Pistol

Chapter One

Stephanie Drake pushed the ever growing pile of paper that cascaded from her in-tray back in line. Her boss, Greg, fed from the look his employee's gave him when he dumped their final workload on them at four o-clock on a Friday. She watched as he swaggered from desk to desk, through the maze of sterile cubicles that made up the offices of Shank and Leamer. Every detail about the smug prick irritated her beyond reason. Possibly due to the fact he had tried a lame pass at her the first week of her employment.

Three rows up, Cassidy poked her head around the mid-height, grey partition, and checked the coast was clear before she snuck out and bolted to Steph's hidey-hole. Steph giggled as the curly blonde stepped in, and crouched beside the chair to obscure herself from view.

"What an ass." Cassidy swept her loose locks aside as she spoke, and absently pinned them back.

"I wonder some days how he manages to stay married."

Cass rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well. None of us have met 'Mrs Greg', so who knows, she might be just as up herself as he is?"

Steph snorted at the assumption. "You're probably right."

"So?" Cass shuffled about until her back leant against the desk drawers. "What are your plans for tonight?"

Steph shrugged. "Not sure."

"Come on. Davey boy must have something organised? He always does."

"Dave broke up with me last night," Steph replied flatly.

"Aw, babe." Cass tipped her head to the side, and pouted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He was an ass about it, so I guess it was better now than later."

"What'd he say?"

Steph's eyes roamed over the memos and notes stuck to her cubicle wall. "He said he didn't feel that way about me anymore; that he felt like he had to force sex with me."

Cass drew a sharp breath, and stood. "You're kidding?"

She shook her head. "Apparently I'm 'not long-term material'."

"What a bastard."

A smirk pulled at the corner of Steph's lips as she nodded to her friend. "I threw his x-box out the door as he left." She stifled a laugh at the memory.

Humour twinkled in Cass's eyes, and she leant in for the rest of the gossip.

"It left a dent in the hood of his car." Steph's smirk grew to a grin.

"Good girl." Cass clapped. "That monkey loved his damn BMW more than you."

Her grin faded, and she looked away again. "He loved a lot of things more than me."

"Well," Cass started indignantly. "I think you need a pick-me-up."

"Ahem." Both girls whipped to face Greg as he leant over the top of the partition. "Busy girls?"

"I'm on my way back to my desk, Mr Daniels." Cass stopped short of batting her lashes at the man.

"Good to hear, Miss Pratt."

Steph eyeballed him as he swaggered back to his office at the end of the walkway. She turned back to Cass who wore a devilish grin. "What?"

"Dress, heels, and hair. All done by eight. I'll pick you up." Cassidy circled Steph's chair, and paused in the walkway to waggle a finger in her direction. "No excuses."

Steph's back straightened as she drew taller, and slapped the side of a stiff hand to her brow. "Yes, Ma'am."

With a glance in Greg's direction, Cass chuckled and headed back to her cubicle. Steph pushed the office chair out from the desk, and propped her heeled feet against the edge. Her shirt bunched as she slouched in her seat to hide behind her knees.

Cassidy meant well, and as much as Steph knew guys like Dave were better off somebody else's problem, it didn't stop the heartache at ending a two year relationship. Sure, the guy was a complete tool, but he had been her tool. Massive ego aside, he had been a great provider, and cared for her when he was home. It was the times he was out-without her-that were the issue. Dave was a looker: six-four, built, sandy blonde hair, and deathly handsome in a suit. So no wonder every time he went out-with or without her-the guy would turn every female head in the room.

He said he'd never cheated on her-and he was right, as far as she knew-but his self-awareness was the killer. He knew he was a catch, and he knew he was wanted. He just didn't want Steph as much as he wanted to be chased. Two days before New Year was no coincidence when it came to timing for his break up. She held no illusion as to the fact he would be out on the prowl for his next conquest tonight. And he wouldn't be short of offers.

Steph dropped her feet to the floor with a dull thud, and picked up the stack of forms Greg had given her. All she could hope was that wherever Cass planned on taking her tonight, they went somewhere new. Because like hell she wanted front row seats to the public maul of some new woman by Dave.