As the weeks passed and summer turned into autumn, Lottie’s professional triumphs grew from strength to strength. Skilld became a rapid hit with jobseekers and recruiters alike; companies were refocusing their HR departments to prioritise skills ahead of qualifications and even the British government had waded in to debate the significant shift in corporate recruitment. Lure was performing sensationally; Arizona had paid back most of the loan and the charity line had performed better than expected. The huge PR success of partnering with Sew Kind had completely overshadowed Arizona’s arrest, helped along by Eliza’s portrayal of Arizona as a compassionate campaigner who’d been taken advantage of by a corrupt middleman.
Riya had been promoted to help fill the gap left by Dan’s departure and she and Lottie were as thick as thieves, spending most Friday evenings huddled together over weekly reports and Chinese food. During the day, Lottie and Marcus could barely stay away from each other, accidentally-on-purpose bumping into each other in the lobby; meeting illicitly in the underground garage, at the non-descript Premier Inn around the corner and, when Marcus was feeling celebratory, the Shangri-La at the Shard. Whenever he wasn’t orchestrating a face-to-face meeting, Marcus was bombarding Lottie with Skype messages, text messages, the occasional email, which she deleted immediately through fear of anyone tracking her use of company property. It was relentless and intoxicating.
Lottie’s wardrobe was exhausted. She dressed wholly and completely for Marcus Armstrong. She knew which outfits made his pulse race and his mouth water. She knew what days she could tease him and what days he couldn’t afford to be distracted. She became attuned to his thoughts and his needs, and she provided for him in every way she could. She lived for her days in the office, when she was close to him. Even with floors and walls between them, she felt comforted knowing he was in the building, with her and not Annabel.
But the evenings were a different story. The text messages stopped, the emails ceased completely; Lottie’s busy and brain-dazzling day became alarmingly quiet. Every night came as a shock to her system and a searingly poignant reminder of where she stood in Marcus’s life; relegated to the back of his mind – the front of it filled with Annabel. He hadn’t ended things with Annabel, or even spoken about it. Annabel’s relationship with Marcus, Lottie thought, had probably grown and deepened alongside her own. If Lottie had become attuned to his every movement, his every need and desire, how much closer had he and Annabel become? Did he truly love her? Was an engagement on the cards? Lottie couldn’t bear to think about it. The thought alone sliced through her like a knife.
But one afternoon, she was forced to think about it. Lottie had been sitting outside the boardroom waiting to be summoned to brief Marcus and Henry on the progress of Makeover’s licensing offer, when the lift doors opened, and the fifth floor fell silent. All that could be heard was the clack, clack of Manolo Blahnik heels closing in on the far corner of the floor. Lottie looked up expecting to see one of the female directors, but instead was momentarily blinded, the shock of seeing Annabel Gainsborough in the flesh knocking her completely sideways.
“Janet, darling,” Annabel purred as she approached them.
“Hello, Miss Gainsborough,” Janet smiled, broadly. “Let me get you a glass of sparkling. With a dash of lime, if I remember correctly?”
Clearly, it was imperative to be gushingly sweet to the girlfriend of the boss, Lottie thought.
“Oh, call me Annabel, Jan Jan. We’re in a serious email relationship, you and I. Half the time I feel like I’m sleeping with you, not Marcus,” she giggled.
Janet blushed the colour of a beetroot and Lottie kept her face buried in the report she was about to present. Her heart had hit the floor. She wasn’t stupid enough to assume Marcus had stopped sleeping with his girlfriend of two years now he’d got Lottie too, but she couldn’t bear to hear those words from Annabel herself.
“Where is he anyway?” Annabel continued, oblivious to the fact she’d almost given Janet a coronary. “We’re supposed to be visiting my brother. He can’t just cough up for a new state-of-the-art wheelchair and not come and check it out in person. Now that Arthur is too unwell to visit, Georgie hasn’t seen anyone other than me, mummy and daddy for months. My darling boyfriend needs to show his gorgeous, generous face.”
Lottie listened intently. Arthur was Marcus’s father; that much she knew. That, and the fact he was now suffering from dementia. Marcus had been spending the occasional weekend up in Scotland to help his mum and sister, but he wouldn’t be drawn any further on the subject. Not with Lottie anyway. But the fact that Annabel’s brother was wheelchair-bound was news to Lottie. The Gainsborough’s had done an excellent job of keeping that out of the press.
“He’s just with Henry at the moment, and about to go into another meeting after that …” Janet motioned to Lottie. Annabel spun round to face Lottie, looking surprised to see someone sitting there. Lottie looked up and smiled timidly. Did Annabel have this effect on everyone? Lottie couldn’t drag her eyes away from the flowing blonde hair, professionally blow-dried that morning, the skin-tight J Brand jeans and Louis Vuitton sheer blouse. Her eyes were almond-shaped, her nose long and thin, her neck slim and elegant. There was definitely some filler too, Lottie decided, but Annabel’s surgeon had made it look incredibly natural. And she had a figure to die for. Long, lean, tall. Not an ounce of fat on her. There was really no wonder Marcus hadn’t left her, Lottie thought. Annabel looked like a goddess and, from what Lottie had seen on television, she had a quick sense of humour which redeemed her somewhat for the shallow remains of her personality.
“Will it be a long meeting, darling?” Annabel asked her, in a tone far more clipped than Lottie had affected. Her expensive education had paid off at least to that extent and no doubt her close relationship with William and Kate had rubbed off in some way.
“Not if I can help it,” Lottie smiled.
Annabel chuckled. “Hard taskmaster, is he?”
Lottie forced down a blush. “Challenging but fair, I’d say.”
“That’s a very diplomatic response,” Annabel grinned. “Here’s a tip: About halfway through the meeting, when you’re about to keel over with utter boredom, try to weave whiskey into the conversation, especially if it’s a late afternoon meeting. He’s a sucker for the old scotch …”
Lottie knew this already. It was whiskey Marcus had ordered at Blacksmiths, right before he’d fucked Lottie’s brains out. The first time.
“He won’t be able to concentrate, I assure you. Then simply agree with everything he says, wrap it up and you’re out of there!”
Lottie couldn’t help but smile. Shit, she thought, realising she actually liked this woman.
“I’ll give that a try,” she replied. But before the conversation could continue any further, Marcus’s door opened, and he and Henry walked out. Marcus’s face drained of colour the minute he saw Lottie and Annabel just feet apart.
“Annabel!” He said, looking from his girlfriend to Lottie and back. “Do you want to pop in here for a sec?”
“Ooh, into the boardroom. I do indeed, Mr Armstrong,” Annabel replied, flirtatiously. “But we need to go shortly. Georgie’s expecting us.”
“Right, of course,” Marcus said, rubbing his eyes. He looked over at Lottie, who was busy burying her head in papers and willing the ground to open up and swallow her.
“Oh, it’s okay,” Annabel assured him, nodding her head towards Lottie. “She’s already said she hopes your meeting is a short one.” She winked at Lottie who looked up quickly, fearful and embarrassed.
“Oh, don’t worry, darling. He won’t tell you off for that, he’s a puppy dog really, aren’t you Cussy? Now you mustn’t give her a hard time; the poor thing has to put up with you all day,” Annabel continued.
Lottie had no words. Cussy. Was that really Annabel’s pet name for him? It was mortifying. She felt naked, as though Annabel, and anyone else who cared to, could read her sexual history like a book. Marcus glanced at Lottie, his expression unclear. He must be in hell, she thought.
“It’s okay, we’ll postpone the meeting. Is that alright with you, Charlotte?”
Lottie nodded. “Of course. I’ll catch up with Janet tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Annabel.”
Lottie’s head was a mess as she got up to leave. While Annabel had always been a presence in the back of Lottie’s head, seeing her face-to-face had sent shockwaves right through her. Annabel was absolutely stunning, sharp and funny, and clearly doted on Marcus. The fact hit Lottie squarely in the face: Marcus was never going to leave her. Lottie had known this at the beginning but as the weeks passed and she and Marcus became close, a small part of her had dared to hope; hope that he might one day choose Lottie. But it had become clear from the awkward encounter outside his office, Marcus had no reason to do any such thing.
That evening, like every other, lay before her like a long, dreary walk through mud. Lottie warmed up a ready-made lasagne and sat down to read through the latest Silicon Valley blogs. She was always looking for the next big trend, the next titbit of insight that would set her apart from her colleagues. Since she’d talked her way into landing Skilld, several other ambitious graduates at Falcon had tried to match her insatiable and unrivalled knowledge about the start-up scene, but none had the genuine tenacity and hunger that Lottie had. None of them ever came close to having the same intimate understanding of the world they inhabited as she did.
Her phone rang, making Lottie jump. No-one ever called her in the evening, apart from Riya, but even that was rare; they usually made plans in the office. Lottie picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Immediately her heart skipped a beat. It was Marcus. Why was he calling her at 10pm? Shouldn’t he be cosied up on the sofa with Annabel, drinking whiskey and listening to her calling him Cussy? Her stomach convulsed at the thought, but she had to answer.
“Hello Marcus.”
“Can you come into the office? I’m on my way there now.”
“Of course. Why?”
“I’m doing a conference call with Dubai and I left some papers on my desk. I want you to meet me there.”
Lottie’s heart raced. “Do I need to be on the call too?”
“No,” Marcus replied. “But I need to see you.”
“Ok, well I …” Lottie began, but heard the phone click at the other end. Marcus had hung up. Her stomach hit the floor. Was this it? Was he going to end things? He’d seen Annabel and Lottie talking together and maybe it was too close for comfort. He’d got cold feet or more likely, seeing the two of them in close proximity had made him realise that Lottie was half the woman Annabel was. Half in height, half in width, half in looks. But even as that likely outcome hung over her head, Lottie felt excited; she was going to see Marcus again, and in the evening, no less.
She picked out a brand-new Mimi Holliday half cup bra and barely-there briefs which, she thought, may as well have been made out of tissue paper for all the flesh they covered. She pulled on some fairy-light cream hold-ups and dressed in a smart green DVF dress. Marcus loved these so she’d bought several. He loved to unwrap her, literally, like a present he’d been waiting his whole life for. He might have summoned her to end things, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She ordered an Uber – she didn’t want to risk scuffing her outfit on the tube this evening – and tried to keep calm as they wound their way through the busy London streets.
The office building was dark and eerily quiet. The security guard was nowhere to be seen; Marcus must have excused him, Lottie thought. Shivering with nerves, she made her way up to the fifth floor, following the warm glow lighting up Marcus’s corner of the floor. She could hear voices coming from inside the boardroom and see Marcus’s silhouette moving around impatiently. Light-headed, she pushed open the door to the boardroom, the same room he’d taken Annabel into earlier that day.
“I don’t agree,” Marcus barked at the three men on the phone. “If we don’t move now, we could lose the opportunity altogether.” He looked up and immediately his eyes filled with lust.
“But, Marcus, it’s a huge risk. The market is really volatile, we could lose all of it.”
Marcus beckoned Lottie to him. “How do you think I got here, Henry? You don’t get anywhere in life, or business, without taking any risks.”
Lottie walked up and stood before him, as he’d instructed.
“We’re don’t just invest in entrepreneurs,” he continued, his breath hot on Lottie’s face as he reached for the belt holding her dress in place. “We’re the original entrepreneurs. We need to show them how it’s done.”
He tugged at the belt, letting the dress fall open. Lottie was speechless. What if the men on the line could hear that she was there? It was beyond arousing.
“Fine, it’s your call, Marcus. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s my job to be cautious.”
Marcus took a step back to appraise Lottie’s body, barely clad in the tiniest lingerie and delicious stockings.
“And it’s my job to challenge you. There’s nothing I hate more than standing around being cautious, you know that.” He cupped his hands around Lottie’s waist then ran them down, edging her briefs down over her hips. “Lucas,” he said, addressing his MD of Falcon Ventures. “Give me an update on the list of potentials.”
Lottie heard someone leafing through papers and clearing their throat.
“Right. So, starting from the top. We’ve had forty-eight approaches in the last month…”
As Lucas began to run through the report, Marcus turned his attention fully to Lottie who was now squirming with anticipation, astonished that she was being stripped while the directors discussed business. Marcus turned her back to his desk and got to his knees. Letting her gossamer-light pants drop to the floor he eyed her up and down, slowly.
“Oh, God,” Lottie whispered, barely able to control herself and keenly aware Marcus’s line wasn’t muted. Marcus took his lips to her, softly at first, sending her head into a spin, then harder and faster. Desperately, she took hold of his head, feeling his soft brown hair curling around her fingers. She felt insane with desire. There was no way I can hold this in, she thought, as the pressure mounted in her belly.
“Marcus,” she whispered. “Fuck, Marcus, I …” Feeling her climax build on the edge of his tongue, Marcus reached out and hit the mute button on the phone. Then grasping her thighs with both hands, he pulled her closer still. Lottie cried out uncontrollably, her hands clasped around his head. The climax came over and over, pulsing through Lottie like an electric current.
“We’ve been watching this entrepreneur, James Porterhouse, quite closely …” Lucas continued.
Marcus got to his feet, leaving one hand on Lottie, stroking her gently, and taking the phone off mute with the other. “I like the sound of his venture,” he said. “That could be a new type of investment for us; take us in a new direction. I want to diversify. This could be our chance.”
Lottie gripped the desk with both hands, trying to regain her composure, but Marcus’s hand between her legs was keeping her arousal from subsiding completely. She could barely stand, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d never be able to get enough of this. His complete control was infuriatingly irresistible.
“I don’t agree Marcus,” Henry chipped in. “They’re loose cannons. I’ve heard reports they’ve overspent on research funding and operating costs when really their overheads should be barely anything.”
“We could put a CFO of our choosing in there. That would tighten things up.”
“That could work,” Lucas replied, diplomatically.
“Look into it, please.” Marcus instructed. “And the rest?”
Lucas continued with his report and Marcus looked back at Lottie, her eyes swimming with lust. She was close again, he could feel it on his fingertips. This girl was something else; she couldn’t get enough of him.
“Do you want more?” He breathed in her ear, sending spasms of desire through her.
Lottie looked into his eyes, pleading, and nodded. “You know I do.”
“You’re the only one I want to fuck in my office,” he whispered. Lottie’s head spun. Did he mean he wanted her more than he wanted Annabel?
His hand was still stroking her but more slowly now. He wanted her to wait for him. He stood back to allow her to unbutton his jeans which she did, as quickly and as quietly as she could. She stifled a gasp as he sprang free. Before she could think, Marcus had pushed her back on to the desk, her head alongside the speaker phone. She held her breath as he slid into her effortlessly. He knew she was almost there, so he moved slowly, teasingly.
“And that means we have some time before we need to update the board.” Lucas finished.
“Good,” Marcus replied as he moved slowly. Lottie was now biting down on her lip, to stop herself from crying out as the heat built again. “I want to bring the board meeting forward,” he continued, the despairing sighs of the other two men barely concealed. “I want to move quickly. Start-ups don’t hang around; they’ll take whatever funding they can get, so we need to be first in line.”
Lottie’s eyes were wild. This man had stamina of steel; how could he be so controlled when she was melting more with every slow thrust? She reached out and pulled him towards her, digging her nails into his back.
“But we need to conduct our own due diligence first…” Henry interjected.
Marcus winced slightly at the pain of Lottie digging into him.
“We’ll conduct it as we move forward,” Marcus insisted, his own orgasm growing closer. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”
“We’re on it, Marcus,” Lucas replied, amicably.
“Good.” More shuffling of papers could be heard down the line as Marcus leaned down and took Lottie’s nipples in his mouth one by one, licking them hungrily until she was speechless with desire.
“Goodnight gentlemen,” he choked, and hung up.
“Marcus!” Lottie cried, unable to put it off any longer. Marcus drove deeper inside her, feeling every part of her clinging to his thighs. She was there already, shuddering beneath him in sheer ecstasy. It was the longest, most relentless orgasm of Lottie’s life, ending with Marcus’s lips covering her face.