by J. J. Sorel
“You’re staying the weekend. You know that, don’t you? Did you bring your swimsuit?” I asked.
“Sure did. My new bikinis,” she said, shooting a cheeky smile at her man.
When we arrived at my old cottage where they were to stay, Aidan said, “Let’s have some lunch first. It’s a lovely day, so how about we eat on the terrace around the pool?” He looked at me for approval.
I nodded. “That’s such a lovely idea, Aidan.”
Tabitha, who hadn’t stopped smiling, had her arm linked in mine. Aidan looked pleased. He could see how close we were and how happy I was having her there.
He clapped his hands together. “Right, I’ll leave you girls to it. Evan, do you feel like a beer?”
Evan’s big dark eyes smiled. “Show the way.”
As we watched them walk off, Tabitha said, “Shit, Clary, is this really happening? I mean, look at these hotties. They’re our men.”
My face ached from smiling too much. Tabitha’s excitement pretty much described how I felt each day, particularly waking up to Aidan with those turquoise eyes smiling, and that masculine physique rubbing against me. I sighed. “Yeah, we’re pretty lucky, all right.”
I opened the French doors to the cottage. “Put your stuff in here. This is where you and Evan are staying tonight. It’s my old cottage.”
Tabitha went straight to the bedroom and put her bag down. “This is so comfortable, Clary.”
Before she’d arrived, I’d instructed Susana to stock the fridge with wine, beer, juices, and food. I checked it out and it was all there. “I filled the fridge for you.”
Tabitha came and inspected it. “Thanks, sweetie, this is amazing. We’re going to have fun. Should I change?”
“No, you’re good like that. After lunch, we can go to the beach if you like.”
She twirled me around. “Yay…”
I laughed. “Come on, let’s go for lunch. I’m starving.”
“So am I.” Tabitha skipped along.
Hand in hand, we were those same two girls from humble beginnings, traipsing along a cobbled path of privilege.
I took Tabitha to the ballroom, which extended onto the terraced pool area with an unobstructed view of the sea.
She stopped and stared. “What a view. I’m expecting to see some chubby, hairy-chested guy, sucking on a cigar, drifting around on a floating bed.” Tabitha giggled.
“Come on, crazy girl.”
Aidan and Evan lounged back, holding little bottles of beer. Aidan was one of those rare species who could drink all day and night and never seem drunk. The trick, he told me, something he’d picked up while travelling in Europe, was to have a couple with lunch, a break, and then a few with dinner, followed by a couple of nightcaps.
My father approached it this way too. And I thought about the French and the Italians who seemed to live forever, even though they enjoyed their wine. It all came down to happiness. And Aidan and I certainly had that.
When Susana trolleyed out our lunch, she made sure she bent over, showing Evan her cleavage. She was back to skank-wear, and I was seriously vexed.
Evan was a new conquest. Given the way her eyelids grew heavy with a lusty glint of approval, I could see he was her type. His arms were huge. Tabitha had told me he was a gym junkie, and that certainly showed. I preferred Aidan’s leaner look, although he still had strong arms that were capable of lifting me high like a ballerina, spinning me in the air.
Tabitha’s eyes narrowed. The green monster had arrived. And she was not as tolerant, or as subtle as I was. When Susana turned her back and bent over so that her panties were on show. Tabitha cleared her throat. “Hey there, you’re putting me off my lunch. I don’t think we need to see that you had a big fat sausage for breakfast.”
While Aidan nearly choked on his drink, Evan’s lips curled into a wry grin. I gleaned that he was enjoying the ride—an eyeful of a well-toned butt while his beautiful girlfriend spat fire. Tabitha’s large green eyes were ablaze with insult.
Susana turned to look at Tabitha, casting a smile that never reached her eyes.
When she departed, Tabitha asked, “Where’s the powder-room?”
I got up and took her. She didn’t really need it, I soon discovered. She caught up with Susana and whispered something to her. It wasn’t too friendly judging by Susana’s shocked expression.
When Tabitha returned, I asked, “What did you say?”
“I told her that she was acting like a skank and that she was better suited to serving clients at a brothel.”
“Shit, Tabs.” I couldn’t help but laugh.
She shook her head. “What? How can you tolerate that whorish behavior? She wants to fuck our men. It’s really plain and simple. Can’t you smell it?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. I hate her. I’ve told Aidan. But apparently, she’s bedding the cook. And Will’s like family. I’ll have another word with Aidan.”
“I reckon you should. I wouldn’t trust her with the family priest.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Tabitha and I headed upstairs to listen to the band practice. We’d just had a swim, walked around the estate, sunbathed, and enjoyed a couple of cocktails around the pool.
It was fun. I hadn’t really enjoyed such a leisurely day in ages. Normally, I was either with my father helping him with his books, sketching, or working with Greta in the office. I didn’t mind being busy. Aidan often said it was okay if I wished to be a woman of leisure, but I couldn’t see myself lazing about.
As we climbed the stairs, checking all the paintings along the landing, Tabitha said, “This place resembles a museum.”
“Doesn’t it? I love it. Aidan keeps encouraging me to make it as homey as I’d like and use the whole mansion, but I prefer to hang out up here.” I opened the door to our living space.
Tabitha whistled. “Wow, this is something else. It has a lived-in, warm feel. It’s also very you—old-fashioned and vintage.”
“Yes, Ms. Modernity.”
Tabitha chuckled. “And loving it.”
I took a peek at her bare arms. “All your marks and bruises have faded. I’m relieved. This latest predilection of being chastised has got me all worried.”
She pulled back her head, scrunching her face. “Hah?”
“You know? Your Fifty Shades of Bruises fetish.”
Tabitha laughed. “Hey, there’s no need to freak, I’m a grown-up.”
“Yeah, well…”
She bit into a nail. “We haven’t had any sessions this week, that’s why. Mainly because Evan’s been busy.”
“You sound disappointed,” I said.
“I am a bit. I love our little play sessions.”
“Evan’s all over you, Tabs. I can see he’s seriously into you.”
She smiled. “I know. It’s just plain vanilla for the moment.”
“There’s nothing wrong with vanilla,” I said.
“Yeah, I suppose. But the naughty-girl stuff is so much fun. I’ll have to do something to annoy him. That’s what normally sets him off.”
“Oh, God, Tabs, I hope he doesn’t hurt you.”
“You’re going all grandmother again, Clary,” Tabitha said, stepping through the French doors. “This is the largest balcony I’ve ever stood on. One could live here in this space alone.”
“Might get a bit windy,” I said, fixing my hair in the mirror. It was all tangled from my earlier swim. And although Aidan loved my hair out and wild, it bothered me, so I tied it back. “Let’s go and check out the band.”
“Sure thing. Can you believe it? They’re sexy, hot rock stars as well. Evan often practices at home on a pad with sticks. I love watching him, those big arms banging away.”
“It’s not too noisy? What about the neighbors?”
“The neighbors are his ex-army buddies. They can get a bit raucous themselves. And the king of the castle is never there.” She raised a brow.
“It’s about time we spent a weekend there, I think,” I
said, recalling that sexy, delightful weekend I had shared with Aidan in his penthouse at Venice beach.
“You’ll have to. We can parade up and down the boulevard in our skimpy little outfits and join all the other babes.”
“Mm… somehow I don’t think Aidan would approve of that.”
“Yeah, Evan, too. He’s so jealous.”
“It means he’s crazy about you. As long as he doesn’t hurt you, Tabi. He doesn’t, does he?”
“No, of course not.” She tapped my nose. “Let’s go and check out our hot men.”
The band was practicing in Aidan’s music room. Since it was soundproofed and at the back of the house on the second floor, the music was barely audible.
We passed the library. The door was open, so I popped in. Tabitha followed me in.
My father sat in a leather club chair with pipe in mouth, a crystal glass of amber fluid by his side, lost in a book, with Rocket at his feet. It was such a classic picture, my heart sighed.
Tabitha said, “Now this is cozy.”
Rocket sprang up, and my father peered up from his book.
He removed his glasses. A big smile coated his handsome face. “Oh, dear girl.” He let Tabitha hug him. “It’s lovely to see you.” He pulled away and studied her. “You’re looking so well, Tabitha.”
“And so are you, Julian. And this library.” Tabitha shook her head in disbelief.
“Yes, quite. It’s a bibliophile’s garden of delights.” He chuckled.
Tabitha’s attention went to the glass encasement housing an ancient book opened at a page of awe-inspiring Celtic scroll. It was gold leafed with colors so vivid, it looked like having been recently applied.
“Is this genuine?”
Both I and my father nodded, grinning like Cheshire cats. One never tired of witnessing people’s shock and awe upon encountering beauty.
“So, is this what you do all day? Read books?” asked Tabitha, walking about the large room which had a porticoed balcony, like all the upstairs rooms.
“When I can. I’m actually quite occupied. I travel to auctions. And I’m arranging to host a monthly book club as well.”
This was news to me. “Are you? When’s that happening?”
“After our honeymoon. It was instigated by the local novelist, Marianne Kingsley. She mentioned it to Aidan. Next thing I know, there are ten people signed up for it.”
“Marianne Kingsley, the novelist? She fancies you, Daddy. Does Greta know?”
“What? That she’s attracted to me? Or about the book club?”
“Both, I suppose,” I said.
“She knows.” He had an enigmatic expression.
“And?” I asked.
“She’s supportive of it. And I have given her no reason to be jealous.”
“A bit of jealousy keeps things nice and spicy,” said Tabitha.
“Not at my age, sweet girl. Games of that nature can be tiresome.” He looked at me again. “Marianne is fun to have around, with that theatrical presence of hers. And it’s what I love to do, you know that. At least I don’t have to mark essays.” He chuckled.
“But isn’t she a pulp romance writer?” I asked.
“Yes. And a very successful one, I believe. But she’s also well read in the classics and wishes to share that passion with her cohort. It won’t be until we get back from England. About three months away. The reading list is formidable. They’ll need the time.”
“What’s the first book?” I asked. He’d whetted my appetite. I hadn’t been reading much lately, and I loved the concept of a book club at the estate.
“Tolstoy.”
“Not War and Peace?” I asked.
My father laughed at my tone of dread. “No, darling. Considering there are mostly women, I chose Anna Karenina.”
Tabitha’s face lit up. “I love that book. I read it at college.”
I nodded with equal ardor. “Me too. And I’d love to read it again. Can I come?”
“Of course, you can. And if Aidan wants to come along, he is more than welcomed.” He smiled sweetly.
“This is going to be fun. What a tremendous idea. Hey, can we do Jane Austen?” I asked.
“We certainly can. Marianne expressed a penchant for Austen and that she’d love to revisit her works. I’d like to. Every time I visit Pride and Prejudice, I learn something new about those times. Austin’s works are peppered with major political discourses of the day.”
“I can’t wait. I do admire her. Not as much as the Brontes, but then, I was always into the darker, more passionate side of literature,” I said.
Our pause in conversation enabled a subtle drone of music to wash about the room.
“I can see you’re not disturbed by the live music,” I said.
“Not at all. I like it.” My father wiped his glasses. “In fact, Aidan often makes his guitar ring loud. I enjoy it. He’s a talented musician. He always comes here and warns me first. I just tell him to go wild and that I’m a big fan of Jimi Hendrix. You remember that, don’t you?”
“I sure do, Daddy.” I hugged him. And as I pulled away, his eyes twinkled with joy, a joy that we both shared.
“We’re going to take a peek of the band,” I said.
Tabitha kissed my father on the cheek “It’s lovely seeing you, Julian.”
“And you too, Tabitha. I trust I’ll see you next week for my big day?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m so happy for you.”
“As I am for you, darling. Evan’s a good man.”
Tabitha’s eyes glistened. “You’ve met him?”
“I have.”
It was as if Tabitha was getting a father’s approval, having lost her own father. From her reddened cheeks and glistening eyes, I could see it meant the world that my father liked Evan.
We snuck into the room while the band was in full flight. Aidan had his back to me. I could see his pelvis rocking subtly against his guitar. Mm… my pelvis had an instant liquid reaction. As a gentle swelling took place between my legs, I wondered if I would ever stop burning around Aidan.
The rock god turned. Staring into my eyes with a sultry glint, he sang, “Don’t you love her madly…”
Tabitha, meanwhile, took my hands and spun me around. It was her crazy version of a jive, something we used to do as young girls and had practiced ever since. She’d always play the male and have me spin under. It was fun. We giggled like teenagers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Blessed with a sunny afternoon, amid a heart-melting potpourri of bird-song, we congregated in the garden. It was an intimate gathering. Everyone was seated in rows.
As the service was held in the rose garden, an intoxicating floral perfume filled the air. The altar for the exchanging of vows had been placed in front of a Venus statue dressed in pink roses.
If that wasn’t enough to ravish the senses, then the two sopranos I’d hired to sing my father’s favorite aria, The Flower Duet by Delibes, would certainly do it.
At first, I’d arranged a recording of the song to be played whilst Greta walked down the aisle. But when I ran this idea by Aidan, he’d suggested hiring live artists, reminding me that no cost should be spared.
I had also booked the same quartet we’d used for the gala events, only without the theatrical costumes. Their ethereal repertoire of popular Baroque selections fitted perfectly in the flourishing garden.
Greta looked stunning in a pale-blue silk gown with the bodice and sleeves of lace. Her hair was loose and tucked behind one ear with a pink-and-white silk flower, looking very Spanish. It was her face that really stood out. Greta’s blue eyes sparkled. Although I sensed her nerves, she had an unshifting smile etched on her pretty features.
My father, wearing a white linen suit and silk cravat, carried his tall, slender frame with a refined attitude. His hair, pomaded back, gave him the distinguished air of a gentleman from a bygone era.
Arm in arm, Grant was by Greta’s side, looking sharp and handsome in a
tuxedo.
Angelic and uplifting, the beautiful soprano duet floated through the rose-infused air. It was as if they had descended from the delicate afternoon sky, leaving a trail of goose bumps on my flesh. I noticed the audience had that flushed, heavy-lidded look that one gets when aroused by beauty.
Watching Greta floating along to the pretty floral sounds of the singers brought tears to my eyes. It was almost sensory overload. My father glanced over at me, his dark eyes soft and filled with love.
When Greta arrived at the altar, she took my father’s hand. The soprano voices soared up into a crescendo, sweeping us off our feet, leaving an indelible mark on our souls.
Although it was a nonreligious event, it was still laden with spiritual nuance. Nature had that charm about her. The trees swayed gently, seeming to dance. And the birds watched on respectfully, for they knew a beautiful song when they heard one. It was as if nature had turned on her best.
The celebrant’s words were moving. I learnt afterwards that my father had written them. He also recited a love poem by John Donne— ancient-sounding verse that rang through the air like a dream.
The utterance of “I do” sent tears tumbling down my cheeks. Although his focus was on the newlyweds, Aidan squeezed my hand. I turned to look at him, and he returned my gaze with a sweet smile. His eyes had that turquoise softness he got when moved by something profound.
After the beautiful ceremony, the guests were offered champagne and canapes. And then the party began.
As the night entered, we made our way into the ballroom. The dinner was a sumptuous banquet, seven courses of colorful, delicious food resembling modern art on large white plates. Will had well and truly outdone himself.
Tabitha sat next to me. She kept saying silly things that made me choke on my food.
“You two are like children,” whispered Aidan.
“I know. We’ve never really grown up,” I said.
“Promise me never to,” he said with one of his killer smiles.
I frowned. “Don’t ever grow up?”
“Yeah. I love to see you all giggly and silly. It lights up my world.”
