"I'm here to see Tony Turner."
The voice was mellifluous, the lilting accent of the more prosperous parts of Edinburgh.
Asma looked up from her counter. A few moments ago she had been thinking only of the journey home, what ingredients she needed for the preparation of her husband Afsar's evening meal. Now she suddenly felt her heart beating a little faster and a sudden dryness in her mouth. The morning was always her busiest time and now at the end of the afternoon, having readied her counter for the next day, she found herself free to observe what was happening.
Or, to be more accurate, to observe the woman who had made that seemingly innocent statement. The woman had long chestnut hair framing one of those faces so pale as to be almost translucent. Asma found such a look very foreign to her but could not deny that sometimes it was striking, almost beautiful. This woman had a ready smile and Asma suspected that Tony would find her very attractive. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle as she talked to Asma's supervisor, Ellie.
Asma tried to relax, tried not to be obvious in her observation of the woman. Since overhearing those words she had been unable to resist asking herself two questions. 'Will Tony like her?' and 'Will she and Tony..."
The answer to the first question was not difficult to work out. Tony's women, how strange that now she found it natural to think such a thing as 'Tony's women', were not always easy to identify straight away. However, this one would certainly catch his attention. She was undeniably attractive, well-dressed, with that cut-glass upper-class accent and a gold band beside the large diamond ring on her finger. Asma had been here long enough to know that Tony would like her very much.
The woman moved off towards the rear of the store. Ellie's eyebrows flicked up as she turned to go in the opposite direction. Asma suddenly knew that Ellie had been appraising the woman just as she herself had. She also knew that they had had both come to the same conclusion.
Asma saw the clock beside her counter dragging its way through the last couple of minutes of her shift. She thought about Ellie and Tony. They were equals in the store's hierarchy - below only a Manager who kept his visits to the shop-floor as rare as possible. They were both reputedly very good at their jobs which helped the Manager do as little as possible. They also worked well together. Asma was sure that their relationship was purely professional.
Asma was not so sure that it had always been so. Ellie was an attractive woman of about her own age. She had talked to Asma about Tony, reassuring and warning her at the same time. However, some of her comments had suggested a knowledge of Tony acquired at first-hand. Ellie had laughed once when Asma had plucked up the courage to ask her why women would return to Tony again and again. It hadn't been a shocked laugh or a flippant one. It had been the laugh of a woman who knew just why Tony was so popular. A suggestion that if Asma knew what Ellie knew then she wouldn't have to ask such a silly question.
Asma could never ask Ellie outright of course. Ellie was a very good person, a very kind person, someone Asma was happy to think of as a friend. She would never want to upset her by reminding her of such a time. Such a disgrace. Besides if there had ever been anything between the two it was not so now. Had Tony tired of her? Did Tony prefer younger women like that Edinburgh one?
Asma dismissed the last thought without analysing her reason for doing so. She was a modest woman, a good married wife, she had no need of the admiration of any man except Afsar. That was obvious, she knew that. However, she also knew what a guilty pleasure and pride she took in knowing of Tony's interest in her. It was not something to be acknowledged, let alone encouraged, but once understood it could not be denied.
Finally, at long last, the clock moved onto the end of her shift. She completed closing her counter and then, without any concious decision, moved to the back of the store and through the staff door there.
All was quiet. The staff rest-rooms were empty and the last of the afternoon deliveries had been made. The men had gone home, happy to make up for other days when delays had kept them there. The night shift were yet to arrive.
That left Tony's office. Really just a thin partition enclosing a desk and a couple of chairs. She heard voices and carefully crept closer. The partition muffled their voices but she could just make out words and then steps coming towards the door.
Asma's heart leapt into her throat. She quickly moved round to the rear of the office and just made it as the door opened and suddenly she could hear them clearly.
"As I was saying - these would be the access and unloading areas used for your produce. My men are well-trained and we have all the facilities required for perishables. That's what we do here."
"Mr Turner - I was in no doubt about that. I've heard nothing but good about your abilities and attributes." The woman shot Tony a glance.
"We don't get many complaints. My men know the standards that I expect and they live up to them." Tony paused. "I'll confess it's not usual practice for a supplier to come down here in person, I generally deal with the logistics people." Now Tony glanced at her.
The woman smiled, a smile full of warmth and mischief. "A good friend of mine recommended me to come here in person. Imogen felt..." She hesitated and glanced at a camera mounted on the warehouse wall.
"Visual only Tash, no audio," said Tony reassuringly.
"OK," said Tash, "Imogen felt that we might both profit from establishing a personal aspect to our business arrangement."
"Imogen is a good friend of mine too - maybe I didn't realise just how good a friend until a couple of moments ago. So come back into the office and tell me just what you're interested in."
Tony led the way back into his office and pulled the door behind him leaving his fingers wrapped around it for a moment so that the door was left perhaps half an inch ajar. He seemed his usual cool unflappable self but Asma knew he must have been excited not to take care to close the door properly. She hesitated a moment but her curiosity was always going to be too strong for her to resist. She moved over to the doorway. She could hear them clearly and by dropping to one knee she could even put one eye to the door.
"So - after all Imogen told you - and after coming and seeing what's on offer here - what you thinking Tash?" Tony's deep voice was very audible. His comment was phrased as a question but his confident delivery suggested he already knew the answer.
Tash gave a silvery little giggle. "I'm thinking I'd like the same sort of arrangement as Imogen has."
"That right," Tony paused, "cause I'm seeing rings on that finger. Tell me about that."
"Alastair is a friend of Rufus, Imogen's husband. They share certain ..., er, interests. That's why when Imogen told us about you, well..."
Her voice tailed off. Asma was not surprised. How shameful to have to confess such a thing about your husband! What man would want his woman to be with another man, let alone a man like Tony!
"So this his idea or your idea? Who brung it up first?"
"He'd talked about it a couple of times - but just teasing me. Asking if I found Black men attractive, if I'd ever been with one..."
"Had 'ya?"
"No - and I didn't admit how attractive I find a certain type of Black man. I wasn't sure then whether it was a good idea to tell him that. I was worried he'd want me to act on my desires."
"But here you are." Asma could see Tony's smile as he framed the words.
