“How are you, mama? How’s your knee?” I asked, snuggling under the throw on my couch. I hadn’t had a chance to relax all week.
“It’s fine baby. How’s work?” she asked
“It’s good. Just been busy,” I said, staring up at the ceiling.
“Will you be visiting me soon?” she asked. I could hear the loneliness in her voice and it broke my heart. But I had no other choice but to live away from her. There were no jobs for me in our forgotten southern town. And mama could never live anywhere else.
“I wish I could. You know that. It’s just that I’m swamped at work now, mama,” I explained to her, and even though she clucked her tongue and said she understood, I knew she missed me more than she was letting on.
It had always been mama and me, ever since I could remember. I didn’t even know I had a father. She told me the truth when I was fifteen years old. That he was still alive. Living his life somewhere on the East Coast with his family.
All my mother told me about him was that she was his secretary and that he was a rich businessman. No name, no address and nothing about what he was like. She’d lost her job when the scandal became public.
She didn’t need to tell me that he had broken her heart. That she loved him all her life and had forgiven him a long time ago for abandoning her when she got pregnant. I could see it in her eyes. She cherished me because I was her only child, and also because I had a part of him in me.
“I’ve sent the check to the hospital, so you don’t need to worry about missing a payment,” I added, and her voice changed.
“When will you ever save some money for yourself if you keep paying my hospital bills?”
“Mama, don’t worry about it,” I interrupted her, sitting up on the couch. I didn’t want to have this conversation again.
“I know you’re a fancy city girl now with a good job. But you need to save some money,” she continued, disregarding my words.
“Mama! I know what I’m doing. I have enough,” I said, looking around my apartment. It was small and cramped but at least it was summer now so I didn’t feel the lack of a heater. Secretly, I was glad that mama couldn’t visit me. She would be ashamed and angry if she saw how I was living. She thought I lived in a fancy apartment and went to expensive restaurants and bars with fashionable friends. She was happy for me that I had been able to escape the life she had lived. It would break her heart to know that I couldn’t afford any of those things. I ate oven dinners and noodles, never bought new clothes or shoes and was barely able to pay my rent in time. She didn’t know how high the costs of her medical treatments were. Physiotherapy, the medicines, the nurses… it all piled up.
But it was all worth it. She didn’t complain about the pain as much as she used to and it was great hearing how proud she was of me. She told all her neighbors and friends how successful her daughter was and how well she was being looked after.
We chatted a little more before she said she had to go because her nurse was arriving. “Alright, baby, give mama a kiss and get on with your day,” she said into the phone and I smacked my lips together. She giggled at the other end like a child and then we hung up.
I was alone in the apartment again. I got up from the couch and walked over to my computer to go through my work emails. I was waiting on one of the investors to get back to me with a confirmation of a meeting.
I received a message while I was online, blinking at the screen. It was on instant messenger and the username was OConnell.
You busy?
I found a smile spreading across my face when I read it and without thinking, I began to type.
Not particularly.
His reply was as quick as mine.
Come over.
The smile remained on my face as I stood up from the chair. I had to force myself to wipe it off. Why was I this delighted to hear from him? Oscar Connell was a means to an end.
I’d spent all my teenage years, ever since my mother told me about my father, wishing for the day I could avenge her unhappiness.
I knew I could never get my revenge with my biological father. But I wanted to get it with some other man. A man in a position of power, who believed he was using me. History wouldn't repeat itself. I’d make sure that he was the one who felt used, by me. I had hoped for so long that an opportunity would arise where I could use and discard a man, the way my father had done with mama.
When I met Oscar, even before he suggested the deal, I knew he was the man who I could get my revenge with. He was so convinced that he had me in the palm of his hand. It was hilarious how he believed that he could destroy me when he ended our sexual relationship. But I was going to be prepared for it. I would make sure that he understood he meant nothing to me.
So why was I so excited to receive a message from him?
I shook my head and went over to my closet to get ready. I figured it was just the excitement, the prospect of having another round of mind-blowing sex. That my plan was working.
I saw it in his eyes last week, how surprised he was that I simply left after the sex was over. I could tell that he expected me to linger around till he asked me to leave.
But this was a deal, which I was going to keep. Better than he expected me to.
I was there for the sex, just for myself, and for how hot he made me feel between my legs. Not only was he devastatingly good looking, he was also my boss, which made our little fling even more exciting. Plus, the fact that he was my boss made him the perfect target for my revenge.
The thoughts were racing through my mind as I tried to pick out clothes for the night. Nearly all of them were crumpled up or too old to wear.
I found a simple black jumpsuit with very little wrinkles and I slipped into it. The feeling reminded me of the way he had peeled my dress off my skin that night. It took me by surprise.
His hands had explored my body like he was discovering something new. He had pushed into me, his body shivering as I came, his blue eyes glaring at me, right into my soul when I wrapped my legs around him.
Kayla! I said it out loud, snapping myself out of those thoughts. This was crazy. I shouldn’t have been thinking about him, alone in my apartment.
I was always afraid of this. I remembered mama sometimes being lost in thought. She’d be baking some cookies while I studied at the table, and she’d suddenly be staring into space and smiling.
If I ever asked her what she was thinking of, she’d only wave it off. But I knew she was thinking of him because she’d then be sad for hours after that. Just the memory of him for that instant would break her heart all over again. She couldn’t be with anybody else, when he might have married somebody else, living a happy family life so far away from her.
Mama didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to be pushed away, to end up a single parent despite all the love she had to give.
I was scared to the bone of feeling the same, a one-sided love. All men were alike in my view. If my own father could abandon me, abandon my mother who loved him so much, men were capable of anything.
I couldn’t deny that Oscar Connell was too sexy to resist. I wanted him for his body, as he wanted me for mine. But anything else, these instances of thinking about him, had to stop. He had come into my life for only two purposes: to fulfill my sexual desires and then to get my revenge by dropping him like an old hat.
I fixed my hair, slipped into the same silver heels I’d worn the previous night and I was ready to go.
I couldn’t afford to take a cab all the way to his house, but also didn’t want him to see me arrive on foot. So I walked half the way, and then took a cab. It dropped me outside his building and I could feel my heart racing again, just like the first time when I took the elevator up to his penthouse.
This time, he opened the door to the apartment even before I rang the bell. He was expecting me. Had he been waiting for me?
Oscar Connell was in a dark blue checked shirt, and dark gray tailored pants. His blonde hair was smoothened and neatly
brushed back, away from his face. His blue eyes sparkled as he held the door open for me.
He smelled fantastic. Like oak wood and musk, rich.
“I had Marie, my housekeeper, prepare us a meal. Are you hungry?” he asked, twirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. The ice cubes tinkled in the glass and I felt a shiver run down my spine. His body, his face, his eyes; they always took me by surprise.
“No, I’m not,” I said, following him into the living room.
He raised an eyebrow when he turned to look at me.
“Not a time waster, are you?” he asked with that same boyish smile on his face. I placed my hands on my hips so he could look at my bulging breasts. His eyes were drawn to them instantly.
“Where’s your bedroom?” I asked him and he gently placed his glass down on a table.
“Let me lead the way,” he said, slowly walking past me. His hand grazed my hips as he brushed against me. His smell filled my nostrils and I felt my knees quiver. I had to keep it together. He was just another man, just another guy who was fulfilling my needs. Why did he overwhelm me like this?
I followed him down the hallway, while he turned to look and smile at me. I noticed the luxury of his house. The four bedrooms we walked past, the beautiful big bathrooms and then the master bedroom.
I wasn’t prepared for how luxurious and beautiful all of this was, the house, him...
“Like it?” he asked as he pressed the door shut behind us. I only smiled at him, but I was certain he could see it in my eyes. How badly I was lying to myself, about everything.
Chapter Six
Oscar
I hadn’t expected Jonathan to suggest something like this. We had never been very close. I could see him approaching me from the bar now, with two glasses of whiskey in his hands.
Anybody who didn’t know us wouldn’t have been able to guess that we were brothers. He was at least a foot shorter than me, his blonde hair was thinning, and his eyes were gray rather than blue like mine. He was stockier, with a bulging belly and his thick fingers were all decorated with flamboyant rings.
“Here you go, little brother,” he said while placing a glass in front of me.
“Thank you, Jonathan. I’m glad you had some time to go out with me,” I said, clinking our glasses together as he sat down.
Jonathan was married now. His wife Louise usually kept to herself, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her. It could have been at their wedding a year ago.
“Of course I had time to spend with you. We haven’t had a chance to catch up in so long,” he said, as he crossed his legs, or tried to. His belly kept getting in the way.
I had moved on. As much as Sandra’s unfaithfulness had hurt me, and as much as I had hated Jonathan at the time; I didn’t blame him anymore. I let bygones be bygones.
“So, what else is new?” he asked, fishing for things to talk about. I smiled at him, thinking about how much things had changed since we were younger.
Sandra and I were in high school together, and Jonathan had already started working for father. I was a lanky, freckled teenager then. Unsure of myself, lacking in self-confidence and living in the shadow of my father and elder brother, both of whom I thought the world of.
Jonathan was cool. Or at least that was what Sandra thought. He rode fast cars, smoked cigarettes, was learning to be a businessman and making his own money. Sandra caught his eye quickly. Young, outgoing, friendly and giving him the attention he wanted.
I was too madly in love with her to notice what was going on.
“Nothing much, other than trying to figure out a solution to bring us out of the dump,” I replied to his question and took a sip of my drink.
“No, with your personal life I mean. Work is work. Are you seeing anyone?” he asked and I chuckled.
“No. I’m not, Jonathan,” I replied, not surprised that he was trying to dig around for personal information.
“Good, because there’s somebody I’d like you to meet,” he said with a twinkle in his eye that I didn’t appreciate. Before I could say anything, I saw him wave to someone at the far corner of the bar. I followed his gaze and found a woman making her way towards us.
“Jonathan, what are you doing?” I turned to him, and while he kept his eye on the woman, he smiled.
“Just trying to set you up with my good friend Marcia. She’s lovely, you’ll like her,” he said just as she approached us.
I took a deep breath, shaking my head. I wasn’t in the mood for this at all.
“Hello, Jonathan,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.
“Good to see you, Marcia. Glad you could make it. This is my brother Oscar,” Jonathan introduced us and I stood up to offer my seat to her.
Marcia smiled at me, accepted the chair and sat down, while I took a different one between the two of them.
She was dressed impeccably and elegantly in a sequined cocktail dress, glimmering and shining. She sat with her long slender legs crossed and waved to a server.
“So, Oscar,” she said as she turned to me, “your brother has told me so much about you. You’ve only just returned from London, haven’t you?” Her voice was low and husky, and I felt myself stir.
I smiled at her and nodded. “I have, yes.”
“Back for business,” she said and laughed a little. I noticed how her beautiful blonde hair shone under the chandelier crystals of the bar. Her lips were small and painted a bright red. Her dress was provocative, clung to her body, and her breasts rose and fell with her each breath. Marcia was a beautiful and sexy woman, and she knew it.
“Marcia and I have worked on a number of projects together, and she was only recently telling me that she’s beginning to feel lonely. I told her, don’t you worry, my brother Oscar is coming back to town and he’ll know just what to do to cheer you up.” Jonathan was laughing as he spoke and quickly drained the glass of whiskey down his throat.
Marcia ordered a bottle of wine for herself and sat upright in her chair, looking at me curiously.
“Jonathan tells me you’re a bit of a party boy. You know how to paint the town red?” She spoke in that same sexy voice, leaning towards me a little. I laughed and exchanged looks with my brother.
“I’m trying to leave that life behind. Get a bit more serious,” I said and Marcia rolled her eyes.
“Then you’ll become just like Jonathan, no fun at all,” she said and ran her fingers through her long blonde locks.
Jonathan laughed and then suddenly stood up.
“I should be on my way then. The wife awaits,” he said and I stood up too, in surprise.
“You’re leaving? I thought you’d have time for a few more rounds,” I said as he clapped his hand on my back and laughed again.
“I’m a married man now, little brother. I’m not fun anymore, as Marcia pointed out,” he said and blew her a kiss.
“Consider this as an apology gift,” he whispered in my ear and then turned to leave.
I remained standing, watching him leave and then eventually sat back down.
“Your brother is a tease,” Marcia said as the server poured her a glass of wine. I tried to smile, even though I was feeling uncomfortable in her presence. I couldn’t quite establish what was wrong with me.
Marcia was beautiful and I knew what she wanted. And I’d never had a problem with situations like this before. So what was holding me back? The fact that Jonathan had set us up? That Jonathan believed this would atone him for his sin of sleeping with my girlfriend?
“So what is it that you do, Marcia?” I asked her and she threw back her head and laughed. It exposed her long neck and brought her cleavage to my notice. I could feel myself harden a little, but it was gone in a second. My warring emotions were suffocating me.
“Let's not talk shop, Oscar. Tell me about your life in London,” she said, leaning towards me casually.
I drank my whiskey quickly and called for two more. I couldn’t remember feeling this insecure and uncomfor
table, not since my teenage years. I couldn’t believe that Jonathan was still capable of making me feel so small.
“Nothing to report really. It’s like any other major cosmopolitan city,” I said, knocking back another glass as quickly as possible. I couldn’t understand why I wanted to be drunk.
“Did you meet a lot of beautiful English girls?” she asked, touching my arm lightly. I flinched, clenched my jaw and smiled at her.
“None like you,” I said and Marcia laughed loudly.
“You’re a naughty boy. Just like your brother,” she said and I flinched again. I hated being compared to Jonathan. I didn’t take it as a compliment.
She had barely finished her first glass of wine, but I was already on my third finger of whiskey. It was starting to take effect, my head was swimming a little.
I ordered more.
“Jonathan told me you like a good time. He’s probably right. Look at you, knocking them back like a champion,” she said and gave my forearm a squeeze, feeling my biceps as she inched closer to me.
For a second when I looked at her, I thought she was Kayla. Kayla! The thought entered my brain, and I looked away quickly.
“What’s the matter?” I heard her ask and I pulled at my collar. It was getting hot in here.
“Nothing. Just looking around,” I said, growing a little annoyed by Marcia’s incessant talking. I wish we could just sit in silence for a bit and think.
“You know, if you think this place is too noisy, we could just go back to my place,” she said and I turned to look at her. Her lips were inviting, her voice was sexy as Hell and those legs were endlessly long. I didn’t have to struggle to imagine what she would look like naked.
“My place might be closer,” I said and she bit on her lip, tugging her lower lip with her teeth.
“You’re the boss,” she said huskily.
Boss. That reminded me of Kayla again. I had an image of her naked, standing at my bar, drinking a glass of whiskey. Could she be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, or was all that whiskey starting to get to me? Surely there were more attractive women in the world. Marcia, for instance.
The Prince’s Virgin Page 20
