Page 50 of Power Moves
Boss responds instantly.Can you grab lunch later? Will need full rundown of everything they’re saying.
I sigh. Bossknowsthe union thing doesn’t end until 4 p.m. But then again, I knew he’d want me listening the whole time. That’s why I brought in a sandwich from home. I’ll have to skip Archie.
I turn back to my computer, pulling my phones out of my pocket, when inspiration hits. I open my personal phone, pull up the voice-recorder app, and leave it on the desk next to my computer. I can listen to everything I missed on the train home and still have my summary notes ready for Boss tonight. He’ll never know I nipped out.
Four minutes later I’m at the cafe and Archie is nowhere to be seen. I check my phone, but there’s only a message from Bryan: a link to a video titledSpin class in the eighties!
For a man who once admitted Soul Cycle is his idea of hell (Bryan maintains his fitness through vigorous vacuuming) he finds a lot of time to text me CyclingTok content. This is the fifth text I’ve received from him today. I should have never given him my work phone number.
I’m trying to draft a charitable but conversation-ending reply when Archie bursts through the door.
‘You beat me!’ he exclaims.
I smile. He makes it too easy for me. ‘Ialwaysbeat you.’
‘I had to run up from a presser in the city. Come with me,’ he says, tipping his head towards the corridor that leads to the kitchen. ‘Need to show you something.’
My phone buzzes with two more texts from Bryan.Saw that and thought of you. P.S. Found a new sushi place you’ll love. The edamame is yum to the max!
I slip my phone back in my pocket, refusing to empathy-cringe at Bryan’s ‘yum to the max’. I’ll reply to him later.
Right now, there are more pressing issues at hand, i.e. what could Archie possible need to show me down the corridor? The giant vacuum-sealed spice mixes in the storerooms? The doomsday-prepper-worthy towers of chickpea tins? A hundred kilos of chilli powder for my gastronomic pleasure? I mean, yes, these are all impressive, but also, I see them every time I walk to the bathroom.
‘Come on,’ he says with a nudge. I start walking and he loops around me to take the lead. He’s so big he blocks the light at the end of the corridor. It’s like following a solar eclipse.
‘Where are we going?’
‘In here,’ he says. He looks both ways before easing open a door at the end of the corridor to reveal an unused storeroom. My mind races. Maybe he’s letting me in on a scoop? Is someone stockpiling drugs in here? Or cash? Black market saffron? That stuff’s so expensive, it’d be worth a fortune!
Archie waits at the door while I enter, his hand drifting to my lower back as I slide past. I ignore the warmth of his fingertips through my blouse and scan the room for clues. There’s nothing. No boxes, no briefcases, not even a paltry bag of cocaine or spice mix. I scrunch my nose at the dust. I’m about to spin around and declare this a big disappointment when I feel Archie’s body against mine.
Oh.
‘Millsy,’ he breathes into my neck, as his arms wrap around me. ‘We wasted a whole day.’
My body slackens against him and I make a sound likengrhhhmmph.
‘And on Tuesday you wore that red dress.’ His hand is sliding up my leg and it’s proving difficult to think thoughts. That’s what a brain is supposed to do, right? Think thoughts? I can’t remember at this point.
I make another ungainly sound and decide I’ll let my brain relax for a moment before I kick it back into gear. Like giving myself a warm-up. That makes perfect sense: think nothing, then think lots. Clever me. Clever brain. Well done, Brain, for thinking thoughts. Give yourself a pat on the back, Brain.
Archie’s hands slide to my waist and he twists me around. Luckily my heels appear to be rollerskates, compliantly spinning me around to face him. Before I can draw a breath, Archie’s lips are on my throat, and how strange:I think I am naked.
Am I?
No.
Right, okay, false alarm. It just felt that way for a second because his hands are all over my skin, and his tongue is inplaces that I hadn’t expected, andoh golly gosh, okay, I am fully clothed and in a storeroom with Archie Cohen, and my silly brain is trying to convince me to get naked, but that is a Very Bad Idea. Isn’t it?
I’m trying to say his name to distract him, but only strange sounds are coming out. I’ll have to distract him another way. I reach around him and knead my fingertips into his back muscles. Archie gasps and I search for his mouth.Bingo. His lips brush mine but then they’re gone again, across the hinge of my jaw. My mouth reaches for his, as my body angles towards him.Come back here. Mercifully, he obeys.
Am I in control now? Yes. Oh, no, wait. His teeth gently grab my lower lip, and he’s wrested back the power. I thread my fingers through his beltloops and pull him flush against me. He takes advantage of the momentum to press me flat against the wall. His hand cups my neck then slides down my curves to my waist then my butt, like he’s moulding me from clay. Every trace of his hand leaves goosebumps on my skin.
My phone beeps—Fucking Bryan!
‘Do you need to check that?’ Archie mumbles.
‘It’ll be’—gasp—‘Bryan. And to be honest’—another gasp—‘I never need to hear from Bryan ever again.’
