Page 7 of Tangled Control

A prick whose physical appeal never seems to diminish. He still makes my spine tingle. Some of our spats are so intense that they almost feel like sexual tension.

Like earlier today…

God, the way he looked at me, his black pupils hiding most of the pale grey, his jaw tense, his nostrils flaring. I shake my head to rid myself of the image as I lift the hood of my jacket and start the long walk across town to get home.

***

Cleavage Gemma yawns behind her large takeaway coffee that she’s been clinging to for the last hour. It’s earlier than she normally comes into the office, yet still she has flawless make-up and looks stunning in a way-too-short green dress.

I point down to the last paragraph. Despite her yawns, Gemma has shown an interest in everything I’ve explained and easily picked up on the different nuances in wording of contracts and settlements. I may not approve of Gemma’s office dress sense – or her unprofessional closeness to our boss – but I have to admit she has a good head behind her auburn mane.

“You should ask Mr Kearney if you can take the lead on the legal section of our next contract.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Gemma looks down, smoothing out creases in her dress.

“It would be good developmental work for you. I’ll help with anything you’re unsure of,” I say without thinking it through. If Gemmaisdating Rian, then I don’t want to help her. But still, Gemma is smart enough to succeed on her own merits and doesn’t need to sleep her way to the top.

I also can’t help but like the woman, she has a positive and friendly personality.

“Well, even if you did help me, Rian wouldn’t trust me with it anyway.”

She may have a point. “All you can do is ask, then we’ll take it from there.”

“Okay, thank you.” A big, beautiful smile spreads across Gemma’s face. “I’m surprised you’re still a junior assistant, Catriona. You’re for sure capable of being a senior assistant.”

I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. Hurt always stabs me when thinking of the changes around the time of Harriet – my old manager’s – retirement a few months prior to Rian’s arrival, back when I expected a promotion that didn’t materialise. I had questioned Harriet about it before she left, who had replied that they had to consider the bigger picture and what was best for the company. A promotion was not on the cards for me. So much for KSS investing in me for the future. I had swallowed my disappointment, but it was extra difficult when Gemma, with hardly any work experience, was promoted to my level in the same staff shuffle.

“Well, I hope I’ll be capable if the opportunity presents itself,” I reply vaguely.

“I’m sure you will! And just think of what you could do with the extra money.” She sighs with dreamy eyes.

Some extra money would indeed be welcome. Everything that goes into my account is snapped up by the endless list of standing orders. The interest rates on my apartment are through the roof. There’s not a cent to spare. The evening and weekend editing job pays for my food. A little extra would do wonders for both my wardrobe and social life. My limited number of work outfits don’t sit right on my body anymore. I’ve lost a little weight after taking up running when I moved close to a parkrun. It’s a cheap workout – even joining a running club is much cheaper than paying gym membership.

I nip at a fray on my jacket sleeve. I should really update my wardrobe. Working alongside Gemma and Mona who love to flaunt their extensive range of outfits makes me feel unattractive and anonymous. But I’m good at my job and how I dress doesn’t affect my skills. Rian’s vicious comments about my appearance might hurt, but… I can handle him.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind getting a few new work outfits.” I tuck my hands and the offensive frayed sleeves under my thighs. “I guess the only positive is that the way I dress now, no one can accusemeof trying to sleep my way to the top.”

Shit!Shit, shit– did I just say that? Gemma’s red cheeks tell that the words did indeed cross my lips.

Fuck, that was justrude. I desperately try to come up with something to say that will smooth over my hurtful words, but no words materialise. Instead, I watch with a sinking heart how Gemma tries to pull her dress down to cover more of her legs.

With a significantly less friendly voice than only moments before, Gemma changes the subject back to the contract in front of us. Shortly after, she thanks me for my help and heads over to her own desk, leaving me behind, while regret is biting chunks out of my belly.

Six

Rian

Inever work late, yet here I am, close to seven, still in the office, fixing gaps in the Alton House contract. I could have left it for Catriona to sort out, like I normally do, but it nags at me – a lot – that I was called to Smyth’s office yesterday. I want nothing left to chance.

Gemma helped out earlier but had to leave for some function. I wonder if her announcement of plans was an attempt to make me jealous. She’s probably disappointed that I didn’t make any advances a few nights ago. Well, if jealousy was her goal, she succeeded, because I envy her chance to leave thisfeckingoffice. Instead, I’m stuck here with ice queen Catriona and a table stacked with files, paper and legal books. I’m tired and my muscles ache. I’m sure Catriona feels the same – she’s been in the office since before eight this morning. An unwelcome twitch, similar to guilt, blooms in my chest.Ididn’t arrive until closer to ten and had an almost two-hour-long lunch. Catriona probably had her sandwich at her desk as usual.

“I think that should cover it,” she says, making a couple of notes.

“Good. Another section done. Only one more to go.”

“Thank God.”

I’m about to come back with a snide, and very unfair, remark about her lack of stamina, but my words get stuck in my throat.