DANGEROUS AFFAIRS- Where Angels fear (2.The Partnership)

Tom grabbed Stephanie’s hand and ran down the field on the other side of the fence. When they reached the road, he stopped and took hold of both of her arms.

“Stay here you hear me,” he said firmly. “I’m going to get the car. Give me your keys.”

“But what if it’s not safe.” She ran a hand through her hair.

“It’ll be okay...as long as you stay put.” He gestured for the keys and she reluctantly handed them to him. He noted the way her hand was shaking.

Sprinting away, he turned briefly before disappearing around the corner to shout, “Stay!”

It only seemed like moments later when the car came to a screeching halt on the road in front of her. She jumped into the passenger seat and they sped away from the house.

They spent the majority of the drive back in a tense silence. Stephanie was still stunned by what had happened and, although she made an attempt to talk to Tom, one look at his face told her to keep quiet for the time being. He drove towards the city but took the turning for Clapham instead of heading further into London for Kensington where the office was located.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’ve had enough of today, I’ll phone Brick when I get home. My place isn’t far,” he replied brusquely.

They pulled up outside a large, Georgian style house which had presumably been converted into apartments. He took a parking spot in the driveway, turned off the ignition and got out of the car, taking the keys with him.

She shouted to him out of the car door. “Hold on, I need the keys.”

He bent down to speak to her. “You’re not driving in that state; you’ve had a bad shock. And besides, we need to talk.” He strolled towards the front door, and she swiftly got out of the car to follow him.

“I’d like my keys back please,” she said with annoyance at his highhandedness.

He ignored her, unlocked the security door and entered the building, striding up the carpeted steps without a backward glance. She had no choice but to follow. His apartment was on the second floor, and he let them both in, making straight for the kitchen, which was situated at the end of a small corridor.

“Do you think we could get this over with as soon as possible so that I can go home?” she said, watching as he reached for a bottle of vodka in one of the kitchen cupboards and took out two glasses to fill.

He handed her one. “Drink this, you need it.”

She looked at the glass but didn’t take it. “I’m fine thank you; I’d just like to get home.”

He glared at her. “Look, I’m not in the mood for this Stephanie, just take the damn drink will you?”

She thought for a moment and then took the glass from him. He picked up the bottle and walked past her, entering the lounge which was a few doors down the corridor. Placing the bottle loudly on the glass coffee table, he fell onto the sofa, kicked off his shoes and took a gulp of his drink. She stood over him, and he eventually looked up at her, ready to talk.

“One, don’t ever do that again. You take it upon yourself to go walking into a situation like that without consulting me and I’m out of this story…and you will be too if I have anything to do with it!”

She simply stared at him, feeling anger and frustration, but unable to argue with him. She had probably done the wrong thing after all.

“Two, you can’t just go strolling onto someone else’s property like that. You didn’t even try to conceal the fact that you were there.”

She kept her eyes on him. So she had made a mistake, but she wasn’t going to beg for his forgiveness.

“Lastly, “ his arm shot out and he caught her hand, pulling her onto the sofa next to him, “why are these stories so important to you Steph?” His voice was a little softer now.

She paused just for a second. “Oh come on Tom, you know as well as I do that this one in particular could be a story bigger than the newspaper has ever seen.”

“Sure, but ask yourself this, why do you think no other reporter has gone for this story before?”

She shrugged.

“Because it’s too damn dangerous. You don’t mess with people like that Steph. It sure as hell isn’t worth risking your life over it!” He took another gulp of his drink without taking his eyes off her. Something didn’t fit. He couldn’t work out why this meant so much to her.

She didn’t know how to respond and couldn’t do anything other than take a sip of the vodka herself and look back at him.

He eventually broke the silence. “Okay, you want to do this fine. But from now on we discuss everything. I can’t protect you if you act so impulsively. Do we have an understanding?”

She sighed. “Yes but Tom, one minute you’re all fired up about this, and the next you don’t seem to give a damn. Why come to the bar in the first place if you weren't interested in these kind of stories? It’s not as if I asked you to get involved.”

He looked a bit uncomfortable with the question. “I heard your conversation with Brick and I knew that you’d go after this,” he said casually.

“You haven’t answered my question Tom.” The intensity of her eyes hit him then as they bore into him, seeking answers.

He gave a small laugh, breaking eye contact. “Hey, I couldn’t let you walk into a situation like that on your own. I mean, look at you,” he turned back to her and looked her up and down, “a glamour girl in a place like that, with people like Carlton. They’d have seen you coming a mile off.”

Her eyes frosted over. “Don’t patronise me Tom. I’m a damn good reporter, not a dumb blonde.”

“Exactly,” he came back quickly, “You’re a reporter Steph, not bloody MI5!”

“No, but despite what you think, I know how to deal with people. I wouldn’t have got this far if I didn’t.” she was becoming defensive.

He took in a deep breath. He didn’t want to start another slanging match with her. “Look, I know that you’re an excellent reporter Steph, don’t get me wrong, I can tell that from your articles, but you haven’t dealt with people like these before. That’s why you have to involve me in this. The moment you start thinking you can do this on your own, you’ll end up like you were last night when I took you home, or today at the house.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, but I still don’t see why you’ve taken it upon yourself to be my protector all of a sudden. And anyway, what makes you such an expert on people like these Tom?”

This conversation was beginning to hit a raw nerve with him. He finished his vodka and stood up.

“I don’t know about you Stephie, but I’m famished. We haven’t eaten all day,” he said, avoiding the question and grabbing the vodka bottle. “Come on, you can help me cook something.”

He walked back into the kitchen and she followed him.

“I’ve got to go home,” she stressed.

He turned to her suddenly and looked her directly in the eyes. “Why?”

The question threw her for a moment. “Because...” she faltered.

“You have to eat, I have to eat. So let’s eat,” he said, opening the fridge and taking out some chicken pieces and vegetables. “You any good at peeling veg?”

She gave a wry laugh, withdrawing a knife from a block on the kitchen counter and picking up a carrot. “I’m not bad for a dumb blonde.”

He grinned and moved closer to her, putting his hands on the counter top either side of her and trapping her there.

“Yeah, a dumb blonde who can write a mean article, peel veg and who has a body to stop any man getting much sleep at night.” His eyes were roaming again, hovering on the front of her blouse and moving downwards over the her skirt, which emphasised her slim figure and the curve of her waist and hips.

“Hmm, and who happens to be armed at the moment,” she said holding up the knife between them. He grimaced and moved back with a laugh.

“Don’t know what I was thinking. Heaven help Carlton if he had tried it on with you!”

She chuckled and began peeling the carrots.
“So, do you cook a lot at home then Steph?” Tom asked as he turned the oven on and transferred the chicken pieces into an oven dish.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “No,” she said with mock innocence, “I only get as far as chopping the veg.”

“Oi cheeky!” he laughed, digging his fingers into her ribs and moving around her to open a cupboard at her side. His hand remained on her waist as he reached to take a bottle of cooking oil out. It lingered there for a while before trailing across her back whilst he moved to the oven dish again.

“I have been known to produce one or two culinary delights on occasion. No one has keeled over yet from my attempts,” she grinned.

“Better not take the risk and leave the cooking to me eh,” he winked.

“I tell you what,” she put the knife down and leant backwards on the counter, watching him prepare the meat for the oven, “take a risk and leave the potatoes to me. You might be surprised at my talents.”

He turned his attention to her. She looked so sexy in a kitchen. He had no idea why. Maybe it was the way that she was leaning provocatively against the counter top. Well it seemed provocative to him.

“I’d love to experience all your talents Stephie,” he grinned, “be my guest.” He opened a cupboard below him and gestured for her to seek out the potatoes.

She crouched down, holding his gaze with her eyes. They were doing it again. Why couldn’t she resist flirting with him? His eyes moved to her blouse once more as she rooted in the cupboard. He could see the slight evidence of creamy white skin which developed into soft curves under the material. He was becoming obsessed with finding out what was hidden underneath her blouses. Then his gaze moved to the hem of her skirt, which revealed the smooth length of her legs as she crouched, and he discovered another obsession. He’d always noticed her before of course in the office, but now that he was spending time with her at closer quarters, she was exciting him more and more.

She stood, and he returned to his task, finally placing the chicken into the oven. She finished preparing the vegetables, peeled the potatoes and moved around him to the sink to wash them. On her way, an impulsive mood hit her, and she put her hand on his hip, moving him aside. He turned in surprise, looking down at her hand, and his eyes widened. A smile played at his lips. They stood for a moment, watching each other with amusement until she spoke.

“You’re in the way. I need to get to the sink,” she said, her eyes moving purposely to the sink and back.

He smiled and moved aside, watching her washing the potatoes. Her silvery blonde hair fell across her flushed cheek, and he would have loved to have known what she was thinking at that moment.

After slicing the potatoes thinly, she raided his cupboards and fridge, pulling out butter, bacon, seasonings and spices. Tom placed the vegetables on the hob to cook and went to work on preparing a creamy sauce for the chicken, whilst Stephanie stood next to him frying the potatoes. It occurred to Stephanie then that for two people who could have such fierce arguments, they seemed to make a fantastic team. There appeared to be an undercurrent of competition between them that was always threatening to surface, but despite this in many ways, they were equal... or similar at least.

Eventually the potatoes and vegetables were ready, and they only needed to wait a few minutes for the chicken to finish cooking. Stephanie returned to the sink to wash her hands, but Tom decided to butt in too, knocking her hands out of the way playfully to move his under the tap. She narrowed her eyes at him, nudging his hands away, at which point he decided to see how far he could push her by flicking his hands under the water and splashing her. The water spilt onto her blouse and face, and she stood there glaring at him. He couldn’t quite work out her reaction though, so he went on to tease her further.

“Come on Steph, you can take on Carlton but you’re not up to taking on me?”

She thought for a moment before reaching for a cup, filling the bottom of it with water and throwing it over him. His eyes searched hers in delight and he grabbed the cup off her.

“Okay,” she said nervously, “now we’re even, so put the cup down Tom.” He filled it to the top and slowly approached her with a wicked glint in his eye. “Come on now, give me the cup,” she urged, holding out her hand, more for protection than anything else. He made a sudden movement and she grabbed for the cup, spilling the contents over both of them. There followed a frenzy of grabbing, pushing and laughing as they fought to spill the remains of water over each other until he eventually caught her around the waist and lifted her up onto the counter top. They both stopped then, panting for breath and wondering how she had ended up on there. His eyes flicked to the wet transparency of her blouse and took in the outline of her lacy bra underneath it. He was hit then with a desire for her so strong that it shocked even himself. Suddenly the air crackled with electricity, but he was so busy picturing them naked and steamy on the counter top that he only noticed the spark in her eyes when his gaze moved to her face. His fingers began to stroke circles on her waist where his hands had remained and his eyes burned into hers. He was daring her, or she was daring him, it wasn’t clear which. His eyes fell to her mouth and he began to edge towards her, but something snapped in her head and she pushed him backwards. He sighed but smiled.

“My god, you’re a temptation Miss white,” he said.
**********
Tom moved to the oven and took out the chicken, whilst Stephanie slid off the counter top. She looked down at her blouse and peeled the wet material away from her skin, shaking it by the collar as she attempted to dry it out. Tom’s attention was diverted from the chicken to Stephanie, and he spilt some hot fat onto his hand as he carelessly placed the dish onto the hob. He cursed and dived towards the sink, turning on the cold tap and holding his hand under the water.

“What have you done?” Stephanie exclaimed, rushing to him and glancing down at his hand.

He grimaced. “It’s okay, I just burnt my hand a bit.” He pulled his hand out from under the water to study it.

“Keep it under there,” she urged, pushing his hand back. “You need to keep it cold for a while or it’ll continue to burn.” He stood with his hand under the stream until the water made it numb with cold. “How does it feel now?” she asked.

“It’s ...” he began but changed his mind. “Actually it’s really, really bad.” For a split second she looked quite concerned until he continued. “I don’t know how I can bear it if you aren’t able to make me feel better.” She rolled her eyes at him, took hold of his hand and, to his amazement, she raised it to her lips and kissed it. Just as he thought his luck was in though, she abruptly dropped his hand, saying,

“It seems all right to me, come on let’s put the meals out before they get cold.” And taking two plates out of a cupboard, she began to dish out the food.

“Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ll set the table,” he replied, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of white wine and hoping that it would help her to loosen up.

They sat in the lounge at the dining room table to eat their meal and chatted about past articles they had written before Stephanie eventually broached the subject of the Carlton story.

“Do you think that we’ll get a telephone call from him?” she said out of the blue.

“Carlton?” He knew exactly who she had meant.

“Hmm.” She was hesitant to bring up the subject again, but he had said that they needed to discuss the story and share everything, and they would be working on it again the following day.

“I’m not sure. I’m also not sure if I want him to call or not. If he does, it could be even more risky for us now if he suspects something.”

She sighed and put her fork down. “Look Tom, I suppose that I owe you an apology for today. It wasn’t the wisest of moves on my part.”

“No.” He couldn’t disagree.

“Still, if I could have just...” She watched his expression change and stopped. “Yes well, we’ll just have to see if he phones or not and go from there.”

He nodded and changed the subject. “By the way, I was right to take the risk...about the potatoes,” he added, “you’re not a bad cook Steph.”

She smiled. “Well, I suppose that you’re not bad yourself Tom.”

He wondered if she was referring to his cooking or to himself in general.

They finished the meal discussing cooking techniques and recipes, and it surprised her that of all subjects they could have talked about he was interested in that one. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to enjoy spending time in the kitchen, but then, how did she know what kind of man he was? She had to admit to herself that she may have had preconceived ideas about him.

After having eaten, they took the dishes into the kitchen and she began to think about leaving. He sensed this and ushered her back into the lounge.

“Hey, you want to watch a film? We have that wine to finish off too,” he said, heading for the television and DVD collection. He started to search through the films.

“I really should be going home now. It’s getting late,” she replied.

“Come on, it’s not that late Cinderella. Grab the glasses and the bottle, and I’ll find a film.”

It felt odd being there with him like that. Okay, so they had enjoyed a meal together, but to sit and watch a film...somehow that felt strangely intimate. The kind of thing a girlfriend and boyfriend would do. She collected the wine nonetheless, placed it on the coffee table, picked up her glass and took a seat on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her. Well, if she was going to stay for a film, she may as well make herself comfortable.

He placed a DVD in the player and joined her. It was one of the action films that took up practically all of his DVD collection, but he had little else to offer her. He had never really worried about this before with previous dates, expecting the women to accept his choice in film, but now he wondered if she would enjoy watching it and part of him wished that he could put on something less stereotypically male.

They began to watch the film, but as it progressed the long day, the large meal they had just enjoyed and the wine began to take its toll on Stephanie and she found herself fighting to keep her eyes open. She’d have to leave in a minute, but she’d just wait a bit longer. She was warm and comfortable; she’d face the cold of her car in a minute or two.

Tom looked across at Stephanie and noticed that she had fallen asleep, with her head rested on the sofa arm, and her legs curled up on the cushion. He looked at her for a second as if he was trying to decide what to do. After a moment’s hesitation, he eventually put his glass down and moved to the space between her and the back of the sofa, nudging her across slightly. She stirred then and looked back at him in bewilderment.

“Shhh,” he said, making a point of looking engrossed in the film.

In the back of her head, she knew that she should get up, but her body seemed exhausted and she really didn’t have any energy. She’d wait until Tom had finished watching the film. Nevertheless, before she knew it, her eyes were closed again. By the time the film had finished, both of them were asleep.

Tom suddenly woke, and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. His heart jumped with excitement when he saw Stephanie in his arms. She had her face turned away from him and his one arm was underneath her, wrapped around her middle, his other hand resting on her arm. He lay completely still for a few moments, just looking at her. Then his fingers started to stroke the soft skin on the inside of her arm, slowly running up and down it, loving the way she felt under his touch. She didn’t stir, so his hand moved of its own accord to slide down the side of her body, where it came into brief contact with the side of her breast. His heart began pounding. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but his hands couldn’t seem to get enough of feeling her. He turned his face into her shoulder and brushed his cheek against it, breathing in her scent. He would have to stop soon, but he wanted to prolong the moment for as long as he possibly could.

Stephanie slowly opened her eyes as she felt something trail down her arm. She felt Tom behind her and realized suddenly that it was his fingers. She lay frozen, her heart thudding. Then his hand moved and her eyes widened in shock as she felt him touch the side of her body. Her face flooded with colour and her breathing quickened. Then his hand was at the side of her breast and she tried desperately to hide the sudden impulse to gasp. She felt his head move to her shoulder and she closed her eyes then, afraid he would know that she was awake.

Tom shifted slightly, bringing his chest into even closer contact with Stephanie’s back. Before she could stop herself she trembled, her body instinctively pushing back against him. He lifted his head then to look at her face. She kept her eyes closed. Was she awake? He found himself wondering what she would do if he turned her around now and kissed her. How would she react? Would she slap him or would she kiss him back? Would she want him to touch her as he desperately wanted to? He wanted to feel her react to him. He wanted to pleasure her.

This had gone on long enough. Stephanie realised with sudden shock that she was allowing Tom to seduce her. She had to be more careful or, before she knew it, she’d end up in his bed. She moved away from him and sat up, making a point of stretching as if she had just woken.

“I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?” she asked.

He bit back his disappointment and looked at his watch. “Two o clock. Sorry Steph, I fell asleep too.”

“I had better be going or I’ll be falling asleep at the office tomorrow too,” she said, searching for her bag and standing up.

“I should phone for a taxi,” he pointed out.

She shook her head. “You won’t get one now; I’ll be fine Tom.”

He thought for a moment. “You could stay here. Then you won’t have to drive.”

She looked warily at him. “No thanks. I’ll be fine, honestly. I’ll see myself out,” she said, grabbing her keys from off the coffee table.

He followed her to the door nonetheless and she turned to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the food Tom. See you tomorrow...or today,” she amended.

He laughed and she felt a sudden warmth at the way his smile made him look so incredibly sexy. She certainly would have to watch herself!

He was itching to lean forward and experience what it would be like to feel her lips under his, but she was back to the old efficient Stephanie of the office. She’d never go for it.

“Night Steph,” he said, watching her walk away.
That night, Stephanie found it almost impossible to get any sleep. She couldn’t stop the events of the last forty eight hours from playing back through her head like some kind of movie which kept getting stuck on rewind and replaying itself again and again. And all through the movie, Tom played a central character. He was charming and fun, exciting and dangerous, intriguing and often unfathomable, sometimes harsh, but always there, especially when she needed him the most.
This had been foremost in her mind as she had driven home, got unchanged and climbed into bed. She had focused on that as a way of justifying her actions, or more accurately, her lack of action, in the car park and later whilst on the sofa. My God, she had almost got shot and he had been there to protect her, warn her, and get her to safety. She realised during her drive home that she hadn’t really thanked him for that, after all, he had put his own life at risk to get to her. All of these things considered, no wonder she was acting out of character with him. It had been one hell of an emotional day. But from now on she would act more responsibly, appreciate his help when it was offered and who knows, they may get this story into print and become good friends at the end of it.

However, despite the very reasonable conclusions she had come to, there was a niggling anxious feeling in her stomach every time she recalled those intimate moments with Tom.

She eventually fell asleep just before daylight began to seep into her bedroom, and she awoke just a few hours later with a splitting headache. Forcing herself out of bed, she trudged into the kitchen to find some painkillers in one of the drawers. She couldn’t face the day with a headache, especially if that day was going to be anything like the previous one!

About half an hour after Stephanie had arrived at the office, she heard the booming sound of Brick’s voice calling her to him. Although she was used to his unpredictable ways and bursts of temper, the sound of his voice still never failed to make her feel slightly nervous.

“Where is that bloody maverick reporter colleague of yours Stephanie? He’s late! Again!” Brick growled at her as she entered his office.

“I’ve no idea Sir,” she replied.

He looked suspiciously at her. “What did you two finally get up to yesterday anyway?”

She was horrified to feel a slight blush creep into her cheeks as a vivid recollection of Tom’s hands slowly travelling down her body hit her. Brick narrowed his eyes.

“We went to Hugh Carlton’s house but he wasn’t in so we left the housekeeper a contact number. We are expecting a call from him today.”

“Hmm.” He looked as if he didn’t entirely believe her. “Well, you’d better go and get Tom because I have tried his phone four times now and he isn’t answering!”

“Oh…okay,” she looked surprised.

“Well, go on then,” he said sharply when she didn’t immediately move.

“Yes Sir,” she said, turning on her heal and leaving his office.

“Stephanie!” he called after her, “Don’t you need to know where he lives?”

“No, I already know that,” she shouted without thinking, biting her lip as she left the department.

Brick frowned and stared at the door through which she had just left. They seemed to have become very familiar with each other all of a sudden. What was that Casanova up to? Stephanie was one of his best reporters. He’d be damned if he was going to let Tom throw her life into chaos just because he had a roving eye!

*******************

Stephanie rang the bell for the third time, keeping her finger on the button and listening for evidence of movement inside Tom’s flat. She must have woken up half the building by now, so what the hell was wrong with Tom? She could feel a growing impatience.

"Okay! I'm coming!" could finally be heard and a dishevelled Tom opened the door. Stephanie pushed past him to enter the apartment.

"I've been here for fifteen minutes now, didn't you hear the bell?" she asked. He rubbed his hands over his face and stifled a yawn, heading back for the lounge. "You look dreadful!" she observed, following him, glancing around the room and taking in the empty Vodka bottle on the coffee table and the pillow on the sofa.

"Alarm didn’t go off," he said looking dazed and confused, "what time is it anyway?"

“Half past ten. Brick is screaming blue murder!” She turned her attention back to the sofa. “Did you actually get to bed last night?”

“Not exactly. Ended up putting another film on and fell asleep in here.” He still looked half asleep.

“Brick’s going to love the sight of you,” she said, folding her arms. “You look like you could do with at least a couple of hours in bed.”

He leant backwards against the sofa, moving his eyes over her. "Good idea, want to join me?"

She smirked. "Don't think Brick would be too pleased."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so it’s just bad timing then?"

She frowned. "You know what I mean. Come on, we've got to go, and you look as if you need to sober up." She took him by the arm and pushed him towards the door.

He looked backwards at her. "So domineering all of a sudden.”

“Well, I would like us both to keep our jobs,” she exclaimed.

“Sure, but I’m not going anywhere without coffee first,” he insisted, changing direction and making for the kitchen. She followed, watching as he flicked the switch on the kettle. "Hey, you want some?" he asked.

"No thanks, just get a move on."

"My head isn’t working properly yet." Leaning over the counter, he rested his head on a cupboard.

"Hangover tom?"

"Hmm." He stood up and busied himself making some coffee. "Want to grab some aspirin for me Steph? They’re in my room somewhere... door next to the lounge."

Would she take the bait?

Sighing, she left the kitchen and shouted over her shoulder, "Can you be a bit more precise? Where exactly are they?" She made her way into his room, tripping over the clothes that were strewn across the floor.

"In the drawer by the bed I think."

She sat on the bed, opened the drawer and searched inside, but saw no sign of the aspirin. Then she glanced at the table on the other side and moved over the bed to look in there. She pushed the items in the drawer aside and finally found a bottle of aspirin. Glancing at the floor, which resembled an obstacle course, she tutted and crawled back across the bed but rushed to get off when she heard Tom approaching.

"Ha! Got you in my room..." he halted at the door when he saw her. "... and reliving a fantasy at the same time!" he said with surprise, watching her crawl across his bed. At last she managed to reach the edge but caught a foot on the bedclothes, flying forward. She slid down the side of the bed and ended up half crouching, half standing, holding onto the bed covers for support. "Well almost..." he said watching her with amusement, "...I'll handle Brick, lets work on the details." He reached out and caught her by the arms, pulling her upright and towards him. He smiled slowly as he watched her upturned face fill with colour. There was a pause, but then she shook her head abruptly and untangled herself from him.

"He'll have your guts for garters if you don't get a move on! And you might like to think about tidying up sometime, it's like any army assault course just to get across this room!" she chastised, pushing the bottle of aspirin into his hand and leaving the bedroom.
“I think that we should research that house more and any of Carlton’s connections,” Stephanie suggested to Tom, as they pushed open the office door and entered. “And then, if he doesn’t contact us, we need to rethink our next course of action. Maybe we could go back to the house and keep an eye on it from afar, see who goes in and out so that at least we can get some idea of who we are dealing with if we decide to contact Hugh Carlton again.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind getting out of this office as soon as we get a chance. Being scowled at by Brick all day, and having the four walls of this place close in on me isn’t my idea of a fun day,” Tom replied, collapsing into a chair at Stephanie’s desk. He still had the remains of a headache and wasn’t looking forward to facing Brick. Some more fresh air was what he was hoping for. He put his forehead on the desk in an attempt to stop it from throbbing.

Stephanie looked at him and sighed. “You look as if you’re at death’s door.” She crouched down in front of him and placed her hands on either side of his head, lifting it up. “Let me see you,” she said. He was surprised by her action and gazed into the soft blue eyes so close to him. “How many aspirin did you take?”

“Two,” he replied, scrunching up his face in pain.

She sighed. “Well then you can’t take anymore at the moment, but I tell you what, in the interest of Brick not skinning you alive and us actually getting some work done today, I’ll get you another coffee and something to eat, because you haven’t eaten yet today and if you still have a headache in an hour, I’ll risk giving you another painkiller to top up the two you took about,” she looked at her watch, “just over an hour ago.”

“You have some here?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“In my desk drawer, in case of emergencies,” she replied.

“Well this is an emergency,” he said, reaching for her drawer.

She grabbed his hand and held it away. “No you don’t, not until at least an hour... after the coffee and the food.”

“And a kiss,” he added, stroking his thumb over her hand which was still holding his. She pulled it away.

“One, you’re not getting a kiss anyway, and two, if I was to kiss you,” his face lit up, “which I wouldn’t, it certainly wouldn’t be in here!”

Tom accepted the comment, but to him it just sounded as if a kiss somewhere else was on the cards.

He grinned. “Sure.”

Stephanie stood up and went to get the coffee and food for Tom. There was always an order of toasties and takeaway breakfasts in the office at that time. She picked up a fairly plain toastie and poured him a mug of coffee, returning to the desk and handing them to him.

“This is the best I can do, pick out what you don’t like from the toastie but eat it!” she ordered.

“Yes mam!” he saluted her. She smiled. She was so cute, and he actually loved the authoritative Steph, she was very sexy like that. Cute and sexy, wow, that wasn’t something he ever thought he’d see together in one person. But then Stephanie was definitely a one off!

By the time Tom had finished his coffee and toastie, Brick had realised that he was now in the building and a loud bellow came from his office, demanding that he see Tom immediately. Tom rolled his eyes and wearily got up out of his chair, trudging towards Brick’s office.

Stephanie watched him go and prayed that he wasn’t going to come out of the office in the same mood as he’d come out of it yesterday. Fifteen minutes later, Tom re-emerged looking extremely glum. Stephanie reached into her desk drawer and pulled out some painkillers, tipping one into her hand.

“Here, you can have this now if it’s going to help,” she said, passing him the pill.

He gave her such a melancholic look and then grabbed her hand suddenly, pulling her towards the door and out into the corridor.

“What is it?” she asked in confusion.

He backed against the wall and leant his head back against it in anguish. “Have you ever just felt as if the whole world is conspiring against you Steph? Just when you are this close to getting yourself back on track, someone comes along and messes everything up.”

She looked at him quizzically. “I suppose, but why would you feel like that? What’s going on Tom?”

He had such a look of pain on his face, both physically and emotionally. “Ah, Steph,” he exclaimed, suddenly pulling her towards him. He held her tightly as if his life depended on it, and she was so shocked, that she put her arms around his neck and held him back.

“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong Tom?” she asked softly.

He pulled back and looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “You’re an angel you know,” he said, kissing her on the cheek, “and you’re way too good to get involved in this.” And with that he turned and went back into the office.
Stephanie followed Tom back into the office and sat at her desk opposite him. His eyes flicked up very briefly as she sat down, but for the rest of the morning, they said very little to each other. They passed files and articles between each other, but there was none of the lively interaction between them that there had been the day before, and if Stephanie was honest with herself, she missed that. Whatever Tom and Brick were involved in, it was eating Tom up, and although she would sincerely like to help him, or at least offer a sympathetic ear, she decided not to push him about it. She hoped that if they worked together for any length of time that he would eventually come to her and open up.

At around one thirty in the afternoon, Stephanie’s mobile phone on her desk top rang and she picked it up, answering it without much thought. As soon as the person on the other end began speaking however, her head shot up from her work and she was fully alert.

“Oh yes, that would be lovely. We would love to join you,” she said, picking up a pen and jotting something down as she listened to the person’s instructions. “We will be there, thank you.” She hung up and looked across at Tom to see him staring at her. “That was him,” she said with excitement.

He frowned. “What have you arranged?” Obviously the agreement they had made to consult each other before making any decisions concerning this story hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

“Oh, I’m sorry but I had to make a sudden decision, and I thought that it might give us some more insight,” she explained.

“Okay, what might give us some more insight?”

“Well, we’ve been invited to a party on his boat on the Thames tonight. I just thought that we could mingle and get talking to people. You never know, it may uncover something.” She looked optimistic, but Tom didn’t look too certain.

“Do you not think that maybe Hugh has put two and two together about us? Why would he invite us to a party?"
"Look, Hugh hasn't been near his house for the past week; he's been on the boat. That's why he wants us to go there; the housekeeper has obviously passed on our message."

“Hmm." Tom was more nervous than ever, but then again, Stephanie would forge ahead without him anyway if he didn't go with her. "Okay, but you stay with me at all times, do you hear me?” he said, pointing a finger at her.

“Yes Sir,” she teased, smiling at him. Despite himself he smiled back. He liked to see enthusiasm and excitement light up her eyes.

They had spent the whole morning, and a chunk of the afternoon, researching Hugh Carlton again until there seemed to be not a lot more to find out about him and his campaign. By mid afternoon there was little else to do apart from routine paperwork, and now that they had the evening invitation, neither of them could find any enthusiasm for tackling anything else. The day seemed to be dragging on however, and Tom found himself willing the hours to pass. He sat for a while, contemplating this boat party that evening. More time with Stephanie was definately something that appealed to him, but not at the expense of their safety. He had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. He looked up at her and she had a dreamy far away look on her face. He wondered what she was thinking about.

After having completely given up on work, Tom was sitting at his desk making a continuous clicking noise with a pen. Stephanie was sitting opposite him, staring blindly down at a blank piece of paper. She was sititng with her elbow on the desk, her head resting on her hand. She glanced up at him without moving her head, breathed in and sighed loudly. There was more clicking. Reaching across to his desk, she snatched the pen away from him. He stopped, looked at her, and then went into her desk drawer to pull out a stapler, which he proceeded to snap open and shut. She made a face at him and he put the stapler down, leaning across to say quietly,

“Watch this.” He’d had a brainwave.

Pushing his chair backwards, he reached out to the desk behind to pick up a camera, whilst calling across the office to the nervous young apprentice, Robert.

“Hey Bob, you know what this is for?” Robert was pouring himself a cup of coffee, and he turned around to walk towards them.

“I think I might know that one,” he said sarcastically. Tom had tried to catch him out before.

“What is it for Bob?”

“It couldn’t be for reporting could it?”

“That’s right, very bright of you Bob. But do you know how this could be used to carry out the very best reporting?”

Robert thought for a moment. “The reporter has his camera handy to take photographs of the scene or celebrity et cetera. Have I passed the test Tom?”

“No, no actually Bob you haven’t passed, and I’ll tell you why. You gave me the obvious answer; you haven’t been reading up on this have you? Now I know the latest on this subject, and I’d like to bet that Stephanie over there knows too. You want to impress Brick Bob?”

“Go on.” He looked interested.

“Well, have you ever seen one of those shows when some woman gets hypnotised by some guy who’s swinging a shiny watch or pendant in front of her eyes?”

He didn’t seem to be understanding where Tom was going with this, but he nodded his head anyway. “Yes, I’ve seen something like that before.”

“Yeah, so you know what I mean. Well it’s kind of like that. They have invented a camera now which, when used to take a photograph of someone, it hypnotises them. It has given top journalists great opportunities to get interviews off even the most reluctant interviewees, and it would seem that the people are compelled to always tell the truth as well.”

Robert looked uncertain about believing what Tom had said.

“Not many people know about this, but Brick is really interested in the subject, isn’t he Stephanie?”

Stephanie grinned. “Yes, yes he is.”

“Now that one’s on me, because I want to see you get on in this job Bob.”

“You’re kidding me aren’t you Tom?” Robert said with a dubious look on his face.

“Now Stephanie just told me that you would say that, but I said that you would be smart enough to know when I’m trying to help you. I mean, it’s up to you, but no one else has got that kind of inside information. Mention it to Brick and you’ll see by his reaction that I’m telling the truth. Better still, take him in a coffee, he was asking for one just now, and maybe you could slip it into the conversation.”

“He wants a coffee?” Robert asked.

“Yep, I heard him say just now,” Tom answered.

With that, Robert went back to the coffee machine and poured another cup. Tom looked across at Stephanie and grinned. She had her hand up to her mouth, biting a finger in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Then Robert knocked on Brick’s door and walked in with the coffee.

“He won’t do it you know,” she mouthed to him from across the gap.

“Want to bet?”

They sat, all eyes on the office door, and moments passed until suddenly Stephanie jolted in her seat and dropped the pen when Brick’s voice boomed out from the office,

“TOM!”

Both of them burst out laughing.

“You are cruel Tom, you know that?” Stephanie said in a broken voice as she shook with laughter.

“Ahh, but I’m good,” he said with a huge grin as he placed his feet on the edge of the desk and winked at her.