by JA Low
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well I’m surprised, but I still don’t get why we are here.”
“We are taking a helicopter to the event.” Emily looks at me in disbelief.
“But why?” She asks, stepping from the car.
“Because who wants to be stuck in a car for two hours.” She shrugs as if my answer makes sense.
“I’ve never been in one before.” Really? Her ex really was a dickhead. The pilot meets us and opens the door for Emily to get in; she looks at the step and then her dress. Okay, I didn’t think that one through. Before she realises I pick her up into my arms making her squeal. I lift her up and step onto the step and place her inside. After she is secure, I rush around to the other side and jump in. The pilot hands her the headphones, and she mouths, “Thank you”.
“Testing, testing,” the pilot talks into the headphones. “Welcome aboard, the flight to Monaco tonight should only take fifteen minutes.” Before we know it we are up in the air and zooming along the coastline in minutes. I keep looking over at Emily whose face is planted against the glass. The pilot pointing out landmarks; the bright lights of the Monte Carlo casinos come into view, the luxury yachts that line the shore. It’s not long and we are slowly landing at the heliport where another limousine is waiting for us. I hold out my arms to her to help her out of the helicopter and she takes them. I spin her around which makes her giggle. She slowly slides down my body, her warm, soft flesh against mine, we both stay in the moment maybe for a little longer than is professional, but it feels nice, right. I take her hand and pull her toward the limousine, it’s not far to the gala, not enough time for me to do all the things that I would love to do to her.
“So, are you ready for tonight?” she asks looking over at me.
“No,” I confess. She reaches out and places her hand on my thigh lightly, my body reacting to her touch.
“Do we need a safeword just in case?”
“In case of what? Is Christian Grey going to be there?” Now I’m starting to panic, her fingers dig into my leg noticing.
“Everything is going to be fine and I wish Christian Grey was going to be there.” I file that away. “But it might be nice to have a backup plan in case you are put into a situation you are not comfortable with.” She’s right. “You’re a viral sensation now. There might be some rich ladies that might want to touch.” My heart begins to beat a little faster. They wouldn’t, would they?
“How about sunflowers as the safeword?” I tell her. She smiles.
“Sunflowers is perfect.”
We have arrived. The driver opens my door and then hers. I hold out my hand for her, she takes it as she steps out of the limousine, the flashes of the paparazzi go off. She squeezes my hand nervously.
“It’s going to be okay.” I try and reassure her, but in truth it’s me that needs the reassurance. I don’t let go of her hand as we walk the red carpet. Just having her close to me is giving me strength to walk along the red carpet answering mundane questions about my art from the reporters.
“Louis, Louis,” the paparazzi shout at me. The flashes continue to go off around us. I wave and smile for them, but I don’t stop, I’m not ready for their inappropriate questions. “Louis, is this your girlfriend? Miss, Miss, who are you?” They start to hound Emily, she tries to let go of my hand, not wanting to add fuel to the fire but my hand grips her tighter. I pull her away from the vultures and finish the red carpet. Once our names are ticked off the guest list we walk into the grand ballroom where the charity gala is being held. Tonight we are raising money for the Monte Carlo Art Society which funds some great art therapy projects.
“Wow, this is…” Emily’s jaw is on the floor.
“I know it’s spectacular.”
“Is that…?” I follow where she is looking.
“Yes that is the Prince, would you like to meet him?” She shakes her head.
“No, no. I can’t. Maybe later.” I was nervous too when I first attended one of these events, but when there are so many you become immune to the opulence of it all, but seeing it through fresh eyes is nice. I want to show her everything, introduce her to everyone. I want to help her become part of this world. Because she deserves to be here too.
19
Emily
Tonight has been unforgettable. Me, at a casino in Monte Carlo, mingling with royalty, socialites, politicians and the art society elite. At first, Louis was very apprehensive, but as the night went on and there was no sign of Yves and Elisabeth turning up, he eventually relaxed. Seeing him in his element, charming everyone, dealing with some handsy women who wanted to ‘talk’ to him was amazing. I took photos of the event and loaded it online and I wrote about raising money for art therapy programmes, adding the links to the various societies’ information and hopefully bringing some more awareness to the cause from people who can’t afford the one thousand euro ticket.
“Now, Louis, is this your girlfriend?” an older gentleman asks.
“She’s way too smart to date me. Emily is helping me prepare for my next exhibition in New York at the end of the summer.” The older couple nod in my direction.
“Do you paint, my dear?” the older man asks.
“I dare not call myself an artist, but I paint to relax.” The older man chuckles.
“Yes. I am the same. We all can’t be made for greatness like this man here.” The older man pats Louis on the back.
“Emily tells me I’m her favourite artist, and I guess she would know, she has an art history degree.” I roll my eyes at Louis as he teases me again over my confession. The older couple laugh at Louis’ joke then utter their well wishes and move onto someone else.
“Would you stop telling everyone I’m your biggest fan, they probably think I’m some art groupie.”
“Aw come on, Emily, I know you have a poster of me up on your wall at home.” He gives me a wink.
“Yes, I throw darts at it. I’m a pretty good shot now.” Louis smiles at me, his eyes look over my shoulder and he stills. His face turns pale, I turn around to see what has spooked him and notice that Yves and Elisabeth have arrived. He can’t take his eyes off of them.
“Sunflowers?” I use the safeword but he’s lost, he’s not paying any attention to me anymore. There’s a soft murmur amongst the crowd as people realise what is happening. Elisabeth is dressed in a stunning off the shoulder red evening dress, with a slit that ends at her hip, exposing her long, toned, tanned legs. She looks like a goddess; no wonder Louis is still so hung up on her. Yves is a lot younger than her, but is equally as good looking, dressed in a tuxedo, his face is unshaven, his tattoos peeking out of the luxury material, a gold earring and a hardened face. You can see why they call him the bad boy of the art world. Then I see the moment that Elisabeth notices Louis, the hitch in her body gives it away that she’s affected by him. I don’t like the way she’s looking at him, as if he’s a tasty treat that she hasn’t had in a while.
“Louis, are you okay?” I step in front of him. He shakes his head as if coming out of a trance.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He seems confused.
“Do you want to go?” He looks over my shoulder one last time. “No, I’m fine. I might just go to the bathroom though.” I nod and watch as he hastily makes his way out of the room.
He’s been gone for a while now, and I’m becoming concerned. I make my way to the bathrooms and wait out there for a couple of moments hoping people don’t think I’m being creepy.
“Excuse me, is Louis Marchant in there?” I ask a man as he leaves the bathroom, that’s how desperate I’ve become. He shakes his head. Where the hell is he? I do another loop of the room but he isn’t there. Maybe he’s out in the garden. Ugh, I am going to kill him when I find him. I’ve texted him and no luck. I’ve called him and nothing. I pace around the garden but I can’t find him. Now I’m beginning to worry. Last time this happened he was screwing some woman in the bushes. My stomach sinks. No, he wouldn’t do
that to me, would he? He’s single, Emily, he can do whoever he wants. That realisation stings a little, but maybe it’s for the best. Just because you have both been joking around the past week and no longer at each other’s throats doesn’t mean he fancies you. I’m such an idiot.
“You must be Marchant’s new girl.” The voice comes from behind me in the darkness, surprising me. I turn and see Yves standing behind me, smoking a cigarette. His eyes lazily looking me over.
“And you are the other man.” I look around and realise I’m in a darkened part of the garden, with no one around, with my boss’ arch nemesis.
“I see he’s brainwashed you.” He lets out a puff of his cigarette.
“Oh no. I formed that opinion all by myself.” Yves raises a brow at me.
“You’re very beautiful.” The change of direction catches me off guard. “Marchant always had good taste in women.” What a creep, my stomach turns with repulsion.
“Well, I hope you have a good evening.” I move away from him, but he blocks my exit.
“Why leave so soon? We were just getting to know each other.” His finger runs down my arm, and I pull it away quickly.
“I’m okay.” I look for another escape route.
“You won’t find him.” He smirks at me, but I don’t answer. “Last time I saw Marchant he had disappeared with Elisabeth.” My stomach falls. No. No he wouldn’t, would he? Yves catches my moment of weakness.
“I’m surprised you’re not running after your girlfriend then.” He moves closer to me, I try and shuffle away.
“Elisabeth and I have an understanding.” He touches my hair; I take a couple of steps backward. “If we see someone we want, then we can have them.” He throws his cigarette to the floor.
“I’m not really interested in your relationship.” I move to the side but a bush blocks my path.
“And you know what I want?” He stalks toward me. Shit, shit, shit. “I want you tonight.” He grabs my arm and pulls me against him, I bounce off his chest, but his arm is tight across me. I try and push myself away from him but his grip on my arm is too tight.
“Let go of me,” I tell him firmly.
“No.” He smiles at me. “What’s Marchant’s is mine.” He tries to kiss me but I kick him in the balls. “Fucking bitch.” He lashes out, ripping the sleeve of my dress as he tries to grab me. My heart is racing as I move from his grip, this dress costs a fortune and now it’s ruined. Tears threaten as I run as quickly as I can back toward the party, but in my panic I trip over the garden’s edge, falling harshly against the cement, ripping the sleeves of my dress even further, blood begins to drip down my white dress from the cuts on my elbows. Shit. I look at the red splatter across the stark white material
“Emily.” I see Louis racing down the stairs. “Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you for ages.” He notices my torn sleeves and the blood against my dress. His hand reaches out and touches the torn fabric. His face is torn with confusion. “You’re hurt.”
“I just want to go, Louis.” Tears fall down my cheeks. He notices my distress. His hand touches me and I flinch. “Sunflowers, Louis.” I use our safeword. Movement behind me catches his attention.
“You do have great taste in women, Marchant,” Yves calls behind me. Louis looks down at me, devastation then anger flies across his face. “Did he?” A look must come across my face that tells Louis everything he needs to know and he tries to lunge at Yves, but I stop him putting myself in between them. Louis doesn’t need a public punch up with his ex-wife’s lover in the middle of a society gala. “Did you fucking touch her?” Louis’ voice rises as he fumes at Yves.
“Nothing she didn’t want,” Yves replies back cockily. Louis looks at me, trying to work out if I would do something with his nemesis.
“I would never.” The words come out in the softest of whispers. “Please…Louis.” I tug on his tuxedo. “Sunflowers. Sunflowers, Louis.” His body is primed for a fight, but I use my safeword again, I need to get him out of here. I tug on his suit one last time, his arm comes out and wraps around my shoulders, pulling me close to him as he escorts me out. I try and hold it all in, but as soon as the door closes on the limousine and I know I am safe the tears falls. Louis pulls me into his lap and holds me tight.
“I’m so sorry, Emily. I should never have left you. I am so sorry.” I bury my face into his chest and cry.
20
Louis
Seeing the ripped sleeve of Emily’s dress and the smug look on Yves’ face, never in my life have I wanted to kill someone like I did him at that moment. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he attack Emily like that? I’m going to have to talk to Daniel about this. Thankfully, Emily pulled me away from him because it would have been the best excuse to lay my fists into his smug face. When Emily used her safeword to get away from him, I knew my priority was her well-being. The moment we stepped into the limousine, Emily broke down, her lithe body shaking, shock setting in. Her normally creamy skin turned alabaster, all the colour draining from her body. I pull her into my lap, hoping it lets her know she’s safe, that I promise I won’t let anyone hurt her ever again. I can’t believe I let him hurt her in the first place. I feel sick that I brought this disgusting human being into her life. Emily buries her face into my chest, my arms wrap around her, protecting her, holding her. I tell her over and over again that she is safe, that I promise that he won’t ever touch her again.
“I…” She starts to explain pulling away from me, her mascara run tears fall over her cheeks. My palms cups her face.
“You don’t have to apologise to me.” Those bright green eyes widen. “That man is a predator. Scum. He isn’t a real man.”
“I was trying to find you when he found me. You said you needed the bathroom and then…I lost you.” Shit. Some man had pulled me into a conversation about football, I hadn’t realised the time until he was called away. Fuck. “I would never…not with him.” My thumb wipes away the tears that fall. I kiss her cheeks ever so softly.
“I know.” I may not have known her for long, but I believe her.
“He said you were with…Elisabeth.”
“What? No. Never.” What is Yves playing at?
“They have an arrangement.” I’m a little shocked. Elisabeth was extremely jealous of women who flirted with me; little did I know she was screwing around on me with everyone else. I could have taken up the many offers thrown my way but I never did. What a fool. “He said, that if they want someone they are allowed to…” Her body starts to shiver. This is not the Elisabeth that I know. Am I shocked? No. Because in all honesty it sounds like I never knew my ex-wife. “He said he wanted me.” She looks up at me, those emerald eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “I told him no.” Her body is shaking now, her hands rest on my chest. “I told him I wasn’t interested.” I want to kill him. Where the hell does he get off thinking he can touch a woman when she says no? Both of my hands cup her face, because I need her to listen to me, really listen to me.
“This is not your fault, Emily.” Those eyes stay wide as I speak. “He is a sick individual who thinks that because he is famous that he can do whatever the fuck he wants, but he can’t.” My thumb wipes away some more tears. “No man should ever force himself onto a woman, ever. And if I had my chance, I would have fucking killed him. I will not allow him to touch someone that is not his, do you hear me?” She gives me the slightest of nods. “I promise it will never happen again. You’re safe with me.” Emily nods in understanding, my hands fall away from her face and wrap around her, pulling her close to me. We stay like that all the way home.
It doesn’t take us long to arrive back home from Monte Carlo, I make my way around the limousine and hold my hand out for her and she takes it giving me a small smile. Thankfully she’s stopped shaking. It could have been the couple shots of vodka we found in the mini fridge of the limousine that settled her nerves. I don’t let go of her hand as we move through the dark corridors of my home. We stop outside her door, and
I finally let go of her hand.
“I can run you a bath if you like.” She gives me a smile but shakes her head.
“Thank you, but I think I might just grab a shower and head straight to bed.” Neither of us move for a couple of moments.
“Okay. I’m just down the hall if you need me,” I tell her, she nods sucking her lip between her teeth. Emily pushes open her bedroom door and disappears through it. Letting out a heavy sigh, I make my way to my own room where I close my door. My back hits the wall and I take a moment, the tuxedo starts to suffocate me so I desperately pull it off, throwing on a white t-shirt and grey trackpants. I find my phone and call Daniel. I start to aggressively pace my room until he picks up.
“Hey, I hear the night was a success,” Daniel answers happily.
“That fucker touched Emily.” My nostrils flare with hate. There’s a couple of silent moments before Daniel speaks again.
“What are you talking about?”
“He ripped Emily’s dress.” The words come out stilted. “I wanted to kill him.” I rake my hand through my hair.
“Louis, calm down. I don’t know what you're trying to say.” My chest is heaving, I’m sure there is steam coming out of my ears.
“Yves. He touched Emily.”
“What the fuck?” Daniel fumes on the other end of the phone. “What happened?”
“Emily was in the garden. I had gone to the bathroom but on the way out someone pulled me into a conversation. She came looking for me. But…fuck…I left her alone, Daniel. I thought she would be safe. I didn’t think…” My words get louder as I pace the room.
“What the hell is he playing at?”
“He’s fucking with me.” Now I sound paranoid, but I’ve been thinking about this for months. Why would he screw me over like he did? We were practically brothers. Yes, Elisabeth is beautiful, but…I know Yves hasn’t had the best childhood, especially growing up in a refugee camp. The stories he told us of his time there, about his alcoholic father, his mother who had mental problems and was abusive. The things he saw, the horrors. I guess that pain is why his art is so good, the emotion is there. When I found him peddling his wares on the tourist streets of Montmartre, I saw his raw talent, I knew he was a diamond in the rough. I gave him the opportunity to build a better life for him and his family. But looking back now, the writing may have been on the wall, he told me one night how jealous he was that I had someone like Elisabeth, that someone loved me so completely, he didn’t know what that felt like. At the time I felt sorry for him that he had not been able to experience real love. But maybe he was telling me he was jealous that Elisabeth loved me and not him. Did he have his sights set on her from day one? I did always tease Elisabeth about it, thinking Yves had a crush on her. She would laugh then tell me she was flattered that a hot younger man thought she was still desirable. I’m guessing that was the start of the end for us, she needed the attention of others more than she did from me. I now realise that I wasn’t enough for her, that her extreme insecurities fed her to seek attention from others. We were always doomed.
