The Butler did it

PART FOUR ...Mind that desk! (all will be revealed in the next part.)

You don’t really expect to hear from the guy again. He probably regrets ever meeting you. So you try to put him out of your mind, at least during work hours. You put the mobile number into your phone after finding it crumpled into your jeans pocket (yes, they’d been through the wash. Yes, you spent twenty minutes deciphering the numbers. No, of course that's not slightly sad) and find yourself staring longingly at it, with your finger hovering over the ‘call’ button.
Of course, you don’t phone him. He probably forgot about you, he’s a busy guy. An incredibly hot busy guy. Probably already taken, the kiss was just a mistake.
And yet a part of you screams, Why isn’t he calling ME?
Tuesday, four days AG (After Gerry). You’re at work, trying as usual to concentrate on the immense piles of paperwork you’re supposed to be filing, and once again failing miserably.
However, the view outside the window seems pretty good. A tree, some flowers and a dog sniffing a car. Gerard holding a bouquet. A young couple-
Huh? Rewind.
Gerard is walking through the gates of the office car park uncertainly, seemingly checking a piece of paper in his hand with the huge neon sign above the door of the building. He frowns and peers up at the huge office with what you assume is increasing dread and shifts the huge bouquet of roses to the other arm. He’s looking good. Jeans, boots, tight white T-shirt. Straight out of a Pepsi advert.

You watch in amazement as he disappears into the front entrance of your workplace, gaping out of the window long after he’s gone from your view.
You feel your heart start to race, thudding madly in your chest at the thought of him being so close.
You’re acting like a silly schoolgirl, you chastise. The flowers are either for someone else, or to say sorry for ‘taking advantage’ of you...A tentative knock on your door makes you snap out of your gloomy thoughts.
You turn in the swivel chair. “Come in.”
Gerard pushes the door and stands uncomfortably in the hall, grinning briefly when he realises it’s you. He scans the office before turning his gaze back to you.
You motion for him to enter, standing up as he does, and fight to slow your heart to a more sensible level.
“Hi, Gerry,” you smile painfully, waiting for the disappointment.
“Why didn’t you call?” he blurts out suddenly, an almost comical expression of surprise as it leaves his mouth immediately replaced by a hurt bewilderment.
Your jaw drops. “Huh?”
“You never phoned me. If you didn’t want to see me you could have just-
You raise a hand to stop him. “You could have called me as well. I’ve been panicking for four days because you didn’t ring.”
It’s his turn to gape (man, he looks cute when he's confused...)
“You mean, you did want to see me?”
You sigh and raise an eyebrow, finally winning the battle for control over your body and the situation.
“Oh. Right then.” He hands you the roses awkwardly. “D’you like them?”
“They’re beautiful,” you breathe, sniffing them in awe. “Thank you.” You’ve never even SEEN that many roses, let alone owned them.
He grins happily. “Oh, good. Are you busy?”
“Well, actually, yes,” you admit uneasily. “I’ve got all this to do...” you gesture expansively to the papers scattered around you.
His face drops. “Okay then.”
He turns to leave.
“Wait. You could...stay...if you wouldn’t be too bored?”
“Alright,” he agrees, plonking himself onto a chair beside you and watching as you settle down again to do the work.
A few minutes pass, and you feel a warm pressure against your back as his arms slide around your waist. He nuzzles his face into your neck and growls softly. “Bored now...” he purrs.