I look up to see Rowan standing over me, peering down into the toilet.
‘Do you mind?’ I say. ‘Can I have some privacy please?’
Rowan takes a few steps back and sits down on the edge of the bath.
‘Sorry,’ he says, holding his hands up to signal his retreat.
I’m relieved to report that he’s wearing boxer shorts. And now that I’ve finished throwing up I can see that I’ve got my underwear on. This whole scene would have been a lot more embarrassing if we were naked – especially me.
I finally take in the room – it’s massive.
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘This is areallynice bathroom.’
‘It’s not bad, is it?’ he replies modestly.
It’s not just nice, it’s amazing. Like something out of a catalogue. It’s a huge room, not just for a bathroom, but generally. From the marble tiles to the huge shower to the massive freestanding bath. It’s only now that I’m noticing how fancy it is that I’ve realised the floor is heated too – thank God, I was worried something terrible had happened while I was throwing up. Now that I mention it, it would be great if he left the room, so that I can pee, but I can’t bring myself to stand up.
I reach for a towel, yanking one off the towel rail, which is also heated. I wrap it around myself and lie down on the floor. It feels so good.
‘I just need a minute,’ I tell him.
Rowan laughs.
‘This isn’t funny,’ I say.
‘It’s a little bit funny,’ he replies through a cheeky smile.
Last night – as best I can remember – I thought he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in real life. Today his good looks annoy me. That dirty blonde hair that looks perfect, even though he’s just got out of bed, and those dimpled cheeks that make him look like he’s up to something – ergh. Last night he was a dream but today I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare. Well, look at me, lying on his bathroom floor, throwing up in his toilet. And my memory of last night may be hazy but I’m pretty sure he’s my new boss, so I may as well kiss my job goodbye.
I close my eyes. I’m not opening them until he’s gone.
‘Can I use your shower, please?’ I ask.
‘Sure,’ he replies. ‘You’ve found the towels already, so you’re halfway there. Go for it. I’ll meet you in the kitchen – I’ll be putting the coffee on. You seem like you need it.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply, although what I actually need is to go home, immediately fire-up LinkedIn, and start peddling the old ‘I just feel like it’s time for a new challenge’ line.
Rowan leaves me to it, closing the door behind him. A second after he does so the lighting changes to something much dimmer. Such a soft, warm relaxing glow. All bathrooms need lighting options – I’m officially sold on it now. The only option I have in my bathroom is to have the lights on or off.
I want to get up, get in the shower, and get out of here more than anything, but I’m just so warm and cosy on this floor. How can lying on tile feel so nice? It’s like the heat creates this padded effect, making the hard floor seem soft.
I close my eyes. Just for a second. I’ll just lie here for a minute, tops, and…
Shit! I fell asleep. How long was I asleep? It honestly could have been seconds, minutes or hours – I have no idea. That said, I’m sure if it had been hours, Rowan probably would have nipped back upstairs to make sure his grossest employee hadn’t died on his lovely bathroom floor.
I pull myself to my feet and head for the shower cubicle. It seems silly, calling it a cubicle, when it’s more like a room of its own. And, oh my God, it has a seat. I’ve never been so happy to see a seat in a shower. Again, something else I’d like to take away from this ordeal with me – sitting in the shower. Of course, I can’t afford a shower room like this, so the best I can probably do is stick a garden chair in my bath, under the showerhead. But, you know what? I’ll make it work.
The water pours down on me from the large shower head, like my own personal raincloud, but with such soothing warm water – and I swear it’s giving me a massage. Can a fancy shower do that or am I still a bit drunk? I’m not really a very good drinker.
I’m just going to enjoy this shower while I can, get dressed and get out of here – I don’t care if the coffee machine is as epic as the shower, this whole thing has been a big mistake.
The events of last night are a blur. Somethings I remember, then there are all these gaps, but I’m sure it’s safe to say that the things I do remember are embarrassing and the things I don’t remember… well, it’s probably for the best that I don’t remember those.
At least now I know why I don’t ever do things like this, I suppose. It’s because I’m so, so painfully bad at them.
Chapter Three
The best way I’ve found to get myself through the last few months of the year has been by telling myself one thing: next yearhasto be better than this year.
