Back in our department, I hand Roger the file over without really concentrating and head back to my desk.

For a while, I stare at the spreadsheet I'm supposed to be working on, and become aware that I'm just twirling my pen through my fingers. My thoughts are all about Diana. About the way she leant on the table and managed to touch my bum at the same time, and about how good her touch felt. About how relieved I was to see the spark of desire in her again, after the awful flatness of her gaze at the gig. About the tiredness in her eyes and the way she looked at me as if I could be some comfort. And about Michelle's attempt to cheer me up – but that just means I start thinking about Diana in the bath: her short hair wet and dark, close to her scalp; droplets of water on her ears and cheeks and jaw and neck; her bare shoulders as she leans back, and the line of the water just over the upper slopes of her breasts; her mole...

I take a moment to consider the shape of her breasts, and whether the hot water of her bath would affect her nipples under the water. I imagine that she might reach up with her foot and fiddle with the tap with her toes. I imagine how that would expose her leg to the air, and send rivulets of water running back down over her skin, catching in the crook of her knee, sliding over her thighs...

I can understand why Acteon stayed too long watching his Diana, and gave himself away. I've had fantasises like that about people before, of course, but never quite so intense as this.

She'd told me to go and see her, and I feel the nervous excitement swirl in me at the thought of doing just that. Glancing round the office, I can see that no-one's going to need me for anything else for a bit.

***

I tuck my compact, lippy and some hairpins into my jacket pocket and walk as confidently as I can into Roger's office. 'Sorry, boss. Just thought of something I need to check with Diana...' I head for the filling cabinet and start looking for the file before he can query anything.

I feel my pulse begin to flutter with anticipation, as I walk out and make my way up to Diana's office. I decide to try and be both sweet and apologetic, but also confident and sexy. Just the thought of going up to see her is beginning to turn me on, and I allow myself to wonder briefly whether we will touch each other this time. Or even kiss again. I will let her, if she tries. I want her, I want her to kiss me again, and I prepare myself to give her whatever she wants, if it means I get to have her. I'll deal with the fallout later, if I have to.

I stop off in the toilets to check my appearance. As I'm pushing through the door, I bump into the new receptionist. We gasp and laugh in surprise and apologise to each other, and I lean against the open door to let her pass. She smiles at me through a stray strand of her bobbed hair before pushing it behind her ear. I notice a cute little curly tattoo on the inside of her dainty wrist, although I don't recognise the design. I catch a pleasant perfume and wonder idly why she's away from the reception area. She's very pretty, I think randomly, and has a tiny stud in her cute nose. I've always found those sexy, for some reason, and I assume I'm noticing it now because of my state of mild general arousal. Before meeting Diana, I'd definitely have broken my habit of going for older women to try something on with this girl. She's got a tall, slight figure in her light blue-grey blouse under a casual black jacket, and nice legs below her black skirt. The skirt looks rather shorter than I'd noticed before, and I'm sure she had tights on earlier. She looks back at me over her shoulder as she turns to go along the corridor, and smiles at me cheekily.

Shrugging to myself, I go through and examine myself quickly in the mirror. My dress looks nice, and really does go with the boots. I decide I like the boots look today. Nails and make-up OK too, especially after I run my lippy over my lips quickly and lightly touch up the rest with my compact. I shake my hair loose and try a couple of different ways of pinning it away from my face, finally going back to the original loose clasp I went with before leaving the house earlier. I lean on the counter – the same counter I'd sat back on at the party to let Diana move between my legs as she kissed me – and I think about that kiss. It had been much more tender than I'd expected, and her hands soft. Her fingers on my leg had been hesitant, almost respectful, belying her reputation, but the eagerness had been there too, in her kiss, once I'd let her tongue in. I feel again the insight I thought I'd had before, during that kiss: that actually Diana would be the most amazing lover, capable of being tender and careful as well as hot and sexy, and I feel my pulse quicken at the thought. Even though I know she must have the same effect on every girl she seduces, I never even consider anyone else feeling as special as me.

***

I take a few moments to prepare what I want to say to her. I want to apologise for blowing hot and cold, giving her mixed signals. I want to tell her how much I like her, how much I like her touch and how much I want to touch her, how great our kiss was that first time, and how good it was last Friday, at my desk. I want to apologise for brushng her off. But I also want to be honest about how I want more than just a quick office fling. How I want to go out with her, do things together outside work, see if we'd work as a couple. How she attracts me like very few people have before.

Glancing at my watch, I realise I've spent longer than I intended in the toilet, and I gather myself together and carry on up to Diana's office. Sandra looks surprised and holds her hand out to stop me. The door of Diana's office is shut. 'Er, I'd hang on, Fi, if I were you.'

I shrug, and lean my bum on the front of Sandra's desk. 'I know she won't be expecting me. I can wait.' I don't want to leave this now, I've worked myself up to do it.

'Hmm. She certainly won't be expecting you.' Sandra glances at the door. 'Are you sure you don't want to come back later, Fi?'

I start to wave my hand airily and say I'll wait, but something about her tone, the way she glanced at the door, makes me stop. I frown. 'Why?'

Sandra smiles, but without much humour. It's more a sympathetic smile, I think, and I feel a wash of concern rise in me. 'It's up to you, Fi, but I can tell her you've popped by if you like...'

I stand up from the desk. The horrible suspicion that Sandra is being nice, trying to shield me from something, makes my breath short. I feel something a little bit like panic, or maybe jealousy, churn my insides. 'What's she doing? Is there someone in there...?'

The door opens and I snap my head round. Diana shows the cute young receptionist out and her hand is low on the girl's back. So low, in fact, that, as I watch, her fingers slide gently over the curve of the girl's bum, like she touched me about an hour earlier, and I see her squeeze the girl's bum gently. The girl's miniskirt is slightly wonky, and she tugs at the hem quickly to straighten it. I open my mouth to say something but just feel like I want to choke. I notice the girl's blouse has a few more buttons open than before, and I catch a glimpse of the lace of her bra. Her cheeks and throat are flushed and she smiles back at Diana as she hurries into the corridor. Diana follows her with her gaze, watching the way the miniskirt moves over her bum and thighs, and there's a glitter of satisfaction in her eyes.

I breathe in deeply and hold it, and she turns to see me standing by Sandra's desk. To her credit, her face falls in shock, and she blushes. She actually blushes, but the jealousy rises into my throat, choking me. I can only utter a strange half-groan of anger, and I stride away, just in time to see the new girl disappear into the lift.

She catches my arm, holding me firmly, but gently. 'Fiona, wait. I need to say something to you.'

'Oh do you, Diana? Do you really? Don't demean yourself by making it “it's not what it looks like”.' The anger is hot in me, and I hope she can hear it in the way I keep my voice down and my enunciation very exact. 'I have some things I could say to you, too, for that matter.'

'Good. I want to hear them. But not out here.' She pulls me towards her office, and I shake my arm free of her hand.

'Let go. I'm capable of walking by myself.' I follow her in to the office, wondering if that's a small victory to her, and push her door shut, a little too roughly. I turn to face her. She's standing in front of her desk, hands on hips, and she looks at me, waiting.