“Can I take Wednesday off?” Lucy’s head rested heavy on my shoulder, her hair tickling my lips. We lay in my bed and what better time to ask her than in the mellow aftermath of sex.
“I suppose. You know I’m not difficult about things like that. You can arrange your own schedule as long−”
“−as you turn the copy in on time.” Sometimes I got the two versions of Lucy mixed up in my head. She was a fair boss but it was, at times, hard to see through the thick mist of drama surrounding our twisted friendship − for lack of a better word.
“Thanks, boss.” She didn’t press for more information. She just rolled on her side, her back towards me, and fell asleep. Maybe she had figured me out. If Lucy was about to play hard to get, I would be in trouble.

I let the night tick-tock away. I could twist and turn all I wanted, I knew sleep would not come. Two days of work and then… and then what? What would it be like to see Sarah again? What would I say? I perched myself up against the pillow and let my eyes glide over Lucy who lay on her back now, her body half exposed. Physically, she couldn’t be more different from Sarah. Her skin was so white and freckled, it didn’t stand a chance against Sarah’s exotic complexion. This time, it had been more weakness on my part than on hers that had landed us in bed together. Then again, it always was. What would I do with Lucy? Nothing I had ever done to her was fair, yet she kept coming back for more. Was I her Claire? I ran a hand through her short dirty-blond hair. Tomorrow she would be all boss-like again, dressed in labels and high heels but for now she could just be naked and vulnerable under my sheets. I slid down the pillow and snuggled up to her, craving the warmth of her skin. She turned on her side, her face nearly touching mine, and, still out of it, wrapped an arm around me. This is how lovers sleep, I thought. Girlfriends and partners snooze in each other’s arms. I couldn’t do that with Lucy. I gently crept out from under her embrace and thought of Sarah. For two days I would have a one-track mind. There would be no room for Lucy or Claire. Or Vivian.

When I woke up to the blaring, depressing sound of my alarm clock Lucy was gone. I was alone in my room and it didn’t feel right. The morning sun smuggled some rays through the cracks in the curtains. I listened for the drum of the shower but the house was quiet. Lucy never left like that, like a thief in the night − that was my move. Half-asleep and with a disproportionate sense of dread rumbling through my chest, I went through the motions of the morning. I arrived at work just in time for the staff meeting, in which Lucy totally ignored me. What did I do now, except make her come last night? This was exactly why I had trouble seeing her for the otherwise fair boss that she was. After the meeting she didn’t ask to see me, she just walked out of the room and pretended I didn’t exist.
“It’s only Monday morning and you’ve already rubbed her up the wrong way. Well done, Lee,” Millie said. She would never join the Lucy Rowe fan club. She would never speak to me again if she knew what was really going on either.
“I’m innocent,” I said, “but I’d better go see what it is she thinks I’ve done this time.”

To be continued…