Page 16
Story: Never Tell Lies
But the tension was wired like a bow string.
"Was there something else?" I broke first and he made a smug, satisfied sound that grated on me.
"I have a proposition for you."A proposition.That didn't sound good. "I want to give you a project." It took me a moment to process what he'd said. I'd expected some kind of sexual proposition, not this.
"A project?" I asked.
"Yes. I want to give you a plot of land at Harrington House and see what you do with it."
My mouth fell open. I felt as if a proposition to design for an international hotel chain should be followed up with a firework display and a marching band but he had spoken as if he was discussing the weather.
"Mr Tell, designing isn't my job. Mark will be back in a few days and I'm sure he would be very happy to?—"
"I don't give a damn about Mark Tafferty," he cut me off, "nor do I care what your job description is or isn't. You might be an office body but your knowledge extends far beyond that. I believe you designed the Boutique Garden at your work?"
How the hell did he know that?
"I researched you," he said, answering my unspoken question.
Of course he'd researched me. The Boutique Garden I'd designed for Rosie's cafe had been all over the business's social media when I'd finished it. It was a small, square space with a very limited budget. I'd lined the area with pergolas to give the illusion of privacy in the middle of the busy garden centre. A bench provided a quiet spot to sit, and a lily-covered fountain drowned out the noise of the shoppers. It had been Mark's first project for me—first and only. He hadn't given me another one since and I couldn't deny how much that hurt.
"Yes, I designed it but I don't have any formal training."
"Which is why you'll have Riley's guidance."Riley's guidance.I'd be guided by Riley Fitzpatrick.
No, I couldn't accept it.
"Mr Tell," I repeated forcefully. "It really wouldn't be appropriate. This is Mark’s contract. Anything regarding it should be discussed with him and besides, I really can't take time off from my work to?—"
"You have weekends and you'll be recompensed for your time, of course,” he said, easily dismissing my protests. "You said you wanted to design but rarely got the opportunity, I’m giving you the opportunity now. Come back tonight. I'll have Riley show you the plot and we can discuss it over dinner." He had an answer for everything. So far, every interaction I'd had with this man had been a battle of wits, a game in which he was obviously far more schooled than I was. But that didn't mean I couldn't be smart too.
"I'll consider it… " I said, letting my unspoken ‘if’hang in the air, just waiting for him to catch on. It took less than a second.
"If?" He sounded excited by the challenge. A challenge was a rare beast after all.
"If you apologise for coming on to me yesterday. It was very unprofessional."
"Yes, it was," he admitted. I almost fell off my chair in shock. "You, on the other hand, were the epitome of professionalism. Crashed into anyone else's car recently?"Shit. I scowled at the empty office. "I'm not going to apologise, Miss O'Connell, because I don't regret it, nor do I feel guilty."
"I don't suppose regret or guilt are things you feel very often."
"I don't suppose you know me well enough to be making those kinds of assumptions," he said evenly. I winced. “But my lack of remorse isn’t why you won’t get an apology out of me.”I swear I could hear him smiling down the phone. He was enjoying this.
"Then, why? Because it wasn't court ordered?"
“Because you wanted it." His words sent a pulse straight to my core. I inhaled sharply, my mind spinning. "Nothing to say now, Miss O'Connell?"
"I…I can't believe you said that! You are the most insufferable?—"
"Are you pressing your thighs together?"
I gasped as his words sent another jolt through me. I looked down at my own thighs, how I'd pressed them together to alleviate the ache between my legs. "Mr Tell?—"
"Come to me tonight," he cut me off, his harsh instruction stealing my breath away. A moment ago we had been playful, a moment before that we were all business, and now he had brought me to this place, and he'd done it as easily as he had on the rooftop yesterday, moving me from one scene to another.
"Are you scared?"
"No."Yes.
"Was there something else?" I broke first and he made a smug, satisfied sound that grated on me.
"I have a proposition for you."A proposition.That didn't sound good. "I want to give you a project." It took me a moment to process what he'd said. I'd expected some kind of sexual proposition, not this.
"A project?" I asked.
"Yes. I want to give you a plot of land at Harrington House and see what you do with it."
My mouth fell open. I felt as if a proposition to design for an international hotel chain should be followed up with a firework display and a marching band but he had spoken as if he was discussing the weather.
"Mr Tell, designing isn't my job. Mark will be back in a few days and I'm sure he would be very happy to?—"
"I don't give a damn about Mark Tafferty," he cut me off, "nor do I care what your job description is or isn't. You might be an office body but your knowledge extends far beyond that. I believe you designed the Boutique Garden at your work?"
How the hell did he know that?
"I researched you," he said, answering my unspoken question.
Of course he'd researched me. The Boutique Garden I'd designed for Rosie's cafe had been all over the business's social media when I'd finished it. It was a small, square space with a very limited budget. I'd lined the area with pergolas to give the illusion of privacy in the middle of the busy garden centre. A bench provided a quiet spot to sit, and a lily-covered fountain drowned out the noise of the shoppers. It had been Mark's first project for me—first and only. He hadn't given me another one since and I couldn't deny how much that hurt.
"Yes, I designed it but I don't have any formal training."
"Which is why you'll have Riley's guidance."Riley's guidance.I'd be guided by Riley Fitzpatrick.
No, I couldn't accept it.
"Mr Tell," I repeated forcefully. "It really wouldn't be appropriate. This is Mark’s contract. Anything regarding it should be discussed with him and besides, I really can't take time off from my work to?—"
"You have weekends and you'll be recompensed for your time, of course,” he said, easily dismissing my protests. "You said you wanted to design but rarely got the opportunity, I’m giving you the opportunity now. Come back tonight. I'll have Riley show you the plot and we can discuss it over dinner." He had an answer for everything. So far, every interaction I'd had with this man had been a battle of wits, a game in which he was obviously far more schooled than I was. But that didn't mean I couldn't be smart too.
"I'll consider it… " I said, letting my unspoken ‘if’hang in the air, just waiting for him to catch on. It took less than a second.
"If?" He sounded excited by the challenge. A challenge was a rare beast after all.
"If you apologise for coming on to me yesterday. It was very unprofessional."
"Yes, it was," he admitted. I almost fell off my chair in shock. "You, on the other hand, were the epitome of professionalism. Crashed into anyone else's car recently?"Shit. I scowled at the empty office. "I'm not going to apologise, Miss O'Connell, because I don't regret it, nor do I feel guilty."
"I don't suppose regret or guilt are things you feel very often."
"I don't suppose you know me well enough to be making those kinds of assumptions," he said evenly. I winced. “But my lack of remorse isn’t why you won’t get an apology out of me.”I swear I could hear him smiling down the phone. He was enjoying this.
"Then, why? Because it wasn't court ordered?"
“Because you wanted it." His words sent a pulse straight to my core. I inhaled sharply, my mind spinning. "Nothing to say now, Miss O'Connell?"
"I…I can't believe you said that! You are the most insufferable?—"
"Are you pressing your thighs together?"
I gasped as his words sent another jolt through me. I looked down at my own thighs, how I'd pressed them together to alleviate the ache between my legs. "Mr Tell?—"
"Come to me tonight," he cut me off, his harsh instruction stealing my breath away. A moment ago we had been playful, a moment before that we were all business, and now he had brought me to this place, and he'd done it as easily as he had on the rooftop yesterday, moving me from one scene to another.
"Are you scared?"
"No."Yes.
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