Part 27- in which I spill SOME of the beans....

I know, it's been ages since we last spoke, and I bet you've been dying to find out what happened that night with my swoonsome hero Donal Dashwood?

The truth is I've been so embarrassed I could barely show my face in public since the night in question, never mind talk about what happened. It would appear this nightmare life of mine will insist in continuing....

...oh well. It's been a couple of weeks now, so here goes:

I was of course dolled up to the nines-high-lights done, bright red dress, platform stillettos-perhaps a touch over-done for drinks with the boss, but this was a special occasion. We met in a wine and tapas bar on the outskirts of town. It was dark and cosy, only lit by candle light, with slow Spanish guitar music playing unobtrusively in the background.

Perfect! I thought, as I walked in. It was exactly what I had envisaged during my many imaginings of this evening!

Donal was already seated in a secluded corner table, a bottle of red wine uncorked and two glasses waiting to be filled. He was studying the tapas menu before he saw me, but once he set eyes on me he stood and greeted me with a kiss (lingering longer on my lips than would be considered appropriate for a boss and his employee I couldn't help thinking with absolute glee) and then like a true movie gent he pulled out a chair for me before pouring me a glass of the wine.

I was glad I had gone with the red dress-how very Spanish of me?

So anyway, we chatted for a while as the waitress hovered about us hoping we were going to order food. I think it must have been the first time in my life that I was so interested in the company I was in that studying the menu wasn't top of my agenda! Wonderful! I thought. Maybe falling for Donal would help me lose weight too! Though diet and exercise I secretly hoped! Wink wink!

The conversation was mainly about work obviously, but I could tell he was leading to more personal stuff. He would want to know if I was single, and free to be with him, without a doubt. But after about an hour of comfortable chat we were interrupted by the hovering waitress who wanted to know (for the third time) if we were ready to order food -and did we want another bottle of wine seeing as the first one was now empty?

That was when I began to think that our romantic date/meeting might not go as romantically as I had been hoping it would;

Donal said "I suppose we'd better just go ahead and order. Nigel must be running later than expected. I'm sure he won't mind if we start without him. Besides, we'll be pissed if we drink anymore wine without eating something. What do you fancy Ruby"?

I think my mouth may have opened and closed in a goldfish stylee for several seconds. Was I drunk already? Did he say something about Nigel?

"Did you say Nigel is running late"? I enquired, praying deep inside that the answer would be a resounding 'NO'.

"Well yes Ruby. He's an hour late", Donal looked around him as if to say "Well he ain't here is he"? Like I was meant to have missed him already. I felt like a daft blonde.

I muttered something about not realising Nigel was coming along tonight too and Donal began to explain (as if to a three year old) that of course Nigel was coming along, after all, he would be heading up the team I was now a part of and as of Monday (when Donal would be gone) I would be working as Nigel's right-hand woman.

Oh bring on the deep fried squid and kill me now!

We were just placing our tapas order (enough for three) when the slimy greasy one arrived and squished into our tight corner next to me. He had obviously been running because sweat was dripping from his forehead and had stained the armpits of his shirt I noticed as he removed his jacket. My appetite left me.

Once again (I was beginning to grow accustomed to the feeling) my heart dropped clean out of my chest cavity and hit the floor with a thud. I sensed my evening of romance and seduction may now take an unwanted turn.

Thankfully the second bottle of wine was quickly dispatched to our table.

The food arrived. We ate. Nigel pressed his damp body as close to me as was humanely possible without the act of love-making. I held for dear life onto my spicy meatballs and octopus rings.

Stay calm, I told myself inwardly, nothing to worry about. We'll all leave soon and Nigel will take one taxi while Donal and I will take another. Together. And we'll go back to his.

Nigel ordered a third bottle of wine. To make up for arriving so late. I remember thinking "Oh, what the hell! Wine is wine".

It was about half way through this bottle that Donal announced he had to leave. I felt panic rise within me and I immediately sobered up.

"I'd better go too", I announced, leaping to my feet and attempting to drag my coat from underneath Nigel.
I was sure this was how Donal had planned it, so that we could leave together.

But he was putting on a good show, obviously for Nigels sake, so he wouldn't catch on to our plan.

"No no Ruby. The night is young. You stay here and help Nige finish the wine. I hate to be a party pooper but I have an early start driving home in the morning and I need my beauty sleep".

Nigel nodded along and filled my glass up. Again panic.

Okay, if he was talking me out of going surely that meant I was supposed to make him stay.

"Tomorrow's Saturday" I said. "Why do you need to leave so early? Stay for another and treat yourself to a lie in". I'm not totally sure but I may have winked at that point.

His reply?

"Sorry Ruby but I really have to get on the road in good time. It's my daughters birthday and my wife will kill me if I miss her party. Especially after being away from home for so long".

And once again guess what happened to my heart?

Married? But he hadn't told me he was married! All that time we'd spent together and he hadn't even mentioned a wife...or a daughter! But then, I guess, why would he? After all, we were only working together. And he was my boss!

So Donal left after thanking me for all of my hard work and wishing me lots of luck in my new position. I returned, with immediate effect, to the feeling of devastation from which he had rescued me for two whole weeks. Nigel smiled and topped up my glass....

What happened then? I'm still not ready to talk. But when I am, you guys will definately be the first to know....

Part 26-It can't be good for the heart...?

Wednesday night: dinner with Mark. Went well. Polite, adult, civilised.

Tonight: drinks with Donal Dashwood. The plan? Wild. Animal. Lust.

So Wednesday was better than I had expected. Mark and I talked. Properly.

Before I arrived I was nervous, of course, I didn't know how I would feel when I set eyes on him again.
Yes, my mind has been occupied with lusty thought's of the debonair Mr. Dashwood of late, but I suspected there might be a strong tug on the old heart strings once I saw my beloved husband again. And I was right.

As I walked into the restaurant where we had arranged to meet my ticker was getting the work-out of it's life and as I approached our table and spotted the oh-so familiar back of his head I thought I'd had it, that my heart would finally cave under the pressure and stop beating all together. It was a mixture of nerves at how the evening might proceed, and the thrill of seeing him again, of being in his company after missing him for so long.

When he saw me he smiled so warmly that for a moment it all felt unbelievably familiar and I almost forgot he didn't love me anymore. When I remembered, I felt my by-now fragile heart snap into pieces all over again.

But I was determined not to show him any emotion tonight. Not to give away any hint that I still loved him or wished he would change his mind and come back to me. Instead I had a plan.

I was promoting (only prematurely, I'm pretty certain) Donal Dashwood to new love interest for the evening. Mark was going to discover that he wasn't the only fast mover around here!

So we began pleasantly; how had we been, how was work, wasn't christmas coming around fast yet again this year?
Then we moved onto the more important stuff like me buying Mark out of the house, our solicitors details, facts and figures, that kind of thing. It was at that point that Mark seemed to me to get quite unusually emotional. He said he missed the house, talked about all the memories we had there, indicated that he regretted having to leave it.

It made me so angry! How dare he miss our house-a building!-and (apparently) not miss me. I was furious but fought hard to keep my annoyance under wraps. Instead I politely asked how things were going with Kate (It nearly killed me to say her name without spitting afterwards!) and without really waiting for an answer (could he be stupid enough to think I actually wanted to hear it?) I began to tell him how I'd met this new guy at work and that we were currently seeing each other.

"Well, I don't know if I want to use the word 'seeing'", I said, quite jovially, I thought. "I'm kind of avoiding anything serious right now, although I know he's really into me. I'm just enjoying the sex"!

Mark's face was a picture! Whatever he had been going to tell me about the 'wonderful' Kate must have stuck in his throat because he remained speechless for several minutes as I described in detail my sordid affair with my gorgeous new boss, our stolen moments in the stationary cupboard and long lunches spent in nearby hotels!

It felt good to be the one with the upper hand for once and it was obvious that Mark was uncomfortable with me 'dating' again. Was that a touch of jealousy I felt exuding from his every pore? Ha!

As we were leaving Mark walked me to a taxi and for a moment I thought he might kiss me. Surprisingly after all my talk about Donal (I think I had begun to believe my stories too!) I did still find myself wanting him to. But of course he didn't.
Instead he told me he was glad things were going so well for me and smiled as if he meant it. I couldn't help feeling deflated.
But then, as I bundled myself into the backseat of the first car to arrive and waved goodbye to my husband, Mark turned and shouted over the noise of the ravving engine that we should probably meet up again soon, and my poor, worn out heart did another fragile little leap in my chest!

Am I right to sense a glimmer of hope, however feignt it may be? Do I even care anymore?

So, drinks tonight with Donal. He wants to thank me for all the hard work I've put in this week! Little does he know it hasn't been like work for me at all! It's our final day together so tonight is make or break for my dreams of making my fantasy man my reality man...

So, will I be able to make the stories I told Mark come true? I'll keep you posted...

Part 25-in which I forget Mark's name....

Okay, so the sexy Mr. Dashwood hasn't exactly made a move yet. But there is definite movement on the way, if you know what I mean.

And I cannot believe how much I really, really want him to!

We have been working so closely for over a week now that he is becoming all I think about. And here's the proof: Mark is coming over tonight for dinner (we have decided to keep things as civilized as possible for the sake of the, well, er, just for the sake of it I guess) and I have barely given the meeting a second thought since we arranged it over the weekend. We are going to sort out the house and bills and bank accounts etc,- all the really boring stuff that comes as part of the heart-break of separation,-and though I am obviously not looking forward to doing it, I feel like I can actually start to move on once we have these things organised.

But as I was saying, it would appear that the dashing Donal has entered my life at exactly the right time because his sexiness has taken my mind off Mark and is getting me through what I'm certain would otherwise be a terribly tough time.

He's so suave! A real movie hunk! You know the type-leading man material who only has to strut across a room to make all the girls swoon!
And swoon I do. Every time he arrives for our 'sessions' I can't take my eyes off him from the second he enters the room. He seems to have this powerful presence, I'd say women follow him with their eyes where ever he goes, and it's not because he wears Linx I can tell you!

When we sit close I am so aware of the heat from him and I can't stop myself imagining our bodies touching, even though they never do. Well, we have to keep everything professional don't we? He always smells gorgeous and is perfectly groomed. I did consider the idea that he might be gay for a short time but the way he looks at me (I've caught him snatching quick glances at my legs when I'm wearing a skirt) tells me that's just not possible. So it's all to play for!

Yesterday, he was explaining our new budgeting procedure and he leaned over my shoulder to point out notes on a document I had in front of me. His cheek was so close to my own I could feel his breathe and I had to physically stop myself from turning and kissing him! Oh, the temptation! This is so not like me, I just can't believe how I'm feeling. But whatever it is, I swear he was feeling it too and it hung in the air between us like some unspoken thought that neither of us was brave enough to say out loud.

So four days left before the training is over. Four days to make a move, to lure him into to stationary cupboard and seduce him! Have I got the bottle? Will he go for it, or tell me where to go? Will I get the sack if I do??? Who knows....

Oh, and then there's that dinner with my husband tonight. Now what was his name again....?

Part 24-in which tension builds....

Since I spend quite a large proportion of my time presently looking back at my marriage and analysing my reletionship with Mark I have come to the conclusion that it would be fair to say there was never a lot of sexual tension between us. In fact, in the last twelve months we were togther it would be more accurate to say that there wasn't much sexual anything at all, probably because we had grown so 'accustomed' to one another that I think we had just forgotten we were once marginally attracted to each other, and not just 'doing it' because we were there. If you see what I mean?

Of course, now I know that during that final year, Mark was busy 'getting it on' with someone else, so that would obviously explain quite a lot. But to be honest he was never really the kind of bloke who got steamy in the bedroom (not with me at least) and I just sort of went along with it, never expected anything more of him, 'couldn't miss what I had never had', sort of thing. It seemed to suit us both fine.

Until yesteday, that is, and I realised what I must have been missing all along!

I arrived at work to begin my training sessions as arranged and was formally introduced to one of my new bosses, Mr. Dashwood-Donal Dashwood-the good-looker from my interview. Still as hot as ever I was pleased to note.

Donal Dashwood can only be described as text book handsome and is truly in possession of the usual cliches like a twinkle in his eye and a cheeky grin. Possibly a few years older than me, and with bags of confidence, he also has a hint of an Irish lilt to his deep, whiskey-soaked voice, into which I felt myself melting as soon as he said "Hello".

During training I found myself blushing like a school-girl each time he spoke to me, even when he was saying something as innocuous as 'Fiscal Policy' or 'Base Rates'. I swear I didn't take in a thing we covered during the whole day, but each time he reached out to hand me a document my body went into a spasm of sexual awareness! A new feeling indeed, and one that I wasn't sure I should be experiencing so soon after my marriage had ended. We hadn't even begun divorce proceedings yet!

And I was certain Donal was flirting with me! He kept saying things like, "A pretty lady like yourself" or " I'm going to enjoy working very closely with you Ruby", in his deep brogue, which was the equivalent of massaging with the voice, and I couldn't be sure that I wasn't flirting back with him, my head was in such a spin!
But surely this was a trap to have me sacked?
By mid-morning I had decided this must definatley be a deliberate ploy! The powers that be had realised  their mistake in promoting me and were using our handsome Mr. Dashwood here to get rid of their little mistake. He could flirt with me all he liked, but the minute I responded by flirting back at him, that was it! I would be sacked! For insubordination or some-such offence. I wouldn't fall for that! Ha! Not me, too clever. I would keep my mouth shut and say NOTHING! I couldn't get the sack for saying nothing, could I?

When he suggested we break and take lunch together my resolve weakened on the spot. How could I say no? We chatted constantly for the two and a half hours we were out! He was great company, funny, clever, attentive-everything Mark had long since stopped being, I couldn't help but think. Then, just as we were getting ready to head back to work I felt his hand brush my knee under the table and I was almost certain that it wasn't an accident. Woah! I wasn't sure what to make of that. Not that I didn't like it of course, but something told me that it wasn't totally right, that perhaps he shouldn't be doing that.

And then I though "Ah, what the hell. He's too gorgeous to be offended by"!

The rest of the day went by in a haze of this newly discovered sexual tension too obvious not to be obvious! And last night when I went home I couldn't stop thinking about him! For the first time in ages thoughts of Mark didn't even enter my head-and it was lovely! Sweet dreams for the first time in a long time.

Today has been the same, all deep, meaningful breathing and secret glances, like a Jane Austin novel! The whole thing has me in quite a fluster! I can't help but wonder how long it might be before he makes his move....

Part 23-where I can see light on the horizon...

Although it has been a tough few days, at last there seems to be a bit of sunshine on the distant horizon-only the tiniest speck of a ray though, not like a full-on beautiful day in the Carribbean or anything!

The tiny beam of light is this: I have been offered the promotion!

Nigel called me into his den of iniquity (his office) earlier this morning to personally offer me the position of group leader (I got the distinct impression however, that this wasn't the only position he was hoping to put my way) and after managing to totally convince myself that I hadn't a cat in hell's chance of getting the job, I was so over-joyed that I almost leapt out of my chair and kissed him. Almost.

I probably should have played the game, taken some time to consider my answer to avoid looking too keen, even held out for more moolah perhaps. But I was so desperate to get the damn job and sooooo shocked to find out that I had, that I didn't want to give them any opportunity to change their minds! I for one had no idea what had convinced them that I was the correct candidate for the promotion, so I was worried that, given time to rethink their decision, they might have difficulty justifying their choice also!

So I accepted the offer quite loudly and quite profusely, leaving absolutely no room for confusion and then I tried not to squirm when Nigel felt the need to hug me in congratulation. Images of how closely I would now be expected to work with him flashed through my mind but I did my very best to ignore them, at least for the time being. I didn't want anything to spoil the feeling of happiness I was experiencing, it seemed so new to me after such a long time feeling like crap!

Speaking of crap, my weekend was pretty much that. Although after a couple of long talks with my dad I am feeling a little bit better about the whole 'every single person I know is a cheater' revelation. I guess forgiving him is easier because I can totally understand why he would cheat-who wouldn't be tempted to cheat on my mother? He told me all about his 'other woman' and I have to admit to kind-of liking the sound of her! She's about ten years younger than him, has a great career, and is completely independant and self-sufficient. He says she is beautiful and a free-spirit who doesn't give a rats arse what other people think of her-nothing like my mother, that's for sure. In fact, she sounds like someone I'd love to be!

Getting my head around Lola and her married guy is proving to be a bit harder, but I'm trying to work it out because I couldn't bear to lose Lola as my friend. I've been wondering if it's possible to ignore the fact that she's seeing him and just pretend that he doesn't exist? I guess that's what life could have been like for me if I'd managed to hang onto Mark. Sometimes I suppose it's better to cut your loses.

So anyway Lola's free this week (wifey is back from visiting her sick mother!) and I intend to have a proper talk with her man-to-man sort of thing, and see if I can't convince her to end it now before someone gets hurt. Failing that I suppose I'll have to decide if I can handle it or not, after all, if I can forgive my father surely I can forgive my friend, right?

Now to end on another bit of good news. Apparently from tomorrow I will be doing a bit of training with guess who? No, not Naughty bloody Nigel-thank goodness!- remember the gorgeous guy from the interview? Just me and him for a week working one-on-one. My heart's racing just at the thoughts of it! Now there's one man I wouldn't mind trying out a new position with...! Did I just say that?

Part 22-All men are cheating, lying, dogmen scumbags!

O M G! Why does it seem that the universe is conspiring against me to make my life a misery and turn every person I thought I could trust into a lying cheating scumbag?

Does every man cheat on his wife? Should I just accept this as being normal and stop letting it upset me?

You're not going to believe this....

I was sitting at home alone watching tv and mulling over my feelings towards Lola now that I know she's seeing a married man, trying to decide whether to condone the fact that she is doing to some other poor cow exactly what the lovely 'Kate' has done to me, or to issue her with some kind of 'him-or-me' ultimatum, when my dad payed me one of his now regular weekly visits.

He arrived all quiet and mysterious as always and for a few moments we sat together pretending to be engrossed in the punch-up between Cain Dingle and Debbie's cheating scumbag of a boyfriend in the far-from-peaceful village of 'Emmerdale'.
There it was again, I couldn't help but think, cheating, lying men evereywhere I turned. Was there no escaping the fact that all men are pigs? I felt my hackles rise once more but tried to save dad from having to listen to a rant by biting my lip intently.

He might be a man but he wasn't stupid. "What's up, Love"? he asked, all innocence.

"Nothing, nothing." I tried to brush him off-save him the torment of being part of my world.

But he was insistent, kept going on, "You seem upset, Love. Tell your old dad what's wrong". And this from a man who had spent the last 32 years buttoning it and saying nothing!

And so I explained to him all about how my good friend Lola was seeing Matt, who had a wife, and how that made me feel as if she was cheating on me too, just like Mark had with Kate, not to mention poor Pamela and her cheating fiance, and that here I was in my own home trying to find a few small moments of escapism and yet I was faced with yet another lying cheating Dog-man on bloody Emmerdale!

"IS THERE NO ONE HONEST OUT THERE ANYMORE"? I screamed.

Poor old dad. I could tell I'd embarrassed him because he flushed bright purple. He wasn't used to such out-pourings of emotion. Mother was a cold fish, to say the least.

For a minute he said nothing and I wished I had taken a leaf out of Mum's book and kept it all inside, after all it hadn't done her any harm had it. She was lucky enought to be married to a saint! Maybe if I'd just been a little less of an emotional wreck Mark would never have left....?

But then dad seemed to muster up a voice he had never had before and my whole world came crashing down around my ears as he spoke....

"Ruby, perhaps now is not the best time to tell you this, but I don't want to go on lying to you, and although if it makes you feel any better I am fairly certain that not ALL men cheat on their wives, there is one more who does that you should know about. Ruby, I'm having an affair".

It was like that night with Mark all over again. My stomache lurched like it was going to introduce me to dinner again (two slices of Dairylea on white bread and a Snickers bar incidently) and I felt my head spin. I was utterly lost for words.

Even my own bloody father was a cheating, lying Dog-man, scumbag! How could this be? This had to prove the theory that ALL men cheat! I was tempted to ring Cass and tell her to start rifling through Dave's pockets, but I managed to stop myself.

Dad explained that he had been so unhappy with my mother (well, come on, tell me something I don't already know) but could never bring himself to leave her and break her heart (ruin her social standing more like, but whatever), but recently he had met a woman who made him feel happy and though he had tried to resist temptation, eventually he had given in to his own needs and desires and at last found love in the arms of another.

See, when you put it like that it's almost easy to condone. And where my mother is concerned, surley these were extenuating circumstances? But he'd cheated on his wife-that made him no better than Mark or Debbie Dingle's fella, didn't it?

That's why he has starting coming to visit me I realised,  because it eases his guilt about cheating on my mother. He said he felt so much worse about it after seeing what I've been going through with Mark. And there was me thinking he just wanted to be there to comfort me! Bloody men!

Well, after that bombshell you can imagine where my head is at. I haven't given a second thought to the fact that I'll find out whether I got that promotion today! Yes, even though the interview went particularly awfully, and the universe appears to have it in for me just now, I still have my fingers crossed that for once life will deal me a good hand. Who the hell am I trying to kid?