Page 30 of Fling

Jack: True . . . but the rules only say no face photos . . .

Tara immediately began to panic. She wasn’t completely green, she knew what Jack meant. He was asking for a photo of her body. But she didn’t currently feel very sexy in her white granny knickers, with a face full of Sudocrem.

Claire: Well, maybe I’ll have to take some photos tomorrow to give you a reason to come back x

Jack: I think that sounds like a plan

Claire: But I want to see some photos of your body too. Fair is fair

Jack: Deal. I just hope I don’t disappoint

Claire: After what you just described, I don’t think you could possibly disappoint me

Jack: Well, in that case, chat same time tomorrow?

Claire: Definitely. 11.11 p.m. x

Jack: I’ll be counting down the minutes

Sweet dreams, Claire

Claire: You too, Jack x

Tara felt like something within her had come back to life. She was still short of breath after imagining Jack taking control. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this aroused. She was downright flushed. Her drought was over. Her clouds had burst. She had prayed for rain but Jack had unleased a sensual storm, a tempest of temptation.

There was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on. Their connection was almost primal. And how right her instincts were when she got her gut feeling about him. It had been years since she last experienced a synchronicity and she had almost forgotten how powerful a sensation it was. Enough to conjure her spirit and set her soul on fire. Her spiritual compass had found magnetic north and it was pulling her towards Jack. Tara had spent the past few months desperately searching for her destiny.

But destiny, it seemed, had found her.

Chapter 9

Tara woke up the next morning not entirely sure if her online encounter with Jack had been reality or some kind of erotic dream. When she realized that it had in fact happened, she found herself smiling uncontrollably. She had always been one of those people who dreaded getting up in the morning. Yet here she was waking up naturally an hour before her alarm and practically bouncing out of bed. Her inner soundtrack of sad depressing notes had been replaced by the opening glissando piano slide of ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’. What a gift Jack had given her. Music. She had gone from a state of perpetual numbness to a kaleidoscope of emotion. It was as if months of anaesthesia had finally worn off.

She felt awoken.

What was it about Jack that made it impossible for her not to smile? She felt a fit of euphoric laughter taking over her body. She hadn’t experienced this kind of sexual chemistry since meeting Colin for the first time. But what she had with Jack felt different. It felt deliciously obscene. Fate was fuelling a forbidden fire. It was a more mystical, transformative kind of chemistry.

It was alchemy.

Jack had turned her heavy heart from lead to gold, like some virtual Midas touch. She felt recharged with erotic energy, her libido fully loaded. Her battery was at 100 per cent, her vitality restored. It was as if Jack had fulfilled some secret wish that she hadn’t even remembered making, at least not consciously. He had scorched her leaves with light and saturated her roots with water. She felt her body ripening for her new gardener’s touch, as if she had saved all her summers just for him. That’s when she remembered the simple word for this feeling she had long forgotten.

She felt alive.

With her extra time before work, she decided to ditch the dry shampoo and enjoy a lengthy hot shower. She washed, conditioned and blow-dried her hair in a manner that gave it a bounce that dry shampoo simply couldn’t compete with. Afterwards, Tara dug deep into the trenches of her closet and picked out a Millennial pink pencil dress with short cap sleeves that she hadn’t worn in years. She opened up an unused True U make-up pallet that the company had gifted her and applied just enough to highlight her features. She slipped into a pair of rose gold heels and put on some drop earrings to match.

When Tara finally looked at herself in the mirror, initially she felt like a whole new woman. But when she thought about it, she realized that she actually felt more like herself than ever before. For the past few years she had been a shadow of her former self, an imposter she didn’t even recognize. But now, there in the mirror, was the woman she used to be.

After sneaking down the stairs and avoiding Colin on the couch, it was time to start her day with her fresh new glow-up. When she arrived at Insight, her revamped aesthetic was turning heads. She saw members of staff she barely knew pop their heads above their cubicles, like curious little meerkats. Some people looked at her as if she was a completely new employee they had never seen before. Was she really that unrecognizable? She couldn’t believe she had spent so long in frumpy pantsuits. She finally felt comfortable and confident in the clothes she actually wanted to wear. Although she did wish the dress had pockets.

As soon as Tara entered her office, Emily did a dramatic double-take and spat out her coffee.

‘Who are you and what have you done with Tara?’ she asked, her jaw on the floor.

‘I gave her the day off. Claire’s in charge today,’ Tara smirked, taking her latte from Emily.

‘Wait a minute . . . did something happen on Fling last night?’ Emily asked, putting the pieces together.

‘What makes you think that?’ Tara asked coyly.

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