The Casanova (The Miles High Club)

by T L Swan

  “Yep. And ducks, and a weird sheep . . . -like thing.”

  He widens his eyes as if surprised. “Who knew?”

  I giggle.

  “When are you going to invite me over?”

  “Soon.” I shrug. “It’s only early days, you know.”

  “Oh my God, look who’s coming.” He looks up ahead.

  “Who?”

  “It’s Rande Gerber.”

  “Who?”

  “Cindy Crawford’s husband.”

  I screw up my face as I peer down the street.

  “He’s gone now.” He cranes his neck to look. “I swear it was him.”

  “Let me ask you this, if you got a chance to sleep with Cindy or her husband, who would you choose?”

  “Hmm.” He thinks for a moment. “That’s an excellent question.” He twists his lips as if really thinking hard. “Probably Rande.”

  “Okay.” I smile as I think of another. “If you had the chance to sleep with me or Elliot Miles, who would you choose?”

  He chuckles and throws his arm around me. “No contest.” He kisses me on the forehead. “You.”

  I smile. “Why?”

  “Well, because you are totally fucking hot.”

  “And?”

  “I’m pretty sure Elliot Miles isn’t going to take it, which means I would have to, and to be honest I think he’s a little too much man meat than I could handle. I’m not entirely sure I would survive it.”

  I burst out laughing. “You’re right, he is a whole lot of man meat. Even for me.”

  At 7 p.m. the Bentley pulls into the driveway at Enchanted, behind a truck. We’re just getting home from work and are exhausted.

  No sleep last night has really taken its toll.

  Andrew parks the car and it’s then I see the herd of goats in a pen behind the truck. “What’s going on?”

  Elliot gets out and smiles at the men. “Thank you for coming,” he says. “I’ll go get him.”

  Huh?

  Elliot disappears, and a few minutes later returns with Billy on a rope leash.

  “As you requested, Mr. Miles, these are the three-year-old females that we have.”

  What in the world?

  Elliot lets Billy into the pen with the goats. “Pick one,” he instructs him.

  Billy’s little tail begins to wag and he sniffs all of the goats.

  Oh my God . . . Elliot had female goats brought here so that Billy could choose his own mate.

  My heart constricts as another piece of the Elliot Miles puzzle clicks into place.

  The rest of the world has their opinion of my man—hell, I know it well, I used to share it. But now, I really can see him. Here he is, the epitome of power, in his ten-thousand-dollar suit . . . worrying about his farm animal’s feelings.

  With a lot of bleats and sniffing, Billy stays close to one goat. She’s a pale color and has a pretty face. She seems to like him too.

  Elliot stands back, his arms folded, and eventually he speaks. “We’ll take that one.” He ties the rope around her neck and leads her into the paddock and Billy runs after them.

  He turns to the men in the truck. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Send me the bill.”

  The men begin to herd the goats back onto the truck.

  That just may be the sweetest thing I ever saw.

  I get out of the car and move to go inside, and as I walk up the stairs I glance back to see Elliot and his two goats in the distance, and a smile crosses my face.

  Casanova Miles, goat-matchmaker extraordinaire.

  “Do you have everything?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Elliot wheels my suitcase out of the front door.

  “Oh, I forgot my computer.” I take the stairs two at a time. “I won’t be a moment.”

  “Hurry up. Why do you always forget something?” he calls as he disappears to join Andrew.

  We leave for New York today and I’m excited and nervous and wound up and I hardly slept last night for overthinking every little thing. I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but I can’t help it, I am.

  New York is Miles Media territory and I really feel like this is a make-or-break week for us.

  I take one last look in the mirror and swallow the lump in my throat.

  May the gods be with me.

  Twelve hours later, the doorman opens the door to Elliot’s apartment in New York and the air leaves my lungs.

  Wall-to-wall glass with the most spectacular view of a city I have ever seen.

  It’s huge, grand, and super modern, and I’m instantly reminded who I’m with.

  A Miles Media mogul.

  Son to one of the most powerful men in the world.

  It’s easy to forget who I’m with when he’s screaming at goats in his underpants.

  But here . . .

  The power that emanates out of him, the way the staff downstairs were scrambling when they saw him, this apartment.

  His life.

  It makes the time we spend together seem so insignificant, or maybe it’s just me that feels insignificant.

  I knew coming here with him would throw me, to take a peek at the life he lives.

  The life he left.

  I walk through his apartment with my heart in my throat; he stays silent as he watches me.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper nervously.

  I have never felt so out of place as I do here.

  He presses his lips together as if stopping himself from saying something.

  “Would you like a drink, sweetheart?”

  I nod.

  “Wine?”

  “Tequila.”

  He chuckles, clearly amused. “Tequila, coming right up.”

  The vibration of Elliot’s phone buzzing on the bedside table wakes us and he frowns.

  “Elliot,” I whisper. “Your phone.”

  “Go away,” he mutters.

  “Something might be wrong at home.”

  “Huh?” He jumps up and answers it.

  “Happy birthday,” I hear a voice say as clear as day.

  I sit up. What? It’s his birthday?

  “Fuck off, Tris, it’s too early for this shit,” he grumbles sleepily as he rubs his eyes.

  “What are you doing?” I hear the voice ask.

  “You woke me up.”

  “Are you alone?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes. I’m alone.” He reaches over and tweaks my nipple hard and I buckle to get away from him.

  “Hurry up and come into the office, Mom and Dad are coming to see you at nine.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He hangs up.

  “It’s your birthday?” I whisper, wide-eyed.

  “So?”

  “And when were you going to tell me this?”

  He smiles and crawls over me and holds my hands over my head. “Why do you think I brought you here?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be a happy day for me”—his lips touch mine—“if I didn’t get to see you.”

  I smile up at my beautiful man. I didn’t get him a present, I want to do something special for him. “I’m making you breakfast.”

  “Happy to eat you.”

  I giggle as I crawl out from under him. “No, tonight. You have to go.”

  I have to get him a present today . . . Fuck. What the hell do you buy a man who has everything?

  I get out of bed and pull my boxer shorts on and throw on his T-shirt from last night. “Is there food here?” I ask.

  “Yes, it would have been stocked. You don’t need to cook, we can eat out.”

  “We can be seen together here?” I frown in surprise.

  “This is New York, I have a lot more privacy here through the day.”

  “How come?”

  “There are much more exciting celebrities for the paparazzi to chase. Nighttime is a different story, but daylight is good. London is like a fishbowl with nowhere to hide.”

  “Oh.” I walk toward the door. “I’m going to make you
the best damn breakfast you ever did see.”

  He jumps up, fully naked, and picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist. His lips take mine and he opens the bedroom door. “But first.” He walks out of the bedroom as he holds me up. “I am going to fuck you on every hard surface of this apartment.”

  I giggle as we kiss.

  We hear a woman’s gasp. “Elliot.”

  We turn to see Jameson, Tristan, Christopher, and Mr. and Mrs. Miles just standing there. Mrs. Miles has a Happy Birthday balloon in her hand, and her eyes are wide.

  “Mom,” Elliot gasps.

  Everyone’s mouth is open in horror.

  “Surprise.” Jameson smirks as he raises an eyebrow.

  Oh fuck. The blood drains from my face.

  Tristan throws back his head and laughs hard.

  My worst nightmare just came true.

  Chapter 21

  Elliot runs into the bedroom and slams the door.

  I stare at his family in horror.

  Christopher’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Kathryn Landon,” he whispers in shock.

  The bedroom door opens back up in a rush, and Elliot grabs my arm and drags me in and slams the door behind us.

  I put my hands over my eyes. “No, no, no, no,” I whisper. “That did not happen. Tell me that didn’t happen.”

  Elliot is pacing, his hands are in his hair. “Tristan is a fucking dead man,” he fumes.

  I slap him with both hands on the chest like a drum as I lose control and spiral into a panic. “Oh my God, Elliot. They’ll think I’m a ho. They’ll think I’m a ho.”

  “You think you’ve got fucking problems,” he whispers angrily as he points to his dick: it looks hard and angry. “Not exactly what I want to show my mother before breakfast, Kathryn.”

  “Elliot,” Tristan calls through the door.

  “Prepare to die, fucker,” Elliot hisses.

  “Should . . . we go?”

  “Yes. No. I want Mom and Dad to meet Kate,” he calls.

  I put my head in my hands. “They already met me, being a fucking whore bag,” I whisper in despair.

  Elliot’s eyes widen. “Just a minute,” he calls loudly. “Get dressed,” he whispers as he marches into the closet.

  I run after him like a child. “What will I say to them?”

  He stares at me as if completely lost for words and then shrugs. “That you like my dick.”

  The situation overwhelms me and I put my hands over my mouth and burst out laughing. “Will you be serious?” I whisper.

  “Listen, I don’t know what you should say.” He digs around in my suitcase. “I’ve got my own worries. I just showed my mother my hairy helmet.”

  I laugh hard, trying to keep quiet. “What the hell is a hairy helmet?”

  “A colossal troublemaker.” He throws a dress at me. “Get. Fucking. Dressed.”

  Elliot pulls up his jeans commando-style and throws a T-shirt over his head. He looks down at his crotch. “Now you decide to go down, after you’ve already ruined my fucking life,” he whispers angrily.

  I smile as I throw my dress over my shoulders and pull it down, run into the bathroom and smooth out my dress and quickly wash my face.

  Elliot goes to the door and holds his hand out for me. “Come.”

  I close my eyes, dread filling my every cell.

  “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

  My eyes search his. “Is it really fine?”

  “Not in the least, it’s abysmal.” He opens the door and pulls me out of the bedroom. We find his family all sitting in the living room.

  Christopher, Jameson, and Tristan are all wearing goofy grins, as if this is the best thing to ever happen. His mum and dad are pensive and on the other couch.

  “Mom and Dad.” Elliot holds his hand out. “This is Kathryn. Kathryn, this is Elizabeth and George, my parents.”

  His mother fakes a smile and stands. “Lovely to meet you.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I shake her hand. “To meet you like this is my worst nightmare.”

  George stands. “Could have been worse, dear, you could have been on one of those hard surfaces.”

  The boys all burst out laughing, and my cheeks heat with a blazing fire. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

  “That’s impossible. I’m a virgin, Dad,” Elliot mutters as he kisses his mother’s cheek. “Sorry, Mom.”

  She smiles adoringly up at her son. “That’s okay, dear, sorry to interrupt.”

  She turns her attention back to me. “So . . . Kathryn.”

  “Kate,” Elliot corrects her.

  My heart hammers so hard in my chest that I can hear it in my ears.

  “Kathryn—you work for us, don’t you?” George asks.

  “Yes sir.” I cringe. Kill me now.

  “She’s the head of IT in London.” Elliot smiles proudly. “Damn good at her job, too.”

  Elizabeth smiles softly as she stares at me. I can feel her gaze as she assesses every inch.

  “Who wants coffee?” Tristan stands.

  “Me,” I answer way too fast.

  “Me, yes please. Yes, me too,” they all answer.

  Tristan looks at Jameson and Christopher. “Come help,” he says. The boys both stand and Tristan knocks twice on the table as he walks past it. “Now, that is a hard surface.”

  Jameson chuckles as he walks past a cabinet and knocks twice on it too. “Rock hard,” he says. They disappear into the kitchen and we hear another two loud knocks on the wall.

  “Found another one,” Christopher calls.

  Elliot pinches the bridge of his nose and George smiles. “Don’t mind them, dear, small things amuse small minds.” He walks in after them.

  “So, this is the girl you brought home for me to meet?” Elizabeth says.

  “This is her, Mom,” Elliot replies.

  Nerves simmer.

  “Don’t mind this morning, my dear, I’m well equipped. I have brought up four very unruly boys, you must remember.”

  I nod, grateful for her kindness.

  “What are you doing today, Kate?” she smiles. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

  Elliot frowns, uncomfortable with her suggestion. “That’s not necessary, Mom—”

  “Nonsense, Elliot,” she cuts him off. “When you called ahead and told me you had someone you wanted me to meet, I assumed she was from New York.”

  My eyes flick to Elliot: you rang ahead?

  “But now that I know I only have limited time to get to know her, I’m taking Kate to lunch.” Her eyes flick to me. “That’s if she wants to, of course.”

  This is the last thing on earth I want to do. “That would be lovely,” I lie.

  Elliot looks like he just swallowed a fly.

  She smiles. “I’ll have Henderson pick you up at one.”

  I nod. Please earth, swallow me up into a sinkhole, never to be recovered. “Great.”

  She stands. “George,” she calls. “We’re leaving.”

  “I didn’t have my coffee yet.”

  “We’ll get one at breakfast.” It’s blatantly obvious who’s the boss around here. She turns to me. “I’ll see you at one?”

  I nod.

  “And we have a family dinner tonight at Tristan’s. You can meet all of my beautiful grandchildren.”

  I fake a smile and nod. I wanted to move to the next level but this is going way too fast. “Fantastic.” I wish I would swallow a fly, a poisonous one that would put me in hospital for a week.

  George appears and shakes my hand. “See you tonight, honey.”

  She and George leave, and the door closes behind them.

  “You are all fucking dead,” Elliot yells. “Why the hell would you bring them here? What kind of fucking stitch-up is that?”

  His brothers burst out laughing in the kitchen.

  Tristan comes around the corner with two cups of coffee. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” He passes the cup of coffee t
o me. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” I smile as I take it from him.

  I sit down on the edge of the couch and sip it; ugh, it’s so strong it tastes like petrol.

  This is the literal day from hell.

  Jameson takes a sip. “Fuck, you make shit coffee.” He grimaces.

  Christopher stares at me with a sarcastic smirk. “Kathryn Landon, what the hell are you doing here? You hate him.”

  “Perhaps it’s the hard surfaces that she likes,” Tristan says with a cheeky wink.

  Jameson raises his coffee in the air in a cheers gesture.

  I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment again and a dutiful smile crosses my face.

  Kill me now.

  “Will you just all fuck off,” Elliot snaps. “I’ve got gray hair after this morning.” He stands and looks at his hair in the mirror.

  “Your face though when Mom said happy birthday,” Jameson says, and the boys all laugh as if picturing it once more. They break into chatter and Elliot’s eyes find mine across the room and he smiles softly.

  I love seeing him with his brothers like this; they aren’t at all as I imagined.

  Fun, carefree, and full of banter.

  Surprisingly normal.

  I glance at my watch: 12:45 p.m. Mrs. Miles will be here soon.

  Fuck.

  I’m so nervous I could die.

  My phone rings and the name Elliot lights up the screen. “Hello Mr. Miles.” I smile.

  “Hi. You ready for your lunch date?”

  “Nope.” I sigh. “What do I say?”

  “Everything except anything.”

  “What?”

  “My mother wants to get you alone so she can dig for information.”

  “Like what?”

  “She’s nosy.”

  “What will I tell her?”

  “Nothing. Tell her nothing.”

  My eyes widen. “What if she asks me questions?”

  “Oh, she will. Don’t you worry about that.”

  “How will I answer them?”

  “Just be evasive.”

  I close my eyes. “This day is a nightmare, Elliot,” I whisper.

  He chuckles.

  “Did you really bring me here to meet your mother?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you already, I didn’t want to go a week without seeing you.”

  My heart swells.

  “What if she doesn’t like me?”

  “It doesn’t matter, I like you.”