by Claire Raye
Noel rolls his eyes before turning to look at me, finally meeting my stare. I watch as he flinches a little, as though surprised at what he sees or shocked at my refusal to back down and kiss his arse like everyone else does.
“Listen,” he says, his words a low hiss. “You don’t want to go making threats like that to me unless you can afford to back them up,” he continues, smirking at me. “Trust me when I say, I can afford to crush you.”
Now it’s me rolling my eyes as I step even closer, so we are practically nose to nose. “Yeah?” I say, the word dripping with sarcasm. “Well guess what, fuckhead? I can afford to crush you too, so don’t test me.”
Then I turn and walk off before he has a chance to respond.
I’m too riled up to get on the Tube, so I walk for a while, letting the cool summer night try and calm me down.
I have no idea if Noel’s going to say anything to Ava about our confrontation and a part of me wishes I’d hung around to find out. I hate the thought of him punishing her because of something I’ve done and I feel sick with regret that I may have created that situation for her.
I pull out my phone and send her a text.
Me: hey babe, I hope the rest of your night is ok and that dickhead doesn’t cause too many problems.
The bubbles pop up immediately, letting me know she’s typing out a reply.
Ava: it’s all good, he’s calmed down now…I think he might actually have multiple personalities?!!
I let out a long breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding.
Me: I think he has one –-> fucking arsehole. Anyway, be careful babe, I don’t trust the guy. Love you – c u tomorrow x
Ava: love u 2 xx
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I finally relax a little, hoping I really haven’t made things worse for her by threatening him like that.
At the next tube station, I head down, catching a train back home. When I reach the flat though, I don’t feel like going upstairs alone. Deciding a drink is a better option, I head inside.
“Can’t stay away, huh?” Oliver asks, grinning at me.
I pull up a stool at the bar and he wordlessly pulls me a pint, sliding it over to me. “Thanks,” I say, shrugging in reply to his question.
“Ava still on nights?” he asks.
“Yep,” I nod.
He laughs. “Let me guess, you’re lost without her?”
I glance up at him, eyebrow cocked which only makes him laugh harder.
“Lost, bored, unable to go on living,” he says dramatically, shaking his head at me. “You need a hobby, mate.”
I roll my eyes. “I have hobbies.”
Oliver laughs even harder now. “Shagging your wife does not count as a hobby.”
I grin, because he’s right, even if it is one of my favorite things to do. “Fuck off,” I tell him, jokingly. “Anyway, how’s it been tonight?”
Oliver shrugs as he looks around the room. “All good,” he says. “The usual for a Friday night really.”
“Good,” I add, finishing off my beer and standing.
“There is one thing though,” he adds, his tone serious now.
“What?”
Oliver exhales, his fingers automatically moving to the cigarette tucked behind his ear. “Joanna came by,” he says.
“What the fuck?” I half shout.
He shrugs. “Yeah,” he says, by way of explanation. “I’m guessing she was hoping to see you?”
I shake my head, sitting back down and gesturing for him to get me another beer. “No, that’s not why.”
Oliver shoots me a glance as he pours me a fresh beer. “What is it then?”
I exhale, wondering how much worse this night can get as I hold up my left hand, my thumb flicking the ring that sits on my ring finger.
“This,” I tell him.
Chapter Sixteen
Ava
My evening sucks even more than usual. Noel has been on the warpath and it’s not just me he’s after; it’s everyone he comes in contact with. I’ve been able to diffuse a few tense situations, which he should be thanking me for, but I know that will never happen.
“Ava!” I hear him bark from across the set and it takes everything in me not to shout his name back at him. A feeling of disgust runs up my spine making my shoulders tense and my teeth clench. I take in a deep breath in an attempt to control myself.
I walk over to where Noel is standing, his wife Sadie sitting in a chair next to him as she flips through the script, her eyes never leaving the papers, but her hand slips out and brushes mine as I walk by; a subtle gesture to tell me she’s here, but she knows I can handle him.
“Yes, Noel?” I ask. While my words come across cool and collected and ready to assist, inside I’m seething. Ever since I took Lewis on the tour of the set, Noel has been relentless almost as if something happened between them.
When Lewis texted earlier asking about how things were going, I wasn’t about to tell him. He already hates that Noel treats me with such disrespect, but if he knew the extent of it, I’d be unemployed and Noel would have a broken nose.
It’s only been a few weeks and generally it takes some time for me to settle in, and for my employer to get used to having a new assistant. It’s part of the job and sometimes it takes longer than others. Most of the time, it’s more awkward than anything. Imagine having someone come into your life and learn the ins and outs of everything you do, even down to when you’ve last had sex or when you had your period or what type of underwear you wear. But with Noel things have been a little different and I think it’s just him trying to show me he’s some hotshot director and I need to conform to his impeccably high standards. Guess he doesn’t get that I know that because my actual job is to be exactly who he needs me to be.
In spite of the fact that he’s at least ten years older than me, he’s still quite attractive. He glares at me, his deep brown eyes filled with a menacing anger that’s usually not directed at me, but more like something he’d want me to pass along.
“Take these,” he says, shoving a stack of papers into my arms along with an empty coffee cup.
He pauses and says nothing more, but I know not to walk away because there’s more coming. He pauses at odd moments, something I’ve learned, but I know it’s not because he’s choosing his words wisely. He’s the kind of guy who releases his assistants like you would a child from a dinner table. So I stand at attention, waiting and when he looks up at me again, there’s a small but simple smile on his face.
His tone changes a little, the harshness gone, replaced by a tone that is more appropriate for the space.
“Bring the papers to the editing trailer and give Peter a message for me.” And again he pauses. But when his words return they’re back to being clipped, concise and filled with anger. “Tell him I said if he thinks these re-writes are acceptable he can get fucked. Also ask him if he wants to be fired. Then report back to me on what he says.”
“Noel!” Sadie cuts in, her voice full of reproach, her eyes narrowed in his direction. “Don’t make Ava do your dirty work. Be a man and do it yourself or be the asshole I know you are and text him.”
“Mind your own fucking business, Sadie.”
“If you don’t want it to be my fucking business, then don’t say it in front of me.”
“It’s not an issue,” I reply, breaking into the awkwardness of the marital spat that is occurring in front of me.
“It is an issue,” Sadie states, disgust falling from her mouth as if she’s tired of being treated this way. I often wonder about marriages like Noel and Sadie’s. I haven’t been married very long and my marriage was definitely a quickie, but Lewis and I don’t speak to each other like this. There’s a mutual respect between us, but in Noel and Sadie’s case, the only thing that seems mutual is hatred.
Why stay when it’s so miserable?
“Is she your assistant?” Noel quips back. He’s now standing over Sadie, his eyes looking down at her. “You can do
what you want with your assistant and I’ll do what I want with mine.”
“Oh, I know you will.” Her eyes rolling as she shoves out of the chair and walks away.
The awkwardness hangs heavy in the air, the set now humming with quiet conversation as everyone tries to be privy to the gossip that is currently happening.
“Is there anything else?” I ask, trying to return the balance to our relationship.
“Check the calendar,” he says with a loud huff before storming off after Sadie.
I don’t need to stay in this job, and if I’m being real, I could probably land something within just a few days of quitting, but I hate the idea of not seeing this through. Noel may be a complete jerk, but I can do this job regardless. He doesn’t make or break how well I do my job and I won’t let his arrogant and demanding ass be the reason I quit.
I pull out my phone and see he’s added a massive assortment of shit to my to-do list before my night is over. He’s changed his breakfast, his dry cleaning needs to be picked up, which means I’m working until at least eight in the morning since the dry cleaner doesn’t open till then. He has two pitch meetings tonight and has added that I need to re-read the notes I took yesterday and update them so he’s prepared. Not to mention that he’s canceled the car I hired for him because he doesn’t like the type of car, but gives no mention as to what type of car is acceptable. All of this in addition to my regular routine of answering emails, reading scripts, posting to social media and tending to all the other petty random things Noel needs.
It’s going to be a long night.
The rest of my evening goes on quietly, with me taking a few candid shots of Noel on set for Instagram, creating and scheduling some posts, answering emails and updating his calendar. I’m now staggering down the street, exhausted and feeling like I’ll be a zombie for the rest of my life, as I walk up to the dry cleaners.
I’ve learned to be friendly with everyone I meet because you never know when you’ll need him or her someday. And in the past making friends with people like the dry cleaner allows me access to their services at times when they’re normally closed. I could easily drop Noel’s name and doors would open as if it were the gates to heaven, but I prefer to make my own connections.
I walk into the dry cleaners where a small older woman sits behind the counters reading a magazine, and I greet her with a smile. Knowing this won’t be the last time this woman sees me, I arrive with a box of assorted pastries.
“Hi, I have a pick up for Ava Bristol and these are for you.” I set the box down on the counter and before the woman even begins to look up my name, she opens the lid and smiles.
“Thank you. This will make our day so much better. What was the name again?”
“Ava Bristol.”
She begins to type my name into the computer, clicking a few things, and then looking back up at me.
“Can you spell it?” she asks, a confused look on her face as she takes a white frosted doughnut from the box.
I spell out my name for her, but she comes up short again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything here under that name.” Her look is apologetic, her eyes turned down a bit.
“That’s really weird. I have the name and address of your business here in my phone. Can you give me one second?”
It’s a rare occurrence that I get something wrong and I know Noel would never have given his own name, let alone dropped off his own dry cleaning. I’m going to guess it’s under his old assistant’s name since I didn’t actually drop the dry cleaning off myself. I quickly scroll through my phone looking for her name and finding it in some old email correspondence.
Luckily the place is empty, so I walk right back up and give the woman Noel’s old assistant’s name, but again nothing. I’m struggling here and the last thing I want to do is ask Noel. He’ll annihilate me for being ill-prepared and confused, but I have no idea what name it could be under.
And then it hits me, when he hired me I wasn’t married. I’m certain it’s under my maiden name.
This time when I give her my name, she smiles and nods her head; the conveyor belt full of clothes begins to move. Grabbing a plastic-cloaked stack of shirts and suits, she hands it to me and I pay her.
She thanks me again for the pastries and we share a few pleasantries and chat casually as she amends my name in her system before her next customer walks in.
Here’s to hoping these connections come in handy the next time I have to work an overnight and have a dry cleaning pick up.
Before I leave I shoot Noel’s accountant an email verifying that he has my name change on file. All of this was changed when Lewis and I got married, but clearly Noel let it slip his overly busy mind. Either that or he just doesn’t give a shit.
As I’m walking out, I text Lewis letting him know I have to drop Noel’s dry cleaning off at his trailer and then I’ll be home. I’m sure he’s up and off walking Daisy because he doesn’t respond immediately.
Today is going to suck because he’s opening the bar and will be there through closing, which means I won’t see him unless I want to spend my waking hours with my husband and at least thirty other strangers.
When I reach Noel’s trailer, the dry cleaning slung over my arm, his breakfast in the other hand and a coffee clutched to my chest, I push open the door. I walk straight to the small coffee table in front of me and set everything down and when I turn, my eyes fall on Noel at the end of hallway near the bedroom area.
His back is to me, his pants pushed down slightly revealing the top of his ass as he fucks what I assume is his wife up against the door to the bedroom.
He looks over his shoulder but doesn’t stop what he’s doing, his hips still moving and I’m aghast, my mouth falling open as I quickly look away and mutter, “I’m sorry.”
Shielding my eyes, I quickly arrange his breakfast on the coffee table and hang the dry cleaning in the small closet near the front door. I say nothing more as I exit, my heart racing, my cheeks warm as the shock continues to move through me.
Today couldn’t have been any more awkward.
Lewis is at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea when I walk in. He watches me, his eyes raking over my body and even though I’m completely exhausted, the idea that he finds me sexy still makes my stomach flip with excitement.
“Hey sweet girl,” he says, his voice deep, and still a little hoarse with sleep. I walk over and straddle his lap and immediately feel him harden beneath me, his dick pressing to my center.
“How is possible that me sitting on your lap has you hard already?” I ask, teasing him as I wiggle around a little.
“Just watching you walk over to me gave me a semi.”
I laugh at his crassness, something I’ve grown used to, something I’ve always secretly loved. His mouth presses to my neck, sucking and nibbling as he now has me feeling exactly how he is.
“How was your night?” he asks between easily seducing me, his heavily tattooed arms are now running up and down my thighs, his fingers fiddling with the button on my pants.
“It was…weird.”
“Weird how?”
“I walked in on Noel fucking his wife.”
Lewis stops, his hands resting on my hips as he pulls his head back so he can look at me. “You sure it was his wife?” he asks, a cockiness to his tone, his head titled to the side giving me a look at that says I’m wrong in assuming it was his wife.
“Who else would it have been?”
“Have you met that wanker? I’m certain he’d fuck anything that moves.”
“Oh god, I hope not.” I didn’t give it a ton of thought until Lewis brought it up, but I didn’t see her face and after the argument they had I wouldn’t want to be fucking him. But maybe that’s their thing. Anger banging. “They had been arguing on set earlier and I just assumed they were making up, I guess.”
Lewis laughs, his head falling back and it gives me the opportunity to suck on the pulse in his neck making him forget o
ur conversation completely.
Chapter Seventeen
Lewis
I leave Ava sleeping in our bed, now completely worn out after she kept sucking on my neck and teasing me so that I had no choice but to lie her back on the kitchen table and go down on her before dragging her into the shower for some quick, but hot sex.
I really want to curl up in bed with her now too, but I can’t, having stupidly organized to work today.
I hate that this is our life at the moment. Like two ships passing in the night who barely have time for a quick chat or a quick fuck before one of us has to leave. I know it isn’t going to be forever, but it had got me thinking about the way I’d always lived and worked in the past; following a schedule that never factored anyone or anything else in. Never caring about what time I started work or what time I finished.
I’d always liked the hands-on approach to running the family business, not just doing the books or checking in with the other pubs we owned around London and the rest of the country. My parents and I generally met about once a month to discuss how everything was going, and while neither of them actually pulled beers for customers anymore, this was always a part of the job that I’d enjoyed. Hell, it was the only reason I’d ever met Ava in the first place. And for that I would always be grateful.
Except now things were different.
Because now I have a her.
Ava, my wife.
The one person I always wanted to be able to spend time with, but especially when her schedule was so unpredictable. And all of this had got me thinking about hiring someone to help out, just so I could have that flexibility now.
I open up the pub, firing up my laptop on the bar because I know it will be a slow day until the lunch hour hits. I trawl through some job sites, posting a few ads looking for some casual bar staff.
