Erin is, as I expected, in pieces. I know that she had high hopes for Rob."I don't get it." she cries, wringing her hands. "What do I have to do? I offer them everything. I tell them my life story. I make it clear that I won't see anyone else...""I think you try to get too close, too soon," I say. "Lots of guys don't like it if you're all over them straight away.""Oh, don't talk rubbish," says Ben. "When you meet someone, you know right away when they're good for you."Keep your mouth shut. This isn't the time."Cheer up," says Ben, holding her hand. "I've got a friend who's just broken up with his girlfriend. We could all go out together if you like, the four of us. I'll introduce you."And just like that, her tears dry up."Really?" she says. "Thanks. You seem really nice. I'd love to meet your friend.""That's settled, then," says Ben. "How about tomorrow night? Is that okay by you, Kirstie?"Jeez, I don't want to do this..."That would be lovely. Thanks, Kirs

What do I say? James and Charlotte weren't doing anything they shouldn't. The three of them have got it arranged between them...I've come into the room behind Michael, but now... what on earth am I doing here? I retreat into a corner, trying not to be noticed.Michael, striding up behind his brother, grabs him by the shoulders. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at, Ben?"Ben swings back to him, his expression amazed. "What am I doing? What about them? I've caught your wife and your so-called best mate in the act, and you ask what I'm doing?"Michael is clearly trying to keep a lid on his fury, but his voice is strained. "As my brother," he says, "you have many privileges, but bursting into the bedroom on my wife is not one of them."Ben's jaw drops. "You can see what they were doing!" he shouts, waving a hand at James and Charlotte, "And yet it's me you're angry at?""If you believed there was a problem, perhaps you might have talked with me first? Let me handle i

The following day, I am sitting at my desk, working, but waiting for the storm. Nausea rises in my throat and I couldn't face breakfast.The intercom buzzes. "Hello, Kirstie. It's Francis here from the director's floor..."Here it comes..."Can you come up please; immediately. Mr Alexanders has phoned to say he would like a word with you."During the journey up the elevator, my stomach clenches. How will a man like James Alexanders react to what happened? Do I still have a job?I've just lost the best job I ever had...As I step out, there is a pleasant-faced woman seated at a desk."Kirstie?"Feeling timid, "Yes, that's me.""Take a seat. Mr Alexanders is on his way now." She looks across at me, I think with some sympathy in her eyes.Waiting doesn't help my mood at all, but it's only for a minute or so. The elevator door whispers open and James Alexanders steps out, wrath written across his face.He points a long finger at me, then through an office door. "In th

Ryan pulls in to the underground car park of a block of apartments in the good end of town. Inside, the building is expensively carpeted, beautifully furnished and well decorated."I chose a place with a view over the park," he comments as he turns the key and then holds out his hand to let me in first.The apartment is only half furnished, with cardboard boxes stacked in one corner."Sorry about the state of the place," he says. "I'm only half moved in yet. Wine?"Already trembling, I struggle to keep my voice steady, but he's not fooled, watching me through lidded eyes as I respond. "Thank you. Yes." Ryan has a bottle and glasses waiting. Pouring two ruby glasses, he passes one to me. "I would offer you something to eat first," he says, "but since it's not food that you're hungry for right now, I think we'll leave the dining until later."Lost for words, suddenly bashful, I look up at him and then away again.He chuckles, soft and low. "Just because I didn't react in t

Afterwards, as we lie together, naked in the half-light, he says, "I have something for you if you will accept it."He seems a little uncertain as he produces a small satin bag from a side-drawer, the kind that usually contains jewellery. I open it to find a narrow, black velvet choker, with a dewdrop pearl suspended."Will you accept it?" he asks, a trace of anxiety in his voice. "Will you wear it?"Am I being collared?I think I am...I finger it, rolling the pearl in my fingers; so small and delicate a thing, and yet, so laden with significance."You understand what you are asking of me?" I say. "When you give me something like this? When you ask me to wear it?""Yes, I understand," he says. "And yes, I am asking that you wear it for me. Will you do that?"His voice brims with hope and worry; desire and unease. "Am I asking too much of you? Or too quickly?"The pearl, opalescent with pale, swirling, beautiful colours, sits between my fingers.Is this too soon?