Chapter One
Author: Bob n Kazzi

My heels click as I almost jog into the office

My heels click as I almost jog into the office. The pencil skirt I bought last week seems to just hug my arse a little too tightly, and it makes me walk stupidly. I hope Hot Guy doesn’t see me. Though even if he did see me, Stupid Boyfriend wouldn’t exactly make any meeting go well. Stupid Boyfriend walking behind me, shouting at me.

“You going to meet me or what then?” he yells. God he pisses me off. If he weren’t attractive, and didn’t know how to make the best lasagne in the world, I would maim him.

“I can’t tonight; I’ll see you at yours later alright?” I shout at him.

Jade, the receptionist, blinks as I rush past. Stupid Boyfriend, sometimes known as Stephen depending on my mood, retreats, and I sigh with relief. My walk slows, and when Jade nods at me, I return to her desk.

“God he’s an arse,” I say.

“An asshole,” she agreed. “And you’re with him why?”

“Because he has some good qualities,” I reply. “Did Daphne ask for me while I was on lunch?”

“Nothing, she’s still in her meeting.”

“Her meeting started at nine, she’s still in it at one?” I ask incredulously. I don’t know why I’m surprised; my boss tends to do this. I work in advertisement agency, and Daphne is one of the best. I am her assistant, and sometimes I feel like her mother, despite her having about twenty years on me. But that, I guess is part and parcel of the life of an assistant (secretary by another name, but hardly seems as sweet).

“Right, well, I’m going to check some emails and give her a buzz, see if they want any coffees or anything,” I say, walking to my office, just off of Daphne’s. My desk is positioned in such a way no one can see my screen as I work, so I sit at my chair, take off my shoes, run my feet on the tiled floor, and sigh with relief as I click on my email to open a new message.

To: Layla Cheairs

From: Cathryn Oscar

Subject: Wanker!

Layla, La la la la Layla – I know wrong song…

I know you tell me this about a million times a year, but seriously, Stupid Boyfriend is a really stupid boyfriend. We meet for lunch okay, because he needs to talk to me about something. Half of me is hoping and praying he wants to break up with me, so I don’t have to for like the twelfth time in this piddling relationship, but no, he wants to know why I didn’t do his dirty “laundry”.

Firstly, I am not his mother, which was my response, secondly, he knows how to clean his own damn washing, which was then my second response, and thirdly, what am I, his maid? I’m English not stupid. He asked me to wear a little English maid outfit while I did it. I said he was an idiot.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I in this relationship? Why can’t I seem to break it off? Why, when I work up the courage to break it off, does he then do something nice for me, and I end up saying he can stay in the flat for another two, three, five weeks at a time. Then I end up cleaning up after him, just to maintain a standard of hygiene that the current society in which I live demands of me. Seriously, if it were up to him, I would no doubt have rats in my bed, and ESPN or whatever on the television all the time. And I know that has nothing to do with hygiene but still.

AND he had a go at me for asking him how baseball went! I said is it like rounders, a game I played at home in school in England, and he told me to shut up. He was in my house! MY HOUSE! Stupid arse.

And then he takes his shirt off, and I end up staring at him for an hour because he has a tattoo on his left bicep, that swirly thing I told you about, and I can’t help thinking, I’ll bear it a little longer, because he’s so pretty.

Sort my head out! Help!

But yeah. Other than that, my life has been fairly standard. Oh, and I spotted HOT GUY! He’s so pretty, even prettier than Stupid Boyfriend. Mainly because I haven’t had an argument about underwear with Hot Guy. Hot Guy was spotted in the lift as I went to meet Stupid Boyfriend, at about twelve. I think he was running for some lunch as well – his bum looks so nice in suit trousers when he runs. Which floor of the building is he on? Does he even work for the same company or is he a model one of the agents booked for some advertisement? Either way, I hope I see him again. One more look into those green eyes and Stupid Boyfriend is history.

God, I know I keep on about Stupid Boyfriend, but seriously. I do wonder why I am even with him. I saw him flirting with the waitress while I was in the bathroom, and I kid you not he slipped her his number. I’ve never seen anything like that before, so I didn’t say anything, but I’m sure as hell something happened. And if I see him flirting with someone else, he’s dead. Dead and buried.

Daphne’s in one of her major long meetings again. I wonder if she’s working on something big, she asked me to stay behind this evening to give her a hand with something, so I guess something is happening. Or I’m getting fired. Which considering how long I spend emailing you instead of doing my job, it’s no surprise (that’s a lie, I only spend a few hours emailing you and the rest I do actually do work in).

So how are things on your floor? I haven’t seen you all day, and I’d say shall we meet for dinner this evening but unfortunately I have to stick around for Daphne, so I can’t. But I feel lunch tomorrow? Sound good? Let’s make it a long lunch so I can have a good moan about Stupid Boyfriend and you can tell me to bin him.

Cathryn

PS – HOT GUY ALERT! I just saw him going up in the lift – he might be going up past you, run to the lift doors now and make some excuse! I might if you don’t!