Page 9 of The Mistaken Bet
Oh, this could be fun. I could enjoy playing along. My hands patted Alan’s chest and I recoiled at the sweat that was left on my palm and the odour that hit my nostrils. The laugh that left me in response to a question I hadn’t even heard properly from him, felt foreign and unfamiliar. His smug turned-up lips made me want to hurl.
“Great. Shall I pick you up tomorrow?” Alan asked as bile rose in my throat and I attempted to avoid all eye contact with Logan, but waves of tension that radiated through the air were unmistakable.
How can I shut him down quickly?
I was grateful that Daniel managed to interrupt us at that moment.
“I think she’s good Alan,” he stated loudly, Alan cowering back to his desk when Daniel took a step in his direction.
“Thanks for the save. I could have dealt with it, though,” I snapped, standing, and placing my hands on my hips, hoping it would give me some sort of authoritative look before remembering he was my line manager.
Fuck.
I sheepishly wished the ground would swallow me and hide my stupid act of bravado at times.
“I wasn’t doing it just for you,” Daniel replied as he looked at the breathtakingly upset Adonis over his shoulder. “I did it for the both of you. I’m not making the same mistake again,” he stated, dismissing my actions like he hadn’t even noticed my little power attempted. Instead, he appreciated I was stuck in the same turmoil as his best friend.
“Mistake?” I questioned hoping for some snippet of information without having to prey any further.
“Yep, but it’s for Logan to tell you, not me,” he stated.
I tried hiding the disappointment from my face.
“Everything you need to log on is in the middle drawer for you. Spend some time with the software to get accustomed with it. If you get stuck, you know where my office is.”
“Thanks,” I whispered as I took a huge breath and bent down to grab the relevant documents from the drawer. I couldn’t help where my eyes were drawn to. They caught each other’s igniting the fire within.
I was paid to work, and that’s what I would do.
I loaded the laptop up and my attention was first drawn to three files on the document, alongside the signing in of my new email account.I glanced over the files and analysed the software in front of me. It seemed the use of analytical approaches was what I was familiar with and the recording files in a way which wasn’t an alien format—like some firms I had been drafted to work at used—would make this a flawless transition. My job would be a lot easier thanks to the use of main structured systems rather than compromised trialled options. Why would I have thought any different with the brief I had been given?
I knew everything I had panicked about could be washed away.
With the files organised in relevance, I signed into my email my heart thudding when I saw two messages in my inbox, apart from the obvious junk ones. The first was expected, but the second most definitely was not.
The first was a standardised welcome email from the company—well, from Daniel acting on their behalf—with all the details of relevant contacts and support required. He had appointed a mentor to me as per company policy and just in case, even though he felt I wouldn’t need one due to my high calibre expertise.
It was the second email that had my heart racing and my thighs squeezing together in an attempt to satisfy the need growing within me. I scooted my chair closer to the desk, bringing the screen as close to my eye level as possible and to hide my features from anyone’s gaze should they have looked. I knew I was probably flushed with dazzling eyes upon noticing a Mr Logan Marshall had emailed me—his surname was Marshall. I had often wondered what it was. My hand hovered over the mouse, the lump in my throat growing whilst I realised that whatever was behind this message was a monumental step in the direction, we would take next. Except my career stood at the forefront of my mind.
Subject – Kara, please…
Please could you take the time out of your schedule this evening to discuss the elephant in the room? Shall we say 6 pm…
I glanced around the room before I allowed my eyes to confront and challenge his, except the sincerity that shone back wasn’t what I expected. I quickly attempted to pull myself away, but I was trapped in his stare. I had to find the words. Emails were easier to refuse than speaking to his handsome face.
Subject – Working hours
I believe correspondence via this system should be restricted to work-related issues, Mr Marshall, and that these matters should only be discussed during contracted hours. Therefore, I’m struggling to understand the need for us to meet outside of these said hours.
Miss. Penner
My head lifted slightly to see Logan attempting to hide a chuckle that was threatening to leave his mouth, his shoulders moving. I knew it would only be moments before it managed to find a way out. I counted down from ten, hoping I hadn’t called it wrong as I was dying to hear that rumbling noise again. At least I hadn’t defeated him. If anything, I had surged him on: I saw him typing away, and I was certain it wasn’t a mathematical evaluation due to the ferocity in his fingers as he laid them on the keyboard.
I was right.
A few moments later, a ping alerted me to a new, unread message from my Logan.
Subject: Probability and being held accountable