Page 67 of Paper Roses

“And the miracle is that they came from Raff’s lips,” Joe says.

Raff’s eyes narrow. “Don’t sound too astonished.”

“How could I not? This is the same man who tried to stick a record cupboard together with super glue.”

Raff gasps. “Did Stan tell you that?”

Joe starts to laugh, and I look back at the deli’s entrance, thinking about the confused state I’d left Jed in. He’s trying. We were both at fault for last night, and being cross with him won’t do either of us any good.

“I think I need to speak to Jed,” I say. “Can you get the coffee? Put it on the account.”

Joe pats my shoulder. “Of course. See you in a bit.”

“Just so you know, I’m totally going to put cake on there too,” Raff calls after me. “Giving advice makes me hungry.”

I speed walk across the square and let myself into the agency. It’s quiet and looks like no one’s here yet. Jed’s office door is open, and I can hear his voice, so I make my way into the room. He’s on the phone and when he sees me, relief fills his eyes. I conceal my pleasure by closing the door and taking off my coat.

“No,” he says into the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.” He pauses. “I don’t care how urgent. Artie’s here and I need to speak to him. I’ll ring you after the meeting.” He puts the phone down. “My brother,” he explains. “He’s arranging a surprise birthday party for Mei, and he wants us both to be there. I don’t know how he thinks he can keep a secret from her.”

He’s talking much more quickly than usual. Is he nervous? If so, it’s an interesting development.

“I’m sorry.” He stands and rounds the desk, coming towards me with worried eyes. “I think I hurt you, and I wouldneverwant to do that.”

The last bit of anger drains away. How can I hold on to it when this is a good man who’s doing his best to give me my dream? It’s not his fault that I dream of being with him much more than I dream about my house.

“I know,” I say quietly.

He sits on his desk. “Talkto me.”

I draw in a deep breath. Being honest feels like it requires more air. “You said you wouldn’t want to start anything with me…” I let the breath go. “And you made it sound as though you wouldn’t choose me even if I were the last person on the earth.”

Dismay erupts on his face. “No,” he says loudly. “No, I didn’t mean it that way at all.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

His green eyes are so light they almost look silver. “I meant that you’re a very important person to me. Your happiness means something, and I don’t want to start anything that might eventually disappoint you. Or hurt you.”

“I’m not fragile, Jed. Other people have disappointed me before. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Then that makes me very sad.”

I summon my courage, take another deep breath, and step closer to him. “The thing is I do want you,” I say. “I want yousom-much, Jed,” I stammer. This is the most nerve-racking thing I’ve ever done. “You and me being together is all I can think about.” I take another fortifying breath. “What about you?”

He closes his eyes, his hands clenching the desk, and with a shocking thrill, I realise he’s fighting the urge to reach for me. Confidence stirring, I step between his spread legs, resting my hands on his thighs and feeling the muscles tighten.

“Artie,” he breathes warningly.

“No. You wanted to know my thoughts, so here they are. I want you. I know you’re still in love with Mick, and that you had a real marriage with him. And ours is fake and won’t go anywhere.” A funny expression crosses his face, but I keep going. If I stop, I’ll lose my courage. “But that’s fine. And since we’ll have to be together—for appearance’s sake—for a while…” I slide my hands up his thighs. He rests his hands on mine but doesn’t stop me when I ease my palm up to his zipper. He exhales—a sound much like a groan—and I note red flags of colour on his cheekbones. “…then why can’t we be together and give each other a bit of happiness?”

He opens his eyes. The green has almost been eclipsed by his pupils. “And then what?” His hoarse voice sends a shiver down my spine.

“Then it’s done, and we go back to being us. Jed the boss and Artie his assistant.”

I’m lying through my teeth, but I’ve never thought of us as simply being in those roles, so what’s one more lie in the web we’re weaving? This arrangement will never hurt him. I wouldn’t suggest it if it would.

“Artie,” he says slowly, the word full of reluctant temptation. “I’m not sure it’s advisable.”

“Well, what if I want it?”

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