by Carrie Stone
Love or Money?
Carrie Stone
Love of Money? © Carrie Stone 2012
The moral right of Carrie Stone as the author of the work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design & Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Author, nor be circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Find out more about the author at www.carriestone.co.uk
For the best mum. My mum Katherine.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter One
Felicity wobbled slightly as her five inch heels failed to find steady ground underfoot. Wearily making her way towards the small thatched cottage in front of her, she sighed at the sight of the overgrown rose bushes either side of the walkway.
Where on earth had Dan gotten to? He´d promised her those bushes would be trimmed weeks ago. Not to mention a certain other bush that was lacking his undivided attention; it had been ages since he’d initiated sex. Felicity fished a large set of keys from her ostrich skin handbag and unlocked the reclaimed oak door; an unpleasant odour wafted past her out into the cool evening air.
Pinching her nose in an attempt to stop the rancid assault on her nostrils, she quickly located the hallway light switch, flicking it on and gasped.
“You have got to be kidding me” she muttered in astonishment, surveying the disarray that greeted her. Empty beer cans littered her glass topped side tables, alongside overflowing ashtrays and discarded food cartons – some of which contained moulding remains.
Anger flashed through her as she reached into her bag for her mobile. Glenda had a lot to answer for. Felicity had insisted on paying her a rate far higher than average for a cleaner, on the understanding that she would keep an eye on the property. A swift glance at the algae-covered fish tank was enough confirmation that Glenda hadn’t made any effort to keep up her side of the deal. And who in the world had been living in her house for the past two weeks?
Just as she began to dial Glenda´s number, hands shaking with fury and indignation, the back door unlocked.
“Hello? Who’s there?” She marched towards the kitchen, fearless and bold as wrath fuelled her.
Dan looked up in surprise as Felicity marched through the hallway shadows towards him, dressed head to toe in black, carrying something.
“Fee?” The word was barely out of his mouth before the heavy steel paperweight came down upon his head. A cracking sound made them both gasp in horror.
“What the hell have you done?” Dan screamed, reaching up to his head and feeling the first trickle of blood.
Felicity stood transfixed, dropping the paperweight to the floor.
“Dan? But what are you doing here? I thought you were an intruder...” She worriedly flicked on the kitchen spotlights, as Dan continued to rub his head and eye her with distaste.
“Your mum gave me the keys the day after you left for your business trip. She was here cleaning and looking after the property. She didn’t think you’d mind.” He looked at her sadly, shame washing over him. He hadn’t expected her back so soon. The place was a tip.
Felicity bit down on her lip. Mother or not, Glenda had certainly overstepped the mark this time. How many times did she need to be told to stay out of her business. Dan was a gardener. A gardener for goodness sakes! Sure enough, he’d been of service many times, in more ways than one. His rugged attractive features had made certain of that, his large hands knew exactly where things needed to be planted. But he was Felicity´s secret and guilty pleasure, not something she was proud of or willing to divulge. Felicity Harroway was destined for grander things than a sordid affair with a man who played with mud for a living.
Glenda would have to be set straight once again.
Dan watched as Felicity searched wildly in the kitchen drawers. His head felt heavy and sore, yet despite the even flow of blood he knew the wound would heal easily. Years of outdoor work experience in the toughest of conditions had weathered him against grazes and cuts.
“Found it!” Felicity said triumphantly pulling a large red leather Medibox from the back of a cupboard. Dan suppressed a grin - how very Fee to have a Medibox of the highest specification. Her golden hair fell softly around her shoulders as she leaned forward to peer inside.
Dan had fallen slightly in love with her the moment he’d set eyes on her six months ago. Her phone call had come just as he`d been preparing to meet friends for an early dinner. It wasn’t her posh voice, or her abrupt manner that had made him act on her request straight away. It was the fear behind her words. She said she’d found his number in the yellow pages and needed his urgent assistance in dealing with a garden matter.
Not half an hour later, he had found himself outside a pretty thatched cottage with an almost magical air. Situated in an affluent street, it was the smallest of properties within the area and the woman standing in the porch had taken his breath away. His infatuation with her had been short lived, however. Leading him to the garden, she’d pointed to the wasp nest in her thatched roof and ordered its removal. Oblivious to Dan’s bemused expression, she’d offered to pay him double the usual rate. Dan’s kindly attempts at explaining he was a gardener and not pest control, had fallen on deaf ears. He quickly learned that Felicity was not only a vision of beauty. She was also a demanding bitch.
“Here let me tend to that cut” Felicity said, breaking Dan´s thoughts. Pouring a generous amount of pure alcohol onto a cloth, she dabbed roughly at his head.
It had been an incredibly tiring business trip in Amsterdam, not to mention an equally tiring homecoming. Any plans to unwind in her lavishly decorated home had been replaced with frustration at her mother´s lack of control in overseeing her property and Dan’s inappropriate appearance. Felicity disliked chaos. She was a woman of perfect timing, organisational qualities and prim manners. Except now that balance had been disturbed and she had a dirty home and an injured man to attend to.
“Ouch! Go easy with the alcohol, Fee” Dan said, squinting against the prickling pain in his head.
“You’re lucky I’m not having you arrested for breaking and entering, Dan. So I’d keep quiet if I were you.” Felicity teased as she secured a large sticky gauze to the wound.
Dan met her eyes. “I’m sorry I caught you off guard - your mother told me you’d be returning on Tuesday. I certainly didn’t expect to walk through the back door and get lynched with a paperweight” he laughed.
“I´ll get the place tidied up and I’ll be off” he said, eyes sweeping around the kitchen and taking in the vast amount of mess he’d managed to
create in just a few days.
Felicity followed his gaze and bristled. Her lovingly polished marble work surfaces were now playing host to various garden tools. Her extortionately expensive breakfast counter was home to a dozen potted herbs and her state of the art coffee maker was missing from its usual spot.
“Well I’m going upstairs to unpack my holdall - I’ll leave you to it,” Felicity said tiredly, taking a final glance in Dan’s direction. He stood, fists clenched and the muscles flexed in his arms, a habit she knew he adopted when nervous or anxious.
Felicity looked at him more closely; despite his handsome and unkempt exterior there was something off with him. Why was he even in her home in the first place?
“Dan, why are you here anyway?” she asked suddenly, reproaching herself mentally for not asking the question sooner.
Dan shifted his weight and clenched his fists tighter. As much as he had fallen for Fee and her demanding ways, she knew nothing of his feelings. Never once during their relationship, if it could be called that as it consisted solely of sex and gardening banter, had Fee ever made reference to meeting up for dinner or coffee. The one time he had suggested they grab a light lunch after a rather quick fumble in her kitchen, she had looked at him oddly and laughed, brushing him off faster than a tornado.
So why would a woman so successful and beautiful, not to mention financially flush, be interested in hearing that her gardener had left his girlfriend for her?
“Yes, well about that...” Dan began embarrassed. “It’s just that I had a falling out with my flatmate and came here to trim the rose bushes to let off steam. I ended up bumping into your mum, offloading my woes and she offered me the keys to crash here. Didn’t think you´d mind” he grinned sheepishly at Felicity, noting her irritated expression. Of course he’d known that she’d mind. She was a control freak of the highest level. It would irk her no end that he’d been in her home. Still it was too late now to back track. He had no choice but to lie.
Felicity looked cooly at Dan sensing there was something amiss. She decided against challenging him. She had an early start at work and Glenda would have the place looking pristine after the talking to she’d be receiving.
“I do mind. But the damage is done now. Just do your best to tidy up and leave my keys on the hallway table on the way out.”
Felicity turned her back, unaware of the look of hurt in Dan’s eyes as she strode out of the kitchen. In the space of five days, her home had lost its glossy finish. She had an uneasy feeling that this may be the beginning of things to come.
Chapter Two
Maurice had his back to Felicity as she walked into the office. He was a tall, weasely man with thinning hair and a moustache as fine as a mouse´s tail. Yet it was his abrupt manner, distinctive finesse and expensive taste that had earned him Felicity’s respect.
Maurice advised exceptionally wealthy and high end individuals on how best to distribute their financial assets in order to avoid tax implications. Everything worked on recommendation; Maurice knew nothing of the word ‘advertising’, for his business didn’t need anything more than a nod in the right direction. Even an introduction with Maurice would be costly to the client. He knew no boundaries when it came to earning and spending money. Unfortunately, his carefree and often shocking disregard for finances had begun to have its effect on Felicity.
“Good morning, Fee - I’ll have an espresso when you’re ready” Maurice said in his distinctive Swiss accent. He span around in his chair to survey Felicity from head to toe, appreciatively taking in her refined appearance.
“Dior? Wonderful my dear. Simply stunning.” Nodding his head approvingly, he turned once again to his desk and picked up his platinum cased ball point pen.
Felicity looked down at her silky black trousers and shocking orange silk shirt with a smirk. She’d managed to pull it off once again, effortlessly teaming high street with a mid-range designer. Maurice had been none the wiser, simply assuming she had shopped in Dior.
As a child, growing up without a father and watching as her mother juggled three jobs to make ends meet, Felicity had vowed that she would do whatever it took to become a somebody. Glenda had looked both haggard and burnt out by her late twenties and still lived in the small flat Felicity had grown up in.
Felicity on the other hand, now at thirty-one, had established herself as Maurice´s second-in-command, owned her own country cottage and could afford to lavishly indulge in fine things. It had come at a price though; Felicity’s attitude towards men who were not on Maurice’s social or success level meant that they were automatically dismissed in the running for love. Felicity was a stunning woman, but an extremely lonely one.
Preparing an espresso for both Maurice and herself, Felicity yawned tiredly. She had spent the night in broken sleep, wild and racy thoughts of Dan running through her mind. It annoyed her that he, of all the men she had flittering around her, was the one who somehow had managed to get under her skin.
The business trip to Amsterdam had introduced a new client, Mr Lavern, a wealthy and established entrepreneur who had shown more than an obvious interest in Felicity. This had pleased Maurice no end and he had encouraged the flirtation on Felicity’s part, promising his usual remuneration if she managed to help secure him the deal.
It had taken less than forty-eight hours for Mr Lavern to sign the agreement with Maurice to handle his affairs. Felicity repeatedly affirmed to herself that her ten percent cut was worth having to endure more than one night-cap with the client. It would mean she could invest in the new sports car she had had her eye on. Why then, she wondered to herself as she stirred in a sweetener, did she feel so hollow and empty inside?
Felicity spent the morning ploughing through a pile of client files, making countless phone calls and responding to emails. Maurice’s wife, Eva, a small woman with a barely audible voice had also been in contact asking for assistance. It wasn’t that she minded helping Eva - she was more than capable of undertaking the tasks asked of her - but considering that Eva wasn’t permitted by Maurice to work, it puzzled Felicity as to why she didn’t seize the opportunity to make her own arrangements.
Eva and Maurice had never had children, purely because of Maurice’s dislike and fear of little people. He had no patience or time for anything that would distract him from his work or building his fortune. During her six years working alongside him, Felicity had begun to realise that this approach was realistic. She had long given up on any thoughts of marriage or family of her own. After all, what successful career woman wanted to juggle high end deals with changing dirty nappies? Besides, the type of man she aspired to meet and be committed to, wouldn’t be expecting children from her. He’d respect her ambition and drive enough to understand she wasn’t mothering material. He’d also be so busy with his own career that fatherhood wouldn’t be a contending thought.
Putting her laptop into hibernation mode, Felicity glanced at the clock. It was the first Monday of the month and that meant her regular lunch date with Zara. Their relationship had spanned over two decades and despite different lifestyles and priorities, their friendship was something that Felicity cherished. Even if she did despair of Zara at times. Zara couldn’t help being so narrow-minded and soft, Felicity thought to herself. Not every woman had the determination that she had and it wasn’t fair to judge Zara for the fact that she had three children and a loser for a husband. Zara had simply settled for less than best because she was so weak in character. Felicity smiled sadly to herself. Zara was the only one she could open up to; she deserved good things from life and yet she spent her days juggling school runs with a part-time office job. Surely Zara couldn’t be as happy as she made out to be? Felicity knew better; only success and money could bring true happiness.
Picking up her jacket and handbag, Felicity made her way towards the lift of the high-rise office building in which her office was located. Seeing as it was only her and Maurice who occupied the top floor of the building and because he had already le
ft for the remainder of the day, she turned off the lights and locked the door behind her.
Zara sat patiently waiting for Felicity with an orange juice in front of her. She knew that Felicity would undoubtedly be a few minutes late, as usual. Yet she didn’t hold it against her - Felicity’s job was her life. It would be silly to once again lecture her on the balance of social life versus working life. She absent-mindedly rubbed her stomach as she looked around the large open spaced brewery chain in which she was seated. The baby was already beginning to kick wildly and she’d barely reached five months into the pregnancy. She secretly hoped it would be a boy. As much as she loved her three girls, a little boy would complete her world.
Felicity hovered in the wooden doorframe of the bar, scanning the various seating areas for Zara. It didn’t take her long to locate the small brunette woman with the large pregnancy bump sat against a high backed leather chair.
“Hello sweet, hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” Felicity bent down to kiss Zara’s cheek.
“I’m surprised you recognised me given that I’ve put on almost a stone in the past two weeks.” Zara chuckled, cheeks reddening as she caught the smirk that flashed across Felicity’s face.
Felicity sat down and picked up the bar menu, eyes sweeping across the choices. “You do look rather fat. That baby is going to be a monster child if you’re not careful. How you plan to get it out of you is beyond me.”
Zara rolled her eyes at Felicity’s matter-of-fact comment. She had always had an uncanny way of cutting straight to the point without bearing thought to how her words might be interpreted. That was Felicity for you. Direct and unsympathetic.
“Actually, I’m already booked in for a Caesarean delivery – especially after my last labour, they advised me it would be better for me this time.”
Zara signalled to a waiter as she leaned across Felicity to look at the menu options. As much as she wanted to order a hamburger she would have to resist. Felicity would never let her hear the end of it if she ordered a calorie loaded lunch. She had already made it clear only last week on the telephone that she thought Zara should take more care with her weight and appearance.
