Behind Office Doors

Chapter Six: Imogen

As it happened, Google Maps had my back. That little unknown street sent me on a wonderful tour of that unfamiliar part of London. I didn't even realise I'd been going in circles until a man stuck his head outside his shop and asked if I was okay. I'd walked past his door three times, apparently.

When I did manage to locate the restaurant, I was half an hour late. I expected Jason to have left. After all, he was busy. He had a company to run.

Yet my eyes landed on him the second I stepped through the door, his presence leaping out and capturing my attention before I'd even been shown to the table.

He sat in the corner, dressed in a pale blue shirt with chinos, and immediately rose from his chair as soon as he saw me.

For a brief moment, he wasn't my boss. He looked like Jason Walters. No tie. No jacket. No waistcoat. Just normal Jason Walters, and I could have cried with relief.

"I'm glad you came." His deep voice, all soft and smooth, triggered a flicker of heat between my thighs.

One large hand reached towards me, before quickly dropping back to his side, like he'd thought better of it. Mouth dry with nerves, I wet my lips and watched his eyes flick down to track the movement of my tongue.

I pulled out my chair and hooked my bag over the back of it. It gave me a tiny break from the weight of his intense stare, but then my gaze found its way back to him, like a metal snapping onto a magnet.

We sat down in sync with each other. Time to get this back on track before I got sucked under his spell again.

"I agree there are things we should discuss," I said. "And that's the only reason I'm here."

Jason blinked, his eyes widening with what looked suspiciously like hurt. But he'd already mugged me off once and I refused to fall for it again.

"Midge, please..."

"Don't call me that." My words rushed out with a ferocity that chilled even me, despite them coming from my own mouth.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, casting his gaze across the restaurant. Released from his intense eyes, the ones that held a summer of memories for me, I allowed myself the opportunity to scan his body again, noticing how his biceps strained against the fabric of his shirt. The top few buttons were undone and revealed a tiny strip of his bronzed chest. I wanted to touch it, to press my own against it, like I'd done so many times before.

"I understand why you're upset with me, Imogen."

"Do you?"

"Of course. You put your trust in me and I let you down."

I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from lashing out, counting to five in my head before speaking.

"Let me down? You think I'm upset because you let me down? Don't flatter yourself. I've been let down plenty of times before you, Jason. Or whatever the fuck your real name is. How do I know what else you've lied about?"

His lips parted, then flattened into a thin line. The penny had dropped. Of course I was upset that he'd let me down, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I had trusted him. I'd given him so many opportunities to keep our fling as a summer romance, and he'd insisted we continue it in London. So naturally I'd got my hopes up. Why wouldn't I when I'd given him an easy way out and he hadn't taken it?

Without a word, Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Leaving already? I hadn't expected the date to be smooth sailing, but I didn't think he'd walk out so early on.