Dare To Win (Sex, Sin and Secrets Book 1)

by Williamson, R. G

  “It’s not so much the gifts, they were amazing, and I did think for a split second that maybe I could take him up on his dinner offer. But then he went and ruined everything by writing childish notes that made having dinner with him sound like a challenge for him to win. He’s all about winning.” As I try to explain to Emily how his whole dinner invite made me feel, the words I can imagine sound petty and ridiculous. Maybe I had taken his notes the wrong way? So I’m not surprised to find myself saying to Emily, “Maybe he really wasn’t being an arse, and maybe on Monday morning I should ring his office and apologise and ask him out for dinner. I’d love to see his face with that turnaround, ha who knows, maybe he’ll turn me down.” I look wryly at her.

  “That’s a lot of maybes,” she replies and gives me a hug and then makes me laugh with her “Just remember beautiful, YOLO.”

  “And there was me thinking I was sounding ridiculous!” I laugh poking her in the ribs. Feeling a bit better about the whole thing, we go in search of some more drinks.

  As we head to the bar generally having a good time, I stop dead in my tracks. I swear to God that’s Mr Dare on the dance floor with his tongue down that girl’s throat. And where for the love of God has his hand disappeared to?

  Emily realises I’m not beside her and comes back to pull me along. She follows my eye and then looks back at me quizzically.

  “What’s up Kari?” she asks leaning into my ear, “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

  Oh God. Now do I tell her that the man I can’t take my eyes off is Mr Flowers, Chocolates and Badly Written Dinner Invitations man or do I stay quiet? She might literally frog march over there and give him an ear bashing or she might fall at his feet like every other female seems to do. Tonight I don’t think I could handle it if she does either.

  “You’re my best friend right?” I shout into her ear.

  “Yes, you know this already doofus.”

  “What I tell you next you need to promise me two things.”

  “I promise,” she shouts looking at me with a worried expression.

  “You are not to go do anything stupid and you are not to get all mushy and sexed up.”

  “OMG I need to know where this is going Kari. What’s going on?”

  “That man over there. See the dark haired tall man, all dressed in black like the bloody Milk Tray man with his tongue near coming out that girl’s hoo-ha? That is Mr Dare.”

  “Oh my fucking God! You’re kidding me right?”

  “Sadly no. Looks like he got over me real quick doesn’t it,” I reply a bit dejectedly. It was like seeing a car crash. On one hand it was awful to see but on the other hand I couldn’t look away.

  “Come on chicken. We need a drink and some more shots.” She drags me over to the bar.

  We secretly sink two more double shots. I have a real buzz going on now. So what if he’s on the pull with someone else already. I don’t have any claim or stake on him. But then why does it feel like a sword has been thrust through my chest?

  We get the next round in and back it up with another round of shots for everyone too, we’ve been gone a while so we head back to the table. I am kicking myself but I can’t help myself looking for him on the dance floor again. I’m doubly kicking myself that I feel sad that I can’t find him, how stupid is that! Arghhhh that man has me feeling all sorts of things and yet he appears to be completely indifferent. I sigh and take my seat. Any feeling of wanting to dance the night away has vanished. I just want to get completely and utterly, blindingly drunk.

  I sit quietly listening to the girls banter back and forth and while I am listening I find myself searching Mr Smug out again. And oh my God there is he on the table opposite us. He’s not too close but close enough that I can see pretty much what he’s up to.

  That sword I could feel before, well that’s now a red hot poker being stabbed continually into my chest in synch with my erratic heartbeat. He’s got hoo-ha girl sat on his lap and I’d swear on any deposition that they are having sex!

  I can’t let him see me, or let on that I’ve noticed him. I think I saw his friend look over this way but he can’t know who I am, surely? He’s probably just been checking out all the eye candy on our table. I stupidly do another quick glance and Mr Smug’s now nuzzling hoo-ha girl’s neck and looking like he’s just had a great time.

  Glad one of us is.

  My night has been officially ruined. I feel such an idiot for even thinking of maybe giving him another chance. I feel Emily gently squeeze my leg, she’s watching me, watching him. I shake myself out of my mini pity party and get back to my girlfriends. I try to block him out of my thoughts as I down yet another round of shots.

  Two more shots later because yes I am sinking them faster than the Titanic, I look up and find Mr Smug Bastard, (and yes he’s earned the added bastard badge in my world tonight), strutting his stuff like Justin Timberlake, he’s heading right towards our table.

  Oh shit, did he realise I was here? Does he know I saw him with that girl? Did he even care?

  The next thing I know, he throws a card down in front of me, doesn’t say a word, winks and walks off.

  I don't swear often. But...

  What.

  The.

  Fuckity fuck!

  Looks like I’m not the only one thinking that. Tara’s eyes are bugging out and her chin is currently wiping the floor.

  Lisa and Carly sit frozen like tranquilised zombies.

  Sofia has missed it all as she’s busy chatting to her new best friend, a bottle of blue WKD.

  Ruth is whacking Emily on the arm while shouting, “Who was that? Who was that?”

  Emily’s gone all protective, has pounced on the card, nabbing it before anyone else can.

  And me? I’m in as bad shape as all of them put together, well, all except for Sofia. I truly wish I was in her wonderful drunk bubble at the moment.

  Next I find myself yanking the card out of Emily’s hand. I am aware she’s got her phone out. Is she ringing him to give him a mouthful over his shameless dance display? I wouldn’t put it past her.

  I sit and stare at the card. It’s his business card again, exactly the same as the ones he’s been delivering with his gifts. Why did he throw me this? Emily spies my confusion and gently flips the card over showing me what’s on the reverse.

  He’s written down his private number.

  In your dreams asshole! You practically, well almost certainly, have sex right in front of me and then give me your number? Seriously what the hell am I supposed to think from this gesture? I shove the card into my purse and try to forget about it. There’s more important things to do at the moment, like sink as much alcohol as necessary to find the numbness my brain is so desperately begging for.

  Salut!

  ***

  Somehow I’ve made it home, well I think I’m home? I absolutely cannot focus so I have no idea to be honest. I really don’t care either. My alcoholic haze is buffering my broken heart. Yes I did say broken heart. I’m drunk, so I’m allowed to be overly dramatic.

  I fling myself onto the bed and groan. That was a bad move. I gently roll over to my side and spy my open purse. Jesus can’t that man leave me alone for five minutes, because there, half hanging out, is his card taunting me. I lean forward and grab it. Then I fish around for my phone because I need to do what any sane drunk person would do. I need to make a drunk call before I pass out.

  I’m all fingers and thumbs as I dial the number scrawled on the back.

  It rings.

  And rings.

  And carries on ringing.

  He’s not answering.

  Bastard.

  In a drunken fit, I rip the stupid business card up into teeny tiny pieces and then blackness pulls me into its clutches.

  ***

  I wake up extremely groggy. Well I think this is called awake even though I feel like I’m still in an alcoholic trance. Just how much had
I drunk the night before? My stomach is currently experiencing what turbulence is like at thirty thousand feet, I feel dreadful. I can’t face the thought of even swallowing two little pain relief pills let alone the full English breakfast that I should eat to soak up the fumes still swirling in my stomach. I manage to get to a sitting position and I honestly feel like I’m swaying. In all probability I am and I groan. I scrunch my eyes shut to block out any motion that I may or may not be doing, sadly it doesn’t help me at all.

  The door bursts open and in walks Emily as bright as an annoying button.

  “Jeez Kari, you really don’t look well at all.”

  “No shit Sherlock.” I deadpan and then clutch my head with another groan. Speaking is far too energetic and loud. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever felt this bad after a night out. Come to think of it, I honestly don’t think I’ve ever felt this bad.

  Emily looks at me sympathetically, “Come on let’s get you up and some food in you. I’ll go put some toast on while you go freshen up.

  I just about make it to the bathroom as I lean and claw my way along the walls. The nasty going on in my mouth is top priority so I grab my toothbrush and clean the clinging aftermath of disgusting alcohol halitosis. It takes me three go’s till I feel some semblance of fresh and clean. I then wash my face to try and make myself feel human again and I do, in all honesty, feel nought point five percent better.

  I shuffle back to the bedroom and grab a pair of jogging bottoms and a tank top and slip them on. I can smell the toast from the kitchen. I apathetically drag my way towards the unappetising aroma to find Emily and hopefully some toasted salvation. Though all it’s making me want to do is retch.

  “You poor thing,” Emily chuckles as I sink into a chair at the table.

  “I don’t know if I can manage any food Em, the smell is literally playing havoc with my queasy stomach.”

  “You’ll be fine after ten minutes,” she said as she placed a big glass of orange juice in front of me and two pills.

  I start by taking tiny, tentative sips and fight the urge to purge what’s going in from coming straight back out and painting the kitchen table. The visual of that isn’t helping me either. God, I’m in a bad way.

  “Okay, let’s try the toast and get it over with. I just want to feel half human again.”

  Half an hour later I do feel a bit more settled, I still feel delicate but the pills are beginning to work their magic and shelter my body from what it’s truly feeling.

  “I think I might go back to bed for a bit, maybe I can sleep this day away and be back to normal tomorrow,” I sigh.

  “You shouldn't you know. You should keep hydrated and eating sensibly. We’ll go for a walk too and get some fresh air.”

  “Ughhh remind me to never, ever, drink as much as I did last night. Seriously, I’m not cut out for this demon size of a hangover.”

  “Well I tried to cut you off several times last night, but you were having none of it. You must ache too. You hit the dance floor like you were auditioning for Got to Dance, I Can Dance and Britain’s Got Talent all on the one night!” Emily laughs.

  “Oh God, I didn’t did I?” I grimace, hugely embarrassed. I don’t think I’ll be showing my face in the Union ever again.

  “After Mr Dare left, you went all out. None of us could keep up with your drinking and the more you drank the more you danced! I’ve never seen you like that in all the time I’ve known you Kari.”

  I sighed, “I can’t believe I felt hurt to see him with that floozy. I can’t get my head around why he seems to affect me so much.”

  Emily leans over and squeezes my hand, “You’re attracted to him and he’s the first person you have had any inclination of letting in since John. So I bet that wasn’t pleasant to see him like that last night.”

  “It’s too strange though, I’ve only met him properly once and then briefly last night, and well I definitely want to forget that, all I can see is him with that girl and what they were no doubt up to. He’s not the sort of man I usually fall for at all, so what is it about him that has me all mixed up? Also why do I feel irritated by his gifts, but love receiving them at the same time?”

  “He’s reciprocating your interest too and part of you loves the attention, but your walls are bouncing your feelings around and leaving you all confused. There is something about him that has you smitten, it’s whether you deny yourself that or go for it and explore it.”

  “Part of me wants to explore it, but another part says don’t be stupid you’ll only get hurt and let’s face it especially after last night, he screams womaniser and I don’t know if I can cope with him or his ways. You know me, I’m an all in sort of girl and I want a relationship that goes beyond a couple of dates. I fear Mr Dare is just an all over type person, as in all over anything that wears a skirt and certified female. I don’t see him as a person that even dates.

  “I think you’re being too hard on yourself and on him too. He showed he is definitely still interested, he left you his card again, so that’s proof he hasn’t given up on you. It’s whether you can just have a little fun and relax or you really can’t have dinner with someone with the possibility of no further advance after that.” She squeezes my hand again and gives me an encouraging smile and then starts rising from the table. “Come on, go get cleaned up and let’s go for that walk and clear some fog from your brain.”

  I head back to the bedroom. I sit on the bed to put my socks on and notice the torn up pieces of card. I am just so confused at my feelings in this cat and mouse game. I mean, should I bother getting involved with a man who quite clearly isn’t the kind to be faithful let alone being the settling down type? I want the dream, the house in the country, the white picket fence and the kids running round a huge garden. I don’t think Mr Dare sees any further than getting his leg over and I know that means if I pursue anything with him, I will get my heart-broken. It took so long to pick myself up and feel normal again after John that I don’t think I could survive it a second time.

  I gather up the pieces. I think I know what I should do with them.

  NINE

  Plan What?

  I’ve spent all weekend in the foulest of moods. I cannot believe I was so stupid on Friday night. What the fuck is wrong with me to think its okay to fuck a girl in a pub when I’m trying to present myself as a good guy to another girl who I actually do want to get to know better. She hasn’t phoned or texted despite me giving her my number. I actually think I may have blown it. I don’t know how much Miss West saw that night, but let’s face facts, if I’d seen her all over some bloke, I’d walk away from her without a second thought.

  I’m not looking forward to going to work today. I cannot change what I did but I can’t help hoping that if she saw anything then she would see that it was technically her fault. If she had said yes to dinner when I first asked then we would have been the ones having fun together instead of me being out on the pull. I’m glad I left before she confronted me in case she’s the crying type. A crying woman always makes me feel shit. I’m also glad I left while blondie was in the toilet. Oh God I’m such a fuckwit!

  I’ve also dodged George all weekend because I left him at the Union and he was expecting me to go to the club with him. I just couldn’t do it. These feelings I’ve got are totally alien to me. I think they are called regret.

  Driving into work is not helping my mood either. Every idiot is on the road. Don’t they know some of us have jobs where people’s lives are at stake? Okay well that’s maybe slightly over-dramatic but their liberty is certainly at stake. I look at the clock on the dashboard and realise that I’m not going to make it to the office and then back through this traffic to attend court. Damn and fucking blast.

  I switch lanes and promptly get blasted by someone’s horn which I respond with the internationally recognised one finger gesture, which earns me another blast of the tosser’s horn. Fuck off twat.

  As I pull into the
car park at the court, I spot Susie’s car. I hope she’s got all my paperwork for today because I honestly don’t think I could ask her nicely to go back and get it. I’m more likely to rip her fucking head off and spit down her throat. Fuck, I am so pissed off.

  “Hi Connor, I came straight here without waiting for you because for some reason the traffic is a nightmare today and I didn’t want to be late,” she explains.

  “Yeah the traffic’s been an absolute bitch. Have you got the files with you because I haven’t been to the office this morning? I came straight here.”

  “Yes of course,” she replies indignantly as if I would dare to suggest to her that she wouldn’t have. “I did leave you a message,” she adds pointedly.

  “Well I didn’t get any message,” I snap at her. Shit I should have checked my messages.

  Susie, wisely, ignores my retort. “You’re down to three cases this morning because one has been adjourned due to the prosecution asking for more time,” she advises me frostily. “Do you want to know who the prosecutor is on that case?”

  I shake my head no, because I don’t even have to ask, I instinctively know it will be the maddening Miss West. Ah bollocks.

  “Come on Susie, let’s rock and roll,” and I walk off towards the Court.

  ***

  Due to the adjourned case this morning, court was over quicker than anticipated and to be honest that was a relief. I’ve just clocked up another three wins and my bad mood has lifted slightly, though it would have been four if Miss West had her shit together and hadn’t got the case adjourned for later on this month. Maybe she’s learned her lesson from last time, no stone left unturned, never take anything or anyone for granted and always research your opponent. All the things she hadn’t done. I sense she’s not the sort of bird that likes losing and I’m sure she will do her damndest not to let it happen again when we next come up against each other. I had got back to the office in good time too, helped by the fact the god awful traffic had lightened up.