7

During lectures the next few days, Neil had attempted to engage me in conversation about how my first day at Stone Marketing had gone. Having no wish to relive the mortifying experience, I attempted to keep my answers as short as possible.

On Friday afternoon, he gave it one last attempt. “So, Rosie, are you going to fill us in one what it was like. It would be beneficial for you to share your experience with the other students.”

I shifted awkwardly in my chair. “Er, well it was only my first day. Most of it was just induction stuff.”

Emma caught onto my discomfort, and decided to pray upon it. “Did you meet Mr Stone again Rosie? Now that you know who he is of course?”

Some of the other students smirked.

Anger ran through me. “Yes, I did.” I snapped without thinking. I soon realised my mistake.

Her eyes widened and she spoke with mock awe in her tone. “Wow. How amazing. What is he like? You know…on a personal level?”

I gritted my teeth. “He is very professional, and of course knowledgeable about what he does.”

Emma grinned. “Hmm interesting. I heard he was a bit of a womaniser, but I suppose you won’t have to worry about anything like that…”

The comment caused some people in the room to laugh. Neil simply rolled his eyes. “Alright Emma, that’s enough. I hardly think that has anything to do with marketing.”

I glowered in her direction. I really hated her. Why did she take pleasure in being so awful to me?

After the lectures were done, most students were heading off to get ready for a Friday night out. I never had enough money for that, so I usually spent my Friday’s in the library. Vanessa often joined me. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford to go out, it was just that she liked to study more.

We liked Friday’s in the library anyway. It was one of the least busy times to go. This meant it was quiet, and you could always get a computer or workspace without too much hassle.

As we sat down at our usual spot, Vanessa pulled out crisps and a packet of biscuits.

“Urghh you’re an angel,” I groaned, reaching for a custard cream.

Crisps and biscuits were a luxury I couldn’t afford.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t get too comfortable, I want to know what happened on Wednesday, and why you’ve hardly said a word about it.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. I’d already dealt with this earlier in the lecture hall. “It was fine. I learnt about their social media department. End of.”

I reached for another biscuit, but she promptly pulled the packet away. “No more until you tell me the truth.”

I looked longingly at the confectionary and huffed. “Fine.”

I began to explain what had happened, although I decided to leave out the part about running away. Vanessa would never let that go.

When I had finished, she leaned back in her chair. “He so wants to fuck you.”

Shooting her an incredulous look, I snatched the biscuits back. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve already seen examples of his taste in women.”

Vanessa snorted. “Oh, you are so naïve Rosie. You just wait.”

Thankfully, Vanessa had an assignment to research for. Now I’d dished the details, she was happy to leave me alone.

I also had work to catch up on. I’d struggled to focus for the past week for obvious reasons, which meant I was a little behind.

A few hours later, Vanessa began to pack up her things. “I’ve had enough. I’m going to get an early night and come back in the morning.” She stood up to start shoving her things in her back pack. “Are you staying or going?”

I looked down at the work spread around me. I’d actually managed to get into a bit of a flow. It wasn’t like I had anything to go back to anyway.

“I’ll stay. I’m in the mood to carry on.”

“Okay. Call me over the weekend.”

I watched her swagger away with that effortless grace she possessed, before bending my head back over my work.

By 8:30pm, I had polished the packet of biscuits off. I’d also made great headway into a couple of my current assignments. I decided to see if I could find another couple of books for references before heading back to my room.

As I approached the relevant stacks, I caught sight of Matt pushing books back onto the shelves. Without thinking, I ducked quickly behind another stack. What was he doing here? There was never usually any staff working this late. I bit my lip as I tried to decide what to do.

I needed those books, but the idea of going over while he was there terrified me. I tried to reason with myself that I didn’t even have to interact with him. There was no reason for me to. I took a few deep breathes, trying to force myself to step out from my hiding place.

I peered out to see Matt leaning against the trolley of books. He was in similar attire to what he’d been wearing before, except this time I could see the shape of his legs. He looked stronger than I thought he would. I couldn’t help but glance at his crotch, but I chastised myself and changed my gaze to his face. He was looking at his phone and smiling at something. His smile made me melt, and although I wasn’t close, I was sure I could see dimples. I wondered what his laugh sounded like?

I tried to make myself move forward, but I couldn’t. I shrank back behind the stack, miserable that I didn’t even have the confidence to pick some books while he was there. How unbelievably more pathetic could I get?

I slinked away back to the work space and packed up my things. My motivation had dissipated into thin air.

On the way back to my room, I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. Why was I like this? I felt like a prisoner trapped in my own body. Time and time again I stopped myself from doing things because I was too anxious or scared. I was sick of it.

The sound of my phone ringing in my pocket caught my attention, I took it out to see it was a number I didn’t recognise.

I answered it cautiously. “Rosie Woods speaking.”

Then the sound of his cool silky voice came down the phone. “Miss Woods, this is Mr Stone.”

“Oh, hello Mr Stone.” I cringed at how high pitched my voice sounded.

“I’m calling about your position at Stone Marketing.”

Disappointment began to trickle through me. This sounded like the end of my internship.

“Yes?”

There was a pause, and for a moment I wondered if the line had cut off. I nearly asked him if he was still there, but his voice sounded again.

“Are you available tomorrow lunch time?”

It was a Saturday. Of course I was available.

“Er yes I am.”

“Good, I will pick you up at midday. I have a proposition for you.”

Nerves began to build in my stomach. “O…okay.”

What an earth would he have to say to me now?