I’m not sure what to make of this. He left me, not half an hour ago, with shaky legs and a mind racing in confusion. The shakes have returned, except my whole body is trembling now, and my mind’s a disorder of chaos and uncertainty. What’s he trying to prove here?
‘Miss O’Shea.’ he says softly.
‘Mr Ward.’ I greet hesitantly. I look at him questioningly, but he’s giving nothing away. I glance across the office, spotting three pairs of eyes flicking towards me at regular intervals.
‘Aren’t you going to ask if I would like a seat?’
I snap my eyes back to Jesse. ‘Please,’ I indicate one of the black tub chairs on the other side of my desk. He pulls one out, lowering himself slowly into the chair. ‘What are you doing?’ I hiss, leaning across my desk.
He smiles that self-assured, melt-worthy smile. ‘I’m here to settle an invoice, Miss O’Shea.’
‘Oh,’ I lean back in my chair. ‘Sally?’ I call. ‘Can you deal with Mr Ward, please? He would like to settle his outstanding account.’ I watch as Jesse shifts in his chair slightly, throwing me a critical look. I’m not being defiant. It’s not my job to take payment; I wouldn’t know where to start.
‘Of course,’ Sally calls. I see realisation hit her. Yes! It’s the same man that screamed at you down the phone, bulldozed the office and sent you flowers. Apparently, I drive him crazy! I throw her a don’t-ask-just-do look, prompting her to scuttle off towards the filing cabinet.
‘Sally will look after you, Mr Ward.’ I smile politely.
Jesse’s eyebrows shoot up, his frown line jumping into position. ‘Only you.’ he says softly, for my ears only. He makes no attempt to remove himself from my desk. He just sits there – all casual and relaxed, regarding me closely as Sally farts around at the filing cabinet.
Hurry up!
I nearly snap my pencil when I hear the familiar thump of Patrick’s heavy feet from behind me. This day just keeps getting better and better.
‘Ava?’
Glancing nervously up, I see Patrick stood at the side at my desk, looking at me expectantly. I wave my pencil in the general direction of Jesse. ‘Patrick, this is Mr Ward. He owns The Manor. Mr Ward, meet Patrick Peterson, my boss.’ I throw Jesse a pleading look.
‘Ah, Mr Ward, I know your face.’ Patrick puts his hand out.
‘We met briefly at Lusso.’ Jesse says as he stands and clasps Patrick’s hand.
Did they?
I see the pound signs ping into Patrick’s delighted, pale blue eyes. ‘Yes, you brought the penthouse.’ he chirps joyfully. Jesse nods his confirmation. I notice Patrick isn’t so worried about his outstanding bill now. Sally approaches with a copy of Jesse’s invoice and jumps a mile when Patrick snatches it from her dainty, pasty hand. ‘Have you offered Mr Ward a drink?’ he asks a stunned Sally.
‘I’m fine, thank you. I’ve just come to settle my account.’ Jesse’s husky tones reverberate through me as I sit, stuck like velcro to my chair, watching the polite exchange going on before me.
How can he be so calm and collective? I’m sat here, tense from top to toe, twiddling my pencil nervously in my hand and keeping my mouth firmly shut. It must be obvious that I’m uncomfortable, but Patrick seems oblivious.
Patrick waves Sally away. ‘You shouldn’t have rushed in just for this.’ He flaps the outstanding invoice in the air.
I scoff, following it up with a cough to disguise my reaction to Patrick’s casualness regarding the invoice he huffed about, only a few hours ago. He’s changed his tune.
‘I’ve been away. My staff overlooked it.’ Jesse explains. I release a thankful rush of air.
‘I knew there would be a perfectly reasonable explanation. Was it business or pleasure?’ Patrick sounds genuinely interested. I know different. He’s mentally calculating how much money he might be able to make out of Jesse. He’s a dear man, but he’s mad about turnover.
Jesse turns his eyes on me. ‘Oh, definitely pleasure.’ he says categorically.
I shrink further into my swivel chair, feeling my face turning a thousand shades of red. I can’t even look him in the eye. What is he trying to do to me?
‘I’d like to make some appointments with Miss O’Shea while I’m here. We need to get a quick turn around on this.’ he adds surely.
Ha! I very nearly remind him that he, supposedly, doesn’t make appointments to f**k me. But if I did that, I suspect I would firstly get the sack, and secondly, receive a sense f**k to rival all others. So, I keep my mouth firmly shut. Appointments? This man is impossible.
‘Absolutely,’ Patrick rumbles. ‘Are you looking for a design, or a design consultation and/or project manage?’
I roll my eyes. I know the answer to this question. After my perfectly exasperated eye roll is executed, I lift my eyes to Jesse and find him watching me, clearly struggling to maintain his serious face.
‘The whole package.’ he answers. What the hell does that mean?
‘Super!’ Patrick claps his hands together. ‘I’ll leave you with Ava. She’ll take good care of you.’ Patrick offers his hand and Jesse takes it, keeping his eyes right on me.
I’ve never been in a more difficult situation in my life. I’m sweating, fidgeting and sat so far back in my chair, I’m probably blending in with the leather.
‘I know she will,’ He smiles, turning his green pools back to Patrick. ‘If you give me your company bank details, I’ll arrange an immediate bank transfer. I’ll also make an advanced payment on the next stage. It will save any future delays.’