Oh? Yes, he's that too. I smile to myself, stretching my legs under the table on a sigh. Oh, that feels good.

'Don't hold out on us!' Tom whines, executing the biggest pout I've ever seen.

'I'm sleeping with him.' I shrug. I'm in love with him!

They both look at me like I've sprouted horns, then at each other on an eye roll. Both sets of arms get folded across their chests as they stand before me. Tom looks over his fashion spectacles, and I glance over my desk to see if they're tapping their feet as well.

'Louis, we know that,' Tom huffs impatiently. 'We just want to know if the rebound fucking has moved into more interesting territory.' He lowers his head further down, making me feel like I'm under a microscope. I am. I remove the fingers from my collar.

'I could ask Phil.' Victoria chirps.

'What?' I throw a filthy look in her direction when I realise what she means. 'Victoria, I'm not in high school. I don't need you picking his friends brain. Keep your mouth shut!' I sound really harsh, but I honestly cannot believe she has just suggested something so pathetic and immature.

She looks at me all hurt and backs off, returning to her desk and her broken nail. Tom looks at me, disapproval written all over his face. I shake my head at him. I don't care. She can be such a ditsy cow sometimes.

'It's sex, nothing more.' I inform him. 'Now, leave me alone!' I grab my mouse and direct it aimlessly around my screen.

'Hmmm,' he muses, leaving me at my desk in peace. 'Just sex, my arse.' I hear him mutter.

I spend the morning checking on my clients and schedules. I'm pleased. Everything is running smoothly, with no major dramas to attend to and no lazy contractors to sack. I pencil in a few site visits for next week, smiling as I write between the diagonal lines of permanent marker pen. I need to replace my diary before Patrick cops a load of my daily appointments with the Lord.

I gladly accept the cappuccino and muffin that lands on my desk, courtesy of Sally, and frown when I hear a commotion of car horns coming from outside the office. I look up, spotting a pink van double parked and Beth frantically waving to get my attention. I lift myself from my chair, groaning as my muscles scream in protest. I hiss on every step I take until I'm stood at the side of Margo Junior, smiling fondly at my fiery friend's excited face.

'Isn't she pretty?' Beth lovingly caresses the steering wheel of Margo Junior.

'Beautiful,' I agree, but then I remember something. 'What are you playing at letting Ian have free reign on my underwear drawer?'

'I couldn't stop him!' Her voice is high pitched and defensive. It bloody well should be. 'He's a cheeky swine.' She grins.

I've no doubt that he is. The thought instantly reminds me about the whole tying up charade. I'm tempted to ask Beth, but I quickly decide that I really don't want to know.

'How's Harry?' Her grin widens.

'Fine,' I narrow my eyes on her.

'You stayed there,' she says, her tone suggestive. 'Have fun?'

I scoff. 'Well, I had a wild ride on a Ducati 1098, had daggers thrown at me by Nick and ran nine miles this morning.' I reach down, rubbing my hands over my aching thighs.

'Fuck, is Nick still at it? Tell him to take a leap.' She frowns. 'You ran nine miles? Well, that stinks. And what the hell is a Ducatsiwhatevery?'

'A superbike,' I shrug. I wouldn't have known that myself a few days ago. 'He's deposited a hundred grand into the Cohen & Cooper bank account.'

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