The rest of the week plays out pretty much the same, only now, on Friday, I recognise some faces and am no longer sitting alone in the cafeteria. Ripping open a sachet of salt, I sprinkle it over my chips and toss one in my mouth. I listen to the conversation around the table, not knowing enough about the topic to join in. They’re discussing the mysterious James Holden, CEO of Holden House, one of the biggest publishing houses on this side of the world. He’s someone I’ve yet to even see, let alone be introduced to.
“I heard he’s called a meeting for next Tuesday,” a guy called Edward says. I like Ed. He’s a junior, like me, although he’s four years younger and has been here for six months. I don’t know him well, but he has the potential to become a good friend.
“He creeps me out,” Katie, a supervisor from the design floor, replies. “I swear, I was discussing a client with him once, before he made CEO, and he looked straight through me like…well like he’s not all there if you know what I mean. He’s weird.”
“He was probably just uninterested,” Ed counters with an expression I can’t quite decipher. “He pays other people to do the work for him.”
Katie must notice the strange look on his face too because she jerks her neck back. “You’ve slept with him haven’t you?” Her voice is high, almost a squeal.
What the… I keep listening, shovelling chips into my mouth like popcorn.
“Shh,” Ed snaps, scanning his immediate surroundings. “Keep it down.” He looks flustered as he drops his half eaten sandwich onto his plate. “I have not slept with him.”
“You so have. It’s common knowledge the guy fucks his way through the juniors during their first year. Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to be one of them, though,” she says, her tone almost disgusted.
“That’s not true,” Ed says, but his pursed eyebrows tell me he’s not convinced.
He actually looks a little hurt, so I cut in, feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Anyone fancy grabbing a few drinks after work?”
“Can’t,” Katie says. “I have a date.”
“Count me in,” Ed pipes up at the exact same time as Stacey. Stacey has been in charge of showing me the ropes. She’s a manager, but doesn’t appear to be on the same power trip as the others. I like her.
“I’m going home to change first,” I say. “Probably pick up my friend and head out to Canal Street. Meet at eight in Velvet?”
“I’ve never been to Canal Street,” Stacey answers, and my jaw drops open a little.
People travel from all over the country, maybe even the world, to visit Manchester’s famous gay village. “You live in Manchester and you’ve never been to the village?”
She shrugs. “I’m not gay.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “You don’t need to pay by drinking from the furry cup. They accept cash like everywhere else.”
“Funny,” she mutters, only she isn’t laughing. “I’ll be there. Haven’t had a night out in ages.”
I rub my hands together and smile. My night is planned. Dancing, alcohol, and lots of laughter with friends, new and old.
Perfect Friday night.
**********
“Yeah, he’s totally screwed him,” Tess says after I repeat the conversation from the cafeteria earlier. I met Tess when I worked at a bar here in the village to support myself through college. She’d been working there for several months already and took it upon herself to help me settle in. We’ve been best friends ever since.
“Hmm. I dunno. It can’t be true. I’m not buying that every member of junior staff is gay so he can’t possibly have fucked them all.”
“Unless he’s bi. I’ll let you know if I meet him.”
“Oh yeah? How you gonna do that?”
“I have built in Bi-Fi,” she says, tapping the side of her head. “Or maybe he’s a Christian Grey and stalks all potential employees beforehand and only employs the queers.”
“I haven’t read it so I wouldn’t know.”
“Neither have I. Didn’t stop my auntie Michelle telling me all about it in excruciating detail though,” she explains, shuddering at the memory.
“Well, even if that were true he won’t be fucking me. I have self respect.”
Beer in hand, I stretch out on the ornate chair shaped like a throne, glad to be out of my suit and in a more comfortable jeans and t-shirt ensemble. When I spot Ed and Stacey walking through the doors opposite the bar, I stand up and wave them over. Ed’s still in his work clothes whereas Stacey looks every shade of hot in a tight red dress and matching shoes.
Placing my hand on the top of her arm when she reaches me, I peck her cheek with my lips. “If I was straight I’d be totally hard for you right now,” I say, grinning as I pull back.
When I turn, I notice Tess has sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “If I had a dick, so would I.”
Stacey appears a little stunned by Tess’ forwardness and an awkward smile tugs at her mouth. The thing is with Tess, she has a filter, but more often than not she chooses not to use it.
I introduce Tess to my colleagues, who I’m already starting to think of as friends, and we decide to stay here for a quiet drink before heading on to G.A.Y., a club designed for thumping music and dancing rather than conversation. Tess leaves the table to get a round of drinks and I nip to the bathroom. While I’m in there I take a moment to tease the strands of my short, fair hair that have fallen out of style back into place, stopping when my gaze lands on a guy in the mirror who’s just stepped out of one of the stalls behind me.
He stops right next to me, looking into the same mirror as he adjusts the collar of his crisp, white shirt. My pulse quickens and it makes no sense to me. I’ve seen hot guys before. But this guy is more than hot. He’s stunning. So beautiful I feel self-conscious in his presence. Ironing out imaginary creases in my shirt with flattened hands, I study the stranger’s eyes in the mirror, searching for his story. There’s a power behind them. An arrogance. He’s a top, for sure. Something about the way he holds himself tells me he’d never allow anyone to have any kind of control over him.