“I like older ladies,” Annabelle said. “That’s not a crime, is it?”
I nodded, but what she said barely registered. I was so wasted and I had absolutely no idea how to get home.
“I know she looks a bit older, but she is only sixty-three.” Annabelle kept talking while fiddling with the scandalous number of shot glasses on our table. “And she has the most wicked sense of humour.”
She’d been banging on about her sugar granny for what seemed like ages and I just wanted to sleep. “I’m going to text Lucy. She can pick us up in her car.”
“No, no. I can’t face her in this state,” she slurred. “I’ll need to reapply my makeup.” This caused a fresh wave of giggles to burst out of her mouth.
“Let’s do one more shot while we wait. It’s all fucked now anyway,” I said.
“If you call in sick tomorrow, I will grass you up.”

Lucy towered over us, the expression on her face torn between anger and sympathy. At the sight of her, Annabelle tried sitting up straight, her lips pursed into an earnest pucker, but it was way too late to fool anyone.
“I’m so sorry, Lucy,” I tried to say but she walked off to the bar.
She came back with two large glasses of water. “Both of you, shut up and drink this.”
I went a bit soft inside. I liked her stern but caring-despite-herself side. She dragged Annabelle and me out of the pub and dumped us in the backseat. When we arrived at Annabelle’s she lifted her out of her seat and escorted her all the way inside, leaving me dizzy and nauseous in the car, sucking cool night air through the open window.

“You will suffer in the morning, darling.” Lucy tore at my pants, trying to get them off so I didn’t have to sleep in them. “And I will enjoy every single second of it.”
“And you claim to love me. I’m appalled.”
“I gather Annabelle has now had all her suspicions confirmed?”
“Well, yes, but it was more a trade of information.”
“I think you should stop talking now. Once again, I’ll clean up your mess in the morning.” She stroked my cheek with the back of her fingers.
“I’ll doubt she’ll remember much tomorrow.” I was already half asleep.
“Don’t make the mistake of underestimating Annabelle Brooks.” The last words I heard before slipping off into a deep slumber, images of Annabelle, Lucy and Mrs Henderson crowding my dreams.

When I arrived at the office the next day, a strategically planned half hour later than Lucy, my head throbbing violently and my stomach not able to hold anything down, I had to blink several times at my screen before I could read the name ‘Lynette Henderson’ clearly in my e-mail inbox. Had she and Annabelle spoken already? And was it really her? Did people over sixty actually use e-mail? She invited me to ‘a private lunch’ at noon and I didn’t know what to do first, swallow some more painkillers, see Lucy and panic or strangle Annabelle.
“Lucy’s in a meeting,” Annabelle chirped. “Followed by a lunch, so she won’t be in before two, maybe three.” Had she planned this?
“What are you playing at?” I asked, my voice broken and my hangover visible all over my face.
“I have no idea what you’re implying, Lee.” She looked so fresh and crisp. There were no signs of burst blood vessels in her eyes and her complexion was as healthy as ever. She had probably set me up but I had no idea what for, nor did I have the energy to find out.

To be continued…

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Alcohol may destroy your liver and cloud your judgment but it’s the best social lubricant in the world. After one bottle Annabelle and I were chatting like old friends. Her expertly styled hair got frazzled because she couldn’t stop twirling it around her fingers. Her sharp, all-seeing gaze became a bit more mellow and her cheeks flushed pink.
“What’s it like wanting to look perfect all the time? Like you just stepped out of a make-up ad?” I asked.
She looked me straight in the face, her mouth starting to curl into a small smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the word for that, Lee. I thought you were an expert.” She took another big gulp of white wine. “I believe it’s generally referred to as being femme, or lipstick lesbian if you will.” And just like that she came out to me. I didn’t even have to probe.
“Do people actually still use those terms? They seem like ancient concepts to me.”
She held my gaze and twisted her glass around on the table. “Oh really?” She blinked once, then again. “Because you sure do seem to like your femmes.” She was a sly one. All night she’d led me to believe I was getting the upper hand, slowly, with every new sip of wine, but she was in control, then and always. “I’m her assistant, Lee. I see everything, including all the things I’m not supposed to.”
“I think we need another bottle.” I strutted to the bar and realised that Lucy was probably right. I should have just gone home. I wasn’t exactly sober anymore either, and the first thing that always goes out of the window when I have a few is my common sense. Hence my subsequent questionable decision to go on the offence. I sat back down opposite her and refilled her glass until it nearly ran over. “How’s Lynette Henderson?”
“She’s perfectly fine.” Annabelle seemed unfazed by my question, she didn’t flinch, her poker face remained intact.
“How long’s that been going on for?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” The first thing that cracked was her voice, just a tiny bit, but enough to give me an opening.
“It must be hard, you know, with her being married. The secrecy—”
“Spare me your sympathy. What do you want?”
“What makes you think I want something from you, Annabelle? What could you possibly have to offer, anyway?”
“So you know about Lynette and me. Big deal.”
“I’ve met her and, well, let’s just say I find it hard to see the appeal.”
“What are you accusing me of?” Her tone got nastier.
“Nothing, I’m just trying to understand.”
“It’s not because you have the boss wrapped around your finger that you can sit here and judge me.”
“I’m not judging—”
“I know your type, Lee. You go from woman to woman, taking advantage of the good ones like Lucy. Some drama here, some heartbreak there. I just wonder what will happen once you tear Lucy to shreds again.”
“I’ve no doubt you’ll be there to comfort her.” What was I thinking going up against someone like Annabelle? “Then you’ll have both the board and management in your pocket.”
“And you’ll be out in no time.”
“What do you have against me? What did I ever do to you?”
“Maybe I just don’t like you very much.”
“The feeling is completely mutual.”
She burst out laughing, spraying high-pitched giggles over our table. I was puzzled but her shrill shrieks proved to be contagious and soon I was snorting along, spurred on by the alcohol pooling in my blood and the comic quality of our catty conversation. It was all rather hilarious.
“How about a real drink?” she asked. “Wine is for pussies. We need some shots.”

To be continued…

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When I arrived at work the next Monday I no longer saw Annabelle as Lucy’s ruthless stuck-up assistant. I wondered what she was doing in a dead-end affair with a woman close to retirement. And surely she could find other, more rewarding jobs than PA’ing for Lucy at BTG. Or was Lucy her reason for being there and was I now competing with both her and Joan for the boss’ affections? Despite Lucy’s urgings to leave it alone, I wanted to find out more. Perhaps being uncharacteristically nice to Annabelle would be a good start, even though she would probably see straight through it, but maybe she would be intrigued enough to take the bait.
I casually walked to her corner of the office outside Lucy’s door. Objectively speaking, she was fairly hot, if you like that kind of Stepford clinical nose-job look. I just couldn’t picture her in her empty apartment waiting for a booty call from Mrs Henderson.
“Hey Annabelle,” I said and dug deep to find my most friendly tone. “What are you doing for lunch?”
She peered at me as if I had just asked her to take off all her clothes and run around the office naked for the rest of the day. “Eating a salad, no dressing. You?”
“A new Pret just opened next door. Would you like to get a sandwich with me?”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?” Clearly, she wasn’t up for playing games.
“I realise I haven’t always treated you as nice as I could.”
“And you expect one of those avocado chicken things slithering with mayo to make up for that? Look at me, Lee. I don’t do carbs.” She was playing hard to get, which, in fairness, was completely true to her paranoid character. “And it’s not as if I’ve ever been particularly friendly to you.”
“Maybe we can do something about that? How about a drink after work?”
“Would that be at the Starbucks down the road? The one you never go to?”
“I was thinking more in the direction of a nice glass of Sauvignon Blanc in the pub.”
The mention of the wine seemed to mellow the hard lines around her mouth a bit, allowing a sparse smile to come through. “Sure Lee, I’ll come out to play. You’re buying.” She liked her booze, that was obvious. I took in her toned but thin frame once more and concluded I could easily drink her under the table, and maybe even elicit some inebriated confessions.
“Any messages, Annabelle?” Lucy asked, out of nowhere. I hadn’t seen her approach. “Is there a problem, Lee?” She pinned her eyes on me, not a flicker of lust seeping through, and I felt something stir in my belly. 
“No,” I replied, meeting her glance with a straight face. “Don’t mind me.” I stalked off feeling more alive than I had in days. Office politics proved to be an excellent distraction from painful affairs of the heart.
The moment I sat down at my desk, my phone rang.
“I told you to leave it alone,” Lucy hissed. “Don’t stir up trouble.”
“I’m just being friendly, boss. Getting to know your PA a bit better.”
“Don’t make me punish you.” By then Lucy had already lost all authority over me.
“Maybe I want to be punished.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “How about a threesome with Annabelle?”
That shut me up. But I kept my date with Annabelle, anyway.

To be continued…

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Lucy and I flew to New York together and it felt like liberation, like breaking through a thick bubble of drama, like, at last, seeing everything from a new perspective. I decided that, for my psychological well-being, I needed to take more holidays. I watched her in action as she navigated effortlessly through this frantic city, as if she was made for it. I admired her guts and her fearlessness, her willingness to accept defeat but not without trying her best. By the time we got back to the real world, she had grown on me considerably. It was too early for love, but something was brewing.
“Can’t we move to New York?” I asked, in full fantasy mode. “You lived in the US before.”
“As happy as I would be to have you fly to the other end of the world with me, I came back for a reason.”
We were on our way from Heathrow to Kensington and already the now obvious dreariness of London was weighing me down.
“I’m an English girl, Lee. This is where I thrive.”
I was shocked to hear this. Apparently business-savvy and cultured didn’t mean cosmopolitan.
“I’m never happier than when the plane touches down on British soil again.”
Hearing her say that reminded me of my dad, who got homesick the mere second he crossed the village borders. “But you run Blogging The Globe?”
“As long as I have a return ticket, I’m happy to travel anywhere. If New York works out, we may be looking east next. Possibly Hong Kong.”
In the provincial mindset of the poorly travelled girl I was back then, it seemed like something ungraspable, something from another world.
“Looks like you’ll be raking in some serious air miles.”
“I don’t have to go everywhere myself. I plan to train people who can do the job independently.”
“Hey, here’s an idea.” I trailed my fingertips over the heel of her hand. “Why don’t you send Annabelle to Australia, or somewhere equally far away. I wouldn’t want her to be my boss, but she’d have the skills for it. She’d always know exactly what was going on in her office.”
“You really thinks she’s on to us?”
“Oh yeah.”
“You know I can’t fire her.”
“Who on the board is she sleeping with, anyway?”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
I nodded intently. Lucy had never been willing to share this juicy bit of information with me.
“Mrs Henderson.”
I didn’t see that one coming. “What?” I stammered. “But, isn’t she married to the CEO of—”
“Yes,” Lucy interrupted before I could identify him out loud. “Hence Annabelle’s power over Lynette Henderson and Blogging The Globe.”
“I’d never have guessed she was a lesbian. Not in a million years.”
“Trust me,” Lucy sighed, “she is.” 
“What are you trying to say?” I was getting quite agitated, puzzling all the missing pieces together. “Has she tried anything with you?”
“Well, no offence to Lynette, but she does have her best years behind her.”
“That’s why Annabelle has it in for me. She knows how you feel about me.”
“Don’t worry about her, as long as I’m in charge, she’s perfectly controllable.”
“Office politics are so exhaustingly dramatic.”
“It’s true what they say, you know. The world really does revolve around money, power and, most importantly, sex.”
“Have you ever said yes?” I asked before thinking, slightly lost in the craziness of the moment.
“God no, one office affair is more than complicated enough.”
“I can’t imagine she would be your type, anyway.”
“She’s an excellent assistant though. The lengths she goes to please me.”

To be continued…

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My hair still wet from the shower, and my self-worth considerably diminished, I knocked on Lucy’s door. The hardest part wouldn’t be the pretending, making her believe that we actually had a chance. It would be, once again, trying to find a way to live with my flaws. Lucy had such blind faith in me, just meeting her eyes and seeing the love spread through them made me feel like the biggest fraud alive. If there was one thing I had taken away from my twenties, it was that you didn’t mess with love. I made a promise there and then to treat Lucy’s love for me with the respect it deserved. No more revenge shags, certainly no cheating, and no false promises.
“There are no guarantees,” I said, “and I come with a lot of baggage.” I took in her crooked smile, the almost impossible breadth of her lips. “But I’m not just here to take things from you and wallow in the feelings you have for me. I will give back, or at least I’ll try my hardest.”
“I know I’m taking a chance on you, Lee. It’s a bit like taking in a wounded animal. I can only hope for the best.”
I didn’t really get how she could be so smitten and realistic at the same time. “I trust you, more than anyone in this world, not to break my heart.” I meant it more than was probably good for me.
“Would you like to go on a business trip slash holiday with me?”
“I think I would love that.” To get away from London and all it stood for, the heartbreak, the betrayal, the weakness of everyone including myself, sounded like paradise.
“It’s about time we began putting the globe in Blogging The Globe. We have big plans, starting with New York City.”
“Fabulous. I’ll carry your suitcases wherever you want to go.”
“Oh no, I have something far better in mind.” She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor. When she kissed me I knew that, when given the chance, she could save me.

“Are you going anywhere fancy?” Annabelle asked, a fake smile glued on her face.
“What?” I decided it would be best to play dumb.
“Since you’ve taken all of next week off, I just presumed you’d be going away.”
“Just visiting my parents,” I lied. “All very dull.” I kept my eyes on my screen, trying to make her feel as if she was interrupting some serious journalism.
“Lucy’s going to New York, you know. Talk about branching out.”
She couldn’t possibly know already, could she? It was only Friday and both Lucy and I had been very careful. Maybe too careful?
“The break should do her good, though. I think she and Joan may have split up. She asked me to hold all her calls. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Why would I, Annabelle?” She was starting to get under my skin.
“It’s just that I could have sworn I spotted you and Joan talking at the Starbucks down the road last Monday.” 
A nervous rash of heat swarmed through me. Was it a coincidence or had she learnt to read Lucy that well? Or worse, was she following me?
“That must have been a case of mistaken identity.” I tried to keep my cool. “I never go to Starbucks.” I shot her a curt smile. “And I haven’t seen Joan in ages.”
“Oh, my bad.” Her voice shot all the way up, letting me know that she was on to something.

To be continued…

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