“Christ, you’re right,” he said with a shaky laugh. “I think I am going to need some feeding up!”
SEVEN
The next week I found myself working long hours at a contract job in Canary Wharf and I had little chance to visit the Haven. The placement was two weeks’ holiday cover, until their office closed for the Christmas break, and there was no offer of it becoming permanent. But I took it because I needed the money, and I had to be grateful for whatever I could get. The agency who placed me did their best to find me jobs, based on their clients’ good recommendations. But it wasn’t like I’d ever be offered a decent management position when I couldn’t provide a reference or qualifications.
At least I’d worked at this company before and I liked the people. So, I’d joined them this evening for a drink at the local pub. It was a welcome distraction, surrounded by a group of loud, party-loving mates, including several good-looking guys. That would usually keep me entertained on many levels.
But I hadn’t looked at another man for sex since my evening with Blake.
Celibacy sat uneasily on me, like a constant prickle under my skin. Sex was just sex, I loved it, and I was alert to the opportunity most days. I’d never had a problem attracting guys, and it was no secret to my few close friends that I liked earning money from it. I missed the intimacy it brought me, the building tension in my groin, the orgasms, the blissful relief, however temporary. I mean, I jerked off, I watched porn, I had way too many erotic dreams.
But I didn’t go looking for the real thing.
Those erotic dreams? They all featured Blake Marshall. His feral smile, his strong hands on my arse, his grunt and the push of his hips as he claimed me. Again and again.
Fuck that. No pun intended.
I hated the restlessness he’d left me with. I rarely thought about anyone after we’d fucked and gone our separate ways, and I’d never looked for the relationships other people craved. I’d learned my lesson about loyalty and trust when I was much younger. Of course, there were people I cared about. Just… not my punters.
So tonight, I leaned on the bar in the crowded pub, watching my fellow workers laughing and relaxing at the end of a working day, and tried to shake off that restlessness. I had a few more drinks than I usually would, but I wouldn’t go too far. It was a long Tube journey back to my flat, and the weather was still shitty. There’s nothing worse than a Tube trip surrounded by frustrated and weather-beaten commuters, all desperate to get home, when all you want to do is curl up and sleep off too much beer.
God. I was depressing myself even further.
My office manager, Peppi, nudged me as she came over with an order for drinks. We’d worked together before, she was fun, bright, and conscientious. If there was any justice in office life, she’d get the promotion I knew she’d just applied for.
“Dante, you’re being an antisocial tosser tonight.” Her lazy American drawl always drew heads, even in a crowded pub. “Are we keeping you from something special?”
“No, nothing like that.” I laughed and beckoned the bartender over for her. I was six inches taller, so I got seen first—and also, he and I had history, a couple of fun, no-strings-attached nights at his bedsit last summer, so he’d been looking out for me since I started visiting his pub again.
Peppi leaned on the bar next to me while the bartender went to fix her order. She’d always treated me fairly, even though I was a temp. She didn’t tolerate any discriminatory behaviour from anyone, and she didn’t treat me like the tea boy.
“Will you stay on with us, Dante, after your contract ends?”
“I’m not sure it’s an option,” I said diplomatically.
“And yeah, what the hell’s all that about?” she said bluntly. “Surely you’re looking for something permanent? All I know is, you’re too good for what you’re doing now, any fool could see that.”
“And we work for a few of those,” I joked. But she wasn’t to be distracted.
“Seriously, Dante. You’re the smartest temp we ever had, yet they pay you a pittance and drop you the minute the holiday’s over. You want me to put in a word for you in HR, get you on the management track?”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” How to explain the inexplicable to someone who actually seemed to care? She didn’t know there were gaps in my resume, that I’d never finished my training contract. That there were reasons I’d never get to climb a career ladder in the future. Reasons I didn’t want anyone digging into my past career, either.
“I’m not keen on responsibility,” I said with a grin to mask the lie. “I’m happy with the casual life.”
“If that’s what you want people to believe, that’s fine.” Peppi shook her head. It made her braids shake, the small silver beads she used in her hair at work glinting like gems. She was a very striking woman, and I knew at least two of the guys—and one girl—at work were pining for her to notice them. But she never gossiped about her or anyone else’s private life, she knew how to keep things respectful. I think that was why I appreciated her friendship so much.
As I helped her steady the tray of drinks, she paused and looked up at me. “Dante, I hope I’m not out of order, but I’d be honoured to be considered your friend. And if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m a good listener.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. What would I want to talk about? “Thanks,” I said, because that’s what her kindness deserved. “But I don’t think there’s anything I need to get off my chest.”
It was meant as a joke, but Peppi didn’t smile. “Soon be Christmas, I can’t believe the days go so fast at this time of year. Do you have anyone looking out for you this year?”
Looking out for me? Surreptitiously, I glanced over to where our colleagues were standing, hoping one of them would call her away, wondering where their drinks were. “Peppi, love, I’m quite capable of coping on my own over the holiday. I admit, I don’t have any family in London—” and she wasn’t to know I hadn’t spoken to any of them for many years now “—but you don’t need to worry about me.”
She sighed. “When people tell me that, I know I should. What about anyone else?”
“Anyone else?”
“Some cute man who sees the real Dante,” she said softly. “You need it, my darling.” She’d known I was gay since we first met, without making any issue of it.
“Don’t be daft,” I said gently. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone to make it so. Here, let me help you with that tray. Rob and Andy are gonna be devastated if you spill their premium beer, right?”
I lasted another hour, until I knew I’d had too much beer on an empty stomach, and I was ready to leave. Peppi and the others had already gone home, but I’d somehow got delayed, chatting with a group from another company in our building. I had no idea what their business was, didn’t really care, and when a few of them started singing along, loudly and out of tune, to the Christmas songs being played over the sound system, I decided enough was enough.
One of the younger guys met me in the corridor as I came away from my last visit to the Gents. I’d forgotten most of their names, it had only been a casual meeting, but he’d been friendly enough. I smiled and nodded on my way past, until his hand on my arm gave me pause.