5 Days a Week: Tuesday (contemporary office romance) (4 page)


She shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t matter,” she told him. She wouldn’t be needing them anymore.



Part 2: Afternoon



Shelly was standoffish again. She seemed distracted at lunch, barely spoke more than two words to him. His day had gone from low to high to low again. He didn’t know what to think.


He spent most of his break at his desk, feigning interest in his work to not let Shelly know that her aloofness was affecting him.


Amber Matthews


“Come on sweetiepie,” Amber leaned over, gave her lover a kiss on the cheek, felt the clammy heat of his stubbled skin against her lips. They had only just gotten out of the tub, their skin still wrinkly from the water. They shared a bottle of wine in there, lost themselves in each other.


Now they were naked on the bed, exhausted and drying with the windows wide open.


She felt him stir when she kissed her, they’d had sex half a dozen times, he should be shriveled up and spent by now, but every time she kissed him or touched him, every time he saw her naked breasts or the curve of her back or the heart-shaped pattern she had shaven into her pussy, he wanted her more.


He moved to her, hooked a leg sluggishly over her. “You want to go again?”


She giggled, moved her face away from his seductive and eager kiss. “No,” she said. “You need to phone a taxi, he’ll be back in a couple of hours.


Phillips gave her a pouty expression, his bottom lip stuck out in a sulky manner.


“He’ll catch us,” she insisted.




?” she parroted. “We’ll lose everything we’ve been working for,” she said, lifting herself up on her elbows.  “We need to catch him cheating so we can have his money. If he catches me...” she shrugged. She didn’t want to think of the possibilities of giving him control in a divorce settlement. She had nothing without him, he would make sure she returned to that. She would still have Phillips and he wasn’t exactly poor, but with Ian’s money they’d be so much better off and she would have her own nest egg.


“Okay,” he said with a sigh. He sat up, yawned, stretched and then flopped down on top of her. “But just one more.”


She giggled hysterically, jokingly prying him away from her as he nuzzled her neck and twisted his leg over hers, his erection poking into her leg, edging closer towards her moist sex which had already seen enough action in one day to last her a week.




She spent the rest of the morning thinking about it, slacking with her work as she racked her brain. Then she made up her mind.


She was going to tell him. She didn’t have any other choice. She didn’t care about Sissy, didn’t care what the little tart would think of her, if she told Matthews about her conversation with the assistant, told him what she had seen and what Sissy had asked her to do, then he would protect her. He certainly wouldn’t fire her. She would be throwing Sissy under the bus but part of her, a cynical and raw side that remembered how mean Sissy had been and how she had taken a peaceful night with Mark away from her, thought she deserved that.


She was short with Mark at lunch, she couldn’t help that, but she didn’t think he had noticed. He had a lot of work on and quickly went back to his desk.


She waited for Matthews to go to the kitchen but he didn’t, he stayed locked up in his office. She heard him grumbling in there. He sounded annoyed. She thought about knocking and asking if she could have a quiet word, but she lost her nerve.


Then, a couple of hours later, she saw him leaving his office, walking through the main floor. A decisiveness that she didn’t know she had took over. She called to him, attracted his attention. It felt like someone else had done it, a different part of her -- perhaps the same part that wanted Sissy to suffer.


She was going to tell him right there in the hustle and bustle of the workfloor. Probably for the best, she reasoned. He wasn’t likely to blow his top or get angry at her with everyone else around.


Ian Matthews


He was still wound up. He felt like he was ready to explode. The coffee hadn’t helped, even a nip of the scotch he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk hadn’t helped. He needed to go home, have a bigger drink and fuck his wife. That would calm his nerves. He realized that he could also tell her, just incase Sissy used their breakup and the incident in the street as a motive to tell Amber, but he doubted she would. They were finished now, she had nothing to gain from telling Amber anything.


He left the office a couple of hours earlier, while everyone was still at work. He didn’t need to be there for them, didn’t need to supervise them. Simone would keep an eye on things, it was her job to escort the last of them out and make sure the place was locked up.


“Mr Matthews, can I have a word?”


The new girl called to him as walked with hurried steps out of his office. He paused to study her, wondered if she could relieve his tension better than his wife could.


He didn’t think about it long. She wasn’t anything special, but he had already tried to go down that route and, for whatever reason, she didn’t seem to be interested. He turned away, “Not now,” he told her.


He noticed the sly smile that Simone gave him when he walked by the front desk, he paused to tell her that he was leaving early and wouldn’t be back, was ready to ask her to phone his wife to tell her he would be back early. From Simone’s reaction on the phone he could gauge if she would be waiting for him with a hacksaw and a murderous grin, or if he had any chance of her waiting with one of her sexy nightdresses that he liked so much.


He didn’t like the look in Simone’s eyes though, a look that suggested a lot but said nothing. He weighed her up, noticed how the grin never faltered from her face.


“Can I help you?” she asked him eventually.


He studied her some more and then shook his head. He patted the desk, looked away, thought about telling her again and then dismissed it, saying nothing more than, “I’m going.”


“Will you be long?” she asked.


He didn’t answer. In his mind he was already home, already suckling on his wife’s tits and a tumbler full of expensive whiskey.


Amber Matthews


Phillips rose from the sofa when he heard the taxi pull up outside. The day was dimming, afternoon gradually shifting to evening, and he saw the strong beam of the headlights cutting through the living room window and the glass panels in the door.


He was already dressed, all ready to leave. He stopped in the hallway to give Amber one last goodbye kiss.


“I’ll see you on Friday,” he told her, tracing a finger down her cheek, smiling at the disappointment on her face, disappointment that always appeared whenever he had to leave.


“It’s so long.”


He shrugged. “That’s what you get when you spend all night sleeping half naked in a closet; schedules get rearranged.”


She smiled at him, partly happy that he hadn’t entirely blown his job for her; partly disappointed that she wouldn’t see him for a few days. They heard a car door open on the driveway, heard it shut and lock.


“I’ll miss you,” she said honestly.


“I’l miss you too.”


They kissed; a long, warm and pleading kiss, one they both knew had to make up for the next few days, when he would have nothing but work and she would have nothing but her husband.


They were still in each other’s embrace, their lips still locked, when the front door opened.


They were lost in the moment, almost didn’t realize that it wasn’t standard practice for a taxi driver to walk through the front door. They didn’t react until they heard Ian speak:


“I don’t fucking believe it.”




Shelly looked distant. She had something on her mind, something that was forcing her into a state of melancholy. His fears and paranoia had told him that her dismissive state at lunch had been because of him, but his rationality now told him otherwise.


She was a beautiful woman and she didn’t wear melancholy well. It upset him just to see her in that state. He went over to console her, gave her a warming smile and asked if she wanted to share a coffee in the kitchen. She agreed.


After they made their coffees, sat down and exchanged pleasing smiles, she told him everything in every detail.


“We all knew,” he told her when she had finished. “Although clearly they don’t
we know.”


Shelly sighed. “I really don’t want this hanging over me,” she said. “I don’t know how Sissy’s going to react, what she’s going to do. She seems like the devious sort.”


Mark nodded, he had assumed the same thing.


“The longer I leave it without telling Matthews, the more chance I’m giving her to manipulate him.”


“You need to tell him as soon as you can. It’s no skin off your nose,” Mark said. “I don’t think he’ll be too happy, but if he’s annoyed, he has no reason to be annoyed at


Shelly nodded, looking troubled. “I think he’s finished for the day,” she noted. I saw him leave.”


“It’s okay,” Mark took out his phone, jabbed in a few numbers and then showed her the screen. “I have his mobile number.”


She raised her eyebrows quizzically, wondering what he was doing with the boss’s number.


Mark gave her a knowing grin.  “At one point he insisted we all have his number, so we could contact him if we needed his help of guidance.”




Mark nodded. “Christmas party I believe, he was drunk. Most of the others dismissed it, I kept it. Just in case.”


Shelly shifted uncomfortably. “And you think I should phone him? Now?”


Mark could see her agitation and discomfort. “Not now, no. I’ll phone him for you after work.”


“I don’t think--”


“It's okay. I won’t tell him you know, I’ll tell him you told me the story in strictest confidence it’ll be okay,” he side, putting his hand on his heart to offer her his promise and giving her a cheeky smile.


She gave him a long hard stare and slowly allowed a smile to creep onto her face.


“Thank you,” she said warmly.


“You’re welcome. But, I want something in return.” He dropped the phone in his pocket, stood up. “I want you to accompany me for drinks after work, finish off what Sissy interrupted last night.”


Shelly beamed. “I’d love to.”



Part 3: Evening






Mr Matthews had something on his mind, something he clearly couldn’t get off his chest before he left work for the day. Simone loved to see him squirm, loved to see the discomfort on his face as he struggled with his own inner turmoil. She didn’t know what was eating him, but guessed that his problem was probably sex related. His life was run by sex, either with Sissy, his wife or any other woman he could get his hands on. Simone had turned him down that day, Sissy hadn’t shown up; Matthews was probably ready to explode.


She’d had a good day and had felt content throughout. She hadn’t gotten what she wanted, hadn’t started the game just yet, but she knew she was just waiting for the right time. She hummed softly to herself as the day progressed, smiled warmly at the workers as they filled out at the end of the shift. She noted that the new girl looked very friendly with Mark. He was a handsome man, seemed a little weird and even awkward at times, but she had noticed similar traits in the new girl. They were probably a perfect match.

Other books

Aura by Abraham, M.A.
The Marlowe Conspiracy by M.G. Scarsbrook
The Favoured Child by Philippa Gregory
The Hand of Fu Manchu by Sax Rohmer
The Girl From Number 22 by Jonker, Joan