Cruel Temptation | ongoing

chapter ten

C H A P T E R   T E N
•  •  •

Going into work the day after a big work bash is exactly how you'd expect: painful and awkward, not necessarily in that order.

People I'd known, for years, to be stern, ill-humoured and generally boring, had turned into magnetic, drunken messes. They'd gone back to their old selves, even if I'd had my first conversation with Elaine Gooden today.

She was looking around frantically as if someone was about to jump her.

I could hear her distinct heels slapping against the ground. Then they stopped. It didn't occur to be that she'd been wanting to talk to me, so when I felt a hand touch my arm, I almost screamed.

"Morning Elaine," I said, finally meeting her eye. Up close, the dramatic brown eye shadow she wore wasn't as pristine as I'd first thought. It had smeared into the corner of her eyes and was threatening to streak down her face, too.

"What happened last night?" She asked, sounding completely terrified. We had to nod and smile as someone came out of the lift, but as soon as they were out of ear shot, she was pulling on me again, looking agitated. "Did I do anything..?"

I stared at her. "Anything...?"

"Embarrassing," she said, in a whisper yell. "Anything that could ruin my career."

I thought to the almost-table routine we were shown the previous night, Elaine herself being the main and only part.

"No," I said. "You were fine."

She stepped back, chest deflating in relief.

Righting herself— tugging her pantsuit straight and tucking a stray strand of hair into her bun— that familiar 'I hate everyone' expression fitted itself flawlessly onto her face. I felt almost relieved to be greeted with it again.

"Okay then," she said, already looking like we'd been speaking too long for her liking. She took, what was meant to be, a final glance at me. But swung her head back to me again, eyebrows furrowed and panda eyes squinted. "Is something different about you?"

"Different?" I asked, looking down at myself and then catching sight of my distorted reflection in a glass office not far away. "Different how?"

"I don't know," she murmured, analysing me like I was being intentionally ignorant. "Just... different. Have you always worn your hair like that?"

I subconsciously felt for my loosely spiralled hair. "My hair. That must be it," I said, even though I'd worn my hair like this more times than I could count.

She didn't seem entirely convinced. Even so, she said, "Well, I'd better..." I nodded and she began walking away. "Oh and Amara?" I turned  to her. "Thank you."

"No wo—" I went to say, but she'd already gone on her way, quickly disappearing around a corner. The last of her I saw was her long legs and the sound of those six inch heels.

"Amara!" John said as soon as I'd stepped foot in the office.

"John," I greeted, making a beeline for my desk. He followed me over, watching as I set my things down. I looked to Jamie but he just shrugged. "Yes John?"