The Chic Boutique On Baker Street. Rachel Dove

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СКАЧАТЬ watch. Amanda turned her admiring gaze swiftly back into a glare and she returned to the commercial lease she had been poring over for the last two days. She felt his eyes on her. Sighing, she met his eyes, anger fuelling the feeling in her gut.

      ‘Marcus, I have said this before, our personal life does not come into this office, ever! I don’t want to talk about last night. You stood me up, again. Remember Saturday? You are a git. End of conversation. Now, I am busy, so, please, close the door after you.’

      Marcus stood up, walked over to the side of the desk and knelt down beside her. Amanda flushed at his proximity, and willed her cheeks not to betray the fluttering in her chest. ‘Marcus …’

      ‘Amanda, I am so sorry. It just got too late to call, we had the Japanese clients fly in unexpectedly, I couldn’t just blow them off. I am so sorry! It was a late one and, when I did get a chance to call, your phone was off. And I explained about Saturday, my mother was in town. Did you really want me to not see my mother when she had come to London to see me?’

      Amanda paused. She liked how attentive to his mother he was, always on the phone to her, spending time with her when she came into town. Last night she was furious, but she did turn her phone off in anger before she went to bed, having waited for two hours, dressed up to go to a dinner that never happened. Again. Softening slightly, she nodded slowly.

      ‘OK, fair point, but I have a busy life too, Marcus. A call or even a text earlier would have been nice. I could have worked late.’

      Marcus stuck his bottom lip out, pouting like a child at the girl he was dating.

      ‘I know, pookie, I am sorry.’

      Amanda rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t call me “pookie”, I am not a bimbo. Now let me get to work, I have lots to do today and you dribbling on my desk is counterproductive.’

      Marcus grinned then, bouncing back upright. ‘Thanks, babe, I mean Amanda. I will make it up to you, I promise.’

      Amanda raised her eyebrows at him and pointed to the door, before returning to her work, feeling slightly better about her morning. Marcus swaggered to the door and paused with the handle in his hand, a gap showing the offices outside.

      ‘Oh and, Miss Perry, I emailed you a contract to look over, for the Kamimura account. Would you give it a look?’

      Amanda’s fingers stilled on her keyboard. She had a busy workload, and that account was not hers to work on, it was his!

      ‘Why can’t you attend to that, Mr Beresford? It is your account,’ she retorted, trying to keep the indignation out of her voice, aware that they once again had an audience. Marcus pursed his lips sheepishly.

      ‘Ah, well, the clients have booked a golf session for this afternoon, so I am leaving the office now till tomorrow.’

      Amanda’s jaw dropped, and her mouth flapped as she struggled to form coherent words. Sighing, she gritted her teeth and nodded.

      ‘Fine, Mr Beresford, I will take a look. If I get time.’

      Marcus winked at her, smirking.

      ‘Why, thank you, Miss Perry. I will need it by five.’ Before she could answer, he swiftly pulled the door to and she heard Elaine gushing over his attentions outside her office. She ran her hands over her tight ponytail and then pushed away from her desk sharply, swivel chair barrelling in the wall behind her. She reached into her bag and pulled out her little key. She then buzzed her secretary, who could be heard outside giggling.

      ‘Elaine, I am not to be disturbed for the next hour, hold all calls, and get me the Kamimura files. Please,’ she added as an afterthought.

      She locked her office door and opened the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. Running her fingers along the brown paper, her stress started to melt away. She selected a magazine and sat behind her desk, pulling her legs up on the chair. After pulling up her Pinterest account, she started to read the magazine, adding ideas to boards as she went along, sighing contentedly, whilst outside her sanctuary, the legal world forged on. At least in here, she could be herself. If the week went on like this, she would be spending her free time making voodoo dolls to stick pins into.

       Five

      Amanda awoke on Thursday morning to the sound of birdsong coming in through her open bedroom window. As always, it took her a little while to adjust to where she was, and resist the urge to dive out of bed and check her emails from work. Smiling, she thumbed through her hangers, settling on a pleated cream skirt that swished as she walked, and a thin cream camisole with embroidered flowers around the dipped neckline. She looked down at her shoes, all lined up in the bottom of the wardrobe, spying her green suede pumps with dismay. She hadn’t been able to get the blood out, yet she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away either. They sat there, among her other footwear, a little reminder of the day she had met Ben. Not the best memory, it had to be said, but she left the shoes sitting with their buddies all the same. Cringing at her own sentimentality, she picked up a similar pair, this time in a light grey colour, and slipped them onto her bare feet.

      A quick brush of her hair, a slick of dusty pink lip gloss, and she was dressed. Looking into her cheval mirror—another junk shop find with her magic worked on it—she did a double-take of the girl staring back at her. Her brown hair loosely framed her face, which now looked well rested and less drawn than in recent weeks. Her outfit was pretty, casual and summery, and matched the weather streaming through the muslin voiles, which framed her large bay bedroom window. She smiled at her reflection and headed for the stairs to the shop, hoping to everything holy that she had a good day. Amanda was realistic—she had never thought that she would open to an instant success, but now, with no income, and her life savings all literally in one basket, the business had to work, as for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what direction her life was heading towards.

      Still, she had three working days left till Sunday, her day off. She could come up with some ideas. She had seen a flyer for the summer fair—maybe she could set up a stall, showcase her goods and services, get the word of mouth out. She made a mental note to find out more.

      She unlocked the front door to open the window shutter, and was faced with a mesmerising pair of grey eyes.

      ‘Oh, sorry! We have to stop doing this,’ a deep voice gently said.

      Amanda flustered, panicked at his words, till she realised he was talking about bumping into each other. She mentally brushed off the sinking feeling she had, and smiled thinly.

      ‘Sorry, Ben, I was just opening up.’

      He smiled back, matching her wary half-smile, and reached out and took the shutter key from her. A spark zinged up her fingers as his brushed hers, and she shivered. Looking at Ben, she saw his slightly shocked expression, mirroring hers, before he turned away. Man, he has nice eyes, she thought to herself. Ben turned away from her, deftly unlocking and lifting the shutters, and she found herself watching him. His muscles twitched as he pushed up on the cold steel, and she idly wondered what was under his white cotton shirt. His buttons were open at the neck, showing off a tanned throat with a sprinkling of dark hair peeking out from underneath. She bit her lip as she imagined running her hand over his bare chest, his curls twitching around her fingers as …

      ‘You OK?’

      Amanda’s СКАЧАТЬ