Hugging her bag a little closer, something deep inside told her that wasn’t the case. She knew Dale and Jackson well, and what she’d seen was most definitely out of the ordinary. But why did that thrill her? What was it about the thought of Dale and Jackson together that was so damn sexy?
She didn’t know, but as she rested her head back and closed her eyes, an image of them naked, hot, sweaty and full of passion besieged her. Two honed and toned men, hard and ready for action, not holding back as they released their lust. It was something she’d be happy to watch any day of the week.
A small giggle burst upward and she pressed her fingers to her lips, opened her eyes and checked no one was staring at her. They weren’t. How dirty were her thoughts? Deliciously so. Hardly surprising, it had been months since she’d had any action. Romantic interludes with Billy had become easy to dodge and she’d gone from trying to orchestrate them to avoiding them.
Right now, the thought of being in bed with him was enough to put her off the microwave-meal-for-one she had waiting at home in the refrigerator.
Jenny stuck to her guns about having the next evening off, despite Billy pestering her three times while she was in the office. He whined and begged on the phone for so long, Stella asked if she was okay.
Jenny rolled her eyes and nodded before quickly ending the call.
“Trouble?” Stella asked.
“”Not exactly, just trying to ease up on the amount I do at Billy’s club.”
“Ah, I see.”
“It’s too much, and with a big match coming up, it’s more than I can do in a few hours each evening.”
“Each evening?” Stella looked shocked.
“Yes.” Jenny was embarrassed to admit it. “Well, not tonight. Tonight I’m going straight home for a soak in the bath, a glass of wine and a movie.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Stella, can I have you in here for a moment?”
Andre Bramon stood in his office door. He wore a crisp new light blue suit and his hair was freshly cut. He really was an exceptionally good-looking man.
“Sure.” Stella smiled at him, then reached out and put her hand over Jenny’s. “If there’s ever anything I can do, just let me know.”
Jenny’s heart swelled with gratitude. It had been a long time since she’d had a friend like Stella. “Okay, I will…thank you.”
Stella nodded then walked in the direction of Andre’s office. When she reached it Tristan Wainwright came out of his adjacent office. His strides were purposeful and long, and his face set in its usual serious expression. He also entered Andre’s office then shut the door, blocking the three of them from sight. Jenny wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard the lock flick, sealing them inside together.
She tipped her head. Why would they do that? The two attractive partners and their pretty personal assistant all closed in? She could understand if Andre wanted some time alone with Stella, Jenny had had suspicions for a while that he had the hots for his secretary, and once had caught them standing close, definitely invading each other’s personal space. But Tristan too?
It didn’t make sense.
Or did it?
Were the three of them an item?
Running her fingers through her hair, Jenny sighed. What was it with her imagination lately? She was seeing things and adding them up into nonsense situations. Chances were she was all wrong about Dale and Jackson too.
The day came to an end, and after flicking her cell off, so she couldn’t be disturbed, Jenny headed home.
The evening was bright and she flung open the windows in her apartment and let the scents and sounds of spring float in. With a glass of chardonnay poured, she ran the bath and added a generous amount of bubbles. Her feet didn’t ache as badly as they usually did, but her limbs were tired, an accumulation of long, hectic days.
“Perfect,” she said, sinking into the hot water and closing her eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”
****
“This is wrong, all bloody wrong.” Billy stood before her, his cheeks red and his mouth a harsh line.
“Why is it?” Jenny reached for the piece of paper he was shaking between them.
“It’s the order for the Jackson v Grinder posters, to go in the boxes outside the club. They’ve arrived and they’re the wrong dimensions.”