Marbella Truth

by Shel Stone

  “She is a lovely girl. I think Hassan’s an idiot for letting her go, but men so often are.”

  How he hated it when Persephone came out with such blanket statements based on nothing at all. Idiocy wasn’t the preview of a specific gender. Although with his own girlfriend, perhaps he should have seen through her sooner. It only showed he’d been too trusting.

  “Back to the discussion at hand.”

  “I didn’t know there was a discussion at hand,” his sister said, accepting her wine glass. Tristan received his cognac in a bulbous glass.

  “I was saying that we can choose not to play Father’s game.”

  Persephone was listening. “How exactly?”

  “Between the three of us, we can choose our own destiny and there is precious little father can do about it.”

  “I think he’s shown he can.”

  “Only if we choose not to fight each other.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we decide how we want to divide the money and we make it so, irrespective of what the courts think about it.”

  “Obviously it would be nice to think we could.”

  “We can make such an agreement.”

  “An agreement,” she repeated and for a moment he thought he’d lost her.

  “We can decide how our family money is divided. It doesn’t need to be Father. It doesn’t need to be the court. We can decide. We can split the money evenly. We can choose to do that.”

  “Even Ludwina?”

  “Of course.”

  “None of it would be enforceable.”

  “No. We are family. We can choose to take care of each other. I know it was a concept Father didn’t understand, but we can set a new direction. Extract the wealth by the fastest, easiest means and then do as we see fit. No one can tell us what to do if that is the strategy we pursue.”

  There was silence for a moment. Persephone was considering his words.

  “Surely it has to be better that battling it out through the courts for years, being stuck here throughout,” he continued.

  “I doubt we’d be stuck here.”

  “We could be. At the very least we’d be returning here every time there’s a solicitor or a judge that wants to do something. And it would be an absolute fortune in legal fees. I think we can determine a better future for ourselves than Father envisioned for us. All it requires is that we trust each other.”

  “I have to say it is an interesting proposition. What kind of split are you thinking about?”

  “Even. Provided that’s what Ludwina wants. She may not want the hassle of dealing with wealth.” It was true that wealth needed active management. “Obviously Ludwina could be taken care of so she would never have to worry about anything financially, but it is up to her.”

  “We would have to make a very clear agreement on how we want to split things.”

  “Naturally,” Tristan said, smiling because he knew Persephone was open to the idea. Neither of them wanted to slog it out for years through courts, or to give their father his way. That might actually give more satisfaction. It only went to show that they were much better people than where they’d come from. If nothing else, that was an achievement.

  Another benefit was that they might emerge stronger as siblings. Although how those bonds would fare now that Father wasn’t uniting them was hard to determine. For how awful he’d been, he’d also been the common enemy.

  Chapter 15

  INNS WASN’T SURE THERE was a more despised airport than Malaga. Alright Heathrow was torture, but it had always been bad things that had him coming to this airport, and right now he felt uneasy.

  Part of him wondered if Annabel had found some excuse not to come. He could imagine her doing it, and it would be some dumb excuse like her horse was lame. A lame excuse.

  And it was fucking hot. There wasn’t enough air and there were people everywhere. The plane had landed, but it was taking her an age to get through.

  Finally, he saw her and she looked as annoyed as he was. It made him smile.

  “It’s unbelievable how pushy some people are,” she said as she got to him and kissed him on the cheek. “How are you?”

  “Good,” he replied and took her bag. “Another sunny day. Can you imagine?” he said tartly and led her out towards the carpark.

  “It’s brave of you to drive here.”

  “It’s alright when you get used to it.” For some reason, he felt like he had to defend this place. “I’m glad you’re here.” He really was. With Aggie and Esme around, things felt hostile, as they always had here.

  “I suppose it will be nice to see where you were imprisoned for almost a year.”

  “I wasn’t imprisoned.”

  “You made it sound like it.”

  “I was simply going through a difficult period.” Truthfully, it hadn’t really gotten any better when he’d returned to the UK, but then he’d met her and things had started to calm down. She’d been a good influence on him. Not that he’d ever admit he’d needed one, but she’d been an anchor for him.

  Annabel had suited him perfectly—intelligent, sensible and she understood the things he valued. They were the same in that regard. Values were important.

  “The evenings are nice here,” he said as he started the car and drove them out of the carpark. Again he wondered why he felt that he needed to defend the place. Perhaps because he had made her come here. And the evenings were nice.

  Throughout the drive, she told him about the Gymkhana. And although they shared a lot of interests and values, girls sports wasn’t one of them. Largely he tuned out.

  “So this was where you were living,” Annabel said when they arrived at the Fellworths’. “Wasn’t there some girl you were canoodling with. I do recall you telling me.”

  For some reason, at the start of their relationship, he’d told her about Esme. Not in any detail, but that he’d been in somewhat of a relationship. He’d been drunk and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, looking back, it might have been a mistake—especially as they may actually meet. It was a discomfort he hadn’t had the pleasure of enduring before.

  And embarrassingly, Esme was with that gym monkey. That was the problem with Esme. There was always something unreasonable about her, something uncontrollable. No, control wasn’t right. He hadn’t wanted to control her, but he’d wanted to trust her not to be crazy, and he’d never been able to do that. There was something a little crazy about Esme. That same craziness that had attracted him so much. Something about her had always felt dangerous.

  Annabel was the exact opposite. She would never make a scene. She would never date someone inappropriate. She wouldn’t be inappropriate. For example, she would never seduce him in a crowded theatre. It wouldn’t even occur to her.

  He’d missed Esme like a physical ache when he’d left. That part he’d never admitted to anyone.

  No, thinking of the past was morose. “There are some nice restaurants,” Inns said. “We should try a few. And Gibraltar is not far away. An excursion would be possible.”

  “That would be quite nice.” Subversely, he wondered if she liked the sound of that because it wasn’t Spanish. A tense topic in some parts around here. On some level, Annabel wasn’t a fan of foreignness, so there might not be much point exploring some of the more Spanish towns around here.

  Inns actually had appreciated the Spanish and their culture. It was that mix of things that existed here that he particularly didn’t like. Marbella wasn’t really Spanish, and it wasn’t British. This was where the wealthy spent time, and that wasn’t culture. It was something else. The Fellworths, specifically Aggie, were here to escape their own culture, to instead spend their time with a group that had wealth at the centre of their beliefs. It wasn’t class, or breeding, or values. It wasn’t strength.

  “The house is lovely,” Annabel said as if it was a surprise.

  “Everything here is lovely,” he said under his breath. It was the point of th
e place. But it was an artificial form of loveliness.

  Cassandra walked into the house from outside. “Oh, there you are, Inns. You found her. Welcome, Annabel. We’re so excited to have you.”

  “Thank you,” Annabel said. “It’s a pleasure.”

  See, she could be trusted to say and do the right things at all times.

  Chapter 16

  SOLRAYA WASN’T EXACTLY BROKE, so she didn’t have to rush to get a job, but she would run out eventually. Her time in Europe hadn’t exactly been wealth producing, but she was rich in experiences. She’d had fun, had met people, had been places.

  This really was the first time she’d been without a job, and had no plans on getting one. It had been a long time since she’d been entirely aimless. It was taking a bit of getting used to. And now that the panic at finding out she was pregnant was passing, she was starting to chill out a bit. A nice feeling she’d missed.

  And now that people were starting to know, she really should tell her mother. Her mother would be happy, but also disappointed that she wasn’t doing this within a nice, stable relationship. Nice and stable hadn’t exactly been her style, though. So why start now.

  Even with panic passing, the whole baby thing was still so completely alien. Tiny clothes and special furniture. Along with all the warnings that your life would never be the same.

  Her phone rang, breaking the silence of the air-conditioned living room. Chrissy was upstairs sleeping, but no one else was home.

  A number she didn’t know came up on her screen. It was local. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Solraya. Ricky. We met a few days back.”

  The voice had a silkiness to it and she knew it was that British guy that had come to their barbeque. “Yeah, right.” How exactly he’d gotten her number, she didn’t know. She hadn’t given it. Not that she minded, she just didn’t know how he’d gotten it, or why. Then again, he worked with the girls, didn’t he? “What’s up?”

  “I was just wondering if you wanted to do something? I’ve got the day off, so I thought I’d ask.”

  Solraya blinked, not quite sure how to take this. From what the girls had told her, he was a bit of a ‘get around town’ guy, someone who messed around with every girl he saw. Was she fresh meat? “Hmmm,” she said, trying to decide what she wanted to do here. It would be nice to hang out with someone. Chrissy would be asleep for hours and it would be a while before Hannah came home from work. If he thought she was a girl who’d fall into bed through some light flirting, he was sorely mistaken. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Maybe a drink? There’s this cool little place named Jorges. Do you know it?”

  Solraya chuckled. “I know the place.” She’d been the person who’d found it. “Alright,” she said, still wondering if she should quite blatantly state that she wasn’t leaving there with him. Then again, if he wasn’t a complete dick, she could consider it. Fuckboys had their place. So maybe it wasn’t worth completely shutting him down. “I’ve got stuff to do, but I can meet up for one drink.” If that wasn’t message enough, then he deserved what he had coming.

  “Cool,” he said, seemingly not put off by her placing limits on the assignation. “Maybe around two thirty?”

  “Alright,” she said before a quick goodbye and hanging up. No one planned weird shit at two thirty in the afternoon. And strictly, she wasn’t opposed to meeting new people.

  *

  It was hot as she drove to Jorge’s and the air-conditioning in Chrissy’s car was crap, but it was tolerable with all the windows down. It felt like summer back when she was a kid.

  It didn’t take long to get there and she pulled into the pitted driveway. Nothing had changed here since she’d left.

  Jorge looked older and he smiled when he saw her. “A soda water.” The old man looked at her with his rummy blue eyes, but he didn’t question the request, even if he remembered that she’d never had a non-alcoholic drink here. While he poured, she looked around and saw Ricky smiling at her at one of the long wooden tables. He looked a little out of place in an old hippy joint like this. Then again, who didn’t?

  “Hey,” she said as she sat down with her drink. He was stupidly attractive, and he was almost expectant when he looked at her. It made her wonder if she’d made a mistake.

  Maybe he was a little socially slow, because he couldn’t seem to find the words. “From what I understand, Marbella has drawn you back too.”

  “I suppose,” she said. “I lived here a couple of years ago. I didn’t intend on coming back, and I’m not sure I do now either. So why are you here?”

  “I guess I felt at home here in some sense. I like the people. Ibiza’s wild, but I felt like I was catering to the tourists too much. Here it’s more mixed. You get a real melting pot. I guess I just like the energy of the place. Not so high gear it burns you out.”

  “I think someone said you’re a DJ.”

  “That’s right,” he said with a smile. “I’m mostly working at Virtue.”

  “I haven’t actually been to the new bar yet.”

  “You’ll have to come. Come watch my set some night.” His eyes were sparkling as he took a swig of his beer.

  Flirting was fun—she’d missed it. There hadn’t been enough flirting in her life lately. What better distractions from the decisions and changes pressing down on her. “Yeah maybe. Not tonight, though. I’ve got plans.”

  Even with a light flirt, the guy had to work for it a little. It never did to let the guy think you’ll be right where he left you. They needed to be kept on their toes. It was a general rule.

  “So what corner have you been calling home?” he asked. His voice truly was like silk. It wasn’t surprising he did well with the girls. Silky voice, awesome body, and gorgeous face. He’d be every girl’s holiday romance, and it would be a lie to say she wasn’t considering it.

  “Paris,” she said. “Met up with a guy, did the couple thing for a while. A different scene in Paris.”

  “Complete change from Marbella. What did you do here?”

  “I worked at Shine. In fact, I introduced Chrissy and Trish just as I was leaving. Worked the bar, not the podiums.”

  “You’d be too distracting on the podiums. I take it you’re not looking for Jesus to hire you back,” he said. “He does take people back. I’m proof of that. Good bloke, all truth be told.”

  There had always been a thing between her and Jesus, but it was a line neither of them would cross. Jesus hadn’t really ever been single, and he didn’t date employees on principle, but there had always been an energy between them. And truth be told, she’d rather have had his respect than being his girl, because when it came down to it, she couldn’t be with someone as regimented as Jesus was.

  “Seems he’s settled down with someone. I hear it’s quite serious. Then again, he was always a bit of a monogamist. As far as I saw, he always had girlfriends. Seems quite serious about this one.”

  “She’s my ex.”

  “Oh,” she said, having had no idea.

  “She’s great.”

  “Quite complimentary about an ex. Are you like that with all your exes?”

  This gave him pause for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. They’re all cool girls, but not the right ones.”

  “Are you looking for the right one, then?” she asked.

  “Yeah, always.”

  The perpetual searcher, Solraya thought. The guy who always suspected the grass was greener on the other side.

  “Well,” he qualified, “I kind of fell into this thing with this girl.”

  Solraya chuckled. “I take it that happens quite a lot with you. What kind of thing?” And why the hell was he here talking to her if he was messing around with some other girl? Had to appreciate the honesty, she supposed, and the balls to think she wouldn’t care—or stupidity.

  “It is fair to say it’s happened an odd time or two.”

  “I take it she’s not the right one.”

  “Nope,” he said and took a swig
of her beer. “Sweet girl, but not the future missus.”

  Now she didn’t know how to take this. The honesty was appreciated. There was nothing worse than a liar, but he couldn’t think she’d hook up with him in light of this. Or maybe there were girls who would. Some girls only craved guys who belonged to other girls. Not her, though, if that was what he was thinking.

  “Think you should perhaps let her know?”

  “I’m the rebound guy, so I am hoping it will just run its course.”

  “You’re not really what I expected,” she admitted. Right now, she didn’t quite know how to take him. As a friend, she could perhaps appreciate his honesty, and antics. “Poor you, must be hard being the rebound guy.”

  He shrugged. “Can’t say it’s hard. She’s a mint girl.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  Yep, going home alone today. This whole thing was too messy for her to wade into.

  Chapter 17

  IT HAD BEEN A WHILE SINCE Samara had pulled on her tennis whites and she was quite excited. Cheyenne and Viola hadn’t questioned her decision to reconsider after she’d so firmly shut down restarting. Here she was. Helping out Persephone was giving her that extra intention of reclaiming this from Hassan.

  Also, they had four members of their tennis match, and this was much more preferable than trying the suggestions for their new group activity. Tennis was fun—and stylish.

  In her red convertible, she drove into the Athletic Club’s parking lot. The car was a belated divorce gift to herself. It was a bit cheesy getting a red convertible, but that was perhaps the point. It was the quintessential ‘I’m divorced, bitches’ car. More like I am free to get the most garish, in-your-face car she could find. Too proud to make it pink.

  The place was the same and for a moment, she felt that wave of panic and sadness wash over her from all the crap she’d endured, but she waved it away. Cheyenne was already down by the tennis courts, waiting with Viola.