Page 34 of One Month's Notice

“And that’s just with paintbrushes. Wait until you have a proper drum kit, then you’ll see what I’m capable of!”

The pair continued chatting as they disappeared out of the cafe, the door slamming shut behind them.

Nat and Michael stood awkwardly, unsure what to say now that they were alone again. At the start of the evening, the wine had softened Nat’s senses, making her feel warm and fuzzy. But now sobriety was threatening to creep in. She snuck a glance at Michael, who was studying the floor with a sudden intensity. His shoulders were tense, hands shoved in his pockets.

He cleared his throat, running a hand through his dark hair. “Some more music might be nice?”

Nat was relieved he had finally broken the silence. She nodded and flicked the switch on the radio. As she turned up the volume, a slow, sweet melody filled the space between them.

Michael held out his hand once more. “May I have this dance?”

Nat smiled and took his hand. He pulled her in close and they swayed to the music. She breathed in his scent—clean linen and a hint of his cologne.

“You’re a good dancer.” He looked down at her, his voice low.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Nat looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

With their bodies pressed close, she was hyper-aware of every point of contact. His leg against hers, his breath on her ear, the heat of his body. Her skin tingled everywhere they touched. She wondered if he could feel the rapid thump of her heartbeat where her body aligned to his. As she looked up, he tilted his head and their eyes met again. Being this close, she could see the different shades of blue in his eyes. This evening they were mainly azure, like the colour of a clear summer sky. But with flecks of cobalt, that brought a vivid intensity. She could study them for hours.

Nat’s breath caught in anticipation as he leaned in. She closed her eyes as Michael’s lips met hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. At first it was soft and exploratory, both of them a little unsure. Testing to see how the other was responding. But as the kiss deepened, passion ignited between them. Michael’s arms encircled her waist, pulling her against him, and the kiss became more urgent.

They jumped apart as the door burst open. Lexi and Enzo tumbled through, joking around and completely unaware of what they had just interrupted. Nat moved behind the counter and busied herself tidying up the remnants of their impromptu dinner party. Her lips still tingled from the kiss, her mind reeling as she tried to grasp the magnitude of what had just taken place. She had never expected him to kiss her like that, and now her emotions were a tangled mess. Part of her wanted to grab him and pick up where they left off. But the logical part of her knew getting involved with her boss was a terrible idea.

Glancing over at Michael, she could tell he was also flustered. He joined Enzo at the table and soon fell into easy conversation, while Lexi uncorked a fresh bottle of wine. Nat paused to take a deep breath, willing her heart rate to return to normal. It was a mistake, she told herself firmly. A drunken moment of madness. They were both under the influence and had let their guard down. They would never speak of it, and it certainly wouldn’t happen again.

Chapter sixteen

Monday 16th May, daytime

The steady hum of the office greeted Nat as she pushed through the glass doors. Dark strands of hair fell around her face, shielding her from the outside world. She was back from lunch, the salty flavour of a sushi box still lingering on her palate, but her mind was elsewhere, caught up in the memory of the kiss that had triggered something unexpected. Despite her attempts to brush it off as a drunken mistake, she was struggling to ignore the thought that there may be something more. The potential for something to develop between her and Michael.

“Hey, Nat!” The booming voice of Mark from accounting cut through her daydream.

“Hi!” Nat’s eyes widened with forced brightness as she offered a nod to him and a couple of other colleagues who greeted her in passing. She followed the corridors through the building. The soft flow of her loose trousers and simple t-shirt were a stark contrast to the sleek, efficient lines of the corporate environment.

Michael’s absence all morning left a sense of unease that buzzed irritatingly at the back of her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling that their last encounter had shifted some invisible axis within her. She wanted to know if the same might be true for him.

She rounded the corner to his office and noticed the door was ajar. A knot twisted in her stomach as she glanced inside and saw the scene playing out. The woman with impossible-to-miss vibrant red hair was perched beside Michael, leaning in close enough for her perfume to mingle with the air he was breathing.

“See, if you adjust the parameters here…” Clara’s tinny, assertive voice filled the room and floated out into the corridor. Nat could see freshly manicured nails—this time a bright red to match her hair—gliding along the screen to trace invisible lines.

Michael, ever the serious figure, was nodding along, his eyes fixated on the data before him and unaware of Nat’s presence. But as she lingered unnoticed in the doorway, Clara’s eyes flicked up, a spark of unpleasantness igniting within them. With calculated informality, her hands found their way to Michael’s broad shoulders, fingers pressing into the fabric of his tailored jacket. Nat’s heart hammered against her ribs, her eye drawn to every nuance of the deliberate display. Clara smirked at Nat as she leaned in closer to Michael. He remained blissfully ignorant, his attention never wavering from the task at hand. A hot anger flared, painting her cheeks with an unwanted flush of crimson. Without a word, without acknowledgment, she rushed away, desperate to avoid giving Clara the satisfaction of getting under her skin.

The click of her shoes against the tiled floor rang in her ears as she fled the scene, the image of Clara’s hands on Michael branding itself into her thoughts. Nat had always struggled with confidence, her mother’s perfectionism casting a long shadow over her aspirations. And now, with jealousy clawing at her throat, she felt the familiar tug of self-doubt. Despite Michael’s reassurances that there was nothing between them, how could she, in her mix-and-match outfits and unrealistic dreams, compete with someone like Clara? It was another reminder of her failed relationship with Joe and coming second place to another woman.

Nat slumped into her chair, the cushioned back accepting her weight with a soft sigh. She flicked on her monitor, its glow casting a pale light across the clutter of paperwork that sprawled untamed across her desk. Her inbox chimed with the relentless tide of unread emails demanding attention. With each click, she reluctantly worked her way through the digital clutter, the tension coiled tightly within her as her mind replayed the scene in Michael’s office.

“Rough day?” Jamie’s voice sliced through the hum of keyboard tapping and distant phone calls.

She glanced over at him, his own screen reflecting on his glasses.

“You could say that.”

“Let me guess, Clara was flaunting herself around Michael again?” He leaned back in his chair, an eyebrow arching in playful curiosity.

“What makes you say that, and why do you think that would bother me, anyway?” Nat instantly regretted her defensive tone.

“Well, ever since you arrived this morning, you’ve been on edge. I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve walked past Michael’s office to see if he was there.” He paused for a moment. “Then I saw Clara and Michael go into his office while you were out at lunch, and I’m assuming you’ve just come from there?”

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