He pauses. He’s thinking, and he’s dangerous when he’s doing that.
“What sort of correspondence?” Oh shitty, shit. “Are you working for Mr Prick or something Liz… thought you hated him now?”
I crumple my eyes tight. “Some car rental information… from when I went to Scotland. It was in my handbag and I thought I’d send it back.” I anxiously zip my mouth before anything else suspicious emerges.
“Oh,” he yawns again. “It was a while ago; let me think.”
Why do you need to think Nathan; because you’ve bedded ten different women since then? My parking ticket runs out in a minute, so hurry up.
“It was Thomas Street,” he says. “That’s it. Nice place she has. Think its number five.”
“Thanks Nathan.” I go to hang-up.
“Hold on,” he wails down the receiver.
“What is it Nathan?” I grumble.
“It’s Boxing Day, do you fancy going out, placing a few quid on the gee-gees.”
“I’ll call you back.” I cut him off fast.
Okay, Thomas Street. I start up the engine. The fact I really love this car is of no relevance I continue to tell myself. Even though it is amazing and drives like a dream, it’s tainted by him and his money.
***
I indicate and turn left onto Thomas Street. It’s a long road with old mills, shops, and houses to each side of me. I drive slow, eyes scouring the buildings for numbers. I see a hair salon, with the number 67 on the door. So I guess I’m on the right side.
I continue on and countdown. I reach number thirteen, and have been stuck behind this stupid red bus for the past five minutes. It’s been pulling in and out using no indication at all, and is taking up the entire road.
The bus moves into the curb, so boldly I put my foot down to overtake it. I manage to squeeze through a gap that’s big enough for one car only. As soon as I pull out in front I see it, Adrien’s Land Rover, parked up outside number five.
Don’t put two and two together Liz, tis a hazardous combination.
He wouldn’t would he? Would he give me this car and fuck Sara on the same day? We aren’t an item, so I guess he’s free to do as he pleases. I shouldn’t give a rats-ass, but I do. I’m beyond irrational right now. I am turning into the female version of Hulk.
I stop behind his car and shutdown the engine. My speeding heart rate is taking my breath away. I look up at the red and white brick, three story townhouse. I inhale and blow out. All I’m going to do, is hand over the keys and flag down a cab to take me home.
My legs tremor as I pull out the brass knocker and bang it three times. I peer down at the pavement, fidgeting. The door flies open. Sara looks at me in astonishment, dressed in just a t-shirt. She has no make-up on her face and her hair is, well what can I say, sex hair. I hear laughing and joking coming from the emerald green stairwell right behind her. I have the sudden urge to thump her in the face. I screw my fists into a tight ball, and have to hold my arms against my thighs firmly to stop myself.
“Elizabeth,” she squeals with big eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Right Liz, just give the keys to her and walk away from this mess.
“Please can you give these to Mr Knight?” I slam the keys in her hand. “Tell him I have a car, and don’t need his big fancy gifts.” I turn away, wanting to burst in anger.
“Wait Elizabeth,” she yells.
I flick my head to her, holding in air while gritting my teeth. I wait as she pulls her door shut, so no one inside can hear. She takes a step to me, then another. She comes any closer, I will not be responsible for my actions.
“Mr Knight hasn’t been in touch because he’s been having a few problems at work,” she rushes. “He would really like you to keep the car.” She holds out the keys.
“Problems at work… problems that you two have been thrashing around in there to figure out,” I bark. “I really don’t care if you two are, as Adrien would say, fuck-buddies.” I’m totally lying. “You can have him… he’s an asshole!”
“Elizabeth,” she appeals.
“Piss-off Sara.”
I walk fast, shoving away anyone in my path. I don’t want her to see me weak, with tears streaming over him.
I stride by people queuing at the bus stop, when I’m suddenly swung around by my bicep. It’s Adrien, witnessing his destruction. He’s gasping for breath with tapered eyes. Still in tears, I hang my head down. His shirt is open and he has nothing on his feet. It’s confirmed; he’s a scumbag. He was simply using me, and is now banging his PA.
He wheezes over me as I close my eyes. So what, even if we weren’t serious, the thought of another touching his skin has created a demon in me. An evil obsession.
“Elizabeth.”
He has one of his headaches. His body is all tense and he’s wincing. Good.
“Please listen.” He rubs his eyes with his thumb and finger.
I swiftly face the road and hail down a cab, but it’s in use. He squeezes my arm, refusing to let me go.
“This is not what you think,” he says. “Please look at me,” he asks, desperately.
I choke on my tears and peer up at him. He has glassy pupils and looks very ill. I cannot let myself feel anything other than revulsion. I will not feel sorry for him. But it’s so hard. I’m in love with him. That is now crystal-clear to me.
“You cannot buy me, use me, and toss me aside when you’re done,” I say faintly.
“Shit… I never did any of those things to you,” his voice splinters. “Well, kind of… but Elizabeth, it wasn’t done on purpose.”
“Yes it was!”
How can he say that; it’s exactly what he’s done? He’s the fuck them and chuck them type, and I failed to see it. Now I’m stood in the street crying like a fool over him.
“Elizabeth… I need to talk to you,” he appeals. “And I can’t do that out here, come inside,” he asks in a needy way.
“No,” I snap. “I don’t want the car… I want to forget I ever met you.” I pause watching his body shrink, and have to look away before he weakens me.
I hold my arm out in the icy air, and as if it could read my needs, a black cab pulls right up beside my boots. I jump in and slam the door, refusing to look at him.
Chapter 18: NYE
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’ve been sat for the majority of day in my heated rollers, green hoody, and leggings. I’ve completed my dissertation, which I have to admit, I’m really stoked with. My placement applications have been filled in. And now Cate is making me dizzy, whizzing in and out of her room, getting ready for the big bash at Nathan’s.
There was no point in saying no to the invite. It wasn’t even open for discussion. He throws a party this time every year, and every year we go. Besides, I need to get out of this flat before I start drowning in depression again.
Over the past week, I spent three whole days sick in bed. Didn’t eat or venture out for anything other than fluids. My poor bed has felt the brunt of my despair. It’s been punched, clawed, and sobbed into.
It took just ten minutes of Cate’s time to convince me I have to at least try to get on with my life. She charged into my room like a woman obsessed, and dragged me from my bed. She shoved me in front of my full-length mirror, and held my shoulders so I couldn’t escape. I looked pitiful, gaunt, and pasty. My hair was even beginning to form scruffy dreads. I smelt like an old woman, and it was clear I had lost weight. She slammed my placement applications on my dressing table, and told me I’m throwing my life away over some wanker who doesn’t deserve the effort. ‘Toughen the fuck up,’ she yelled. She really thought I might die if I didn’t eat something soon.
So I took her advice, and this is where I’m at right now. I haven’t shed a single tear in a whole day, and I’ve kind of enjoyed keeping my mind busy. I even have a new dress for tonight, and some new black lace covered ankle boots.
“Chop-chop.” Cate claps her hands, dashing back into her room with a mint facema
sk caked all over her face.
After removing the big barrel rollers, I apply a little lip-gloss and eyeliner. I pull the little black dress over my shoulders and wiggle. It’s sleeveless, with a high net neck and back. And it comes in at the waist to flare out, skater style. I slip on and zip up my ankle boots, grab my tiny shoulder bag, and exit before Cate has a hernia because our taxi is waiting outside.
“Yay, there she is.” Cate smiles by the door.
Cate has been preparing for this since first light. She’s had her fingernails French polished, her eyebrows waxed, and hair coloured and cut. She’s wearing a new, I have to say tasteful red dress, and she’s carrying her brand new Michael Kors handbag that Pete gave her for Christmas. He has now gone from a zero to hero over the holidays. It pains me to say, but I think she’s warming to him in the way she said she never would.
***
We arrive outside the substantial building. It’s an old Victorian factory which has been converted into magnificent apartments. I remember viewing it with Nathan. He was like a kid in a sweet shop. The place is huge, with the original red brick and sandstone exposed. It’s spacious and open-plan, with warm solid wood floors throughout, and ceiling beams on show. The windows are authentic, with great black framed glass panels set into each archway. And the open kitchen is unique. Made from rustic wood, with a splash of high-tech.
We stand in the open steel elevator, ascending slowly up to apartment four. I can hear the DJ on the mic, and the melodic dubstep beat. Our journey ends with a dull squeal of metal rubbing metal. A guy dressed in a navy suit slides the heavy door open for us, and he receives a sultry smile from Cate.
We make our way down the corridor where partygoers come and go from Nathan’s pad. The music is loud and bassy. It’s good, and makes me move a little to the beat. Cate links up to my arm with a gasp of excitement, like this is her first night out in months.
“Look at all these hotties,” she squeaks.
“What happened to Pete?”
“Well, do you see a ring?” Her brows bob.
We go through the grey door. There has to be at least one hundred people here already, and it’s only early. I look to the ten foot bar Nathan had fitted last year; his pride and joy. He should quit his job and work in the entertainment industry. He thrives off it, being host and party animal rolled into one, truly is his forte.
“Oh my god, its Tara,” Cate screeches, waving madly. “Go get me a cocktail Liz… err… a Manhattan. I’ll be back in two.” She canters across to her hairdressing friends.
Great, that’s me stuck on my own all night.
I order Cate’s drink and my own, an Apple Mojito. I tried one once when Cate went through her cocktail making phase. As soon as there’s a professional behind the bar shaking his stuff, I may as well give it another go.
“Hi.” A guy nudges me suggestively.
I have no clue who this guy is. He looks a bit too confident for my liking, casting his torso over the wooden surface with assured blue eyes. He actually thinks he’s got a chance with me.
“Oh, the quiet type,” he smarms.
“Fraid so,” I scowl with a side step.
“Well you know what they say about the quiet ones,” he smirks.
I roll my eyes at the sleazebag, then take mine and Cate’s drinks to the tall central beam, before I throw them over my pursuer.
I sip my drink, moving aside the apple peel. It’s so nice. Cold and crisp. Refreshing. Then I see the same guy, still stood against the bar with that, you know you want me look. I huff and turn away, searching for Cate. She’s still wittering on to her friends. I would go over, but I have nothing in common when it comes to talking hair, or men.
I hear boisterous cheering and jeers behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Nathan in the crowded games area. God, he’s such a big kid. He’s playing pool; guaranteed it will be for money.
As he raises his hands high, because he is now champion, he sees me. He beams and makes his way over, excusing himself from his guests. He’s dressed pretty casual. Black jeans, untucked cream shirt, and brown timberland boots.
“Wow, Liz.” He tugs on my fingers. “Sorry for being ignorant, didn’t see or recognise you.” He steps back to look at my dress. “You look so… so.” He’s struggling to find the right words, and I’m uneasy with his attention. “Beautiful.”
“Nathan,” I laugh. “Stop making me feel like an idiot. Can you not remember holding my hair back for me last week, while I puked on your shoes?” I’m trying to put him off, and from the look on his face, it’s working.
“Well, that’s what friends are for isn’t it?”
“Yeah, well, I’m mortified by it.”
He taps his foot to the beat. “Liz, stop it. You forget how well I know you.” He takes my hand. “Come on, I’d like you to meet some of my friends; you’re not standing on your own.”
“Nathan.” I stop moving. “Do I have to?”
“Yes.” He pulls me.
I lumber behind as he guides me to the big boys gaming area. It’s home to a retro pinball machine, pool, Pac-man, and a poker table.
We squeeze through a gathering around the pool table, fivers flying in the air. I freeze in terror. I cannot believe my eyes. Through the billowing smoke, I see Dominic Lawson seven balling his opponent. Oh shit, how the hell do I tell Nathan I already know this guy? He was there witnessing me sign some contract in my blood, so I could sleep with Adrien for Christ sake.
“Hey Dom,” Nathan waves.
Dom winches up his head. He flashes a, well-well-well, look who it is, face.
My face heats up. Jeez, I feel like I’m in trouble here. I’m on the brink of being caught out for doing something totally reckless. If Nathan finds out, I’ll never live it down.
“Dom, this is my best friend, Liz. Known her since we were little brats in high school,” Nathan says.
Dom stubs out his cigarette quickly. “Well hello Red, it’s good to see you again.” I look at the floor as he lifts my hand to kiss my knuckles.
Why the hell did he do that? The hand kissing thing is not a great way to greet me. Especially now Nathan’s eyes have sparked open. I’m clearly panting. My ribs are moving in and out briskly to keep up with my accelerated heart rate.
“Red?” Nathan cocks his brow. “Do you two know each other?”
I give my big eyes behind Nathan’s back and nod anxiously. This is so damn awkward.
“Dom and I met once at The Mill. He knows Adrien don’t you Dom.” I clamp my jaw together tight.
“Yeah… sure,” Dom smiles smugly.
“Okay,” Nathan says, knowing there’s something going on.
Mercifully, one of Nathan’s guests starts to kick the pinball machine and his attention is instantly drawn.
“Hey… hey!” He pushes through the crowd, leaving me alone with Dom.
“So Red,” Dom says. “Are you sticking to the rules of that silly contract, even though you two are, what’s a nice way to put it… through?”
I’m not sticking to nothing. I just don’t want people thinking I’m brain-dead, for signing something for a man that I clearly wasted my time on.
“Hey, stop being so uptight,” he smiles. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I’d be in the shit myself if I did.”
I frown at him. I really don’t understand this secret businessman society thing they’ve got going on. It’s bloody bizarre, and I’m glad I’m away from it.
“He’s a mess,” he says. “You’ve fucked him up in a big way.” He moves his hand up and down over his mouth to indicate Adrien has been hitting the bottle.
“It was him that made the mess.”
“Well, was over the top giving him what for in the middle of Thomas street,” he laughs. “But tickled me seeing one of the best being shot down by a girl.”
Dom was there; listening to everything? Great, he’s seen me turning Hulk. I must have looked and sounded like a complete lunatic.
“But I guess it
serves him right,” he adds.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not very often an Executive wants a Red. I’d say you’re the first in years since Sara signed for Laurie. He should have told you what it entails. But then Laurie was being a jackass when he found out about you… Adrien didn’t have much choice.” He drinks his whisky. “Honesty is the best policy so they say. I guess he must have wanted you bad enough to hide what he is.”
Nothing has been clear-cut since I signed that paper. And I can’t believe Sara is Laurie’s Red; why isn’t she with him? Adrien’s a mess. He really wants me. He’s been hiding things. How the hell do I digest all this? Thing is, right now, I’m trying not to care. I needed this night to be normal. A night I would drink, dance, and celebrate. The first stepping stone in getting over him.
“Liz, he’s one of the good ones is my friend Adrien, and you will understand that one day,” he says seriously. “You’re part of the firm now,” he winks.
Is he pissed? Because he’s talking gobbledygook to me. I’m not part of anything. Just as I’m about to open my mouth to ask what firm he’s referring to, Cate suddenly seizes my arm.
“I’m here, haven’t forgot about you. Tara wouldn’t shut her trap.” Her tongue nearly falls out of her mouth as she lays eyes on Dom.
I’ve seen the same look before. Slutty eyes and the swaying body. She’s pitching herself to him.
“Hi,” she flirts, holding out her hand. “I’m Liz’s friend Cate, and who might you be?”
Oh no-no-no. I’m not going to stand here all night while she tries to get into his pants.
“Call me Dom.” He does the formal hand kissing thing on her and she loves it.
Nathan bounds over to me from the DJ decks. “God, I’m paying that guy good money, you’d think he’d have any song I request.”
I grumble as I hear the first two cords of the song he’s asked for. If this is a joke, it is not funny at all. Are there no other girls here tonight he wants? Why has he requested this song?
I dip my head as he takes my hand and starts to swing it back and forth. He has that sad puppy face on show. It used to work on me well. Until he used it when I found out he’d been snogging the face off some slag call Gemma.
Your Red Always Page 20
