makes me self-conscious, and I hate it. I’ve
never really cared what anyone thinks of me before him. I want him to like me.

“Ready then?” he asks as I walk towards
him. I nod, and we walk to the lift together. I’ve not seen his dad at all. I
half expected him to pop in to see how I was getting on so he could relay it
back to my mum. Unless she has hidden cameras. I frown. That isn’t too crazy
for Elizabeth Cohen. She would see it as protecting me. Oh my God has she had
cameras fitted? I look up at the ceiling and sure enough there are cameras up
there, but the building had CCTV security.

“You okay, Millie?”

I look to Aden, and he’s watching me,
trying hard to keep a straight face. “Yes.” Damn. “Those the building’s CCTV
cameras?” I ask, pointing above us.

“Yes, why? Who else would they belong to?”

Clearly he doesn’t know my mum because I’m
not being ridiculous. I laugh it off. “Sorry, silly question.”

The lift is crammed, but we step in,
squished together and make our way downstairs. There’s hardly, any room so my
side is pressed right against his chest. He makes no attempt to move back and
give us more space.

He tilts his head, and it’s just inches
from mine. “So, Millie, how was your first day? Think you’ll enjoy it here?”

I gulp as everything down south clenches.
My heart flutters as his tongue licks over his bottom lip. It’s innocent but
sexy as hell. “It was great, and I’m sure I’ll love it here.” To be fair the
job could absolutely suck, and I’ll still love it, staring into those deep blue
eyes all day.

He smiles and my knees weaken. “Good.”

Thankfully before I can get lost and kiss
him, someone starts talking to him. He makes small talk for a second and then
turns to me. “Gregory, this is my new PA, Amelie Cohen. Millie, this is
Gregory. He works on the top floor for AL Associates.”

“Lovely to meet you, Amelie.”

“Likewise,” I reply, shaking his hand. I
want to ask what AL Associates is, but I have a feeling I’m expected to know. I
don’t need any help in making myself look like an idiot, so I smile sweetly and
keep my mouth closed.

“So where did you find her, Aden? I’d like
to get me one,” Gregory jokes, nudging Aden with his elbow. Aden fake laughs and
gives me an apologetic smile.

I press my lips together. The lift comes to
a stop at the ground floor, and I want to kiss it. I know me, and I know I’m
seconds from embarrassing Aden and myself by saying something to the letch that
is Gregory. I walk out to the car park with Aden, leaving Mr Dirty Pervert
hanging around by the lift.

Being in the open with Aden is easier,
nothing can happen here. I can’t jump him here. He turns to me, his eyes
blazing. I gulp. Maybe I can?

We walk side by side and I want to steal a
peek at him, but I’m scared he’ll catch me, so I keep my eyes ahead, ignoring
the butterflies swarming in my stomach. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Millie,” he
says. His tone is low and sexy as hell.

“Yes. Bye, Aden,” I whisper and walk to my
car before I do something stupid. I give it a week before I make a move and end
up being fired.

Chapter Three

The second I step through the front door, I
pull off my heels and throw them on the floor. I love heels, and how they make
me feel but, Jesus, they kill. “Pick those up please, Amelie, and come to my
dressing room. Margaret is here with the dresses,” Mum says as she walks past
me like a whirlwind.

Oh my
first day was great, Mum, thank you very much for asking!

I hold in a sarcastic reply and take my
shoes to my room. Can I not even do one normal thing in this damn house?
Doesn’t everyone take off their shoes and chuck them down when they get home?
My mother needs to chill out a bit; I’m surprised her head’s not exploded
by now.

I change into a long top and leggings.
Leggings are a cardinal sin in my house, something that hookers and the lesser
people wear, or that’s what Mum’s horrified reaction makes me believe she
thinks. I like them, though. They’re comfortable, and a tiny part of me –
my immature inner child – likes that she doesn’t like them.

My parents are hosting what they’re calling
a summer party. In reality,
 
it’s a
pimping Isabel out party where they’ll not so subtly search for the perfect man
to take her off their hands. She should get off her arse and go out and meet
people not rely on our parents to find her someone suitable.

I always wonder how much say my parents
have and if Isabel would just go along with whoever they suggest, even if she
doesn’t have a connection with him. It’s not an arranged marriage, but I think
she puts a lot of trust in my parents’ matchmaking abilities. Harriet and Oliver
seem happy with their partners.

Having a dress fitting is the last thing I
want to do. I want to lie in bed, watch crappy TV, eat junk food and obsess
about Aden. Well I don’t want to do the obsessing thing but I know I will. Aden
was definitely flirting with me too. I did not imagine that, did I?

Mum flits through the room, pointing to the
portable rails full of full-length dresses that now fill the room completely. I
bet none of them will be to my taste at all. I don’t see why we can’t go
shopping like normal people, but Mum insists on getting Margaret to bring her
designs here. Margaret is a genius dressmaker, but a genius dressmaker for the
over thirties.

“How was work Amelie?” Isabel asks,
appearing from behind a black screen. She turns her nose up as if my job is
licking people’s feet clean.

I smile, picturing my new sexy boss. “It
was great.”

She looks at me sceptically and turns her
attention back to the rails of dresses. Whatever, she has no clue what she can
actually have from life; everything outside of this house is so evil to her. I
swear she thinks if she goes to work she’ll spontaneously combust on the first
day.

Five minutes later and I want to hang
myself with one of the silk scarfs. Conversation is all outfits and scandal of
the month: The Jones’ are getting a divorce. Whatever will poor Gillian do now
she’s a divorcee? Like she’ll have to worry, Frederic Jones is a
multi-millionaire and Gillian is a shark. I have no doubt she’ll get half of
everything – probably more actually – so apart from sleeping alone
nothing will change for her.

“Oh this is definitely the one for me,”
Harriet says, popping out from behind the same rail Isabel appeared from. How
many more people are back there? “Margaret, do you think you’d be able to make
something similar for Harmony? She’d look so cute in this colour.” Blue. Does
anyone look bad in blue?

Mum and Isabel finally decided on Isabel’s
dress – yes a joint decision because a twenty-three year old woman can’t
possibly choose all by herself. It was nice; I suppose. Black, long and it
clung to her body. It’s a little plain for my taste, but she will definitely
get noticed, though hopefully not by someone with a thing for French models.

The dress I eventually settle on, against
my mother’s wishes, is the closest thing that I’d pick for myself. It’s blood
red, long, of course, but backless and has a slit up the side of the skirt
revealing my right leg.

“Did you have to pick that dress, Amelie? I
don’t want you taking the limelight off of Isabel.” She shook her head. “I gave
up finding you a decent man a long time ago but please don’t ruin it for your
sister.”

“What do you mean by that?” I practically
growl.

“I mean the way you act isn’t going to find
you someone decent and as much as I’ve tried to change it for you, I can’t.
You’re too stubborn for your own good, and I worry about your future, but I
won’t have you ruining Isabel’s chances. You had better be on your best
behaviour, young lady and do not embarrass me.” I roll my eyes, feeling like a
child again. “I’m serious, Amelie. You don’t want the life we’ve shown you
– yet – but Isabel does.” What does that ‘yet’ mean? Oh God is she
still thinking that I’ll eventually come around? She is going to be very
disappointed.

I hold my hands up to get her to stop
talking for one bloody minute. “I get it, Mum! I won’t embarrass you. Hell I
won’t even talk to anyone if it makes you happy.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. Just be respectful
and polite.” She turns around when Margaret appears back with a dress Mum wants
to try on.

Be polite. Bloody cheek. Like I was going
to go around kicking the guests in the shin and spitting in their champagne.

I take a deep calming breath and sit down
on the cream leather sofas next to Harriet while she and Isabel now look at the
jewellery. The glass coffee table is covered with diamond necklaces, rings,
bracelets and earrings. Isabel has picked the largest diamonds she could find.
She puts them on and sparkles more than a cheap stripper’s glitter-covered
tits.

“This one would look gorgeous with your
dress,” Harriet says, handing me a necklace.

I nod and take hold of it, ready to let Mum
know I’m accessorised out. “Thank you.” I don’t really care; I don’t even want
to go but then how will it look if I’m absent?

I sit back and listen to my sister’s squeal
over jewellery and how Isabel is going to find a man at the party. Apparently
Mum has spent hours on the guest list – which doesn’t surprise me –
to give Isabel a great choice of appropriate men. My Mother is a bloody pimp. I
don’t see why Isabel can’t go find someone on her own.

“I can’t wait to find my husband,” Isabel
gushes. “And lose my virginity,” she adds with a giggle. Wait her virginity. I
cough on air. Isabel has been engaged before.

Harriet pats me on the back gently.
Thankfully they don’t pick up on it being surprise cough. “Are you okay,
Amelie?” she questions, her eyes full of concern. I nod numbly, completely
unable to form words. How the hell did she get through high school and her
pointless University stint without getting laid?

Thankfully Cordelia’s arrival saves me from
asking a question that will no doubt just make me look like a slut in my
mother’s eyes. Cordelia is holding two large trays of food. We’re eating in
here? What the hell happened to dinner?

“How’s it going, ladies?” Oliver asks as he
strolls through the door, watching where the trays are being put.

“Fantastic,” Isabel replies with a
squeaking noise added at the end.

My brother sits down on the other side of
me and lays his head on the back of the sofa. “So work, huh? How was it?”

“It was great. I’m going to love it there,”
I reply honestly, and my mind wonders back to Aden and his piercing blue eyes
again.

Oliver turns his body towards me slightly.
“Are you completely sure this is what you want? This life isn’t as bad as you
think and at least you’ll know you’ll be looked after,” he whispers so Harriet
and Isabel can’t hear.

Now as the most normal sibling –
after me, of course – I’m disappointed by his question. He’s the most
understanding one, and he’s questioning it too.

Mum comes out from behind the screen,
demanding that the dress be taken up a little.

“I’m sure,” I whisper quickly. He sighs and
nods. He wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels when he found out I wanted to chuck my
parent’s lifestyle, and I try to remember he’s only concerned about how I’ll
survive on my own.

“How’s Da-Joshua and Thomas?” Crap I almost
called them Damien and Lucifer to his face. That would go down like a lead
balloon. And aren’t the little angels supposed to be here? If they were in the
house, I would have heard them by now.

He smiles and his whole face lights up. I
know he loves them, but I wonder if he’s secretly scared of them too? “They’re
great. Samantha’s taking them to the zoo with her Mum instead. Mary decided
they should take them out to celebrate Joshua’s reading certificate in school.”
Whenever Oliver talks about his mother-in-law it’s always with a tight jaw.
Samantha wouldn’t have told her Mum that Oliver was bringing the boys here so
they couldn’t do something today; it’s always Oliver who has to change his
plans.

I almost made a joke about them sacrificing
the animals at the zoo – well less of a joke and more of a genuine
concern – but I smile instead. “Oh.” I want to say sorry, but I know
he’ll play it down and say he doesn’t mind. “That’s great about the
certificate, though.” Oliver nods and turns his head away. The conversation is
over.

We spend the next twenty minutes looking at
Mum’s dress and where it should be taken up and in, and helping her pick out
matching jewellery and shoes. Oliver hangs out on the sofa looking bored. He
would definitely be better off at home. I don’t know why he’s still here if he
doesn’t have to be.

I sit on the sofa for another
forty-fucking-five minutes, bored out of my mind. I’ve already counted every
coat hanger on the rails, and the number of diamonds in the necklace Harriet
picked out for me.

“Thank you very much, Margaret,” Mum says,
and I know she’s dismissing her. Thank God it’s over. I leave the room, knowing
I’m no longer needed. Not that I was needed after my outfit was chosen, but Mum
likes her girls to help each other out when picking out dresses. I suppose it’s
nice that she involves me too. It’s about the only time when I don’t feel like
she would rather I wasn’t here.

Finally I step back in my room, and I’m
safe. In here,
 
I can just relax and
be me without having those where did it all go wrong looks from my parents. I
turn the music on and start dancing around to Lady Gaga, throwing my arms around
like I’m on fire. This is how I let off steam.

My phone rings on my bedside table and
I freeze. Whoever it is has just ruined my crazy dance time that everyone has
but not everyone admits to. I don’t recognise the number, so I almost ignore it
but then it would bug me. “Hello,” I say into the phone.

“Amelie?” I still at the sound of his
silky, smooth voice. “Is this a bad time?” Aden asks, sounding really amused as
if he can see me. Shit, can he see me? My gaze shoots to the still closed door
and then my window. He’s definitely not stalking so perhaps he just imagines
I’m doing something weird.

I turn the music off, ending Gaga mid Poker
Face. “No, not a bad time. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to call so late,” he starts.
Late? I look up at the clock, and it’s almost half past nine at night. Wow, I
should have known it was late when food was brought up to Mum’s dressing room.

“I forgot to tell you about a meeting I
have tomorrow morning. My apologies, I didn’t even scribble it down and I’ve
just seen an email confirming the time. Do you think you could be in half an
hour early tomorrow to accompany me?”

An extra half an hour perving over my sexy
boss? Oh like he has to ask. “Sure, no problem.”

“Great, thank you. Okay I’ll let you go and
get back to Lady Gaga. See you tomorrow, Millie,” he says, chuckling quietly as
he ends the call.

I sigh and throw myself back on my
ridiculously large bed. Why do I keep embarrassing myself in front of him?
Right, tomorrow I’m going to make more of an effort and I will definitely not
play on the office furniture.

Because I know how sometimes mornings for
me are something straight out of hell, I pick out an outfit for work and hang
it on the front of my wardrobe, giving myself more time tomorrow. I then set my
alarm because there is no way I’ll wake up before it goes off – ever.

My evil, devil alarm wakes me up. I groan,
turning it off. Half an hour early means I don’t have time for my usual three
snoozes. I get out of bed and curse Aden.

As soon as I’m ready and finally awake, I
don’t mind the early start anymore, plus today I’m going to show Aden that I’m
not a childish pervert. My outfit, hair and make-up is perfect – and very
professional, grown-up – so I make my way downstairs to have something to
eat, even though I’m not at all hungry. I just want to avoid the embarrassing
stomach growls.

“You can’t only have a banana for
breakfast, Amelie,” Mum says in her ‘Amelie’s done something stupid again’
voice and sighs. “Let me get Marco to make you a fruit salad.” I stare at her
for a second; trying to work out if she’s serious. She wants to get the cook to
cut up some fruit for me? Now I’m no master chef, but I’m pretty sure I can
pull that off.