Page 16 of Where She Is
As much as I don’t like it, I have to accept what has happened and put it down to another experience. A different one, granted. I don’t think I’ve ever walked away just before the juicy bit. Ever. Never mind the fact he’s my boss’s boss. Only timewould tell if it was the right thing to do. I’ve got to get a grip on myself when it comes to men. Especially a beautiful Australian one, but I can’t get him out of my head.
A horrible, empty feeling fills me as I open my front door. Now I’ve left the Grant’s vibrant, colourful home, the solitude of my one-bedroom flat isn’t so welcoming. I realise how lucky I am to stay in such a beautiful location. I’m six floors up and my view over Sydney Harbour still sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. When I open the door which leads onto my balcony, I hear the sounds of Darlinghurst life below me. I should be thankful, not wallowing in self-pity. I need to pull myself out of this rut and get busy, so I unpack and wash my clothes from the weekend. I shower, throw on my comfy tracksuit bottoms, and begin a long email to Lucy. There is so much to tell her and it seems as if we haven’t been in contact for so long, even though I spoke to her four days ago.
As I furiously type away, my phone vibrates. I don’t recognise the number, but the company has landed a huge contract, ironically, in the UK. It’s so late, but I knew I’d have to work some odd hours because of it. I answer in my sing-song voice, “Good evening. This is Hannah May.”
I attempt to sound upbeat, but then his deep sexy tones drown my eardrums causing a swirl of images before my bleary eyes.
“Hello, Hannah May.”
I pause for a second. “How… how did you get my number?”
“I’m a partner, Hannah. I have everyone’s number.”
“Of course, you do,” I mumble.
A heavy silence separates us briefly. When he speaks, there’s an element of weariness to his voice, or it could be sadness. “I wanted to say sorry about what happened.”
I want to speak again, but the lump in my throat blocks my vocal cords. My legs curl defensively under my body as the tips of my fingers soothe my worried brow and I close my eyes. Mybreath is the only sound as I exhale and then clear my painful throat to talk. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I treated you badly. I’m the one that should apologise. Have I pissed you off?”
He laughs while I wonder if I’m too familiar with him, but I thought we were over the exec and PA thing.
“I’m not pissed off. Hurt and disappointed you didn’t stay, but not pissed off.”
Shit. Now I feel worse. He used the ‘H’ and the ‘D’ word. Double blow!
“God, it’s not you. It’s just I’d already made my mind up about one-night stands and rushed relationships. I can’t risk any more heartbreak. I’m sorry.”
He exaggerates a sigh. “I didn’t phone to get an apology, but thanks anyway.”
I’m such a twat. What if he wants to talk business? “Oh?”
“I knew there had to be a reason you ran away. You’ve said it yourself, you didn’t want a one-night stand. I’m unsure what it was that made you decide it could be, but if I’m just after a fuck, I don’t make polite conversation for hours beforehand.”
“Oh,” I won’t deny I’m surprised by his blatant honesty.
“So, I wondered if I could see you again.”
“Um...”I want to. I really want to, but…
“I’m sure there was something going on between us. Am I alone here or—”
“No, not at all. It’s just… maybe… I got the wrong impression.”
“And what impression was that?”
“I’m not sure… I’ve heard some stuff and—”
The worry is clear in his tone when he interrupts. “Heard or read?”
I tell a white lie and regret it as soon as it leaves my mouth. “I Googled you.” I don’t want him to know that Richard is my source of information. It will only cause problems for my boss.
“Right.” His disappointment is obvious.
“I’m sorry.”
A heavy sigh leaves his lips, “I thought you would. I want to say I don’t know why you did, but I’d be lying.”
“Really?”
