Played By Riggs

4

"I can't believe you invited him to your Mother's for the weekend. I've never seen you jump on a guy this fast."

Tina was prying for a response from me, and as much as I wanted to reply, I wasn't going to give her what she wanted. She knew how to rattle me up so well that I often wondered if she took notes of what worked and failed. It wouldn't surprise me. Especially because of the way she sat at her desk, smirking at me with that familiar laughter in her eyes.

"I mean, really Kelsey?" she paused, "anyone would think you're desperate."

"The only thing I'm desperate for, Tina, is a new assistant."

She bellowed out a loud cackle, grinning from ear to ear. "You wouldn't get rid of me. You would miss me too much."

Yeah. It was annoying how right she was. Out of all my employees, Tina worked the hardest. She was my secretary after all, and I didn't take it easy on her. Especially in her interview. After my first secretary popped out a little one, she decided she loved being a mother to much to come back to work, so I had to find someone else. The effort of listing interviews and finishing that whole progress was pointless when I had applicable employees like Tina. I knew I would take her on for the position before I even began her interview, but it was nice to watch her sit there all nervous.

"But, back to James Branson. How are you going to cope all weekend in his presence?"

I sat back in my chair with an irritated groan. "His presence is just as minor as it would be anyone else."

"Oh, please. A man that gorgeous is anything but minor. In fact, I reckon his package is complex and-"

"Tina," I cut her off. "I hold no interest in James' package, so please, put a sock in it."

She rolled her eyes. "You say that now, but once you get to your Mothers, the attraction will hit you like a slap in the face."

It was easy lying to Tina, but not so much to myself. It was a task I hadn't yet succeeded in, one I'm not sure if anyone really has. I couldn't even lie myself into, or out of, a take-away on a Saturday night. I'd tell myself I had a long week at work, that I was - as my Mother always phrased it - emotionally dead. Hell, it worked. I would eat the take-away with no guilt. But waking up on that Sunday morning, a food baby still breathing underneath my shirt, the guilt sure kicked in.

Nor could I lie myself out of visiting my Mother, as of course, I'd landed myself there for the whole weekend.

It was a different story, this. Completely different, for James Branson didn't, not even a little bit, fall into the category of chicken fried rice and sweet and sour chicken balls, with a glass of wine and, perhaps a bowl of chocolate ice cream if I felt like it. He fell into a category I couldn't lie myself out of even if I took a course on how to lie your way out of attraction. And I was damn good on courses.

It didn't hit me, as Tina said, like a slap in the face. It did when I first saw him, when he barged into my office unannounced; my eyes couldn't check him and his suit out fast enough. But, when Keith drove me to his diner, and he joined me in the back of the car, I realised just how attractive he actually was. And I wanted Tina fired.

"I brought some food for the journey," James said as Keith turned onto the main road of which led down to my Mother's village. "Keith, your regular order. And Kelsey, I mixed together something I think you'll love."

I took a peak in the packet and saw mayonnaise seeping from the sides. "How did you know?" I frowned.

"When you interviewed me, there was a subway receipt on the side. Extra mayo."