Fast And Loose

He sat down, yawning, on my other side and dumped his backpack under the desk before swivelling to stare at me.

‘Why’s that then?’

‘Oh, just thought she looked a bit tired, that’s all,’ said Tilda archly. ‘Like she needs a bit more sleep.’

She gave Miles a meaningful look which was lost on him, but which I at last understood. Tilda had been making these weird oblique remarks to Miles about me for weeks. And now I understood why – everybody knew that he fancied me.

It was nice to be in on the secret, even if I was the last to know.

‘Oh,’ said Miles. ‘Why’s that, then? Late one, was it?’

This seemed to satisfy Tilda that we hadn’t been secretly at it all night long, and she turned to her desk to log in.

‘Just a few drinks with my flatmates,’ I mumbled, following suit.

Miles grunted and lumbered off to the coffee machine.

Not my type, I thought, following him with my eyes. Too simian, and that stoop – why didn’t he walk tall? Like Tom. Mmm. Tom. Bleurgh.

My phone rang twice. An external ring. Unusual, especially for this time in the morning. Mum or Dad?

I picked it up.

‘Morning, Foxy.’

I nearly dropped the receiver.

‘Oh’ was all I found to say.

‘You can walk, then?’

‘Just about.’

He chuckled. ‘I mean, your ankle.’

‘Yes,’ I said, bending low to the desk to avoid being overheard. ‘That’s what I meant.’

‘Just wanted to make sure I hadn’t…incapacitated you…in any way.’

‘I thought you had a breakfast meeting.’

‘Yeah, done that. Stale croissants, bloody cheek. Anyway, speaking of bloody cheek…’

‘Were we?’

‘Mm, I’m thinking about cheeks now. And I don’t mean the ones on your face.’

Tom! It was on the tip of my tongue, but a throat-clearing from Tilda brought me to my senses. I would have to keep my words neutral or risk the third degree.

‘Though I’m not into drawing blood,’ he continued thoughtfully. ‘So literal bloody cheek isn’t quite what I have in mind. A nice bit of red flush, though…mmm.’

‘Did you call me for a reason?’ I muttered, beyond flustered.

‘Yes, I did,’ he said. ‘Did you set up that account on Safeword.com?’

‘Oh…not yet. I’ll do it later.’

I’d made a start but my brain had failed to co-operate, too preoccupied with Tom and his wily ways. I was in no mood to be penning kinky come-hithers to strangers after all that.

‘You’d better,’ he said, his voice like raw-edged silk. ‘Or you’ll know about it when I see you.’

Now this sounded promising.

‘Oh, will I?’ I said, trying to keep my tone light enough to deflect any attention from my neighbouring desks.

‘Yes, you will,’ he said. ‘And I’m getting a sense that you’re testing me. Do I have to prove that I mean business?’

I gulped. ‘Yes’ or ‘No’? Which was the right answer?

I couldn’t resist it. Despite the danger that surrounded me, I put my lips close to the mouthpiece and said, ‘Maybe you do.’

I could almost hear his smile at the other end.

‘Oh, dear, Foxy, you do have a habit of letting yourself in for it. OK then. As soon as you put the phone down, you’re going to go to the Ladies’ and do two things for me. One, pull the cups of your bra down and keep them that way for the rest of the day…you are wearing a bra, I take it?’

I gave a little yelp of indignant laughter. Mistake. Tilda was on the case right away, her neck tilted in my direction.

‘Of course,’ I hissed.

‘Just checking. I know what you’re like, Ms Cox, you rampant little animal. So, yeah, the bra is number one. Two, take off your knickers and put them in your bag for the rest of the day. You are…?’

I tutted and huffed. ‘Yes, again.’ I paused. ‘Oh, God.’

‘What?’

‘Do I have to?’

‘Yes, you have to. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby at six, to make sure.’

Now this was a thrilling thought, as if I wasn’t thrilled enough.

‘Will you?’

‘You bet. What are you wearing?’

I gave Tilda a swift side-eye. I wasn’t sure I could answer this without arousing suspicion.

‘What do you mean?’ I hedged.