“Hey Lulu. Where you at?”
“I’ve just left The Ashton and guess what? We got it. Yay!” I do the drum roll noise our Dad always did when we were kids and continue with my mini tune.
“We did it, we did, we won it, we won it! Who’s the mama, who’s the mama?” Attempting to complete a little victory dance in my seat, I move my shoulders up and down as best as I can without crashing the car. I can hear her laughing at the thought of how I must appear to the other drivers in my near vicinity.
“Ha ha. I can’t breathe! You’re off the wall. Well done chickadee - Didn’t expect anything less from our very own Kelly Hoppen.”
“Thanks Suze. Seriously though I was pretty confident with this one but the pressure was on. It’s a lot of money and will really boost the Elysium name and coffers. Anyway enough about me how’s things at your end?”
“I’m ringing to see if you’ll work your creative magic over the house, for Saturday night? I’m thinking 80’s theme – what do you think?” Her voice becomes more babyish the more she goes on with her begging.
I roll my eyes and grin to myself; she knows I can’t resist the baby voice. “So what you’re saying is I’ve got four days to pull a fabulously 80’s - themed decor out of my arse – on a budget I presume?”
“You got it,” she responds tentatively. I can practically see her pretty pout down the phone.
“OK, but only because it’s you. Do you have any decorations already we can work with?”
“Well I’ve got some bits but I’ll get you some cash for the rest. Just let me know.”
“Ok. I’ll have a look into it. I might have some props left over we can adapt to suit.”
“Why don’t we just go with the neon 80’s colour palette and then it doesn’t have to be too literal? That way we have current music and NO fancy dress! I mean it Suze!”
I say the last few words, very firmly as Suzie is a dress-up kinda of girl, even if the rest of us aren’t. I’d made the mistake of looking for something in their guest room wardrobe once and the clothes stashed in there would put a sex shop to shame. Nurse, Police, Fireman - pretty much all the emergency services actually, with the odd quirky character thrown-in. Maybe a Smurf, if I remember rightly? Say no more. I’m scarred for life.
“I can nip to the wholesalers on Thursday night to grab some napkins, cups, etc. and if we keep it simple, the short-notice of it all will not be glaringly obvious.”
“Sounds fabby. I knew you’d know what to do. Anyway I’ve gotta go – Gino is demanding that I accompany him to some dull-as Sales drinks do! Gotta go wear my shortest dress for him to attain this new potential investor. Lucky me. Love ya!”
“Bye Hun.” I chuckle and shake my head disconcertingly, at the seedy thoughts in my head from her scene setting. Gino’s usual dress code for women was dress slutty but I loved him none-the-less. He loved my sister unconditionally and wholeheartedly, placed her on a diamond-encrusted pedestal everyday and that was good enough for me. His good looks and charm worked on most of the female population but he only had eyes for Suzie. I would love to have half of what they had together.
No sooner have I ended the call, the House of pain ringtone starts to jump again but taking a quick glance, I don’t recognise the landline number flashing up on the screen.
“Elysium Interiors. How may I help you?” I answer trying to sound proficient, switching from laughter to businesslike in a nanosecond.
“Is that Lucia Myers?” a rather snooty female voice enquires.
“Yes that’s correct. To whom am I speaking?” I do try not to sound waspish in return but fail miserably. I can’t do with snooty callers; they irritate the hell out of me. Let’s hope it isn’t an Ambulance chaser or Payment Protection mis-selling call.
It’s none of the above.
“This is Sebastian Silver’s PA and I’ve been asked to call you with a quotation for The Ashton Hotel.”
“Oh hi. Wow, that was quick.” He must have sorted things the minute he left me. It’s been 15 minutes at the most.
“Well, Sebastian – I mean Mr. Silver, does like to work effectively. I have already e-mailed you the quotation and a purchase order to sign, however he wanted me to call you with the numbers- apparently this job is very last minute.”
I pick up on her disapproval. It’s obvious that’s she is inferring that I am disorganised, not Sebastian. I immediately get a full on visual of him, he really is considerate and despite my annoyance at him, I cannot help but respect his own efficiency. She continues on in her rather patronising voice, and feeds me some figures, which sound OK, whilst I do my own sums. I am very aware that I’m more annoyed that Sebastian has a female PA who seems to act like she knows him more than I do. I thought Sebastian had said his PA was called Tony anyway?
Putting my professional butter wouldn’t melt voice back on, deliberately killing her with kindness, I respond.
“Ok, thanks for that. I’ll be sure to forward these on to my client to confirm and if you could inform Sebastian that I’ll be in touch with my decision.” I revel in that last snippet, knowing that this woman will probably be annoyed by it.
“I would much rather you contact me with the purchase order so that I can inform Mr. Silver. We have a very close relationship!” Her voice is sharp and official. I dislike her even more. Should that not be working relationship? I choose to rise above it.
“No problems, I’ll do both.” Ha, silly mare. I can play you at your own game.
“Right. Good. Well thank you Ms. Myers. Just ask for Toni, with an i, when you call.”
She doesn’t wait for my response. The line goes dead.
Of course she would be a chick, with an i at the end of her name; I wouldn’t expect anything less from Sebastian. So this is the infamous Tony - sorry Toni with an i. I’m surprised how annoyingly niggled I am by the fact that he is in fact a she – she definitely had obvious designs on Sebastian. Women’s intuition was an amazing superhero power; it even worked down a phone line!
Later that night I’m cuddling up watching the fabulous animated movie, Despicable Me for what feels like the hundredth time; Steve Carell’s accent is really amazing throughout. Finn’s boneless body is sprawled all over me and relaxing I take a moment to re-live the day’s events. I’ve not really had the opportunity to relive today’s events at The Ashton. I am aware that given 1% less stubbornness, Seb would have had his wicked way with me, then and there, on the dusty wooden floorboards - the only worries filtering through my mind would have been splinter extraction.
Yes, just a smidgen more courage and we’d have spent the afternoon tousled in luxury Egyptian cotton hotel sheets, blissfully scratching this impossible sexual itch. I tingle at the thought but immediately that 1% rears its head and I’m thrown into protection mode again. Our relationship whatever that is, is extremely messed up at present. I’m not really sure what I actually want anymore from Sebastian. Is it really wise to mix friendship with sex?
We’d always just been Seb and Lu. Best mates, unequivocally. Now the main basis of our relationship was stilted and had been replaced with some serious sexual attraction that threatened the friendship that meant so much to me. Sebastian and Lucia was a completely new concept to me. The reality is that deep down, if I am honest with myself, I want both - friendship and hot sex and I’m not sure that’s possible.
Fumbling around on the floor for my iPhone, which alerts me that I’ve reached a new level on temple run, (bless my little lad, he is so good with technology but my phone is continually dying as the battery is eaten with crappy apps) I notice that I’ve received a text from the man himself. I purse my lips in thought. I haven’t heard from him since earlier at The Ashton and I’d been phone watching all night (loathe though I am to admit it). I’d wanted to thank him for the flowers but didn’t want to spoil the secretive illusion. Annoyed with myself at such indecisive behaviour, I bite my lip and read his message.
If I haven�
�t made myself clear I’d be happy to show you how sex should be done Lulu but be warned, I’m no Niall.
FBR Number 2: One night will not be enough for me to take you to new sexual heights - believe me you’ll want more.
One proposition = one month of pleasure.
This is non-negotiable x
My cheeks are on fire. I can feel bits awakening just at his words. Wow, he is good, and incredibly full of himself. This is already getting out of hand, it was only ever supposed to be one night - do I want more? A month?
Who are you trying to kid?
I punch out a quick message, hesitate briefly over pressing send, shake my head and just do it anyway and snuggle back down to watch Gru and his minions capture the moon.
Your wish is my command x
His reply flies through in seconds
I like the sound of that x
I kick the door shut behind me, as I juggle my files and the overly packed three shopping bags from Sainsbury’s or Snobsbury’s, as Abby & I liked to call it. Quick unpack and then I’d get tea on. I am cooking Finn’s favourite homemade Spaghetti Carbonara and really need to crack-on before my ex brings him home, after an impromptu crèche collection, which pissed me off but I went with it for Finn’s sake. I’m in the throws of multi-tasking; boiling pasta, stirring sauce on the hob and setting the table when I hear a knock at the back door.
“Lucia.”
Niall drawls as he enters without my permission, carrying Finn’s backpack. I’m surprised how little I feel towards this man, whom I spent so many years of my life with. The just punched sexual feeling I get when I see Sebastian now, after only one night together and an unfinished one at that, combined with shockwaves of tingles that filter along every nerve ending, their end goal met at my apex is so unique; I’m not sure I ever had that with Niall?
I cared about him deeply, of course I did - we’d made a child together - but it wasn’t a gut-wrenching need it had been more a companionship of sorts. The type of relationship I thought Sebastian and I had until recently.
“Where’s Finn?” I snap out of my daydream and attempt to peer behind Niall’s lean designer-clad body. His hand stops me, grabbing my wrist and anchoring me in front of him.
“He’s just playing in the yard in his Shed. Fab is that! Did your Dad put it together for him?” He stares at me inquisitively and walks into the kitchen, helping himself to a piece of crozalled-crispy bacon.
Annoyed at his entrance, and familiarity, I pull my arm away from his grip and rush forward to the hob, where the spaghetti is now beginning to boil over.
“Er, my Dad built it for him, yes and they painted it together a few months ago. Dad says every man needs a shed!”
“Too true.” Niall nods chuckling. “Something smells good?”
My back is to him and my skin prickles in annoyance at his obvious hint. “Yeah, its Finn’s preferred tea, this month, Basgetti Carbon rar rar – last month was meatballs, or brains, as he likes to call them.”
“Spag Cab – he’s got good taste. I’d forgotten what a good cook you were Lucia.” He says my name as though I’m being reprimanded and he is my teacher. How had I not remembered that disdainful habit of his?
“I’ve only made enough for two I’m afraid.”
I’m aware that I sound brusque but I continue setting places at the granite island in the centre of the huge basement Kitchen, fully aware that Niall’s eyes are on me at all times. I wonder why after ten months he is now throwing out compliments and spending more than a second in my company? Something was up!
I brush my hair away from my face with the back of my hand, as I’m holding a pan in one and a wooden spoon in the other. I flinch as Niall raises his finger to assist me and tucks a stray wavy strand behind my ear. I do not feel comfortable at all and the atmosphere is quickly becoming stifled.
We both spin in shock when a deep voice from the corner of the room says, “Getting a bit steamy in here isn’t it?”
Sebastian.
His timing is a Godsend and his question laced with double connotations. He must have made his way down the steps and into the kitchen from the front entrance and is standing, looking seriously gorgeous and unimpressed in a fitted black t-shirt and ripped jeans.
I go to put the pan and dirty spoon in the sink. “Seb! What are you doing here?”
Following it up with a babbling, “Oh it’s the pasta boiling. I forgot to put the extractor on.”
Why had I explained that? Now it appeared that there had been a moment between Niall and I. Now it looked like I was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to cover it up.
“I knocked but there was no answer. I tried the door anyway – yet again unlocked Ms. Myers!” His tut is condescending but rather than piss me off, it warms me that he cares enough to mention it.
“Thought I’d pop in to see what your thoughts were on our quote for The Ashton. But I can come back though if you’re busy?” Sebastian arches his brow looking from me, to Niall and back to me again, searchingly. He has no intention of going anywhere, with that glint in his eye. Competition was like bees to honey, where Seb was concerned.
“No. No don’t be daft. Come in,” I pacify him. “I’m just about to serve up some food for Finn. Just give me a second.”
Why has he come now? When I’m a sweltering hot mess from the stove, already in a foul mood from Niall’s presence and all over the place emotionally, after yesterday’s Ashton episode and his acceptance of my offer?
I can feel the two men at war with one another behind my back and cringe. They used to be friends but Sebastian hasn’t seen or heard from Niall since he’d left and not become reacquainted since Niall had recently come back into Finn’s life; I think more out of loyalty to me but I know he’s severely pissed at him. When he’d walked, he walked out of everybody’s lives.
“Niall,” Sebastian offers up, seething.
“Sebastian,” Niall nods back sulkily.
Bugger. This was going nowhere.
The testosterone in the room was so thick I could see me walking out of here with a full-grown beard at the end of it and that would not be pretty! One of them needed to leave now and I didn’t want it to be Seb.
Sebastian goes to the shiny Red SMEG fridge and grabs a beer, making it exceedingly obvious to Niall that he is at home in my house. He doesn’t offer Niall one. He may as well have pissed on the floor, to mark his territory. I smirk to myself despite the awkwardness. I can tell that Niall is trying to weigh up the situation and thinks that there is something going on here. There isn’t of course, but then I correct myself and think well, actually maybe there is?
Sebastian takes this opportunity to place a hand firmly on my behind and squeeze it possessively, as I walk past to call Finn inside. I jump at the overly intimate gesture and turning to question, see the humour and control in his eyes. It was just for show; to wind Niall up and it seemed to be doing the trick. Niall is practically puce by this point, his face straining against his top buttoned shirt, unsure what to do but aware that he has rapidly lost command of the situation. He strokes his imaginary beard, in that God-awful affected way he used to, and evidently ruffled, quips,
“Lucia, we need to talk, preferably without being overheard by uninvited-passers-by. I’ll call you.”
He leans in to ruffle Finn’s hair, as my boy launches himself through the door, at breakneck speed, obviously now bored of playing with the shed. “See ya lad.”
“Submarine!” Finn is completely oblivious to Niall and screams in delight, at the sight of his pal, running to grab hold of Sebastian. “You came back!” He squeezes his jeans clad leg.
“Hiya Mate!” Seb returns the squish but turns Finn to face Niall. “Your Dad is on his way out, so why don’t you go say goodbye?”
“Bye Lion.” My lovely little boy responds with a wave and a quick leg hold – it’s the name he uses for Niall, as he couldn’t say it when he was two. We’re not sure why he suddenly sto
pped called him Daddy to his face but my parents thought it may be a psychological knock-on effect of the break-up.
“It’s Daddy Finn. Daddy,” Niall reprimands in a unreasonably firm voice, obviously irritated and I giggle behind my hand, when Finn continues to ignore him and instead bares his teeth and claws the air with his pudgy fingers, shouting, “Basgetti carbon rah raahh!” just like a lion.
Seriously exasperated, Niall rolls his eyes showing the impatience of someone who is not used to handling small children. “See you next week Finn. I’ll call you Lucia. Like I said we need to talk. Things have adjusted, shall we say and I’d like to run through a few theories with you. We didn’t get the chance the other night as you ran off!”
He pointedly stares in Sebastian’s direction and then back, to me; his blue eyes cold and full of annoyance. “You look good Lucia. Real good.” He spitefully smiles at Seb and leans in towards me to plant an unexpected and unwanted kiss on me. I move with lightening quick reaction, just in time for him to connect with the side of my mouth.
He whispers in my ear before leaving, purposely lingering against me, his body pressed into mine. “I miss you in my bed. You’re still my Mrs. you know.”
Oh. My. God. No way is this man on our planet. Sebastian had pissed on the floor territorially - Niall had curled one out and left it steaming there! What are men like? - Utterly pathetic!
My mind is racing through different options of what adjusted and theories would relate to and what the bloody hell that seedy comment was all about, but frowning in complete confusion I just wave him away. I’m totally drained and too tired to crack Niall’s secret code or play his mind games.
I close the door on his back and ignore the disgusted looks I can feel burning into my back from Seb’s brooding dark pools and return to serve up Finn’s tea, placing him at the granite island on a high backed red leather stool. I’m suddenly not hungry and glancing across to where Sebastian is discussing the differences between hulk and Spiderman and their pros and cons, I hold up a spare bowl in question – he catches my eye and giving me a thumb’s up returns to superhero world.
The One Awakened: Book 1 in The One Trilogy Page 12
