Page 14 of Duplicity

If I allow myself to think about it like that, even for a second, I will probably faint.

Or pee myself.

I mean, I realised he was extremely attractive that night at the exhibition, but I was more focused on meeting Athena’s new boss-with-benefits, if I’m honest. And Brendan seemed shy that night, so I didn’t really give him much of a second thought.

But now that I’m in his crazy corner office that’s conservatively three times bigger than my entire flat, and I’m alone with him, and he’s in CEO mode, and he’s found his voice—and his swagger—it’s absolutely impossible not to be affected by him.

First of all, he’s big. Bigger than I realised, and bigger than his brother.I used to play rugby and now lift serious weightsbig. The breadth of his shoulders and the heft of those arms under his beautiful navy suit are unmistakable. I’m tall, and I’m in Athena’s four-inch pale-pink suede Gianvito Rossi’s, but he still towers over me. He must be six-three or six-four. I find myself wondering if he’s built proportionally all over and have to talk myself down with a blush.

Stop it.

Second, he totally has a playboy tan. I bet he works his way all around the women of the Med over the summer, and I bet he’s disgustingly successful at it—so successful, in fact, that I wonder why the hell he needs a Seraph EA. If it wasn’t for those sky-blue eyes, the tan and almost black beard would be giving serious Mob vibes.

Third, I may have googled him far too extensively in the days since Athena suggested this gig, and I can’t conclude that I did myself any favours. I told myself it was purely for interview research purposes, but there’s context and there’scontext.

The penchant-for-blondes thing? Helpful.

The penchant-for-blonde actual, literalsupermodelsthing? Unhelpful.

Acquainting myself with his career history and his rise through the ranks at Sullivan Construction? Helpful.

Acquainting myself with his net worth? Unhelpful.

As was happening upon aTatlerarticle citing him as the second most eligible bachelor in London last year (the current Duke of Oxford pipped him to the post), and reading a tell-all in theDaily Mailby a—platinum blonde, obviously—reality TV star he’d dated and allegedly dumped.

The article reeked of sour grapes while also being a blatant plug for her new line of planet-friendly yoga mats, but she didn’t hold back on slagging off his bedroom behaviour (“demandingbordering on aggressive”) or his maturity levels (“a spoilt five-year-old on a good day”).

A bratty kid by day and a wannabe porn star by night?

Fucking excellent.

From what I can tell, having done far too much of this “research”, I have two advantages over all the other women who cross his path and throw themselves at him.

One. I will do anythingto make him happy and keep him satisfied.Anything.

Two. My only agenda is saving my daughter’s life. Unlike the rest of them, I have no interest in trying to become Mrs Brendan Sullivan, so he can rest easy that I’ll fuck him to his heart’s content without angling for a proposal.

Which brings me to the other elephant in the room—our questionnaires. I will fully admit to having completed mine while being half a bottle of wine down, a move that was as necessary as it was ill-judged. I answeredyesto far too many things, even if Athena, who guided me through it over a video call, seconded Camille’s words: that I absolutely did not have to roll over and say yes to everything.

The problem is that neither Athena nor Camille have a daughter who needs hundreds of thousands of pounds’ worth of medical careyesterday.So they can discern all they want, but I know that the more boxes I tickyesto, the more likely Brendan will offer me this job.

Is it irresponsible to opt in to potentially indulge in sex acts I may not be comfortable with?

Are you crazy?! Of course it is!!!!!!

But when you have purposely put the glossy Duke Children’s Hospital brochure directly in your line of sight as you fill out a sexy questionnaire, you will damn well complete said questionnaire in the way that has the best chance of getting you through the doors of that hospital.

Also, I was at home in my flat at the time. I was in my little sanctuary. It was a not dissimilar experience to watching365 Daysand idly wishing someone hot would bundle you up and kidnap you. It felt safe, like a distant fantasy that your nervous system is so confident is impossible that it’s happy to stand down and let you fantasise about.

But now? Now my pulse is skittering all over the place and my breakfast is reconsidering its home in my stomach right as my nervous system reconsiders theis impossiblepart of this situation. I’m watching the curves of Brendan’s moving lips as he gives Elaine his coffee order, and I’m noticing the muscles flexing right beneath that expensive wool jacket, and every part of me is sensing his bulk, his strength, his proximity, and all those filthy things I glibly signed up for suddenly feel shockingly real. Terrifyingly imminent.

I won’t even get started on all the thingshementioned, because I absolutely will not be able to focus on selling my tenuous assistant skillset in a pleasant and convincing manner if I think about the fact that he wroteANALin capital letters on his questionnaire.

Capital letters.

I have strong and easily digested—haha—views on anal. In a nutshell, that hole back there is an exit hole, not an entry hole. I value my digestive health, thank you very much. In fact, it’s the one sodding area of my life where everything is shipshape. It all runs like clockwork. Never will a man get back there, anddefinitelynot a man of this guy’s size. No, sir.

Ten bottles of wine wouldn’t have been enough to make me tick that box. If Mr Brendan Sullivan wants to stick it up the wrong ‘un, he’ll have to do so out of office hours with someone who categorically isn’t me.

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