Repeating History (History #1) (11 page)

“Okay. We’ll tell her. We can tell her tomorrow. We’ll all go out for lunch.”

“Okay,” she smiles at me, “is that what you want though?”

“I really don’t mind,” I shrug honestly, “she’d work it out anyway.”

I drive Clara home late on Sunday night, “do you want to come in?” she offers when we pull up outside her building. I’m tempted but I know that I won’t leave and we’ve both got to be up early.

“Clara Delos! Are you trying to seduce me?” I give her my best faux shocked expression, “you shock me woman... you... you hussy.”

“I’m not a hussy, I’ll have you know Mr Contius,” Clara says as she prepares to leave me, “I’m a lady.”

“A lady of ill repute I bet,” he teases.

“You shock me sir,” she’s giggling again. “See you in the morning.”

“Sleep well princess,” I kiss her gently on the lips, already regretting the decision to end our weekend tonight and not tomorrow morning.

When I pick up Maya the next morning and tell her I would like her to join me for lunch to say she’s shocked is an understatement. “Why?” she’s suspicious.

“Can’t I just want to spend time with you?”

“No.”

“Hey!” I frown.

“I’m serious,” Maya is watching me closely, “normally you eat in your office.”

“Not today.”

“Who else is coming?”

“Fine. If you must know. Clara is coming too.”

“I knew it,” she’s squealing, “I knew something was going on. Jacob said you didn’t answer his call yesterday.”

“I regularly don’t answer Jake’s calls.”

“So you and Clara are an item?”

“An item?” I laugh, “what are you forty?”

“No. So you’re hooking up then?”

“Clara is my girlfriend,” I reply. I try to keep a straight face but I’m not sure my facial muscles know how to look serious. I’m smirking like an arrogant arse and I can’t help it.

“I’m happy for you,” Maya smiles at me.

“Thanks,” I’m a bit taken aback by her affectionate tone, “you’ll need to be discrete at work.”

“No duh!” sometimes she really is a child.

“Did you speak to your friends?”

“About?”

“A flat share?” I press.

“Oh. Yeah. They said they would love to if it’s not too expensive.”

“Clara and I looked at options yesterday online.”

“Did you now?” she’s smirking at me and I regret the fact that she learnt that expression from me.

“Yes. Clara has all the details. She’ll pass them onto you at some point today, no doubt.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

“I really am happy for you big brother,” Maya smiles genuinely, “Clara’s really amazing.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Oh shit!” Maya blurts out.

“What?”

“This means I can’t even tell the guys I won the fucking bet.”

“You won?”

“Yeah. I knew she’d give in eventually... no one is as stubborn as you.”

“Thanks,” I frown at her.

If I thought it was difficult working with Clara before, it is pure torture now. I’m supposed to be listening to Liam talk about his restaurant accounts but my attention keeps drifting to the memory of Clara in my bed. She’s sat there looking all innocent and unaffected and it’s driving me insane. I rub my brow with my palm, “so what you are saying Liam is that you think they need to completely rebrand?”

“Yes sir,” Liam is young and I’m not convinced with what he’s just told me.

“Make an appointment to come talk me through your proposal either today or tomorrow.”

“Okay sir,” he nods his head.

I turn my head to the girl I’ve been trying to ignore, “Clara, have you managed to get a hold of Emerson Lorrell yet?”

“Yes, he’s pretty much given me a free pass with his artists,” she tells me, “Maya and I will be heading over later this week. I thought that it would be really interesting to have Maya interview each of the artists. Then edit it up a bit into smaller snippets; I want to tell a story. Maya is an aspiring singer herself, so the videos will not just be telling us about Lorrell Labs artists but also the journey they take them on. A journey that Maya will act out. She’ll be the girl asking the questions... then she’ll be the one writing lyrics on the train... and eventually we’ll see her in the studio... signing an autograph... on tour... on stage.”

“Nice. I like it,” I tell her honestly, “and I’m sure Maya will be delighted.”

“She’s literally squealing downstairs right now.”

“She does that,” I’m smiling flirtatiously at her and I shouldn’t be. We’re at work and I promised we’d be professional. “That’s great everyone,” I turn back to the room at large. I’d almost forgotten the other directors were there.

I’m sat with Clara and Maya in Thorpe’s when Landon and Aurora approach us. “Out celebrating?” Landon asks with an entertained expression, eyeing the bottle of champagne.

“Maya is going to be in one of our ad campaigns,” I explain, “the Lorrell Labs account. She’s very excited.”

“Very excited doesn’t cover it,” she tells them, “thank you very much Mr Peters for giving me the job at TRW.”

“You’re welcome,” Landon smiles, “can we join you?”

“Sure,” Clara returns his smile.

“I see you two are getting on better,” Landon comments and I notice that Aurora pinches his arm. “Ouch darling angel, did you really just pinch me?”

“Yes love,” Aurora says sweetly, “you need to behave.”

“That’s me told,” Landon sighs, “I was merely saying I’m glad.”

Clara smiles widely at Aurora, “you are you feeling Aurora? You’ve been let out twice this week!”

Aurora laughs, “I know I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Hopefully now he’ll start letting me go out alone again.”

“Unlikely,” is the only response Landon offers.

“Overprotective, heavy handed pillock.”

“Yes love,” he nods his head, “not going to change either. You’re hurt so I’m in charged and I say that I’m not leaving your side for more than twenty minutes at a time.”

Clara takes pity on Aurora, “how’s the wedding planning going?”

“Terrible because Mr Heavy handed over there won’t just let us elope.”

“Ignore her Miss Delos,” Landon says authoritatively, “she knows just as well as I do that both our mother’s would skin us alive if we even considered eloping. Although Aurora,” he turns towards his fiancée, “if you are serious I checked the weather this morning. It’s sunny in Gretna all week.”

“I’m not eloping to Gretna Green!” Aurora slapped him across the head, “you pain in the arse.”

“Your shoulder seems to be doing well, Aurora,” I say.

“Very. It’s all the exercise I’m doing slapping this one round the head.”

“We’re normally so civilised. I don’t know what’s happened,” Landon whispers to me, “I think she might be pregnant.”

“I’m not pregnant Landon!” Aurora is fuming now, “you are just an insufferable arse.”

“As I was saying...” Landon puts a serious look on his face, “it’s been a pleasure taking time off work to care for my angel, even though she doesn’t appreciate it.”

Aurora shakes her head, “he needs to go back to work. His brain is muddled without it. He thinks he’s actually funny. I fell in love with him for his moody good looks and I got stuck with Mr Heavy Handed Comedian.”

We all laugh loudly at that, Landon included, “she’s right. I do need to start working again. We’ll start small though. I’ll do a bit more from home. You’ve done a very good job Andrew.”

“Thank you sir,” I reply.

“You’re welcome. It’s only the truth.”

CHAPTER Nine: Clara

I’m sat at my desk responding to an email from my friend Anna. It’s Friday yet again and I’m about to call quits for the week. We’re all going round to Mike and Sarah’s house for dinner tonight. I’m really looking forward to seeing my friends even if I know they are going to ask me a million and one questions about Andrew. Speaking about Andrew, he should be here any moment. Ever since my very first day at TRW he has made a habit of hounding me just before I’m due to leave. Anna thinks I should invite Andrew to dinner but I have completely chickened out. My stomach keeping flipping and I’m grateful I haven’t eaten since lunch time. I check the clock. He’s usually here by now. I’m anxious to see him. It’s insane how much things can change in a week. A week ago, the idea of him hovering in my office doorway, smirking at me would have been something to avoid. Now it’s something I crave.

I consider packing my things away. Perhaps he’s busy. But I know that wouldn’t stop him saying goodbye to me. I think this might actually be his favourite time of day, the moment when he gets to hound my arse. It’s quickly becoming my favourite time of day too. I don’t look up when I hear my door open. I know it’s not Maya, she knocks all the time now. Besides, I can feel him. My body is hyperaware of him. My lips burn with an expectancy for of his kiss and my skin tingles in need of his touch. I refuse to look up. I won’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I open the top draw of my desk, “I got you a present.”

“A present?” he’s smirking. I know because I can hear it in the tone of his voice. I hear the click of the door closing behind him.

I throw the green apple across the room aiming for his forehead but his response is ridiculously quick and he catches it in one hand much to my disappointment. “Thanks Princess...” he throws the apple into the air before catching it. I pretend not to watch but he’s hard to resist. “Fancy sharing it?” he offers almost sweetly.

He steps towards me, walking around my desk until he’s leant against it directly in front of me, invading my personal space in that way that he’s made a habit of since we were teenagers. I press my thighs together. My body wants him; even here and now in my office with a whole team of people just outside the door. I don’t speak. I’m not sure I’d make much sense if I tried. Instead I just watch as he lifts the apple to his mouth and takes a bite. “Juicy,” he offers me the apple.

I bite into it, not taking my eyes off him. Whoever thought that sharing an apple could be erotic? But the sight of him swallowing his bite of apple is enough to make me want to moan but I restrain myself. I’m not sure I like how he affects me. It’s intimidating and overwhelming because as much as he makes me feel so so good, he also has the potential to make me feel worse than bad. I think he could destroy me if he tried. “It’s a good apple,” I say with a composed voice that is in complete contrast to how I actually feel.

“I want to kiss you,” he says huskily and I’m grateful for the evidence that he’s affected too.

“You can’t.” I need us to try and keep things professional at work. It’s important to me. It’s the only safety net I have.

“Like hell I can’t,” he seizes me and pulls me into his arms, “princess you are killing me.”

His lips are on mine within seconds, his apple lying on my desk forgotten. Time stops then and it’s as if we’re somewhere else. A place where I don’t have to worry about what our colleagues might say. A place where I don’t have to worry that we’re not being professional. A place where I don’t over think the details. A place where I don’t have to worry about the consequences if this all goes wrong. My body craves his touch and it curls around him in response. His hands are in my hair. The hair that had been in a tidy bun not two minutes ago is now flowing down my back. Always one to push the boundaries, Andrew’s hand moves to my thigh until he’s pushing his hand under the fabric of my skirt, “Andrew!” I try to chastise him but I can’t because I’m moaning wantonly and I don’t want to deny myself the pleasure he’s promising. His fingers are inside me, burning me. “Someone might walk in...”

“It’s okay,” he smirks as he rubs my clit with his thumb. How can he say that? This is so far from okay. We could get caught and as much as my body doesn’t care, my mind does. The small rational part of me that isn’t over run with desire tells me that anyone could walk in and see us like this. I’m still new here and he’s covering for the boss. It looks bad. More importantly, I’m the one who’d be painted in a bad light if this got out. He bites down on my bottom lip. I’m fucking myself on his fingers, grinding my sex into his palm. This is so very far from where we were a week ago. He removes his hand before I can find my release causing me to growl at him. “Now now princess,” he chuckles, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I ask. He’s lost me. It’s probably because I’m unable to concentrate on anything except the need between my thighs. He’s going to leave me like this. I think I might hate him after all.

“Our date,” he tells me.

“Date?”

“I promised dating.”

“What about right now though?” I ask and I sound desperate. It makes me blush with embarrassment. I don’t want to need him. I don’t want to give him that sort of power over me.

He smirks for just a second, enjoying my need. “You have plans with your friends,” he sighs and I realise it isn’t just me who is being denied right now.