The Friendship Barrier

‘Like this, for instance,’ Annette pounced triumphantly, flourishing a magazine she had been reading. ‘We’ve still got a couple of hours before the shops close. All the new season’s stock should be in by now, and don’t tell me you can’t afford it… with the salary I suspect Jake pays you…’

Stephanie wasn’t listening. She was staring transfixed at the photograph Annette was holding out to her. Numbly, she read the caption, ‘Susy Waldron, modelling the new Galman autumn range at the home of wealthy Florida businessman, Dale Mather. Another house guest was Susy’s escort, Jake Lorrimer. When asked about their romance, Susy refused to comment, but the couple were seen strolling arm in arm through Dale Mather’s justifiably famous gardens almost every evening of their visit.’

‘Stephanie, what’s wrong with you?’ Annette demanded. ‘What do you think of the dress? I can just see you in it.’

The dress in question was in soft, black angora, cut on deceptively demure lines, but Stephanie paid it scant attention. Jake and Susy together. Was that why he had kissed her? Because he and Susy were apart… because he knew that Susy did not like her. Jake was a man in whom the sensual currents ran strong and deep, and if she hadn’t known it before, she knew it now. Deep enough for him to sacrifice their friendship to his desire for Susy? Had Susy perhaps demanded as the price of her love, Stephanie’s own eviction from Jake’s personal life?

They were questions that Stephanie could not answer. She felt as though life had suddenly cast her adrift on unfamiliar and treacherous waters with nothing to cling to for support.

More to keep her mind occupied with other thoughts than for any other reason, she allowed Annette to persuade her to go shopping. They visited the exclusive Knightsbridge store that stocked the clothes featured in the magazine and at Annette’s insistence Stephanie tried on the black angora dress.

‘Stunning,’ was her verdict once it was on. ‘It looks even better on you than it did on the model. The colour brings out the red lights in your hair,’ she said critically. ‘Black suits you. And what about this?’ she brandished a glove-soft leather skirt in a softly muted olive-cum-khaki colour with a toning mohair jumper.

Stephanie stared at her, aghast. ‘Annette, I never wear anything like that,’ she told her distastefully, ‘Leather…’

‘Leather skirts are “in” this year,’ Annette argued firmly. ‘Try it on, at least. This jumper is gorgeous. If we weren’t saving so hard to get married, I might indulge in one myself.’

The jumper was lovely, Stephanie admitted when she had it on. The soft mohair caressed her skin with a sensuous warmth that made her unexpectedly aware of her own body, and, for a few seconds, she wasn’t sure if she liked the sensation. Appreciation of her own sensuality wasn’t something she was familiar with—that side of her nature had been suppressed, partially during her teens when she had only had her grandmother as an example, and then completely following the attack, when she had developed a morbid fear of anyone reading any hint of sexual compliance in her attitude. The satin-winged dragon motif appliqued to the front of the sweater felt unfamiliar beneath her finger tips and she had a sudden and very disturbing notion that Jake’s skin would feel very much the same. Smooth, yet strong. She snatched her fingers away from the satin as though they had been stung, blushing in the privacy of her changing room at the intimacy of her thoughts. What was happening to her? She had never even thought about touching Jake before, even in the most casual of fashions, never mind imagining his nude body, and yet, now… It must be the small enclosed space she was in that was making her feel so hot, she decided, quickly unfastening the studded side fastening of the leather skirt.

Perhaps it was because she was trying to come to terms with her unfamiliar feelings that she allowed Annette to persuade her into buying not only the leather skirt and the sweater, but also a matching silk shirt and the black angora dress, plus an evening suit cut to reveal the soft curves of her body, with a tiny, nipped-in waist and a low, revealing back, although when she was going to wear such a potentially provocative garment she wasn’t quite sure. Even the colour—a rich sapphire blue—wasn’t one she would normally have chosen.

‘You’ll wear it when you go out on these business dinners with Jake, of course,’ Annette chastised her when she voiced her doubts as they headed for the escalator. ‘Come on,’ she added. ‘I’m really getting into the swing of this fairy godmother thing now. I’m not letting you go back to the flat until you’ve bought some new underwear and you’ll need new shoes…’

‘Underwear? But…’

‘You’ll need something to wear under that suit,’ Annette reminded her. ‘It’s practically backless, remember—unless, of course, you’re planning to dispense with your bra?’

There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes as she added this last. Although slightly above medium height with a narrow waist and slender hips, Stephanie had very rounded and full breasts—a fact which she abhorred and did all she could to disguise, always wearing formal blouses and neat jackets.

‘What on earth are you looking like that for?’ Annette grinned. ‘What I’d give to swop my 32A for your 34C! You don’t know how lucky you are. Pity slinky sweaters aren’t in fashion this year. I’d just love to see your Jake’s face if you turned up at the office in one.’ She laughed again at Stephanie’s expression, and took advantage of her momentary lack of concentration to herd her into the lingerie department.

As before, Annette took charge before Stephanie could open her mouth, quickly explaining what was needed.

‘How about this?’ A soft pale grey silk satin camiknicker with a very low-cut back was produced for their inspection.

‘Oh, it’s mouthwatering, Steph, isn’t it?’ Annette drooled. ‘And just look at this!’ She held up the garment so that Stephanie could see the delicate lacy panels that comprised the top of the camiknicker. ‘Go and try it on,’ she urged. ‘Take the suit with you to make sure the back’s low enough.’ The suit was produced for the saleslady’s inspection, who agreed that the stock of low-backed bras they had in would not be low enough to wear under it, and, as Stephanie walked past her, Annette murmured wickedly, ‘You’re going to cause quite a stir the next time you go to an official dinner with your boss. I can’t see much business getting done—the men will be too busy wondering whether you are or aren’t and if you, are, what—it would send their temperatures rocketing if they ever found out,’ she added mischievously.

The camiknickers fitted perfectly, the delicate lace cups moulding the full curves of her breasts so that her skin glowed mother of pearl through them, her nipples a deep rosy pink. The sensation of the lace and satin so close to her skin was infinitely disturbing. The garment was far too erotic for her simple tastes, Stephanie decided, but it did fit very neatly and discreetly beneath her new suit, and, in the end, she allowed Annette to badger her into buying it.

On the way home, Annette oozed self-satisfaction. ‘I’ve been dying to get you out of all those dull correct clothes you favour for months,’ she admitted cheerfully, as they prepared their evening meal, ‘and those camiknickers!’ She rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘Personally, I’ve always been something of an underwear freak—nothing gaudy, or openly sexy; it’s just that I adore the sensation of silks and satins next to my skin. It makes me feel good, and yet rather naughty at the same time, if you know what I mean. It’s my only extravagance that Roger approves of.’ She spluttered with laughter when she saw Stephanie’s expression, shaking her head a little over her reserve, and Stephanie wondered a little bleakly if Susy Waldron wore silks and satins next to her skin and if Jake enjoyed touching them before he touched her.

It was alarming and extremely disturbing to find she had come so far down a road she hadn’t even been aware of setting out on. Somehow her life had taken an unexpected turning, and she wasn’t sure yet herself just what it was leading to; all she did know was that she feared the changes heralded, and that if she could she would have gone back to the security of a friendship with Jake which had no overtones of sexuality. How had they come to be there in the first place? It was a question she just couldn’t answer.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN Stephanie went back to work on Monday morning she admitted to a butterfly feeling of trepidation. All weekend she had kept remembering the scene at Jake’s apartment—the way he had spoken to her. And the way he had kissed her, she forced herself to acknowledge.

A quick flick through her diary—an almost automatic first-thing job once she had taken off her coat—showed her that Jake had an early dental appointment. She grimaced faintly as she checked through the mail, sorting it into neat piles. Jake hated visiting the dentist, and his mood was likely to be none too good when he did arrive.

She had dealt efficiently with what she could of the post, dealt with several phone calls, including one from a would-be house seller who wanted Jake to go round to value what sounded to be an extremely promising Thames-side property, and was sitting neatly in front of her typewriter, sipping a cup of coffee, when Jake finally arrived. One side of his jaw was faintly swollen, his eyes a dark and threateningly stormy grey. He flung down his Burberry with a lack of his normal precision, his frown deepening as his glance swept over Stephanie’s calm face and neatly clad body.

What was he looking for, she wondered, hanging grimly on to the calm smile she had been practising all weekend as his scrutiny raked her, as potentially dangerous as a sharply honed razor. Even allowing for the dental visit, there was something about him this morning that sparked warning signals in her own defence system. She had been right to dread this meeting. Subtly, unbearably to her mind, and possibly irretrievably, things had changed between them.

‘Messages?’ Jake flung the demand at her as he walked through into his own office. Normally, his abrupt manner didn’t bother her but, for some reason, this morning she found herself flushing angrily, not so much at the curtness of his voice but at the way his eyes lingered for that extra half a second on the soft swell of her breasts before he strode past her. Never once in the past had Jake ever, by so much as a glance, indicated any sexual awareness of her, but this morning… The buzzer on her desk distracted her and she picked up the phone.

The buzz had signalled that it was an internal call and, as she listened to one of the other partners requesting an urgent meeting with Jake, Stephanie tred to dismiss from her mind her turbulent feelings.

The urgent meeting kept him out of the office until Stephanie was about to go for lunch. He returned just as she was putting her coat on, and indicated imperiously that he wanted her to wait.

The door between their two offices was half open and, as she was waiting, Stephanie heard him pick up his own phone and punch a series of numbers into it.

Seconds later her whole body seemed to be seized in a painful paralysis as she heard him drawl, ‘Susy? About tonight, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make it.’

Becoming aware that she was eavesdropping on his private conversation Stephanie moved disjointedly towards her own desk. Susy? Why did his relationship with Susy Waldron upset her so?

‘Sorry about that,’ his phone call finished, Jake walked back into her office. ‘I’ve got to go out and see that new property this afternoon and I want you to come with me. It sounds promising. Can you manage with half an hour for lunch?’

It wasn’t the first time Jake had made such a request. Normally, when they were busy, she would go out and buy them both sandwiches for lunch and they would work companionably, side by side, while they ate, but today, for some reason, she hesitated to suggest this.

‘Calm, serene Stephanie,’ Jake drawled, when she nodded an affirmative. ‘You like the world to think nothing can penetrate through the wall, don’t you? You’ve got “don’t trespass” signs posted all round your personal space, feet high, but we both know that…’

Another moment, and he would be talking about Friday evening, and that was something she just couldn’t endure. ‘I’m on my lunch hour, Jake,’ she interrupted evenly. ‘Half an hour, I think you said. I’d better go…’

‘Flight, not fight, is that it, Steph?’ he jeered, as she turned away. ‘What is it you’re so frightened of?’

Losing your friendship, she could have said; being alone without you, but the words were far too painful to be voiced, and, instead, she simply walked out of the office before he saw that she was trembling—Jake had very sharp eyes and extremely acute perceptions. She had known him to be brusque and even sarcastic at times before; she had never known this cutting, deliberate intention to hurt and she was at a loss to understand the reason for it.

She was back from lunch exactly on the dot. She could hear sounds of movement from Jake’s office and tapped briefly on the door before going in. Jake was standing with his back to her staring out of his window. He had removed the jacket of his suit and the fine cotton shirt he was wearing clung to the taut muscles of his back. What was the matter with her, Stephanie asked herself in distraught dismay? She had seen Jake without his jacket on countless thousands of occasions in the past—she had even once arrived at his flat and found him still only half dressed, and yet she could never remember once reacting as she was reacting now. All her stomach muscles seemed to have clenched in a tight spasm and refused to unlock. Her body shook and her skin felt hot. She wanted to reach out and trace the clean line of his spine to… He swung round, catching her off guard, and she quickly veiled her eyes, looking distractedly at the papers on his desk.

‘Something wrong?’

Even without looking at him, she could sense his quick frown. It took an almost superhuman effort of will to sound casual as she murmured, ‘No… no, I’m fine. What time did you want to leave?’ Her voice was a husky, unfamiliar whisper edged with a strain she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

It was only as she followed Jake down to the car park that she realised what was happening. Almost for the first time in their friendship she was lying to him, hiding her feelings from him, and she could barely understand her own reactions. All she could do was accept that they were necessitated by his attitude towards her; part of a complex and sensitive feminine defence mechanism she had hitherto never needed to use with Jake.

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