Fallen Angel, Part 1

by Podger, Tracie

  “It’s not that simple though, I have a job, and a mangy cat as Sam calls him.”

  “Yeah, but what else, Brooke, nothing. You don’t see your parents, you’re crashing on a friends sofa, what else do you need to rush back for?”

  “I need to earn money, Scott. I don’t have the healthiest of bank accounts, my savings went into decorating the house, furniture.”

  “All we’re saying is that you have options, just spend the next couple of weeks having fun and see how you feel. Maybe get in touch with your boss, they might be able to give you a sabbatical, keep your job open for a while. We can support you, you would do the same for us, I know that.”

  Bless him; Scott had only known me for a short time. We’d spoken on the phone and emailed when his and Sam’s relationship got serious, but that was the first time I’d met him in person and he offered to financially support me.

  “You’re Sam’s best friend, that makes you family to me, too,” he added.

  As I undressed for bed, my mobile rang. Not expecting any calls from home, I picked it up and saw a word appear. He hadn’t programmed in his actual name, instead he had called himself Trouble. I laughed as I answered.

  “Good evening, trouble with a capital T.”

  He chuckled, “I just wanted to say goodnight and thank you for today. It was refreshing not getting my own way. I will tell you this, Brooke. You won’t get away so easily on Tuesday. Sleep well,” and he clicked off the phone.

  I shook my head and smiled. Yes, he was trouble with a capital T and right then I didn’t want to get away easily. I wanted to call him back but I didn’t think Sam would appreciate me having sex with his boss in his apartment.

  ****

  That night I slept well despite dozing during the day. Possibly it was the up and down emotion of the past couple of days but I drifted off quickly and only woke when I felt Sam gently shake my arm. He had a cup of tea for me that he placed on the table next to the bed.

  “Shift over,” he said.

  I laughed, we hadn’t done that since we were kids, but I shifted over and he slid in beside me. Propped up with pillows, we drank our tea and chatted.

  “Thought any more about what Scott said last night?” he asked.

  “No, I can’t think of anything right now, Sam. I just want to enjoy this time with you guys and then see what happens. You know me, Steady Eddy. I can’t just pick up the phone and say, ‘hi, thought I’d call and let you know I quit’ now, can I?”

  He stuck out his lower lip in a mock sulk and I laughed. Sam was the only one who could ever cheer me up. All those times when I’d felt abandoned by my parents, the terrible time when my brother died, Sam would be the one whose shoulder I would cry on. We would snuggle under a duvet, especially in the winter, either in one or the other’s bed, or on the sofa and just chat, like only best friends can do.

  “Anyway, listen, I have something to tell you. I want to ask Scott to marry me, what do you think?” Sam said.

  “That’s fantastic. Oh, I’m so pleased for you. He’s a great guy and God knows why, but he clearly loves the bones of you.”

  “Will you be my best girl? I mean you can’t be my best man but I want you by my side, if he does say yes of course.”

  “Of course I would, best girl, best man, whatever. We can go clothes shopping, I can arrange your stag party,” I said, with building excitement.

  He laughed, “Slow down. Stag party absolutely, clothes shopping, I’ve seen your wardrobe. Anyway, if you are out with Trouble with a capital T on Tuesday, yes I heard you, I might ask Scott then. I thought I could make a meal, bottle of wine, or should we go out? But if he says no I’ll have sit through dinner with him.”

  I laughed, I had no doubt Scott would accept, it was so clear they adored each other. I was pleased for my friend; he’d struggled over the years, trying not to be gay because of the taunts he’d got, getting heartbroken by his first love. We’d grown up together and if he was happy, then I was happy.

  “Go out, Sam, somewhere romantic and not too busy. Do you give him a ring?” I asked.

  It’s not like he could present a solitaire, could he.

  He laughed. “No, no ring. I can just picture Scott going to work with a huge diamond on his finger.”

  “Can you get married here, in America?” I asked.

  “Not legally, but there are places we can have a blessing, I’ve been checking it out. Anyway, what do you want to do today?” he asked.

  “Sam, I want you to do the thing you do best, take me shopping.”

  Most of my wardrobe was thanks to Sam and I wanted to buy something for Tuesday, perhaps some sexy underwear, I thought with a smile. Getting up and dressed took forever. Sam wanted to check out my outfits, see what was required for an up and coming millionaire’s girlfriend, as he put it.

  “He’s not an up and coming millionaire, he already is one, and I’m not an up and coming millionaire’s girlfriend, we are trying to be friends,” I replied.

  I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day than shopping with my best friend. We stopped for coffee half way through as my feet ached from the walking. While we sat, I received a text.

  “Hope you’re having a great day, I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow. T.”

  Sam snatched the phone away from me as I laughed.

  “Let me reply, let me tell him about the sexy knickers we’ve just bought.”

  I wrestled with Sam across the coffee table to get the phone back before he could do anything.

  “Sam, we’re thirty, not twelve,” I scolded, but giggled. “You know what, I feel like a teenager though, isn’t that terrible,” I added as I replied to Robert.

  “Thought you were busy today building your skyscrapers. I’m having a productive day, clothes shopping. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow. B (stands for Brooke the Brave) x”

  “Honey, you’ve been stuck with boring Michael for ten years and now you’re finding out what you’ve been missing, i.e. F.U.N,” he said, dramatically.

  “I know. I have to call him at some point. I doubt he remembers but the lease is up on the house in a couple of months, if he wants to stay he has to renew it in his name.”

  I’d simply walked out of the house we rented and let him stay. There was no way he would move out, he couldn’t accept that our relationship was over and I needed to make a clean break. I’d felt terrible about it, but for my own sanity I had to leave. Michael had pleaded with me not to go, tried to convince me he would change, we would do more things together, but I’d heard that so often. I knew that, yes, he would try for a short time, then we would fall back into the mundane existence we had and another ten years would pass. No, I’d done the right thing. Michael had wanted kids, I couldn’t have them, and separating would give him a chance to find someone who could offer him the lifestyle he wanted.

  When I’d first found out I couldn’t have kids, I was surprised that I wasn’t that upset about it. Perhaps if I’d been with anyone else I might have been. Michael had pestered for us to start a family. I was enjoying my job and there never seemed to be the right time in my mind. However, I gave in. I came off the pill and nothing happened. We went for tests and discovered that my ovaries simply didn’t work; I would never have kids naturally. Michael was devastated, not so much for me but more for himself and at the time, that kind of hurt.

  We had arranged to meet Scott after work for dinner. He was bringing a few of his work colleagues, some that Sam hadn’t met before. He was like a cat on a hot tin roof. We stopped in a public restroom so he could tart himself up before making our way to the museum. He had a great group of friends; among them was Miranda. Being the only two girls, we sat next to each other at the restaurant and chatted.

  “Scott does nothing but talk about Sam all the time, it’s getting rather annoying,” she said in a kind way.

  Sam beamed and knowing what I did, about the planned blessing, I was pleased. It meant Scott was as much into Sam, as Sam was into Sco
tt.

  “So, Brooke, are you having fun here?” she asked.

  Sam leant across the table, “Oh yes she is all right, dating Mr. Stone at the moment,” he said.

  As much as I tried, my foot would not reach as I stretched out to kick him under the table.

  “Mr. Stone,” Miranda said, eyes wide. “As in, Vassago’s Mr. Stone?”

  “Well, we’re not dating as such, I’ve been out for dinner with him,” I wanted to play down the relationship and I cursed Sam under my breath.

  “You be careful now,” she said. “He’s one mean bastard. Takes you for dinner then expects a fuck, you don’t hear from him again. Well, from what I hear anyway.”

  I looked at her; somehow I got the impression that she was talking from experience. She might have been the one who went to dinner then, as she put it, got fucked and dumped, but she obviously didn’t know him. The comment unnerved me though. How many women were out there, that felt that way.

  I just smiled at her, “Well, since this is our third, or is it fourth, dinner date, I guess what you heard was wrong,” I shrugged and returned my gaze to my glass of wine. I left her staring, open-mouthed at me.

  Sam looked worried, he mouthed that he was sorry and I replied by drawing my hand across my throat. My eyes were, hopefully, telling him that I couldn’t wait to get him out of there, where I would kick his ass, as our American friends would say. Later that evening the meal wound down and people began to leave.

  “Honey, I am sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I told Miranda about you and Capital T.”

  “Stop calling him that, that’s my joke, but she seemed to be speaking from experience. What do you know about her?” I asked.

  “Nothing really, other than she works with Scott. She’s quite high up in the museum, wait until we’re on our own and we can ask him.”

  “Ask me what?” Scott said as the last guest left and he shifted up the seats next to us.

  “That Miranda bird,” Sam said. “What do you know about her?”

  Scott rolled his eyes at the bird bit but said, “Well, she’s head of the museum’s fund raising section; organises many balls and such to raise money. Not just for the museum but for its outreach programs and charities. Why?”

  “Me thinks she has been used and abused by our Mr. Stone,” Sam replied.

  I rolled my eyes. Sam should have been on stage, he was so theatrical and dramatic sometimes, but then that’s what I loved about him.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. If I’d known I wouldn’t have you sit next to her,” Scott said.

  “Don’t worry, Scott. I suspect there are many women he has used and abused, as Sam would put it. He’s a good looking man, wealthy, powerful, and I doubt was celibate until I came along,” I said.

  We paid the remainder of the bill and left. Outside, waiting by the curb for a cab I noticed Miranda standing against the restaurant wall. She walked over to us.

  “I meant what I said, Brooke. You need to take care where Mr. Stone is concerned. He will hurt you.”

  Looking at Scott and Sam, I replied, “Thank you for the warning, but I can look after myself.”

  We turned away and got into a cab that Scott had managed to hail and made our way home. I wouldn’t let her put a downer on the evening. It had been fun and it was good to see the colleagues of Scott that Sam hadn’t met, treat him as a friend. Sitting in the back with Sam, he reached for my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “Don’t worry about her, frigid old witch, if she upsets you I’ll scratch her eyes out,” he said.

  I laughed, he could always cheer me up but I was a little worried, there was obviously history there and perhaps some unfinished business. I wasn’t a jealous person so I wouldn’t dwell on it. I just wanted to have some fun and see where life took me.

  Snuggling down in bed with a cup of tea and my book, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. I looked at it and smiled. Maybe his goodnight call was going to become a regular thing and I liked the thought of that.

  “Hey, Trouble. Have you had a good day?” I asked.

  “Yes and no. What about you, what did you buy?”

  “A lovely new dress for tomorrow.”

  “One I can get you out of easily I hope,” he said, his voice was low and seductive.

  “Mmm, I think you could probably get me out of any dress easily. So tell me, what do you intend to do once you have, if you are going to, get me out of my new dress?”

  I could hear the smile in his voice, “First, I’m going to kiss your body all over, and I mean all over, from your head to your toes. Then I’m going to run my tongue over you until you come in my mouth. After, I’m going to fuck you until you come again and again. How does that sound for starters?” he asked.

  “What do you mean, for starters?” I said, breathlessly.

  “Exactly that, Brooke, because after, you’ll get the main course and then dessert. You’re going to tell me exactly what you like, how and where, so start thinking.”

  “Oh I am, believe me.”

  “Are you turned on now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then do something about it. Tell me what you’re doing,” he said.

  I did. I let my hands wander over my body, feeling how wet I was. I whispered to him that I was running my fingers around, teasing myself, feeling my clitoris throb at my touch and how I wished he were here right now. I told him how my body was aching for him to be inside me, how I wanted him to fuck me. I told him how I tasted when I’d come and then licked my fingers clean. I heard his rapid breathing down the phone.

  “Fuck, Brooke, that was hot. I don’t know how I’ll get through tomorrow.”

  I giggled, “With nice thoughts I hope. Now I have to go, I am seriously embarrassed.”

  He laughed, “Night, babe, see you tomorrow, all of you,” and he clicked off the call.

  I buried my head in my pillow and giggled like mad. Jesus, sex on a first date, and phone sex, I had turned into a right little tramp. I couldn’t wait to see him though. It must have been too much wine that had made me do that, I thought.

  My subconscious however, disagreed. It’s him, dark eyed and dangerous. He could make me do things I hadn’t done before, throw off my little missionary cloak and explore outside my comfort zone. Like I’d said, he was the devil himself.

  ****

  I woke late the following morning; dreams of erotic and forbidden sex had filled my brain. I’d seen things in my dreams I hadn’t known existed. I vowed not to do that again, not to drink too many glasses of wine, and then have phone sex. It wasn’t a good mix. Then, I guessed, without the wine I wouldn’t have been brave enough.

  I wandered into the kitchen, the guys had already left for work, and Sam had left me a note. He’d made a plan for his proposal and would call me later. He instructed me to wear the new dress I’d bought and to have a great, sex filled time.

  I worried about the dress. It was black, calf length and backless. It had a cowl neck at the front and gold chain across the back held it together. I had no idea how I would get it on without help. I’d brought with me my pair of black, very high patent Louis Vuitton shoes, my one, and only extravagant buy. I loved the small padlocks on the back of each heel and the height gave a sexy length to my fairly short legs. Being a little over five foot meant high heels were a necessity in my wardrobe.

  I spent the day taking a walk around the neighbourhood and then just chilling in the apartment. I took a long shower and spent ages drying my hair and curling it. I pinned it up loosely, tendrils fell around my face and I moisturised my body from head to toe. As I applied my makeup, I’d realised how excited I was to see Robert, although I was a little nervous about attending a business dinner with him. He hadn’t said too much about it, but I worried I would be sitting with a group of stuffy old men talking shop.

  The entry buzzer sounded exactly at six o’clock and I made my way downstairs. It was slow going because of the heels, but when I opened the door I saw both Tra
vis and Robert look at me.

  “Scrub up well, don’t I boys,” I said, as I sauntered past and slid into the car.

  “You look wonderful, although I’m not sure I like you exposing so much flesh,” Robert said as he got into the car after me. He ran a finger down my spine.

  “Oh, don’t be so stuffy. I’ve seen some of the pictures of your usual dates, belts for skirts and all that,” I laughed.

  I regretted the comment when I saw the look on his face. Oh oh, Mr. Dangerous was there. I reached over and squeezed his hand, gave him a smile to defuse the situation.

  “So, where are we going?” I asked.

  “It’s a dinner to thank local businesses for donating to the museum, nothing formal. We’ll be on a table of old men who won’t keep their eyes off you and we’ll make our excuses and leave as soon as we can,” he said, running a finger up and down my arm.

  My interest was piqued; I hadn’t mentioned the encounter with Miranda. Scott had said she worked for the fund raising department of the museum, so, if Robert was involved in donating, perhaps that was where they’d met. She would be there and I just hoped that she didn’t cause a scene.

  We arrived at a rather grand hotel, the dinner was held in a banqueting room, and I noticed as we entered the building, a little emblem. It was an angel, similar to the one on his back, engraved on a steel plaque by the door. Robert, as usual, was greeted by name from the doorman and the receptionist. Although he would smile and nod a greeting, he didn’t stop and talk nor did he introduce me to anyone. He did, however, keep hold of my hand the whole time. Without asking, I knew that he owned the hotel. I recognised the emblem, it was the same as the one by the door where Sam worked.

  We made our way into the function room; circular tables were set for dinner. Finding our table, Robert greeted the gentlemen standing around it. That time, he introduced me as his friend, Brooke Stiles, from England. I shook hands with the men in turn, each a head of a division at Vassago Corp.

  “Robert, so glad you could come,” I heard a female voice purr.

  I turned and saw Miranda approach, she seemed shocked to see me, and there was a little hesitation in her step. Planting a large smile back on her face, she approached Robert, placed her hands on his shoulders and air kissed each cheek. He immediately stilled, did not return the kisses and seemed annoyed at the gesture.