“I’ll surprise Celine,” he’d said to his secretary. “I’m going to take the day off and see if she wants to go to that fancy restaurant that she likes.”
He shook his head. “What a grade A idiot” he exclaimed to the empty car.
Pulling up at his house, the cars outside had suggested that Celine had guests, no doubt her little entourage of friends. As a busy model, she liked to take every opportunity to spend time relaxing by the pool with her inner sanctum, other models, actresses and occasionally a couple of famous singers.
He made his way into the hall, stopping for a moment to check the mirror and relax in the cool interior. The whole house had recently been upgraded to Celine’s rather exacting specifications. The marble on the hall floor had been flown in from Italy. Hand-mined by dwarves straight out of Lord of the Rings judging by the cost of it. Still it and the top of the range air conditioning provided a welcome relief from the baking summer sun. Personally, he’d preferred the original oak paneling. It had a simple old world charm about it that Norman had found homely. Besides, surely the whole point of buying a castle was for it to actually look like one. Still Celine always had a way of getting what she wanted.
The living room had been similarly decorated with Italian marble and lavish velvet soft furnishings, which Celine had assured him, were exactly like the ones she had seen at Jay Z’s house when she’d been to a party there. When he’d admitted he wasn’t entirely sure who Jay Z was she’d sneered before patting him on the head.
“Well, never mind darling. I suppose you don’t really need to know. Just take my word for it.”
Then she’d turned her back on him and carried on discussing the fine detail of pure silk throw cushions with the ludicrously expensive interior designer who she’d insisted upon. Apparently he did all Elton John’s interior design.
He’d moved through the lounge and closer towards the French doors, following the soft murmur of conversation and laughter outside. He paused for a second just behind one of the curtains assessing the scene. Several models had been lying around the pool in various stages of undress.
Even now, lost deep in his anger he couldn’t avoid a little grin. How was this his life? Never in his wild dreams as a teenage boy, growing up in an average house, with a real estate agent father and stay at home mom, had he ever thought he’d be coming home to a backyard full of beautiful women in their bikinis. Well, it would no doubt be a long time before that happened again.
Trying to make sure he still kept at least some of his concentration on the road, Norman carried on his thoughts of yesterday. He’d been about to make his presence known when he’d heard the start of a conversation. Not really one for eavesdropping, something about the tone had made him stop to listen some more.
“How’s it going with good old Norm, Celine?” One of the models had giggled. He couldn’t remember her name, Candice or Cadence or something. Cadence, yes, that was it.
“Oh you know, as interesting as life with a guy in real estate can be. Thank goodness he’s been so busy these last few weeks. I haven’t had to feign interest in his conversations. Do you know he didn’t even know who the Kardashians were? He asked if they were related to some lawyer dude!” There had been giggles all around the pool at that.
“Seriously”. Cadence had asked. “How do you even put up with him? He sounds like such a bore.”
Celine had leaned forward and slightly stroked her friend on the shoulder.
“Nah... let's just say the golden credit card sometimes come with the unavoidable attachment. But don’t worry, darling. We’ll get you on the yacht circuit this season and you can bag yourself a billionaire bore too”.
Unavoidable attachment? A billionaire bore? That was how she thought of him? Maybe not a bore but definitely a mug. Could it be really true that she was with him just for the money? He’d had his suspicions at the start of the relationship but for some reason, he’d truly believed that she had come to love him. Just like he had her. Did she fake her love the whole time? He couldn’t believe his ears – this was the real Celine he has not yet had the chance to meet.
Unable to listen to any more, he’d stepped through the doors and onto the patio.
“Ladies!” There had been a stunned silence as they all turned to look at him and realized he must have heard everything.
“As lovely a day as it is, I think this little tete a tete is over and it’s time you took this little pool party elsewhere.”
He’d stood hard as granite as Celine weaved her way over to him.
“Darling! What a surprise. Is everything ok? I hadn’t expected you back so early.”
“Clearly...” He had shrugged off her arm and inched further away from her. “Celine, if you could see your friends out. I think we need to talk. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”
The thought still making him steam with anger, Norman realized that he was grinding his teeth as he went over it again. What a bitch she had turned out to be. The argument that followed had to go down as one of the worst of his life. She’d feigned innocence at first, blaming her friends, saying it was all for show and of course she loved him. Then she’d grown hysterical and mean. He was a bore, a nobody until he’d met her. She’d given him street cred, a reason for other people to want to be friends with him. Did he honestly think people would have come to his boring open houses if it wasn’t for her and her friends? He’d snorted bitterly.
“Well, as you have proven, I’m a billionaire which clearly means I’ll never be short of scroungers and lowlifes hanging around me just because I’m rich.”
She’d slapped him then.
“You bastard! I’ll ruin you. You’ll never sell a stupid house again and you’ll grow old poor and alone.”
He smiled bitterly now at the thought. Just another example of how little she’d actually known or cared about him. It had been a long time since he’d had to sell a house. He had offices all around the world with people who did that for him. Not that they actually sold many houses either, unless you counted medieval castles in Europe as houses. Now it was mainly New York skyscrapers or hotel complexes and even the occasional remote island. His customers consisted of the American elite, Russian oligarchs, and European royalty. No, it had been a long time since he’d really had to sell anything.
***
Shrugging out of his musings Norman brought himself back to reality. He should really stop and find out where the hell he was. Perhaps find somewhere to replenish his water. He rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to rid himself of a headache just between his eyes. After the argument, he’d thrown Celine out and then decided he needed to clear his head with a drive. The rest of the things was blur: He’d woken up just a few hours ago in a strange hotel room and a couple of empty whiskey bottles by the bed. Judging by his headache and dry mouth he’d obviously drunk both by himself.
Having nothing with him but the clothes he’d been wearing yesterday, he’d drank as much water as he could before checking out and hitting the road again. He’d no idea how long he’d been driving for now. He checked the clock on the dashboard; it was 3pm. Damn, he’d been driving for hours, and was who knows where. He definitely needed to stop and work out what to do next. He slowed down as he went past a sign.
Cahill Farm
Help Wanted.
Pulling the car to a stop, he checked behind him and saw nothing but an empty road. It was the same in front so he spun the car around and then pulled into a dirt road that obviously lead to the farm. It seemed like as good a place as any to stop. He’d go down to the farm, see if anybody was around and could give him a rough idea of the way home. There was something, though, giving him pause. His eyes kept going back to the Help Wanted part of the sign. Maybe this was his chance for a break.
The chance to spend a few weeks as just a normal guy again. No business meetings, no late night corporate dinners and definitely no model girlfriends. Could he? It had been such a long time si
nce he’d taken any holiday and Mark could handle things for a few weeks without him. What was the worst that could happen? The more wary and fanciful part of his brain had answered. It could be home to a family of inbred cannibals who knock you out, torture you and then eat you. You’ll never be seen again. People will always be wondering about the billionaire bore and what happened to him. Deciding the chances of that were slim Norman started his car again and made his way down the pot-holed road.
Chapter 2
Amy sat in the far corner of the field and watched the car making its way up the drive. She didn’t know much about cars but even from here she could tell it was fancy. Who would be coming here driving a car like that?
She sighed and stretched as she got up. Looking around for her two companions who had wandered off.
“Rolo…… Tabatha…. Come on guys, it looks like we have a visitor.”
Rolo was, of course, the first one to come running up. His tail wagging and tongue hanging out as he greeted her like he’d been gone for years. She laughed and bent down to rub the big dog’s ears.
“Oh Rolo, you daft thing. Come on boy, let’s go and greet our guest.”
She set off through the field with Rollo running a few yards in front of her. She wasn’t worried about Tabatha; she’d appear when she was ready. All the time, Amy was watching the man as he pulled up at the farm house and got out of the car. She couldn’t tell much about him yet apart from the fact that he was tall and had dark hair. She really hoped it wasn’t another lawyer, since inheriting her uncle’s farm and all of the issues that had gone with it initially, she’d had enough of lawyers to last the rest of her lifetime.
***
Norman breathed in the fresh air as he looked around. The farmhouse was old, probably built around the 1900’s and was definitely looking a little worse for wear. The white paint was peeling and the porch looked like it could do with re-boarding. The whole place had an air of neglect about it. Maybe that was what the help wanted sign was for. If that was the case there really was a hell of a lot of work to do and it was clearly going to take more than a couple of weeks but wasn’t that what this crazy idea was all about? Trying a change of lifestyle for a few weeks?
He drew his attention back to the person approaching and was surprised to see a huge white dog bounding towards him. He froze for a second; he’d never seen such a large dog in all his life. Was it friendly?
“Well hello, aren’t you beautiful.” He put his hand out gently for the dog to sniff. “It’s alright; I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Rollo, sit”.
Norman was surprised to see the dog react straight away. He looked up from the dog. A young woman stood in front of him, in her late twenties he guessed. Simply dressed in denim cut-offs, boots, and a red t-shirt. He was struck by how pretty she was, her long brown hair held back in a ponytail, she had a slight tan and freckles on the brow of her nose. Soft brown eyes looked at him enquiringly, waiting for him to speak.
“Wow, that is one obedient dog or bear? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one like it before.”
“That’s Rollo, and yes he’s a dog. The Great Pyrenees. He’s very good at doing what he’s told and an excellent guard dog.”
Looking at the size of him Norman was in no doubt that when necessary he could scare even the most determined of burglars off.
“Yes, I can see why nobody would want to mess with him. Anyway, I’m sorry to disturb you, I was wondering if the owner was around and if I could speak to him?”
“Well, you can certainly talk to me. I’m the owner.”
Norman was taken aback for a second. That had been the last thing he’d expected to hear. How had she ended up owning a run-down farm?
“Oh, ok. Well, I saw the Help Wanted sign and I’m looking for some work and thought I’d see if there was still a position available?”
Now it was Amy’s turn to be surprised. “I’m sorry; you’re here about the job?”
“Ummm... yes”.
She took a second to look at the man standing in front of her. He was definitely tall as she’d seen way back in the field and handsome, in a dark haired, Regency gentleman kind of way. His eyes were an icy shade of blue but were red-rimmed, he’d clearly not had much sleep. He was dressed in suit trousers and a shirt, although they were crumpled. It was obvious they were expensive and his dark leather shoes definitely hadn’t been near a farm before. She looked him up and down and then looked pointedly at his car.
“You don’t look like the kind of guy in need of a job.”
“No, I don’t suppose I do really. I guess I’ve been going through a bit of an early mid-life crisis. I quit my job, sold pretty much everything I had and then spent all the money on this car. Since then I’ve been driving around taking on jobs where and when I can. It’s giving me a chance to gain some clarity and perspective.”
Amy frowned, she wasn’t sure if she believed him, but she desperately needed the help and he was the first person who had turned up in weeks. The last guy had seemed far too much like a mass murderer and she’d had to turn him away. At least this one didn’t seem to be a psychopath, that was something. But one never knows.
“Well, it’s hard work and doesn’t pay much. I can only really offer board, meals and a small wage. I’m after help with the practical kind of things. There is some work in the fields that needs doing, there are several things in the house that need fixing, and one of the barns is leaking. I’m looking to get the farm up and running again but I can’t really do that until these things are sorted. Is that the kind of thing you have some experience in?”
“Sounds like just the kind of thing I’m looking for. I have experience in the building trade so I should be able to help you with most things.”
She looked at him suspiciously, she really couldn’t work him out. Experience in the building trade? How exactly did a man looking like him, driving a car like that end up here looking for work and willing to do it for practically free? Still, she really was desperate.
“Ok then, you’re hired.”
“Oh, wow... that’s great, thanks. I can assure you, you won’t regret it. We’ll have this farm ready in no time.”
Amy couldn’t help but smile at that, he obviously hadn’t seen much on his drive up here.
“Hold those horses cowboy. How about I fix you something to eat and drink then I’ll give you a bit of a tour. We’ll see how enthusiastic you are after that.”
***
Norman looked around as Amy led him through the house and into the kitchen. His first impression had been correct, it was definitely old and definitely run down. He was sure that some of the shelves in the kitchen were still the original wood. It was a nice size, though, with a stone floor and whitewashed walls. A huge fireplace was at one end with a rocking chair in front of it complete with crochet blanket. It felt a bit like he’d stepped back in time. An old wooden dining table took up most of the middle of the room, the blue paint showing signs of wear and many meals. He blushed slightly as he realized Amy was looking at him, no doubt wondering what he was thinking.
“Sorry, I’m just taking it all in. It’s quite a big house for one person.”
Norman realized then that he’d been assuming that Amy was on her own -- why else would she need help? He ignored the part of him that was actually hoping that was the case. Oh no, Norman, none of that, no more girls for the moment.
“I suppose it is, but I have Rollo and Tabatha here with me and I enjoy being on my own.”
Norman sensed that she didn’t want to discuss it too much. Of course, he understood that he hadn’t exactly told her everything about himself either. He did feel a little guilty about lying to her but it had seemed like a good idea, he didn’t want too many questions asked and just wanted to be treated like a normal guy.
“Tabatha?”
“Oh, Tabatha’s the cat. She’s around somewhere or other and she’ll no doubt greet you at some point. I hope
you don’t mind waking up to the occasional mouse at the foot of your bed.”
“I’m sure I can handle the odd dead mouse or two.”
Amy laughed and Norman was instantly struck by how pretty she was, her brown eyes sparkled and she seemed to come alive.
“What is it? What’s so funny?”
“It’s just that Tabatha doesn’t always kill them. There have been several times when I’ve woken up being tickled by a mouse running over my feet. I have to admit I was just thinking that I might not tell you and then see how you reacted.”
Norman laughed too. “Well I’m glad you decided against it, I’m not sure you or my masculinity could have handled my girlish screams first thing in the morning.”
“Well, this is a very old house, with plenty of creepy crawlies. I’m sure I’ll get to hear you screaming at some point. Anyway, can I fix you drink? Would you like some iced tea? It’s rather hot outside and you look like you could do with some cool refreshment.”
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