Chapter 5

Nic fiddled with a button on the silk shirt as she sat in the back of the taxi. If Casey hadn’t ordered and paid for her taxi to work, she would never have splurged on one, but it had been necessary to order one now. It was bad enough that she walked out of the office in Mr Steele’s shirt; she wouldn't have been brave enough to get the Tube. She hoped they didn’t know it was Mr Steele’s shirt. That would make this a lot more embarrassing. 

No, no, actually, it wouldn’t. Nothing could be more embarrassing than standing in front of her boss in an old, sweaty bra.

“Kill me now,” she groaned.

“Excuse me?”

She remembered she wasn’t alone and clutched her bag to her. Not that the taxi driver would have a clue what she had just done or that she had stuffed her ruined clothes into her bag. She would destroy the evidence at home, where the cleaners wouldn’t see it to spread more rumours.

“Sorry. Just talking to myself.”

She tried to hold her head up when she walked through the lobby, but her experiment today had done nothing but fuel the utter rubbish Andrew said about her in his article. Everyone at work would think that was why she left so early.

Or they would think she was involved in some scandalous affair with their boss after the way he whisked her out of the meeting. Though she had made sure to instruct the receptionist that the meeting wouldn’t resume today, some of them had lingered around in the conference room and had seen her walk of shame out of her office.

She put her head down as she tried to push the horror away again. 

“We’re here, love.”

She took a note from her purse and handed it to the driver before she thanked him and got out with her bags. She still had her flat shoes on; the useless high heels were still in her drawer. She went up the six flights of stairs quicker than she had ever done in all the time she had called this dump home and was relieved when she got to her door without seeing anyone.

She usually used her shoulder to ram the door open, but she didn’t want to ruin Mr Steele’s shirt, so she turned around and bumped it a few times. Once she was in, she went straight to her bin and stuffed the jacket and shirt inside. She paused briefly when she pulled the corset from her bag and felt her face burning again. Never again. She stuffed it in the bin as well and then started to unbutton Mr Steele’s shirt carefully. She didn’t want to accidentally ruin it, especially considering the label on it. She would have to get it professionally cleaned before she gave it back. 

If she ever went back.

She carefully hung the shirt in the small wardrobe and then grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen counter. She didn’t bother putting a top over her bra before flopping herself down on her sofa. Only then did she cover her face and let out a scream. 

Naked. She’d been practically naked in front of Mr Steele. And then she had that ridiculous thought that he had been checking her out! As if that was even in the realm of possibility. He had women like the supermodel Rebecca Varga hanging around him; why would she even think he would look at her that way? 

She took a swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle and reached for her bag to pull her phone out. She had about a million notifications, which she ignored because she knew what they were about. The comments after Andrew’s article still hadn’t stopped.

She found Casey’s name and shot her a quick message.

‘Kill me now! I’m home.’

The reply came quickly.

‘What? Why? I’m due in court; I’ll be there after lunch.’

Nic continued drinking on the sofa, reliving her morning over and over again. When Casey let herself in that afternoon, she was pretty plastered.

“It was horrible, Case,” she started the moment the leggy blonde walked in. “So horrible. I was naked, and my fat rolls were hitting him in the face and everything.”

Casey stood in front of her, still dressed in her work clothes since she had probably come straight here. She had somehow sprawled over the whole sofa, so Casey had nowhere to sit. Damn shoebox apartment! And now she probably had to live here forever because she would have to quit her job and survive on her savings until something else came up.

“What?” Casey frowned. “Start again. What happened?”

“I almost died,” she slurred dramatically as she took another swig of the alcohol. She frowned when she saw it was empty.

“How?!” Casey asked, pushing her over so she could sit next to her.

“That damned shapewear! It almost killed me, so I had to cut my clothes off in front of Mr Steele!”

She wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t see her best friend trying not to laugh at her.

“It’s not funny. I’ll never live this down. Mr Steele can never unsee what he saw. It was ugly, Case. I have to quit my job!”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Casey laughed as she stood and grabbed another bottle of whiskey with two glasses.

Casey poured straight shots before handing her a glass. Her best friend didn’t ask why she was drunk at two in the afternoon; she grabbed a drink and joined her. Everyone needed a Casey in their lives.

“That’s not even the worst of it. I thought he was checking me out,” she groaned, covering her face as the memory resurfaced. 

“He probably was, Nic. It’s Damian Steele; he’d stick his dick anywhere.”

“Well, thanks!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Casey laughed. “I don’t know why you’d find it hard to believe that he would look at you. You’re kinda okay looking and have a great rack, which is what probably hit him in the face when you took your clothes off.”

She grabbed a cushion and whacked Casey in the head as her friend laughed. 

“He had to lend me a shirt to wear, and when I was leaving, his current girlfriend walked in. She must think I’m some sort of homewrecker.”

“Girlfriend? You mean, one of many,” Casey snorted. “I don’t know why anyone would think they can exclusively date Damian Steele.”

“Because people always think they can change someone. It’s sad.”

She had been one of those people not too long ago. But never again.

Casey may have picked up where her thoughts were going because she put her arm around her shoulders. This woman had been her best friend since they met in Nursery, so she had been around for everything. 

“Okay, so today didn’t go as planned. That’s okay; there’s always tomorrow,” Casey said. “Don’t give Andrew any more power over you by thinking about him or his ridiculous interview. You can buy another house. Find another man. The best revenge is to live well.”

“I don’t want a man.”

They were polar opposites. Casey was tall, leggy and model thin like all of Damian Steele’s girlfriends, and she didn’t buy her clothes off the rack on the High Street like she did. If she wanted a man, she could walk outside and find one just like that. On the other hand, she would need to work a little harder. And she just didn’t want to do any of that for the sake of a man. Not again.

“You don’t have to keep him. Nothing wrong with having a little fun now and again.”

“I’m not dressing up to go on the prowl. I’m twenty-eight now, long past that age.”

“You already have someone checking you out. You won’t have to work hard.”

“Hang on. Didn’t you just have a problem with how Damian Steele sticks it everywhere? Now you want me to do what? Seduce him?” she laughed.

Casey shrugged as she poured them more shots.

“I’m not saying try to marry the guy. He’s a man-whore, but he sure is pretty. Plus, he would never settle down anyway, so he’s perfect. One or two goes on that ride, and the cobwebs will fall right out. You’ll feel as good as new.”

She almost spilt her drink as she laughed. At least Case had managed to bring her out of her funk.

“You’re scandalous, Miss Adams!”