her to speak but the way his eyes glazed in a gleam had Stevie taking a deep breath.
“Out of all the advertising companies in Melbourne, I’m stuck with you?” she asked, unbelievably.
He grinned and nodded at the same time. Repeatedly. “We sure are.”
“Ah, Stevie, I see you’ve met the company’s newest consultant. He’s one of the best, and he’ll be overlooking how management does its job. Mr Moors is here to improve the firm and make sure we remain number one,” Mr Rogers explained.
The wrinkles around Rogers’ eyes deepened as he introduced Julian to her; no doubt proud that he’d secured Julian’s services.
So in theory, Julian is a gigolo for businesses.
What a whore!
She smiled to be polite, but internally, she was going to track down whoever decided to specifically hire Julian Moors and make sure they died a slow and painful death.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Moors.” She dragged out his title and noticed his lip twitch.
Guess we’re playing this.
“And you, too,” Julian replied.
Rogers buttoned his suit jacket and then walked past her cubicle. Julian didn’t move, still grinning at her.
“Mr Moors, shall I have you meet the other bosses?” Rogers asked as he made his way towards his office.
“I’ll see you at lunch, Stephanie.” Julian winked as he left.
When Stevie heard Rogers’ office door close, she glanced at the clock. It was 11:32 a.m. When it hit noon, she would disappear into the records room or any department that meant she wouldn’t have to see him for lunch.
Great.
Now I have to avoid the man I lost my virginity to in my own workplace.
Karma, you’re a real bitch!
Success had been achieved. And for that, she smiled as she opened the front door of her best friend’s apartment. Stevie had managed to evade Julian as much possible. When she had to walk past the bosses’ offices, she’d pretend to be staring at the folder or hold the report so that it covered her face. She’d swore she saw him chuckle and shake his head at one point during the day. It had been awkward. She had felt awkward.
I need to quit or get fired.
Quitting is more dignifying but being fired means I don’t need to write my resignation letter.
But Papa would not be happy.
Dammit.
She walked into the hallway and dropped her keys on the table. “Fuck my life,” Stevie sighed as she stepped out of her heels and trudged into the kitchen. The moment she lifted her eyes from the floor, she groaned. “And fuck it harder.”
Clara turned her head and their eyes met. Her best friend cleared her throat as a blush overtook her cheeks.
“Stevie, you’re home!” Clara said, surprised.
“Jesus Christ, you two. You guys are at it like bloody rabbits.”
A shirtless Noel kissed his wife and helped her off the bench. “What? I can’t kiss my beautiful wife, Stevie?”
Stevie shook her head. “Not on surfaces we eat off. Please tell me you two haven’t had sex on the counter?”
Noel grinned. “Not today we haven’t.”
“Noel!” Clara exclaimed as she tucked her blouse back into her skirt.
“I’m surprised Clara isn’t pregnant alread—” Stevie stopped. “Wait, are you pregnant?”
Clara kept quiet as she buttoned her blouse.
“No,” Noel answered for her but then stared at his silent wife. “Wait, baby?”
Clara smiled and then let out a light laugh. Her hands were on his hips as she kissed him on the cheek. “No, love, I’m not. I want you all to myself for a little longer, if that’s okay.”
Noel grinned as he lovingly gazed down at his wife. As much as their affections disgusted her, Stevie couldn’t help but love the way Noel looked at Clara. And most times, she was jealous.
“Hmm, I can wait,” Noel said.
“I can’t,” Stevie interrupted. “I want to be an aunty before I’m fifty, but the way you two are at it, I’ll be one before my next birthday.”
The instant Clara’s eyes met Stevie’s, her smile faded and her lips pursed. “Baby, could you let me bake with Stevie for a bit?” Clara asked.
Noel kissed Clara’s temple before he crouched and grabbed his shirt from the floor. “I’ll start packing for your dad’s then.”
He had disappeared before Stevie could tell him to stay. Then Clara picked up her apron and tied it around her. “Talk.”
Stevie approached the bench and leant over it. “About?”
Clara grasped her icing bag and then squinted at her. “Your day.”
“I lived.”
“Stevie,” Clara said firmly. “How was your first day?”
Stevie let out a sigh and sat on the barstool. Clara iced a cupcake before putting