In spite of my busyness, Sebastian was never far from my mind. It was strange. I felt like we'd known each other a lot longer than a few weeks. It irked me to admit, but I realised that I missed him.
His text messages certainly didn't help. They started innocently enough.
Sebastian: I'm sorry I had to leave the other night. I wanted to stay, but my hands were tied.
Sophia: That's alright. I know how it is. Is everything okay down there?
Sebastian: Not really. We've had some major setbacks. Hopefully I can get things back on track soon though. I'm already sick of being stuck down here.
I liked that he was thinking of me even when he was busy. It seemed like our argument in my office had done some good.
But as usual with Sebastian, things quickly grew hotter. I started one morning with this exchange.
Sebastian: You know, I haven't been able to get our last night together out of my head.
Sophia: Oh? =)
Sebastian: I can't wait to do that to you again. I can't wait to tie you up and fuck you until you can't even speak anymore.
Sophia: So hurry up and get back here!
Sebastian: Haha. Patience. Sometimes a little wait does a lot of good. I'm enjoying thinking of all the things I'm still yet to do to you. You have no idea how hard I'm going to make you come.
Yeah. How the hell is a girl meant to function with messages like that in her inbox?
They didn't come too often, but they were just frequent enough to leave my libido on constant simmer. To make matters worse, no matter how hot I got, I wasn't allowed to relieve myself. He'd made it very clear that was against the rules. Several nights when I was nearly at breaking point, I considered doing it anyway, but something stopped me. He'd know. Somehow, he'd know. And so I powered on and did my best to ignore it.
Because of the sheer volume of work coming in, I spent the entire weekend at the office. There were a few less people around then, and so some more meaty jobs trickled down my way, but by Monday they'd all dried up again. Finally I decided I'd had enough of sitting on the bench.
"Ernest, have you got a minute?" I said, knocking on my boss's door.
"Sophia, sure. Come in."
I shut the door behind me and took a seat in front of the desk. I never quite knew what to make of my boss. A slim, balding man of about fifty, he constantly wore a harried look, as though he were just an instant from being overwhelmed by it all. He was the law firm equivalent of middle management; reasonably competent, but totally unambitious. He'd been a partner at the firm for the last twenty years, but never seemed to care about moving any higher than that.
He'd always seemed to like me, which is why I felt comfortable going to him. His relatively lowly position meant he couldn't intervene directly to change Alan's orders, but he still held more sway than I did. If he pushed hard enough, he might be able to make something happen. Besides, I was desperate.
"I just wanted to talk to you about the Wrights case."
His eyes brightened. "It's fascinating isn't it? A real coup for us."
"I wouldn't know. I've basically done nothing but pick up the slack for the last week."
He looked a little uncomfortable. "Oh now, I'm sure that's not true."
"It is true. You know what I spent the morning doing? Cross referencing Nick and Will's notes for that fraud case."
He licked his lips. "Well, that kind of thing needs to be done too. You know how it is, you don't always get to pick and choose what you do. Work gets given to the people best suited to the task."
"Sorry, but that's bullshit, Ernest. I'm one of the best associates on this floor and you know it. So why aren't I being allowed to help?"
His mouth curled into a sympathetic smile. "I'm not co-ordinating this case, Sophia. Believe me, if I were you'd be at the top of the list."
I slumped deeper into my chair. That was pretty much the response I'd been expecting. "Okay, let me ask you a different question then. Do you have any idea why Alan dislikes me so much?"
"Alan doesn't dislike you. He's just very... particular about how he does things." It was an incredibly diplomatic way of saying that he played favourites.
"Well I wish he'd be particular in my direction occasionally. Seriously, I bust my ass for this company, Ernest, and lately I get nothing in return."
He gazed at me for several seconds. "Look, how about this. I'll make some calls and see if I can't call in a few favours. But in the meantime I need you to ride this one out. If you kick up too much of a fuss you might piss off the wrong people. You know how this place is."
I felt a glimmer of hope. "That would be great, Ernest. Thanks." It probably wouldn't do much good, but it was better than nothing. "Now if you'll excuse me, I better get back to it. I think there's a child in my office who needs his school absence note drafted."
He chuckled. "Good luck with that."
Well, I'd played my hand. All I could do now was wait.
"It's something," said Ruth, when I called her a few hours later.
"Yeah. I don't think it'll amount to much though." I let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe it's just the girl factor. Maybe I need to suck it up and find a nice boutique firm somewhere where a cock isn't considered mandatory equipment for success."
"Hey, there's always a job for you here. Helping unhappy couples tear each other apart financially is rewarding in its own way."
"I'll keep that in mind," I said with a laugh, although I knew that wasn't really me. I could never do what Ruth did. It was a little too daytime chat-show for me.
"So how are things with your mystery man?" she asked. I swear I could hear her grin travelling down the phone line.
"Okay. Actually to be honest, I had a bit of a freak out, but it turned out I was just being an idiot. We talked it through, and things are good now... I think."
"You think?"
"Well, he had to fly to Melbourne for work the day we made up. We've texted a little, but I haven't actually seen him since then."
"Ah bummer. Oh well, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that crap."
"It's not his heart I'm interested in."
She laughed. "Ah, well it can make that grow fonder too. Trust me."
I didn't sleep well that night, and the next morning I arrived at work in a foul mood. However, it didn't last long. Resting in the centre of my desk when I walked into my office was a neatly wrapped box. There was no postage stamp or delivery address. Instead, on the face, in elegant, flowing script, was a single word. Sophia. My heart leapt. I'd only seen that handwriting once before, in the Royal Bay, but everything about that night was etched permanently into my brain.