Page 94 of The Bet
“We can get dinner later!” He shouted after her.
“No we won’t.” She shouted over her shoulder before storming into his office. She stopped cold when she saw his screensaver. Her mouth fell open. It was the picture of a woman in a bikini lying over a car that looked very much like his Ferrari. Her hand froze momentarily as she seized the mouse.
This was his screensaver?
The woman was soaked, her hair hanging around her shoulders, perched on the edge of his hood, and sitting forward, her nipples erect and staring right at her.
Gross.
She slammed the keyboard in anger. “Can you unlock your screen for me!” she shouted.
Her nostrils flared as she waited, and when, five seconds later he didn’t come running in, she stormed away and rushed smack bang into him.
“Ouch!” A sharp pain tasered through her lower lip.
“Whoa,” he said. His thumb on the side of her lips, his eyes all worried-looking. She caught a whiff of his cologne first, before the undercurrents of his chest close to hers, erupted. “Sorry.”
She backed away, feeling her lip with her tongue.
“Your lip’s bleeding.”
She licked it again, the taste of blood on her tongue salty. He reached for a Kleenex and gave her one.
“You okay? Here, let me take a look.”
“I’m okay. It’s just a little nip.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were going to spring out like that.
She ignored his apology and held the Kleenex to her lip, dabbing at the blood, and she could feel, now when she licked her tongue, how quickly her lip was swelling up.
“I need the password.”
“Right.” He turned around and she could have sworn that he visibly flinched when he saw the screen. “I should get that picture changed.”
She’d meant to keep quiet, but a noise, a derisive snort escaped from her lips.
“Sorry about that.” His voice was soft. He moved away from the desk, but she waited until he had cleared a good few yards, before she sat down.
“You can go now,” she told him, when he still stood there, unmoving.
He disappeared, and she got on with her work but a few moments later, he was back, and this time he had an ice-cube wrapped up a dishcloth. “This might help take the swelling down.”
She reached for it, and a small ‘thanks’, may or may not have fallen from her lips.
