“Oi,” Charlie yelled when I went to follow them out. “Get back here, you’ve got work to be doing. A deal’s a deal.”
Shit. I’d forgotten about that. “How about tomorrow?”
“Jasper.”
“Fine. I’m going to pop out for a minute with these two and get a couple of photos, and I’ll be right back.” I slung my messenger bag on the counter and pushed it toward him. “Collateral.”
I bolted before he could argue—and he would—and hurried after Craig and Kevin.
I snapped about twenty pics, declined to let Craig choose his favourite, and watched them go.
“Listen, Charlie,” I was already saying when I marched back in. I was going to hold up my end of the deal, but I was going to negotiate. Article first, then I’d come back and do whatever Charlie wanted. “I am on a deadline here, and—oh.”
I stopped dead when I saw Liam standing at the counter.
He raised his eyebrows at me.
Say something.
Say something!
Anything!!!
I opened my mouth and something definitely came out, but it wasn’t so much a word as a sound.
One second I was Jasper the intrepid journalist, ready to crash through any and all barriers to get his story to the presses. The next second, I was reliving that moment when Liam was pressing me into my mattress and moving over me, watching me, and—
I moaned.
It wasn’t loud, or like a porn moan, but it was not a normal sound to making in a crowded coffee shop, that was for sure.
Liam closed his eyes briefly, nodded to Charlie, and collected his coffee. He said to me as he passed, “Morning.”
“Hi,” I breathed, andkillme. Just—
“What,” said Charlie, “the fuck was that?”
“Shut up,” I said.
I did my best to convince Charlie to let me come back later to do the mopping or tray collecting or whatever menial tasks he’d been stacking up for me. He wasn’t having any of it.
I rushed around, cleared and wiped down every unoccupied table, emptied the bins, and emptied and reloaded their little dishwasher. I cleaned the employees’ toilet, cleaned the window, mopped up two spilled drinks, told Charlie that next time I’d go and pee in the back alley behind the shop and he couldn’t stop me, and left.
I was cutting it fine.
16
Isat in my car, fumbling desperately at my phone.
I hadn’t realised how late it was. Charlie didn’t let me go until lunchtime, and I was beginning to have doubts about whether or not I was going to be able to make it.
Yes!
Yes, I was. No quitter talk.Dig deep. You can do it!
I gritted my teeth and thumbed in another few words.
There were people out there—and this boggled my mind—who wrote entire books on their phones.