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I liked that he’d texted, even if they were a little too raunchy. It meant he was thinking about me. I was quite looking forward to tomorrow in spite of the fact that I felt a little anxious about him and the fact that we worked together.
    I had the weirdest dream that night, with Michael in the headmaster role again, and me the errant student. I was leaning across his desk, bare-bottomed, waiting for a caning. In my dream I heard him approach me and swish the cane mid-air; before I felt the thwack; I woke up in a cold sweat, my body jerking with that falling sensation. Shit, what was that about? It took me ages to get back to sleep and I was really troubled by the dream. I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning and woke up feeling very unrefreshed. Bloody typical, the one night I wanted to feel rested and look my best was the very night that I would end up tossing and turning, promising red puffy eyes the next day!

Chapter Four
     
     
    Within minutes of waking up, the enormity of what I’d agreed to hit me like a thunderbolt. Shit , I had a date with Michael Henrii tonight. What the hell was I thinking of? And the dream didn’t help. I was seriously considering calling it off when my phone bleeped.
    “ 3 pm sharp. I look forward to it. ”
    Flaming Michael! Stalking again. I couldn’t cancel now, could I? Christ, he was so bossy. The dream came back unbidden into my head. I shook a bit of sense into myself and took stock. It was still only nine o’clock; maybe if I got up now, I might be able to get an appointment to have my hair done. I dove under the shower, got dressed, and had breakfast. The salon agreed to fit me in and by noon I was home, with a very elaborate up-style, and killing time. The house was tidy, as was my bedroom, just in case. In case of what, I scolded myself.
    I forced myself to eat some food, as I didn’t know whether I’d have anything later. This surprise crap made it really difficult to plan. I just had to trust to my fate. In a way, it was surprisingly liberating, only having charge of my clothes. Usually I liked to have everything planned in my head. I was ceding control to someone else and I actually quite liked it.
    I heard the girls arrive home as I was putting the finishing touches to my mascara and carefully pulled my dress on over my head, taking care not to ruin my hair or smudge my makeup. Claire yelled up the stairs:
    “Shiv, it’s two-thirty already, you need any help?”
    “I’m nearly done, be down in a minute!”
    I shoved a toothbrush, lip gloss, credit card, and door key into my small handbag, and carried my shoes down the stairs. I slipped them on before I went into the living room to get the verdict from the girls. Of course they had to say I looked lovely; they’d hardly tell me I looked like a dog. I was in the process of being appropriately praised when I heard the doorbell ring. My stomach hit the floor. The nerves were back; I had managed to lose them while I was dressing.
    “Shit, he’s early,” I said with rising panic.
    “What harm, sure aren’t you ready,” ever-practical Claire replied. “Will I answer the door?”
    “No, I’ll get it,” I said, taking a deep calming breath. I didn’t want to make a meal of it. My legs felt like jelly as I approached and opened the door. Fuck, here goes nothing, I thought.
    Michael looked amazing, dressed in a tux and dress shirt, he was almost unrecognisable, he seemed instantly older. There was an awkward moment where we both started to speak, both shut up and then both started to speak again. I decided to let him have the first say.
    “Siobhan, you look stunning, beautiful.” He kissed me on both cheeks on the doorstep.
    “Hello, Michael, Thank you, so do you, very handsome. Do you want to come in for a minute, or just hit the road?”
    “Well, don’t you think you should leave some contact details with your flatmates? Here’s my address and phone number,” he said, brandishing a piece of