occasion.
“Hi, mum,” I spoke softly to her as she greeted me.
“Oh, Gemma, it’s lovely to hear from you,” she paused. “I was wondering when you would ring. Are you visiting soon? Your dad has been very busy I know, extra shifts, but we really would like to see you.”
I sighed. Her wish to see me had its origins back when I had not visited them for two months.
Yes, I did disappear out of circulation for a while, but there was no way I could had ever told her why. What followed was a meandering chat on no particular topic as I guided her away from the idea of a visit. I was sure my face would reveal too much and I needed more time to apply my mask better - mothers were far too perceptive.
***
Friday had arrived and my desk phone rang - an unknown internal number.
“Gemma Marshall,” I said while typing with one hand, handset wedged under my chin.
“Miss Marshall. I hope you have had a productive week?”
Jason Lucas is speaking to me!
I stopped typing with fingers poised over my keyboard. All my doubts were obliterated in a flash. The go-between of the Personal Assistant was absent, which was a good omen.
“Uh yes, Mr Lucas, uh very good,” I stumbled over my words, flummoxed. My skin was flushed and warmed by the sound of his voice. I glance nervously around wondering if anyone can hear my conversation. I imagined a big neon sign above my head flashing his name up as if I had won at bingo.
“I should hope so. My employees should always work hard,” he growled at me.
“Can I help you, sir?” Where to put myself, was the relationship on or off?
“It's Friday night and you’re coming to visit.” A statement not an invitation.
“Sure,” I accepted the request without a moment’s thought and my insides were churning.
“Bring whatever overnight things you need.” Then he put the phone down. I was nearly ready to come there and then such was my pathetic state!
The practicalities of getting to his house suddenly dawned on me. He did not want anyone to know I was with him. I wondered if I should ring him back. An email pinged in my inbox and as if to answer my question, he had written instructions for me:
: 7pm your apartment, be ready.
I slumped in my seat with relief, problem solved.
***
The Jaguar was there waiting for me as I clambered in the back in my jeans and t-shirt, lightweight jacket over my shoulders. His driver, Martinson, put my messenger bag in the boot for me. Jason was on his way home from work and looked the part in his tailored dark business suit.
“Hello, Gemma.”
“Hello, Jason.”
Greetings were somewhat mute.
“What’s wrong?” probed Jason.
“Just, I thought you weren’t interested in me anymore, until I got your call,” I blurted out, not hiding my disappointment.
He looked cross, very cross indeed.
“Gemma, let’s get this clear, I’m the owner and director of a big company, lots of things on the go. Long meetings, long days. I told you I worked hard. Don’t expect me to be all lovey dovey and romantic with you. There isn’t going to be flowers on your desk, poems in your emails or whatever. Get use to it,” he spoke harshly.
I looked down at my hands and my mind filled with silly contrite thoughts. For the entire week, perhaps I had been reading too much into his lack of interest in me. The most obvious explanation had been missing from my list; a busy chief executive would not have the inclination to woo his lowly intern. I should had known better, I was not really the romantic demanding type.
“Sorry.” It was all I could think to say.
“Have you eaten?” his voice had softened.
“Uh no, should I have?”
He laughed at my question. “Well if you were hungry – yes!”
I blushed back at him.
“I’m sure my housekeeper will have left enough of a dinner for two.”
Housekeeper – well, I should had guessed he had staff, I wonder if she was young or old.
We were in his kitchen and Jason inspected the fridge
“Hi, mum,” I spoke softly to her as she greeted me.
“Oh, Gemma, it’s lovely to hear from you,” she paused. “I was wondering when you would ring. Are you visiting soon? Your dad has been very busy I know, extra shifts, but we really would like to see you.”
I sighed. Her wish to see me had its origins back when I had not visited them for two months.
Yes, I did disappear out of circulation for a while, but there was no way I could had ever told her why. What followed was a meandering chat on no particular topic as I guided her away from the idea of a visit. I was sure my face would reveal too much and I needed more time to apply my mask better - mothers were far too perceptive.
***
Friday had arrived and my desk phone rang - an unknown internal number.
“Gemma Marshall,” I said while typing with one hand, handset wedged under my chin.
“Miss Marshall. I hope you have had a productive week?”
Jason Lucas is speaking to me!
I stopped typing with fingers poised over my keyboard. All my doubts were obliterated in a flash. The go-between of the Personal Assistant was absent, which was a good omen.
“Uh yes, Mr Lucas, uh very good,” I stumbled over my words, flummoxed. My skin was flushed and warmed by the sound of his voice. I glance nervously around wondering if anyone can hear my conversation. I imagined a big neon sign above my head flashing his name up as if I had won at bingo.
“I should hope so. My employees should always work hard,” he growled at me.
“Can I help you, sir?” Where to put myself, was the relationship on or off?
“It's Friday night and you’re coming to visit.” A statement not an invitation.
“Sure,” I accepted the request without a moment’s thought and my insides were churning.
“Bring whatever overnight things you need.” Then he put the phone down. I was nearly ready to come there and then such was my pathetic state!
The practicalities of getting to his house suddenly dawned on me. He did not want anyone to know I was with him. I wondered if I should ring him back. An email pinged in my inbox and as if to answer my question, he had written instructions for me:
: 7pm your apartment, be ready.
I slumped in my seat with relief, problem solved.
***
The Jaguar was there waiting for me as I clambered in the back in my jeans and t-shirt, lightweight jacket over my shoulders. His driver, Martinson, put my messenger bag in the boot for me. Jason was on his way home from work and looked the part in his tailored dark business suit.
“Hello, Gemma.”
“Hello, Jason.”
Greetings were somewhat mute.
“What’s wrong?” probed Jason.
“Just, I thought you weren’t interested in me anymore, until I got your call,” I blurted out, not hiding my disappointment.
He looked cross, very cross indeed.
“Gemma, let’s get this clear, I’m the owner and director of a big company, lots of things on the go. Long meetings, long days. I told you I worked hard. Don’t expect me to be all lovey dovey and romantic with you. There isn’t going to be flowers on your desk, poems in your emails or whatever. Get use to it,” he spoke harshly.
I looked down at my hands and my mind filled with silly contrite thoughts. For the entire week, perhaps I had been reading too much into his lack of interest in me. The most obvious explanation had been missing from my list; a busy chief executive would not have the inclination to woo his lowly intern. I should had known better, I was not really the romantic demanding type.
“Sorry.” It was all I could think to say.
“Have you eaten?” his voice had softened.
“Uh no, should I have?”
He laughed at my question. “Well if you were hungry – yes!”
I blushed back at him.
“I’m sure my housekeeper will have left enough of a dinner for two.”
Housekeeper – well, I should had guessed he had staff, I wonder if she was young or old.
We were in his kitchen and Jason inspected the fridge
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