The Casanova (The Miles High Club)

by T L Swan

  “Don’t kick my car or I’m kicking you out, and you can fucking walk, prick,” Christopher yells.

  “I had been searching for this artist for years. I’ve been obsessed with her, I thought there was something there.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” His eyes move between me and the road.

  I stay silent.

  “Did you fuck this artist or not?” he yells.

  “No!” I scream. “As soon as I got there I knew I had done the wrong thing.”

  “So why then . . . did you stay?”

  “I stayed one night.”

  “So . . . you did sleep with her?”

  “No.” I shake my head, regret swimming through my body. “She was full on into me and . . . I faked a headache and went back to my hotel room. I didn’t even get through the first dinner date.”

  He frowns at me.

  “I was confused,” I cry. “I thought it was a sign, that she was the one.” My nostrils flare as I try to get a hold of my emotions. “The beautiful woman I had been searching for, for years, was right in front of me, but then when I looked at her . . . she wasn’t Kate.”

  Christopher shakes his head in disgust.

  “I told her the next morning that I’d made a mistake and was going home. I bought the remainder of her paintings and left.”

  “Then where have you been for a week?”

  “I believed in fate. The destiny I had dreamed about and thought I wanted wasn’t even real. It took me some time to see that what I had with Kate was real. She’s the woman for me, she’s the one that I love.”

  Christopher exhales and we drive in silence for a while.

  “Please, take me back to Kate’s, I have to see her.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I shout. “Take me to Kate’s.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he yells as he hits the steering wheel. “You’ve fucked your relationship up with Kate, and now you’re hell-bent on getting arrested again. You’re all over the news, Elliot. Go home and sort your shit out. I am not in the mood for dealing with your mental fucking breakdown over a woman.”

  “She isn’t just a woman,” I yell. “She’s the one.”

  He huffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Now you discover that . . . after you’ve completely annihilated the relationship.” He shakes his head. “What a fucking idiot.”

  “Shut. The. Hell. Up,” I scream.

  We drive the rest of the way in silence and pull into the driveway. “Drop me off and go,” I snap.

  “I wish I could,” he sneers. “I’ve got better things to do than babysit your ungrateful ass.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I promised Jameson I would. That’s the only reason I’m here putting up with your tantrum. Go inside, and go to bed.”

  He stops the car and I get out and slam the door hard, and march inside.

  Fuck this day.

  KATE

  I sit on the couch with Daniel and Rebecca, horrified as we watch the news.

  In breaking news, Elliot Miles, CEO of Miles Media, has been arrested and charged with assault and criminal damage after an altercation with a photographer this afternoon in Battersea Park.

  Mr. Miles, who appeared to be in some kind of domestic incident with a mystery woman, turned on a bystander when he was being photographed.

  He was apprehended and arrested at the scene.

  The footage goes to Elliot holding me against my will and I’m screaming at him to let me go, then he turns and we see the photographer, and Elliot begins to chase him as he runs away.

  I put my hand over my mouth as I watch in horror. “Oh no, who took this footage?”

  I already knew it was bad . . . but it looks even worse.

  Elliot catches him, breaks his camera and then the man says something to Elliot who then proceeds to beat him. I can be seen in the footage running away from the scene.

  Daniel’s horrified eyes find mine.

  I stay silent.

  My phone buzzes on the coffee table and the name Elliot lights up the screen.

  Tears fill my eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Daniel demands; he reaches down and turns my phone off. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” I snap. “It’s fine, he came back and told me he loved me, that was the fight we had.”

  “He looks angry,” Daniel says.

  I roll my eyes. I can’t imagine how dead Daniel would be if Elliot ever found out what happened last night between us in the darkness.

  Not that I care, of course.

  “He was.”

  I lie on my bed in the darkness; my phone has been off all night.

  He can’t be still arrested, he called me. What if I was his one phone call and I didn’t answer?

  Stop it, stop thinking of him. He doesn’t think of you.

  I turn my phone on.

  Twenty-six missed calls . . . Elliot.

  I close my eyes in regret and switch my phone back off.

  “Kate,” I hear Daniel call from downstairs. “I think we’ve got another problem.”

  “What?” I call.

  “You better come and see this.”

  I drag myself out of bed and walk downstairs to see Daniel still watching the news.

  In a breaking news update, the mystery woman involved in the domestic incident today with Elliot Miles has been confirmed as Kate Landon, until recently an employee of Miles Media.

  It has been alleged that Elliot Miles is involved in a sordid love triangle with Kate Landon and her partner, Daniel Stevens.

  Landon, who lives with Stevens, was photographed with Miles in New York last week but has since returned to her home and partner. It is thought that Mr. Miles is upset with her returning to her partner, thus the altercation this afternoon in Battersea Park.

  It flicks to photographs of me and Daniel holding hands and Daniel with his arm around me. A few of us arriving at various balls in different locations, each one strategically shot so that it looks like Daniel and I are together.

  Then there are photos of me and Elliot in New York together last week, holding hands as we walked out of a restaurant. Another where he is kissing me in the car. Another of us in a shop and Elliot buying me lingerie. Another shot of me with Elizabeth Miles at our lunch date.

  “Get fucked,” Daniel whispers in horror.

  “What the hell?” I put my hands over my mouth.

  It goes to a shot of our house. Our eyes meet. “Hang on a minute, how did they get that?” He slowly gets up and walks to the window and his face falls. “Shit.”

  “What?” I run over and peer through the curtains to see a sea of photographers all set up on the pathway opposite our apartment. Cameras facing the house, waiting for their shot.

  “Oh my God.” I put my head into my hands. “This is a disaster, what do we do now?”

  He hands me his phone. “Call him and find out. He does own a media company, after all. Surely there’s a law about making up lies about people.”

  I exhale heavily. “I don’t want to call him.”

  “Have you got a better idea?” Daniel points at the window. “Asking him what to do in this situation is not taking him back, Kate.”

  “You’re right. Ugh, fine. I’ll call him from my phone.” I head toward the stairs.

  “Let me know what he says.”

  “Okay.” I trudge up the stairs and pick up my phone, turn it on.

  Thirty-six missed calls from Elliot.

  I sit on the bed and hold the phone in my hands. I really don’t want to call him.

  What is there to say?

  My phone rings in my hand, causing me to jump and fumble with it. It’s him.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “Kate . . . hi.” His voice is soft, cautious.

  I stay silent, unsure what to say.

  “I’m sorry about the press, I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

  “How?” I ask. “How will you han
dle it, Elliot?”

  “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

  “The love triangle . . . with pictures as proof.” I get a lump in my throat as shame overwhelms me.

  He lets out an audible sigh. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, I’ll fix it.”

  “If I could believe anything that comes out of your mouth, then maybe I’d believe you,” I spit. “You can’t fix this, Elliot.”

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  “You are not, there are fifty reporters parked out the front.”

  “I’ll get Andrew to collect you. I’ll meet you at my apartment in town. I’m relocating there tomorrow anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to be followed to Enchanted Estate. I don’t want them knowing where I live.”

  “These stories are lies. I’m not with Daniel,” I spit, except I accidently nearly was and I’m mortified.

  “I know that.”

  “But—”

  “They don’t care,” he cuts me off. “Just stay there until Andrew arrives.”

  “No. Nothing has changed, Elliot, I don’t want to see you.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  “I’ll come myself,” he splutters.

  “And I will kick you out in front of the press. Do not come here, Elliot, I mean it.”

  “Kate, that isn’t fair,” he snaps. “You know I need to see you, don’t hold me hostage to the reporters outside your house. I want to talk to you.”

  I shake my head, disgusted. “It’s always about you . . . isn’t it, Elliot?” I whisper. “What you need, what’s best for you . . . your dream girl. What you want.”

  “Enough,” he barks.

  “Okay. Fine.” Exasperated, I hang up.

  The phone rings immediately and I answer it. “Do not hang up on me.”

  “Fuck you.” I hang up again.

  It rings again. “What?” I cry. “What do you want?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “Please.” His voice softens. “Baby . . . I need to see you. We can sort this media mess out, but we need to be together to do it.”

  I screw up my face in tears. When his voice is soft like that, it reminds me of the man I care about.

  “Kathryn,” he says sternly. “Let me send Andrew, and come and meet me at my apartment.”

  I listen.

  “At the very least it will get you out, they can’t follow you into my building, you’re safe there. Regardless of what happens with you and I, you need to leave your house or they will hound you to death and make up more lies.”

  I close my eyes. “I don’t want—”

  “I just want to talk, Kate. I promise.”

  “But . . .”

  “Pack a bag so they know you won’t be back soon. That way they will leave.”

  I pace back and forth as I think, pull the curtains to the side and peer out at the crowded street.

  Reporters are sitting on fold-up chairs and smoking cigarettes. Settled in for the night. I get a vision of them staying for weeks and accosting Daniel as he tries to go to work. This isn’t fair to Daniel or Rebecca.

  Fuck.

  He’s right, I need to get out of here, regardless. He’s the only one who can make that happen.

  “Fine.”

  “See you soon.”

  I hang up and march downstairs.

  “What happened?” Daniel asks as he sits up.

  “Elliot is handling the press tomorrow, Andrew is picking me up. They won’t leave until I go.”

  Daniel’s face falls. “So you’re just going to go to him? Just like that, he snaps his fingers and all is forgiven.”

  “No, I’m not stupid. I’m getting the hell out of here and he’s the only way I can do it.”

  Daniel rolls his eyes.

  “Have you got a better idea, Daniel?” I cry. “Because if you do, please let me know it.” I throw my hands up in the air. “If I stay here, tomorrow morning they follow me wherever I go and make up more lies.”

  He stares at me.

  “Oh, and don’t forget, you are the boyfriend I’m supposedly cheating on, so expect them to follow you too.”

  He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is a fucking nightmare, Kate.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I cry.

  Rebecca comes out of her room, half asleep. “What’s happening?”

  “Daniel and I are in a relationship, and I’ve been sleeping with Elliot behind his back,” I tell her in frustration.

  Rebecca scratches her head as she looks at us both. “You are?”

  “No!” we both cry in unison.

  “Oh.” She frowns. “What a relief, thank fuck.”

  Daniel shakes his head. “Go back to bed,” he snaps.

  “Okay, shut up then, will you both? I’m trying to sleep here.” She walks into her room and closes the door.

  I run up the stairs to pack my suitcase and Daniel follows me. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” I throw my suitcase onto the bed; I already know what I’m doing but I don’t want to tell Daniel just yet, not until it’s done.

  This is my decision, and mine alone; I don’t want anyone to cloud my judgment. After Daniel and I crossed the friendship line last night, I know I have to think on my own from here on in. I begin to pack clothes into my suitcase at speed, run into the bathroom and pack my toiletries. I throw in my shampoo and conditioner, hairdryer. I put my hands on my hips as I look around. I take my framed photographs of me and my parents and put them in my suitcase.

  “How long are you going for?” He frowns.

  “Until things die down.”

  His eyes are wide. “How long will that be?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to stay in a hotel or something for a few days. I’ll call you when I know where I’m staying.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you working tomorrow?” I ask.

  “I think.” He frowns again. “Maybe . . . I might go to my parents’ for a few days too.”

  “Alright.” My eyes hold his. “I’m so sorry to drag you into this.”

  “Hey.” He smiles as he puts his arms around me. “It’s not your fault.” My eyes search his and he cups my face. “Just be careful with him . . . okay?” he whispers.

  “He’d never hurt me.”

  “He already has.”

  I drop my head. “I know.”

  My phone beeps with a text.

  Kate, it’s Andrew.

  I’m coming around the corner now.

  Stay inside until I come to the door to get you.

  Ask Daniel to stay out of sight.

  I text back:

  Okay, thanks.

  “He’s nearly here, he said for you to stay out of sight.”

  “Shit, okay. I’ll go to my room.” His eyes hold mine. “Be careful, babe.” He hugs me.

  “Call you tomorrow. When are you going to go to your parents’?” I ask.

  “First thing in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  With one last look he disappears down the stairs. A sense of urgency fills me and I quickly text Brad.

  Are you home?

  Can I get some things dropped at your house?

  A reply bounces back.

  Yeah sure,

  I’ve been waiting for you to call.

  I’ve seen the news.

  What the fuck is going on, Kate?

  I shake my head.

  A whole lot of lies,

  I’m fine.

  Fill you in tomorrow.

  Love you.

  X

  A reply bounces back.

  Love you too, see you soon.

  X

  Ten minutes later I hear a knock on the front door and I open it. Andrew smiles and walks in and closes the door behind him. “Hello Kathryn.”

  “Hi.”

  “Are
you ready?”

  I nod.

  “I have security with me.”

  My face falls.

  “They will block the photographers and let us get to the car. I’m going to hold this umbrella up in front of you and you are going to put your head down and walk straight to the car. Do not look up, do not acknowledge anyone. We will both get into the backseat and security will drive us away.”

  Nerves dance in my stomach. “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Do you have a jacket with a hood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put it on.”

  I run up the stairs and whizz through my closet at full speed. My heart is hammering, I feel like I’m about to rob a bank or something. I put on my big jacket and walk back downstairs. “Ready.”

  Andrew gives me a kind smile and lifts my hood up over my head—my scared eyes hold his. “Don’t worry, they’ll all disappear as soon as another scandal arrives. This will all be over soon.”

  “I’m not in a relationship with my flatmate, Andrew.”

  “I know, dear.” He takes my hand and opens the door just a little; two huge security guards stand at the edge of my porch. “Ready,” he calls.

  “Ready.” They spread their legs wide as if preparing for battle.

  Andrew opens the door and puts a black umbrella up, facing it toward the paparazzi who are running across the street, effectively blocking their view of me.

  “Now,” he snaps. He pulls me by the hand. “Keep your head down.”

  “Kate,” I hear them all cry as they clamber around us. “Miss Landon, how is your husband?”

  A million questions are being screamed as I am whisked at speed along the pavement.

  “Back off,” one of the security guards yells. He pushes a photographer hard in the chest and he falls onto his backside.

  I begin to get jostled from side to side as they close in. “Run,” Andrew yells.

  My heart is hammering in my chest, and we make it to the car and I dive into the backseat. Andrew climbs in behind me and the door slams shut.

  The photographers all surround the car as they yell out to me, and the security guards jump in and one begins to drive. “You’re going to hit them,” I cry.

  He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t stop. He just drives straight through the middle of them and somehow, they part and let us through.

  I look back at my apartment and sadness fills me; how the hell is Daniel going to get out? “Can you please go back and help my friend Daniel out tomorrow?”