Beholden

by Fox Brison

  “There was,” I said quietly. Draped over her body, I smiled. “However,” I wriggled, “I’m not sure there was an even distribution of resources.” I snaked my hands inside her pyjama top, a heat seeking missile heading for her breasts.

  “I’m fine,” she said, grabbing my arm and I leant back on my elbow.

  “I don’t get it, aren’t you turned on?” I asked, my pride bruised. Maybe I wasn’t as skilful as I thought.

  “Of course I am. I’m so hot right now it’s unreal.”

  “Then why can’t I return the favour? I want to touch you, Adele, I want to hear you gasp with pleasure, pleasure that I’m-”

  “Joanne, I warned you I need to be in control.”

  “Well yes, I know but I didn’t think that meant… This can’t be a one way street, Adele.”

  “It can’t be anything but,” she said baldly.

  I got out of bed and walked to the dresser and leaning back against it, folded my arms across my naked breasts. “So, basically, I’m not allowed to touch you? I can hold your head whilst you bring me to orgasm. I can kneel and suck you off. But that’s it? The rest of your body is out of bounds?”

  “Well-”

  “Adele, think carefully before you answer. I understand your need for control. But I will not be in a relationship where I cannot make love to my partner. That’s just not happening.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship?” It was weird. In an instant she went from the Adele I’d grown to love, to the Adele I first met at the side of the road.

  “Get out,” I said quietly.

  For the first time since we met, Adele succeeded in making me feel like a whore.

  Chapter 39

  Adele

  I woke up, showered and dressed, performing the same old dance routine I had for the past ten years. I sat alone at the breakfast counter and ate my Alpen in silence. Well relative silence. Bow was in one of her moods and yowling from one room to the next. Maybe she missed Joanne as much as I did, it certainly hadn’t taken her long to switch allegiances. She curled on Joanne’s lap after one night and after two, took up residence in the spare room with her.

  If only I owned a speck of Bow’s audacity.

  I tried calling Jo a few times to no avail. How could I explain it wasn’t that I didn’t want her to touch me, it was that I didn’t want her to have to touch me. Okay, so that made sense in my head, but I’m not sure how much it would make to anyone else.

  However, it was a small distinction, but one which was utterly vital to me.

  ***

  I got to work just after nine am and had barely taken a mouthful of coffee before I was summoned to the big boss’ office. “Shit,” I swore and carefully placed the receiver back on the cradle, maybe Helen did make a complaint. Self-righteous bitch. I was on a trapeze this morning, swinging between anger and lassitude and speaking to the boss just wasn’t sensible in my current frame of mind. I’d either tell him to go fuck himself or…

  Or probably tell him to go fuck himself.

  I walked past the lift and opened the door to the stairs. I’m not sure why, it wasn’t for the exercise. Perhaps I wanted time to think and prepare myself, or maybe the walls were already closing in on me and I didn’t want the added claustrophobia of being enclosed in a little silver box. After climbing four flights of stairs I sat patiently for five minutes until Linda, Angus Shaw’s PA, told me I was free to go in. When I did, I was surprised to see Adam and Gordon McStay, another member of the board, were also present. Crap this must be serious. I wracked my brains and couldn’t think why I would be suffering a full court martial simply for kissing my girlfriend in public – unless Helen had told them exactly what I said. Surely she wouldn’t have had the gall. I nodded to them both and shook Mr Shaw’s outstretched hand. “Ah, Ms Jackson, glad you could make it.” There was a hint of censure in his voice but I didn’t give a good goddamn.

  “Mr Shaw, I apologise for being late, but I wasn’t aware we had an appointment scheduled for this morning,” I said tersely; I wasn’t in the mood for sycophantic appeasement, I’d leave that to Aileen and her ilk. I was sick of trying to be someone I wasn’t.

  “It was a last minute thing. And how is that lovely partner of yours, Joanne? You must thank her. She emailed my wife the recipe for that delicious homemade apple cake she brought to the picnic yesterday.”

  “She’s good, and I will, sir,” I lied.

  “Excellent. Right I shall get straight to the point. As you know I’ve held reservations in the past about offering you the chance to work in the Manhattan office. I’ve never had a problem with your work ethic or talent as an architect, it was your ability to represent the company that concerned me, however I’ve been exceedingly impressed by how you’ve conducted yourself during the Jordan negotiations. Adam showed me the plans you sent over last week. Stunning. Exquisite. And exactly what Jordan is looking for. Once you have the 3-d model constructed, we’ll invite him over and you can present it as our first choice design.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I still didn’t understand the need for the three wise monkey routine; after all, it only needed one of them to inform me I was out of the running for New York the first time around.

  “Having said that, it would be remiss of me not to ask if you think you can continue in this vein.”

  “Honestly?” I tried to stop the jadedness creeping into my voice, but from Adam’s perturbed frown, I knew I’d done a bad job of keeping up the façade I’d so recently created.

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t know. I’d like to think I’ve turned over a new leaf but no one can predict the future, no one can genuinely say, ‘hey this is me and I’m not going to change one iota.’ And to be fair, that’s how it should be.”

  “Explain,” he said curtly.

  “Change is a good thing; if we didn’t evolve there would be stagnation not innovation. If we liken it to building and architecture, we’d still be designing wattle and daub houses,” I said with a small laugh, sarcastic to those who knew me. Christ I’d been so stagnant in the ten years before I met Joanne, it’s a wonder my spit wasn’t green. Adam regarded me with some concern, so I followed up with a truer smile and he relaxed back in his seat.

  God I was so good at faking it, I amazed even myself sometimes – and that was not necessarily something to be proud of.

  “I appreciate your honesty and candour, Adele, and with that in mind, I and the rest of the board would like to offer you the promotion to New York. Congratulations.” He was smiling, a bit smugly if I’m truthful, but for once it didn’t get my back up. I wondered, for half a second, what was going through his mind. Was it the fact I’d bent to the company’s will and puckered up? Or was he genuinely pleased I was the winner of the architectural decathlon.

  “Sir it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer but may I take some time to think about it?” I finally asked.

  “Time?” he said, totally miffed like I’d just told him his baby was ugly.

  “Yes, I need to speak with Joanne first.”

  “Ah yes, of course,” he smiled benignly. “Do you think she’ll go with you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said quietly. “She has commitments here. And as you so rightly mentioned, my life has changed and if you want frankness, then my life only changed because of her.”

  “Love has the unerring knack of bringing out the best in us. Adam was the same. Some days I wanted to throttle the boy until he settled down with Mel. You have a couple of weeks before the Jordan Golf presentation, but I’ll need a definite answer by then,” he warned.

  ***

  I sat on my bike in the pouring rain, glowering at the valley below. Why wasn’t I happy? When I conjured up this madcap scheme everything was straightforward. Fake the romance, get the job.

  And woo hoo, the promotion was mine.

  Yet instead of fireworks and champagne, it was flat warm beer and party poppers with broken strings. I started the bike. There wa
s only one reason for my discontentment. Joanne. My life was empty without her.

  ***

  “Hi.” Joanne stared right through me. “Can I come in?” I asked reservedly.

  “Sure.” But it was more out of courtesy than any real desire for me to enter her home.

  “I spoke to Mr Shaw today. His wife sends her thanks for the cake recipe.”

  “It was Ashleigh’s mam’s,” she explained briefly.

  “Well he was very grateful. He offered me the promotion.” I wasn’t smiling, I was too nervous for that.

  “I didn’t realise the cake was promotion good… you could have saved a fortune if only we’d known,” she said sarcastically. “Tea?”

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” I called after her.

  “Congratulations. When do you leave?” Her tone was dull and monotonous.

  “I haven’t said yes yet,” I confessed and waited for her reaction.

  “Why not? What was the point of this masquerade if not to secure your ticket to New York.”

  Ouch. That stung. The truth hurts? Oh fuck how it hurts. I was expecting everything except the apathy in her eyes. I may as well have been invisible, a text message she chose to ignore. “I’m in love with you Joanne,” I stated with quiet conviction. I couldn’t go through life not saying those words at least once to her, even though it was more in hope of a positive response than expectation she shared my feelings.

  She grabbed a hold of the worktop and shook her head sorrowfully. “A… a few days ago if you’d said those words they might have meant something,” she said, hesitation, affection and reservation all melded into one expressive tone.

  “What’s changed?” I asked, trepidation rife in my heart.

  “Adele, you can’t have love without trust.”

  “I do trust you, Joanne,” I vowed emphatically.

  “Really? So the next time we make love, will you relinquish that control and show me the whole you, the real you? I’m an all or nothing type of gal, Adele. If only you could see yourself through my eyes you’d know how beautiful you are.” The sheen of tears and subsequent turning of her back indicated the conversation was over.

  My time had run out.

  “Joanne, if I could explain I would. You have no idea how much I wish I could do as you ask. Maybe it’s true you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but I thought I was incapable of love and you showed me otherwise… I…” She still had her back to me, so I left without another word.

  There was obviously nothing left to say.

  ***

  Gazing vacantly at the telly wasn’t good for my soul, nor my sanity, especially not when Love Island came on. Seriously, Gogglebox should do an episode where the parents of these kids watch. Now that would be some must see tv right there. I was surprised, yet hopeful, when my doorbell rang less than half an hour after returning home. Joanne? I practically ran to the door, but instinctively checked the video screen, something which had become far more routine of late; Joanne’s difficulties teaching me in stark clarity, you couldn’t be too careful.

  I honestly thought it was her come to offer me a second chance. I thought I’d open the door and she would fall into my arms, professing her undying love for me. Perhaps knocking back two large glasses of wine wasn’t the best idea in the world, because I didn’t own beer goggles, I was now the proud owner of wine delusions.

  I was crushed when I saw who it actually was.

  After contemplating leaving Aileen in the rain, my curiosity got the better of me. Or again, it could have been the wine. Who knew? I certainly didn’t at that point. “Aileen? Do you know what time it is?” I planted my feet firmly in the doorway. I seriously wasn’t in the mood tonight.

  “Yes, I do. It’s time to pay the piper. Aren’t you going to invite me in?” She smirked. I fucking hated that smirk of hers, but unfortunately I recognised that she wasn’t going to leave without saying her piece.

  I stepped back and she sauntered past me. For a person who’d just lost out on her dream job she appeared awfully cocky. “So? What do you want?” I hissed.

  “I want you to pass on both the promotion and the Jordan Golf contract. Helen has her heart set on a holiday home in Florida and the bonus would more than pay for it. Oh, plus I think Mackenzie should join my team.”

  “Well the last one is a no brainer. Clear it with Adam and she’s yours.” I narrowed my eyes. “But then again, she already is, isn’t she? Does Helen know?”

  “There’s nothing to know, despite your attempted sabotage at the picnic.” Aileen smirked. Again. My hand itched to wipe it from her face. “My wife is blissfully ignorant and unlike you, I delete my texts.”

  “What now?” My head recoiled liked she’d slapped me with a concrete paving slab.

  “Paying for an escort. Tut tut Adele.” She wagged her finger in my face. I turned on my heel and headed to the fridge. Pouring myself another large glass of wine, I was finally composed enough to respond.

  “I haven’t paid for an escort.” Technically.

  “No? Let’s look at the facts. You haven’t had a significant other for the five years I’ve worked at Cameron, Shaw and Carlisle, and then the second we have to entertain our American friends ‘poof’” her fingers opened and closed in an explosive gesture, “as if by magic you have a brand spanking new hot girlfriend?”

  “Joanne is not an escort for hire, and while we’re at it, don’t speak about her in that manner.” Another swallow of wine. Another moment to gather my wits.

  “Why not? She’s sexy as fuck. And if her lush of a mother had crashed into me and she’d volunteered her ‘services’,” Aileen sneered, “so I’d keep schtum, I probably would’ve done the exact same thing as you. Tell me Adele, is she as good as she looks? Does the carpet match the curtains?”

  “You’re a mother for Christ’s sake Aileen.” She was baiting me, I knew this, and I was trying hard not to give her the satisfaction of biting. But I was close, real close. I wouldn’t have to say no to the promotion because I would be in Barlinnie prison for ABH – Aileen Bodily Harm.

  She laughed nastily. “Oooh look who’s finally found her moral compass, Joanne must be a fantastic lay. When you’re finished would you mind giving her my number?”

  “Joanne wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot barge pole, she’s way out of your league. You stick to slappers like Mackenzie,” I retorted hotly.

  “Mackenzie may be a bit of a skank but she’s a useful little skank. She found proof that you’ve been blackmailing that poor girl. I wonder what your new besties the Jordans would make of that?”

  “Proof? What kind of proof?” There was nothing, nothing unless Joanne had let something slip. Surely she doesn’t hate me that much?

  “Mobile phones aren’t the most secure form of communication,” Aileen said happily.

  “Are you saying… Mackenzie hacked my phone?” I was gobsmacked. Totally and utterly gobsmacked. I hadn’t seen that one coming. At all.

  “You have one week Adele, and don’t make it too obvious. Simply say you changed you mind and your sordid little secret will remain just that.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really,” she said with a nonchalant little shrug.

  “Get the fuck out,” I snarled.

  “Don’t you want to hear-”

  “I said get out!” I pushed her out of the front door and slammed it shut, waiting to hear the engine of her car start. I stood with my back to the door, my breath racing as fast as my heart.

  No choice? I now knew exactly how Joanne must have felt when she stood in my office between the devil and the deep blue sea. I didn’t give a shit about the promotion, I didn’t give a shit about the Jordans or their contract.

  All I cared about was Joanne and what I’d put her through.

  The doorbell rang again and I spun, fury fuelling my actions. I flung the door open, ready to let Aileen have it with both barrels.

  Big mistake…huge!

  A
dark blur barged in and knocked me flying. I landed with a thump on the floor and winded, I turned over on my stomach and tried to scramble away, but froze when a flash of silver, at least seven inches long and lethal looking, was held mere millimetres from my face.

  “Get the fuck up,” venomous low tones growled the order at me.

  I rose to my knees, and risked a glance at my attacker. I rocked back; staggeringly, it was a woman looming over me, her face twisted into a mask of rage. “Look take whatever you want, I have cash it’s-”

  I was backhanded across the face and my head ricocheted against the leg of the console table. “Shut your mouth bitch. I’ll take what I want alright, but it ain’t cash. Over there on the couch.” She pointed with the tip of the blade, short little jabs one of which came very close to my chest. I slowly stood, holding onto the table for balance, and edged into the front room. It was spinning, just a little, and the wine in my stomach gurgled, a volcano readying to erupt. “Where’s your phone?” She spoke calmly at first, almost as if we were having a conversation about the weather,

  “Errr, umm…” Fear constricted my throat. I glanced towards the door, judging the distance. Could I make it before the knife stabbed me in the back?

  “PHONE!” she shouted in my face, covering me in spittle.

  I scrambled back from her frenzy. “Bag…bag… it’s in my bag.” I chanced another look up whilst she located my phone, assessing my options. She wasn’t tall but was quite stocky. If I could only knock the knife out of her hand I might have a chance. My thoughts were cut short when my mobile hit me in the eye and a trickle of blood slowly dribbled down my face.

  “Call Joanne and tell her to come over,” she said, calm once again. She switched emotions as quickly as ice melting in the Sahara. One minute cool, the next steaming.

  “Joanne?” I was struggling to process anything. Joanne sounded like an alien language.

  “Joanne, Joanne Cassidy!” She was pacing in front of me. Finally she stopped and stooped so that our eyes were at the same level. When I lurched back again, she laughed, luxuriating in my terror. “You can’t have forgotten her already, you basically enslaved her.”