by Shayne Ford
By eight thirty most of the guests have arrived.
The atmosphere is relaxed, and aside from the business related conversations nothing suggests a working environment.
Around nine o’clock another group makes it inside. Distracted, I root my gaze to the entrance. A host directs them to a table when a man and a woman draw my eyes to them.
I have to grip the edge of the table as suddenly my chair no longer feels stable.
What... the... fuck?
What is he doing here?
Furtively, I palm my phone, access my email and review the guest list, looking frantically for an explanation. How come I didn’t catch his name... or hers?
I go down the list until I finally reach the end. Ashton catches sight of me hunched over my phone.
I straighten my back and give him a small smile just as Lex Harrington and Catherine Walker head our way. Inevitably my gaze flies in that direction, and Ashton Blackmore registers that as well.
“You okay?” he asks me, flicking his eyes back to me.
“Yeah, um... I was just... I haven’t seen his name on the list. That’s all,” I say, trying to use a flat voice, stripped of any inflection.
“It was under the Livingston Group. They bought the business.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah... Sure. I never thought about that,” I say, swallowing my surprise and panicking at the same time.
He turns to someone at his right, and my gaze swings to Lex and his companion. His blue eyes glint with a contained smile as he meets people and shakes hands with them.
The vibrating of my heart travels up my neck. My hands turn cold.
I start melting in my seat as I fill my eyes with him. He graces one of the guests with a full mouth grin and my breath hitches in my throat.
The sharp dark suit, white shirt, and pale amethyst tie do him justice. The slim fit jacket outlines his broad shoulders and hard chest. The fabric is smooth and has the sheen of wool blended with silk. The color of his tie spills in his gaze, setting off his gemstone eyes.
A server blocks my view.
“Champagne, Miss?”
I curl my fingers around the glass and bring it to my lips.
“Thank you,” I say and gulp half of it.
By the time the man removes himself and clears the view, Lex and Catherine Walker near our table.
I drink the other half, my gaze scanning them feverishly.
Her dark hair is smoothed out in a silky curtain that frames her oval shaped face. She fashions a red dress with ruby encrusted neckline and matching earrings.
Her attire screams for attention which is not surprising, given the nature of her business.
Ashton Blackmore rises to his feet and shakes hands with them. I pretend nothing is going on behind my back.
Through some miracle or fluke, Ashton Blackmore doesn’t see fit to introduce me to the pair. They take a few steps to the side and get seated not far from me.
Lex pulls the chair out for the woman. She thanks him with a glowing smile that puts a hole in my stomach.
He slides into his chair as well, and my eyes quickly gluing to him. He flicks his gaze up as if he knows I’m here. Without flinching or showing the slightest surprise, he gives me a cold nod. A mere second he spends on me before his expression shifts and his focus centers on the woman.
My blood drains out of my body.
Furtively, I slide my hand off the table and hide it in my lap to conceal my trembling. I swallow hard. A couple of times.
And then I lift my gaze back to him.
He seems unfazed. No emotion on his face. As if we entered a different Universe, one in which we’ve never been close to each other.
He must’ve known I’d be here. How else can I explain his lack of reaction?
I study him for a few more moments, searching for clues.
As I watch him acting normally–– laughing and grinning and being the charming self with the woman, I hear a crack in my heart, a winter wind blowing through it.
I wish this were one of his games. But there is no set-up. Or a riddle.
He just seems perfectly content... ignoring me.
Catherine Walker beams with glee as she gets his undivided attention. I check the time on my phone. It’s too early to go home. Besides, this is still my work.
I do my best to keep my eyes away from them as the live music starts drawing people to the dance floor. Ashton invites Catherine to dance while Lex Harrington grabs his phone, pushes out of his chair and walks out of the room.
My pulse speeds up as I snatch my purse, rise to my feet and sneak out of the event room, following him.
The corridor veers left to a large terrace.
He’s there, standing in front of the handrail and talking on the phone. A few people approach him. He ends the phone conversation and exchanges a few words with them.
I sneak behind a curtain and start observing them. When the last man and woman pull away, I disentangle myself from the drapes and walk on the terrace.
I stride casually as if I did not expect to find him there.
Standing tall near the railing, hands tucked in his pockets he gazes at the city lights. There’s no one else on the patio.
I saunter to him, discreetly clearing my voice.
He doesn’t react. I stop next to him.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
“Hey,” he says softly without glancing at me or showing the slightest emotion in his voice.
“What a surprise,” I say, sounding awkward and contrived.
“Mmm-hmm,” he mutters absently.
“What brings you here?” I ask with a strained voice.
He shoots me a quick, cold glance.
“Business. You?” he tosses at me, and the air temperature drops.
“Um... I work here,” I mumble, quickly losing my composure.
He studies me for a moment.
Despite the dimness on the terrace, I can see the glint in his eyes. And it doesn’t spell out anything good for me.
“Is this place far enough for you?” he asks, and for a moment the meaning of his words escapes me.
“Um... Oh... No. No... It has nothing to do with you,” I say, instantly regretting my words.
Silent, he spins around and pulls away.
I rush after him.
“Lex?”
He doesn’t stop, and then he does, and I crash into him.
He turns around.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a shaky voice, unable to get a grip on myself.
He throws me an icy glare.
Regardless, I keep my eyes on him and dip my gaze, mesmerized by the slow motion of his lips parting and curving into a bitter smile.
“You know Dahlia... I would’ve never thought you were a liar.”
“Liar?” I say, my voice skidding at the end.
He erases the space between us, and I can almost feel his breath on my lips. His perfume tumbles down on me. And with the heat of his body, a carousel of memories comes back to me.
“Yes. A fucking liar,” he says with a frosted voice that feels like the winter’s breath on my face. “And a coward.”
“Coward?” I mutter, unable to lift my gaze from his mouth.
It’s only when he pivots to leave that I flick my eyes up.
“I wasn’t lying,” I blurt out.
“You are lying even now,” he says, pissed, and strides away.
“I didn’t want to leave,” I throw behind him.
He turns around for the second time, erases the space between us, and stops inches away from me.
His gaze slants down, shredding me to pieces.
“I don’t want to hear what you’re telling yourself to make things right, little coward,” he tosses at me.
I don’t flinch.
“Why is Catherine Walker with you?” I ask curtly.
A small smile quirks his lips.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he says darkly amused.
I look at him, unfaze
d. He weighs me for a couple of moments.
“In which quality you ask, Miss Fox?”
My eyebrows pinch in a frown as my lips press together in a tight line.
He slowly nods and purses his lips.
“Right. That’s what I thought,” he mutters, and then, without waiting for a response, he pulls away.
This time for good.
“Why did you have to come all this way, Lex?” I ask just as he pushes through the doors.
He stops but doesn’t turn around.
“It’s business, Miss Fox. I’m sure your boss, Ashton Blackmore can explain that to you,” he says before he vanishes away.
9
DAHLIA
The weekend is eerily silent, with no phone calls, and no messages. I talk to mom, Elsa, and even Connor, who starts asking strange questions about my love life and work.
Monday comes quickly, and something doesn’t feel right. I usually hear from my boss early in the morning. It’s not the case today. I rifle through my clothing and pull out a business skirt suit when a text message arrives.
Blackmore: We travel outside London to give a tour of one of my properties to a group of investors.
I freeze for a moment as all I see hovering over his words is Lex Harrington and Catherine Walker’s faces.
A moment later I pack a small voyage bag and call our driver. He picks me up around nine. One hour or so later, the car follows a quiet road inside a large country estate. I recognize the name–– it’s a golf resort and equestrian center that belongs to Blackmore Enterprises, but I’ve never been here before.
It’s a sunny autumn day with a crystal clear sky, a mosaic of colorful leaves fluttering in the wind. A few cars are parked to the side. It doesn’t surprise me to spot a black Ferrari amongst them.
My stomach shrinks into a ball as the memory of Lex, and our London trip from a couple of months back comes to me.
I walk out of the car and enter the large estate.
Staff members swarm the place.
I get directed to my room, the nice lady guiding me also giving me a small tour of the property and going over the amenities with me.
Aside from the golf course, and the equestrian center, there are several tennis courts, a couple of custom made pools and a sauna.
I take a quick shower, change my clothes and walk out the room. It’s almost noon when I join the group of guests chatting on the terrace. Most people are seated at the tables waiting for the lunch to be served.
As I stride closer, I take in the men and the women. Some of them I recognize from Friday night. Some faces are new to me.
Catherine Walker is not part of the group. I let out a sigh of relief.
Standing not far from the tables, Ashton Blackmore talks to a group of men and women. I quickly spot Lex’s blonde hair and broad shoulders.
The men wear slacks and shirts, some of them fashioning elegant sweaters while the women sport riding suits or attire fit for the tennis courts.
It’s business and pleasure wrapped in one.
Smiling, Lex runs a hand through his hair. My gaze sweeps his arm as his well-defined muscles shift beneath the white fabric of his shirt.
Light reflects in his sea blue eyes, and my heart jolts.
As the minutes tick by, Lex and I don’t get the chance to exchange words or even as much as lock eyes once.
After lunch, I retreat in Ashton Blackmore’s office and start working on a couple of reports as well as drafting business letters.
The afternoon slowly rolls in when the snickering of horses draws my eyes to the window. Men and women, all fashioning riding boots, breeches, and helmets, straddle horses and gallop away.
The door opens.
“Is everything done?” Ashton Blackmore asks, strolling in.
I spin away from the window, fidgeting as if I was just caught slacking.
“Yes.”
The door doesn’t close behind him as another man shows in the doorway. The air gets instantly colder as Lex Harrington swaggers in.
Briefly, Ashton swings his gaze back and forth between us.
“I think you know each other,” he says.
I detect a slight amusement in his voice.
“I need you to go over the company financials with Mr. Harrington,” he says, glancing at me. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
With that, Ashton Blackmore spins on his heel and vanishes out the door.
A cloak of ice forms on my shoulders as the door closes and I’m suddenly trapped with Lex in the same room.
The last thing I expected was to spend time alone with him, in a work capacity nonetheless.
Nervous, I run my hand over the pencil skirt and tug at the colorful scarf wrapped around my neck. I wear a tailored white shirt, navy skirt, and heels.
My hair is tied in a pony tail.
I show him to the couch. He takes a seat on the sofa and crosses his arms over his chest. I steal a few glances in his direction, trying to feel his mood.
There’s not much I can feel.
“Can I get you something?” I ask as I gather the paperwork spread on my desk.
I clip everything together in one pile and spin around.
“I’m good,” he says, evading my eyes.
His voice is filled with icicles. I start shivering as if I’m covered with hoar-frost.
“Would you like me to delegate this task to someone else, Mr. Harrington?” I ask, suddenly prickly.
His eyes fly to me as cold as his voice.
“Why would I want that?”
“You look like you need to be cheered up a little, and perhaps, I am not the best person to do that. I’m sure someone else can go over the information with you,” I say as he slowly purses his lips.
“It may be, Miss Fox. However, Ashton Blackmore assured me that you are the most qualified person to do this task. Why would I question his judgment?” he retorts, in a mood to fuck with me.
“Okay,” I say and take a long breath.
My chest tilts up as I inhale, drawing his gaze to my mounds.
I set the stack of papers on the table and take a seat next to him. His gaze slides down onto my legs as I pull my knees together and slightly point them toward him.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?” I say, and his eyes flick up.
I give him a small smile.
He straightens his back, leans forward and grabs the pile of papers. He sifts through them as I start to clear my throat when his finger shoots up.
I stay quiet as he scans the information. He plops everything back on the table, and motions to me.
“Go ahead, Miss Fox,” he says, leaning back in his seat.
I speak for at least twenty minutes before it dawns on me he doesn’t need me to review the information for him. It’s only a way of getting me in the same room with him and observing my squirming for his own pleasure as if he doesn’t have anything better to do.
Soon, I end my presentation and swing my gaze back to him.
“Do you have any questions, Mr. Harrington?”
Slowly, he stretches his arms on top of the sofa and parts his thighs slightly.
My eyes dip. I make an effort to hide my gaze.
“Are you up for a ride, Miss Fox?” he asks after a few moments, startling me.
I whip my eyes to him.
There’s not the slightest trace of a smile on his face. He looks at me guarded and unreadable.
Blood rushes to my face, warming up my skin.
“What do you mean by riding?” I mumble, not the smartest question.
“For someone who just went over Blackmore Enterprises financials with me, this is a really silly question.”
“You mean riding, riding?” I ask, fucking it up for the second time.
He bites his lip.
“Yeah... What other kind of riding do you have in mind, Miss Fox?”
My face is so hot it could melt off any moment.
I look down to my lap to hide my blush.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that kind of riding,” I say, plopping another gem into the conversation.
I can almost hear his chuckle begging to roll off his lips.
I look up.
He cocks an eyebrow and parts his lips, laughter peeking in his eyes.
“Horse riding is as easy as any kind of riding if you apply yourself, Miss Fox.”
“I may fall off the horse.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there to catch you,” he says, and for some reason, I fall in love with his words.
“Okay. Give me a minute to change my clothes.”
He pushes up to his feet.
“Sure. I’ll meet you in my room in a half an hour,” he says nonchalantly, and my knees almost give in.
I look for clues on his face, but he doesn’t offer more.
Smoothly, he pushes through the door while I stand in the middle of the room, turned to stone.
DAHLIA
One of the staff members is kind enough to bring me everything I need for the riding session. Boots, a pair of low rise riding tights, a polo shirt, gloves and a helmet.
I’m tempted to let my hair down, but then I change my mind and keep it in a pony tail.
I glance in the mirror one last time before I walk out the door. I strut down the corridor, and a couple of minutes later, I knock on Lex’s door.
“Come in.”
I push the door open and still not far from it, thunderstruck.
He sports the same kind of attire minus the helmet that sits on a table. His muscles ripple beneath his skin as he flexes his arms and fixes the collar of his polo shirt.
A narrow belt highlights his waistline, his riding pants setting off his muscular thighs and butt.
I feel a flutter in my belly.
Frustrated I peel my gaze away.
“Ready, Miss Fox?” he tosses at me, a faint smile threading through his gaze.
He caught me.
“Huh?”
He locks my eyes.
“Never mind,” he says, reading my confusion and distraction.
He motions me to the door.
Fifteen minutes later, he introduces me to a brown mare named Brandy. Jaguar, a black stallion waits for him.
He teaches me how to mount my horse.
I hold the reins with my left hand, and position myself as I grasp the cantle of the straddle with my right hand and lift my left foot into the stirrup.
