Stormy Summer by Suzy Turner

Chapter 2

He muttered something to himself and turned his attention back to the magazine and yelled, 'Ricki, get me a coffee. White, three sweeteners, as usual.'

His young assistant curtseyed behind his back while the rest of us sniggered. Again, he missed it.

I watched Ricki in her tight pink mini skirt, high-heeled shoes, and virtually transparent blouse seductively sway her hips as she walked over to the coffee machine. She was wearing rather a lot of make-up, and her blonde shoulder-length shaggy hair was continually flicked in an attempt to look sexy. Considering the looks she was getting from the numerous dorks in the room, it obviously worked.

Personally, I thought she looked like a tart. Simple, really. Actually, Ricki was a bit on the simple side, and she was a bit of a tart.

Ricki's biggest admirer seemed to be Grayson Rosenblum, who was actually less of a dork than the rest. In fact, he was rather cute and, come to think of it, he had quite a sexy physique if perhaps a little skinny. Looking at him closely, he actually resembled Nicholas Cage (albeit very slightly). Jeeze… Why the hell had I never noticed him before?

I guess I'd never really taken any notice of the men in the office because I'd resigned myself to becoming celibate, especially since my relationship with Russell, which had ended when I found him in bed with my mother. That was one whole year ago, roughly around the time that I began working at the Gazette.

Believe me, finding the man intended to be the father of one's future children having s*x with one's tart-of-a-mother was not a welcome or pretty sight.

I cried for about four months solid. If it hadn't been for Gwen's great support through the entire period, I'd probably still be sobbing away now, feeling sorry for myself and never wanting a relationship with another man again. In fact, if it weren't for Gwen, I'd probably be a lesbian by now.

I forgave my mother, but I couldn't forgive Russell. In fact, he never showed his face around town again. I'd heard that he'd shacked up with some blonde bimbo down in Devon somewhere. No big loss.

My mother had always been like that. A tart that is. And my father…well, I never knew him, because I was the result of a one-night stand some twenty-four years ago. I don't think my mum knew anything about him, either. I'd be surprised if she even knew his name.

I think that sad beginning to my life has had something to do with the fact that so far, my relationships with men have always ended terribly. Before Russell, there had been Aaron the biker, who only gave a s**t about his bike. He was so obsessed with it that I hadn't been too surprised at finding him sitting n***d on it in his garage while j*********f. I left him to it and didn't see him again. No big loss.

After my obscure dream, I guessed it was about time to try again with men. I mean, for the past few months I've been having s*x with something that requires batteries, for God's sake.

I had another look at Grayson, which turned into a long hungry stare. He caught me looking and smiled. I smiled back and blushed from head to toe. He was actually a bit of a hunk. At least he looked like a bit of a hunk. His problem was his fascination with the young, under-dressed, high-pitched little Ricki. I came to the conclusion that if he fancied her, then I was definitely not his type.

With my short-cropped blonde hair, tall sporty figure, small boobs, tendency to wear clothes that leave something to the imagination, and the ability to hold a decent conversation, I was probably exactly what he didn't like in a woman.

Oh well. Back to celibacy.

Suddenly bringing me crashing back down to reality, Mr Negativity was at it again, tutting some more. 'You know, I take one step forward and ten steps back in this place. Why hasn't this been done?' he hollered at one of the poor messengers from upstairs, as she quickly shrugged her shoulders and retreated back out of the main office.

'Bleeding moaner, why the hell can't he just leave everyone alone and take a long walk on a very short pier,' whispered Jim, a colleague who closely resembled an albino rabbit, with light ginger hair, freckly face, deathly white skin and constantly bloodshot eyes. It's no wonder he still lived at home with his mum, especially considering he was over 50 years old. He seemed like a nice bloke, though, but… ahem…definitely not my type. I nodded in agreement and decided to get some work done.

A few hours later, starving and ready for a bite to eat, I grabbed my handbag and headed outside into the rain. Deciding on a nice healthy lunch, I headed towards McDonald's. But before I got there, I felt something vibrating in my handbag. Pulling out my mobile, I put it to my ear.

'Hello?'

'Hello. Look I've just found your note on my car. Can we meet?' said the male voice on the other end of the line.

Shit.

'Sure, but I was just about to grab some lunch. Do you work at The News Corporation? If you do, perhaps we could meet there after work.'

'Yes I do, but I was just about to get some food too. Where are you now?'

Oh great, now I've got to sit down with some pompous arse stranger going on about their precious car for an hour when all I wanted was some peace and quiet and a decent b****y burger and a nice big strawberry milkshake.

'Sure. I was heading to McDonald's. I'll wait for you there. I'm quite tall with short blonde hair, and I'm wearing…'

'Black stockings and suspenders, I hope!' chuckled the voice.

I pretended to find him amusing and told him I was actually wearing a grey trouser suit with a pink blouse and I'd wait for him inside the entrance. What a perv.

A couple of minutes later, I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to find Grayson staring back at me.

'Grayson, it's you!' I gasped.

'Well, you don't think I would have made the comment about stockings and suspenders to a complete stranger, do you?' he said with a warm smile.

'Yeah, but how did you know it was me?

'A friend in accounts saw it happen.'

'Oh. I'm really sorry about your car.'

'That's okay, we'll talk about it later. But first, food—I'm famished. How about you? Lunch is on me.'

'Don't be silly. It's on me, especially after I put a dent in your car.'

'Summer, I insist. Let me take a beautiful woman out for lunch.'

My smile faded. He'd brought Nicki with him. 'So where is she then?'

'I was talking about you, you silly girl,' he laughed as he steered me towards the queue. 'So, what do you fancy?'

Besides you, I thought, eyeing him up and down and picturing what he would look like lying in my bed... n***d except for a bow tie.

I opted for the chicken nuggets: far less messy, and I could eat them looking a tad more seductive than if I were stuffing a mayonnaise-filled burger into my mouth.

We had a great lunch, talking about work and stuff, but I figured he wasn't really interested in me as he didn't really ask about me personally.

But as we were walking back to the office, he stuttered, 'Summer, I... Would you... Shall we…?' I concluded that perhaps he was asking me out on a date. Or rather, I hoped he was, anyway. I smiled, and finally, he came out with it. 'Would you like to go out with me sometime?'

'You know, Grayson, I'd love to,' I said, as he held open the office door for me.

Gosh, he was a real gentleman, too.

'How about Friday night? I'll come and pick you up,' he asked.

'That would be terrific. I'll give you my address later. And thanks for lunch. Oh, the car. You must let me pay for it.'

But he wouldn't accept anything.

Bloody hell, this really was turning into a good day, after all.

Chapter 2

When I arrived home later that afternoon, Gwen was waiting for me. She lived in the flat upstairs, so it wouldn't have mattered if I was late.

'Hello, Luv,' she said in her wonderful broad Yorkshire accent.

'Hiya. Did you just come downstairs?'

'Uh-huh. Literally. Look, I bought a bottle of wine! Okay, I bought two, and I made a chicken casserole. I'll be expecting you at seven on the dot. Okay, Luv?'

'Gwen, that sounds like heaven. Speaking of heaven, I've got a funny story to tell you, but I'll tell you all about it later. Do you want me to bring anything?'

'Just you and your funny story, Luv,' she said as she skipped up the stairs back to her place. 'See you in a bit!'

'Okay, bye!'

oOo

'…and then I was in such a state that I hit a car in the parking lot!'

By this stage, Gwen was rolling about on the floor in hysterics. 'No more, my stomach can't take it. Stop making me laugh, Summer!'

'You're not supposed to be laughing, you're supposed to be sympathetic—I dreamt I was having the best s*x of my life with a total nob—literally—woke up before coming, had to use a blinking vibrator to finish off the job and then I go and crash my car, and you're in b****y hysterics! Some friend you are, Gwen Pursehouse!'

But by the time I'd finished, I was in fits of the giggles too. I mean, I guess it was pretty funny.

'I'm glad that you found a good use for your birthday present!' she guffawed.

'Ooh, yeah, what a great pressie. Ooh, yeah, baby yeah,' I said in my best Austin Powers impersonation.

Laughing, we began to clear the dining table after polishing off the remains of the delicious casserole that Gwen had created earlier.

'You know, Gwen, that casserole really was something else. It was absolutely delicious. No wonder Hugh wants to marry you.'

'Oh charming, you mean you're saying it's got nothing to do with my amazingly gorgeous looks and body and my personality-to-die-for?' she said, trying hard to look serious.

'You know what I mean, girl! So, why don't you take him up on his offer? He's a nice enough guy. Except for the fact that…'

'Don't say it, Summer… No, I said don't say it,' she said, her face screwed up in an attempt not to laugh.

'The fact that his name is Huge Johnson!' I burst into raucous laughter at the thought.

'His name is not Huge Johnson at all! It's Hugh Johnson! There's a difference. A huge difference! And stop laughing, you. Stop it, stop it.' She started flicking me with a rolled up dishcloth.

'Ouch! I'm sorry, but I just can't help it. It's so funny. I mean, come on, well… does Hugh Johnson have a huge johnson?' I laughed.

'Summer! As a matter of fact, he does, but don't tell him I told you so!'

'Lucky ol' you, girl!'

We laughed and finished washing the dishes and then went and sat down with a couple more glasses of wine.

'So what is the real deal with you and Hugh, then? He's asked you to marry him so many times. I'm beginning to feel quite sorry for him,' I asked.

'You don't marry someone just because you feel sorry for them, do you? Besides, I've told him I'm not ready for the marriage scene just yet. We're happy as we are, at the moment. We don't need some stupid piece of paper, do we?'

'Oh, come on, Gwen, you've got a weird thing going on with the guy. When you're feeling horny, you give him a call. Otherwise, you don't bother. And the fact that he's willing to wait around for you like that is incredibly sweet. He obviously really loves you.'

'Oh, for God's sake, Summer, I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay? Please just give me a break,' she snapped.

I apologised for being so pushy, realising that it was obviously a bit of a sore point. I wondered why but left it at that, so I changed the subject by telling her about the rest of my day.

'I still haven't told you about my peculiar lunch hour today,' I stopped for a swig of wine and continued, 'and I managed to get a date with rather a nice looking chap from work. We're going out on Friday night.'