Two Weeks Later

Don't play games, don't play games with my heart, ooh-wee.

Paige groaned and turned over in her bed. She clutched her duvet with frustrated fists, and pulled it over her head.

Don't play games, don't play games with my heart, ooh-wee.

She sat upright sharply, and blinked as she tried to focus. Her body was as heavy as a log of wood and she wiped the drool off her face. "Blast it! Blast it all! Where is that blasted noise coming from? Mads! Turn the music down!"

Paige looked across the room at Madeline's bed, and saw that she was not in it. When she noticed her friend's absence, her previously foggy mind started to clear. "Oh right. Madeline is not in her bed. She went to see her mum," she grumbled.

Don't play games, don't play games with my heart, ooh-wee.

Her head whipped in the direction of the sound. It was her phone ringing. Making a quick mental note to reduce the volume of her ringtone, she picked it up in a haste, without bothering to check who was calling. Only her parents called so early in the morning and she hoped all was well.

She cleared her throat a couple of times and answered, "Hello."

"Hello. I'm calling to make sure you get ready on time and come to the lab by nine." A deep, masculine voice responded smoothly.

Paige was lost for words. Actually, she had a lot of words, but knew that it was absolutely inappropriate to use any of them. Brian mother trucking Rochester had the audacity to call her so freaking early in the morning because he thought he had the right to be a flipping alarm clock. She could literally feel the steam rushing out of her ears.

Her regret was laced with annoyance. Why on Earth did she offer him her phone number?

"Paige, I know you can hear me. Wait a minute, you are still in bed aren't you?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Paige pinched the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and her thumb as she tried to calm down. For the past two weeks she had endured grueling lab work with a pharmaceutical task master. She could already feel a slight, frontal headache. "Of course I'm still in bed!" she said tersely. "It's six in the morning, and it's not exam season. What kind of twat is not in bed at this time?"

His voice was loaded with scorn when he responded. "I did some overnight lab work, so I am already at school."

Oops. Didn't mean to take the mickey out of him, she thought. Paige stifled a giggle. "Thank you Mr. Rochester, I'll be at the lab, bright eyed and bushy tailed as a Koala by nine. Hello? Hello?" She checked her screen and realised that he had already ended the call. Paige prayed for strength to deal with Mr Rochester, and reluctantly got out of bed. After she had the somewhat tense meeting with Brian, she had a hectic afternoon shift at the pharmacy. Madeline was not at home, so she had to cook and get some chores done before she fell into bed like a sack of potatoes.

Sleeping in on Thursdays was something she loved doing, which obviously would no longer be possible.

"I have never been this stressed," Paige groaned as she went to the bathroom to do her usual morning routine. After a long, warm shower, she felt less like a zombie.

When Paige moisturised her skin and got dressed, she glanced at her bedside clock and noticed it was already a quarter to seven. She shimmied into a pair of blue skinny jeans and wore a yellow polo shirt, before slipping a pair of sneakers on.

In order to make the flat feel less empty, Paige decided to turn the radio on before she made breakfast. She tied her curly hair up in a top knot and hummed and tapped her feet in tune with the music. It was old school British rock hour and she was up for it.

She cracked some eggs and whisked them with some chopped vegetables as she sang along to Somebody to Love by Queen.

I work hard every day of my life, I work 'til I ache in my bones! At the end, at the end of the day - She belted out the lyrics and used her spatula as a microphone. The batter sizzled and the scent of the omelette filled the kitchen. By the time she had dished the omelette and fried two strips of bacon, Don't you Want Me was playing.

Don't you want me baby? Don't you want me? Oh. Don't you want me baby? Don't you want-

"Oi! How's a woman s'posed to get some cruddy peace and quiet around here!?" Mrs Bennett, her landlady shouted.

"Oops!" Paige hurriedly turned down the volume. She knew she could get carried away with music, and must have been louder than she realised. "Sorry Mrs Bennett!" she shouted back.

"It's alright, love. Just keep it down, okay."

"Yes, Mrs Bennett."

"You're up early today, Paige."

Paige poked her head out the window and saw the pint sized, gray haired Mrs Bennett watering her flowers in the front lawn. She was wearing her signature floral dress and a mint cardigan. The pretty red and purple flowers were neatly arranged in ceramic pots and lined up against the fence. "Yes, I am," Paige said with a chuckle. "How's Mr Bennett?" she asked.

Mrs Bennett looked up at Paige and smiled. "He's alright, thanks love."

Paige moved away from the window and ate her breakfast silently. Mrs Bennett was a bit of a fuss pot, but she had a good heart. By the time she was done, she checked the wall clock. It was quarter past eight.

"I guess waking up at the crack of dawn has its advantages," she said out loud, before she decided that she needed to stop talking to herself and get some more friends. She slung her black, raffia bag over her shoulder and walked out the door calmly for the first time in years.

***

Brian's eyes momentarily fluttered with shock when Paige walked through the Block A lab doors. She had already put on her lab coat, bonnet and hand gloves. She strode towards him and stood at arms length. It was ten minutes to nine. He clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to praise her for punctuality.

If she can keep it up for the next couple of months, maybe I'll give her due credit, he thought. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Good morning, Mr Rochester."

"Good-"

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" Paige said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Brian smirked and put his hands in his lab coat pockets. He looked into her eyes and noted their golden flecks. The artificial fluorescent light of the lab gave her caramel skin an ethereal glow. Her smooth top knot accentuated the delicate angles of her face. She battered her long eyelashes and pursed her pink lips knowingly. "We are here for business, aren't we Mr Rochester?" she teased.

Brian blinked and his eyes refocused like someone who just came out of a hypnotic spell. He sharply carried on with setting the lab vessels and instruments in place. "Of course, Paige. Pay attention while I demonstrate how to extract the Prenton pigment from the fresh leaf test samples I got this morning."

"Yes sir."

They spent the next two hours doing practical work in the lab. Over the last two weeks, he had been helping her to sharpen her analytical skills and perfect her data assessments. He was pleased to discover that she was very intelligent and eager to learn. Paige was grumpy in the mornings, but she often calmed down after a coffee and a muffin.

Brian conducted the practicals, and gave her instructions as she attempted to do it on her own. After a few botched attempts at the process, Paige finally perfected the extraction of the Prenton pigment on her own.

She was not expecting a pat on the back from Brian, so she was not surprised when he merely nodded and said, "Good."

They cleaned the lab equipment and table before washing their hands and depositing their lab coats in the laundry basket. They walked out of the lab, side by side.

Paige rummaged through her bag for her mobile phone and avoided eye contact with Brian. "Today was actually fun, Mr Rochester."

"You sound surprised," he retorted.

Paige chuckled. "I am sur-proysed."

"Are you making fun of my accent?" Brian asked with a slight tilt of his head.

Paige pretended to keep looking for her phone, even though she had already grasped with her fingers. She did not intend to poke fun at his Aussie accent, at least not to his face. It was an epic slip of tongue, and she knew she would probably burst out laughing if she looked at his face. "No, of cour-"

He tilted her chin up gently with his right index finger, and she suddenly felt lost for words. His pale blue eyes bore into her dark brown ones. "Bring an overnight bag and a change of clothes when you are coming on Tuesday next week. We are going to Dover," he whispered.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Rochester! I can-"

"You are pardoned, Paige."

Paige stepped back angrily and put her hands on her hips. "I will report you to Professor Rawlings!" she shouted.

He took a step towards her and almost closed the gap between them. "For what?" he asked.

"I am done here!" she said firmly and spun on her heel to storm off.

He grabbed her hand and held it gently but firmly. "I asked you to come with me to Dover so you can take fresh Hawton flower samples yourself. Today was just a training exercise to prepare you for the analysis. You don't have to stay with me. You can even travel alone if you please. Give my regards to Professor Rawlings," he said firmly.

Paige looked down and her shoulders slumped. She turned around to apologise for jumping to conclusions, but he had already walked away. She watched his back as he entered the postgraduate research lab.

There was distinct silence as she looked around, but it was not a comfortable one.