Marbella Beauty

by Oster, Camille

  “Eh…”

  “Perhaps we should talk.” Those were probably the sweetest words he could imagine at that moment.

  “I can be there in five minutes.”

  “I guess I’ll put the coffee on.”

  “Alright, see you soon.”

  Putting the phone down, Paul drove, probably too fast, but he was about to see Alice and they would talk. She was giving him an opportunity and hope flared to life in his chest. He’d take friends, if nothing more was on offer. He certainly wasn’t in a position to push, considering.

  He pulled into her driveway and got out. She stood by the door, looking beautiful. All he wanted to do was kiss her, but now he felt awkward. “Hi,” he said.

  “Come in. It’s still raining.”

  “Yes,” he said, realising that he’d stopped noticing. The rain had an insulating effect, making it seem as if the world was far away and it was just the two of them. Would it be romantic if he said something to that effect? Or would that be pushing too much at this clearly crucial point.

  Everything about Alice’s house was soft. The colours were pale peach, the furniture was soft; she was soft. Her brown hair was a neat bob. He missed her so very much. Should he say that?

  Turning, she handed a mug of tea to him. “My husband used to cheat on me,” she said.

  Paul frowned. This could go very badly. “It was never my intention. She’s just so very forward. It wasn’t something I wanted.”

  “She is very beautiful.”

  “There is a very twisted person under that beauty.” He could state how he thought Cheyenne purposefully had wanted to hurt him and destroy things for him. Although true, it sounded like an excuse a cheater would use. “I do feel a bit sorry for her,” he said. “She’s a very lonely person. She has no real connections with people.”

  “Is that what it was?” Alice asked. “Connection?”

  “No, that was pure manhandling, or womanhandling, in this case, the more rare form. It wasn’t the first time she had done it, I’m sorry to say. Her sexuality pounds you like a storm surge, and yes, there was a part of me that was fascinated by it, even against my will. I was very flattered at first, but there was always an underlying intention behind her actions. She was never interested in me, and I never had any delusions about that. But she comes on so strong, it takes you off balance. It did me, anyway. I never wanted to hurt you. I actually had great hopes for us—still do, if I’m honest.”

  “I’ve been with a man who cheated on me.”

  “That is not what I am. I am not the guy out there looking for women to… tupp.” That was an awfully old-fashioned word, but it sat right.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “That person to share things with. To be with.”

  Alice’s mouth pursed a bit. He didn’t know if that meant she didn’t believe him, or didn’t trust him.

  “I’m looking for something remarkably simple, actually. Maybe even a little old-fashioned,” he continued. “People like Cheyenne are not part of my world. If I’m honest, Marbella as a whole, is not really my kind of thing. I want a house and a garden, and work I’m interested in. I want a person to share it with. Beyond that, I have very little ambition.”

  She seemed to soften a bit.

  “And I thought I had found that,” he said. “Until I went and ruined it all. I will take responsibility for that. Cheyenne, is forceful and unique, and beautiful, but I should have been stronger, and for that, I’m sorry. I have no excuse.”

  “She is gone, they say.”

  “Yes, but I doubt we’ve seen the last of her. She isn’t someone who will admit defeat; she’ll keep fighting, so she’ll be back. And I will be sorry for whoever she focuses her attention on, but it won’t be me.”

  Chapter 67

  For once, it was raining. Marbella was coloured in dark blues and greys, and it seemed the town had stilled, held its breath for a moment. Even the office felt subdued, and Dominic took a moment to stare out of the wall-to-ceiling glass windows. Maybe even to reflect on his own behaviour.

  He’d worked hard the last few days, probably taking more meetings than he should, but he wanted to strive, wanted to achieve—because it meant something. It had always been what had been important. One didn’t let opportunities go. That had been all he’d been trying to say a few days ago when he’d last seen Cheryl Waters. She’d taken his intent the wrong way.

  But it didn’t sound entirely convincing even to his own ears. He’d more or less attacked her in the guise of being well-meaning. There had been a point where he’d considered bulldozing her salon, for heaven’s sake. There was no escaping that he’d been an utter dick, and he had no excuse for it.

  Things were usually not complicated like this. At least, they never felt complicated. Business decisions were straightforward—they either made sense or they didn’t. Cheryl Waters made no sense to him. She built her tiny little empire and then said she was fine with that much and there was no reason to go further. Chaos existed around her and she swanned by it, let it be as if it didn’t matter. It irked the hell out of him. How could she not feel out of control? It was the worst feeling in the world, but she didn’t seem to fight against it.

  Esme had called and tearily begged to come home. The treatment centre was apparently awful and she was treated like a prisoner. A part of him had wanted to rush to her rescue. That had always been his role: to rescue. Well, probably not, it had been their mother’s role. It had been rare that he’d had to step in, usually when Felix was thrown out of some school or another. But now that he had begun to suspect that his kids were actually not alright, he had no idea what to do. Money didn’t fix this.

  On the odd occasion, he’d confided in Cheryl. Obviously not the true extent of how this felt, but more than with anyone else. It was he who felt out of control, and when he saw it around her, he’d reacted with severity and conclusiveness. How could she allow such chaos? he’d demanded. How could she be so cool about it when she had no control?

  He wasn’t proud of his behaviour and he probably owed her an apology, not one to shy away when he did something wrong. This sat badly, and he wasn’t going to be right about it until he addressed it. “Fennie, I’m going out for a moment.”

  “Shall I reschedule Max?”

  “Yes, for later this afternoon.”

  Taking the lift, Dominic went down to the garage and hopped in the Aston Martin. Traffic was a little slower, a little denser with the rain and he passed a couple of cars that had been rear-ended, their owners arguing. The building site was equally subdued, but he passed it by and headed for the salon. From the car, he could see her by the front desk, speaking to the receptionist.

  Rain fell on him as he got out of the car and quickly walked up the stairs to the salon entrance. Her shoulders sank at the sight of him. Exactly the reaction he wanted from women when they saw him, he thought sarcastically.

  “May I have a word?”

  “I’m actually quite busy. I do have a business to run, such as it is, and have better things to do than listen to your opinion. Perhaps you could pop your thought into a letter and deliver it to my solicitor.”

  Turning sharply, she walked away. Pursing his lips, he stopped himself from swearing. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, and she certainly wasn’t giving him the benefit a doubt. As he watched, she disappeared out the back.

  A salon was unfamiliar territory, particularly the eyes of the women watching him, looking awful with foil in their hair. He had no idea what kind of procedure required that, but they looked ridiculous. Walking through, he followed her into the utility area, where all sorts of supplies were. “I am trying to apologise.”

  With a sigh, she turned to him. “How about we skip that and you just go.”

  “No, I owe you an apology, and I would like to deliver it. Perhaps we could go down to the café.”

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “Yes, it is. Please, Miss Waters. You could hea
r me out. We will, after all, have a long working relationship, so let me fix this.”

  “But then perhaps we are better off not, because you could end up making it so much worse.”

  “That is just a risk we have to run. Come,” he said, taking a step back, waiting for her to follow. And she made him wait for a while, finally grudgingly relenting. She walked slowly to the front, detouring behind the desk to pick up an umbrella. “Care to share?” he asked when they got outside.

  With a tight mouth, she moved the umbrella over between them and they started walking. He felt pleased, and he liked the rain, forcing them to huddle together. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked in the rain with a woman. In fact, it was noticeable how much he liked this, even the fact that he was about to apologise. It wasn’t usually something he relished.

  Her shoes were thin and strappy, with a band around her ankles. No doubt, her feet were getting wet. She wore a silver blouse and a dark maroon skirt that finished above the knee, high waisted and tight enough to show off her hourglass figure. This overt femininity was not something the designers went in for. Cheryl dressed for her figure and it wasn’t strictly in fashion. It was as if she cared nothing for what the trends said, ignoring all that. Not that Dominic particularly cared about being on trend, or even being complicit with society, but someone who cared nothing about what society expected was typically someone marginalised. And for some reason, he didn’t want the women of Marbella to marginalise her, to look down on her for unapologetically not toeing the line. They would deem her clueless, just like he had.

  The café had a few patrons, but there were plenty of free tables. These would blow away in a stiff wind. Now that he was here, he felt he should have taken her somewhere else, somewhere better. But perhaps he knew that getting her into his car was a step too far just at that moment. So, bad coffee and a pastry was it.

  A girl came over and took their order.

  “I behaved badly—atrociously, in fact,” he started, and she stared at him. Her lipstick was bright pink, and he didn’t like it. There was no subtleness about it. It would leave marks on the coffee cup, and it certainly wasn’t kissable. She was apparently waiting for him to go on. “I know little about running a salon, and how you run your life is really none of my affair.”

  She twisted her head to the side, but still didn’t say anything. She really was making him work for it.

  “I was perhaps taking the stresses in my own life out on you, and for that, I’m sorry.”

  The coffees arrived and she sat forward, pouring in some sugar before slipping a lacquered finger in the cup’s ear. “Alright.”

  “In fact, why don’t I apologise properly and take you to dinner.”

  “Would you not be embarrassed being seen with me?”

  “I would be honoured.”

  She wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t say no, either. Normally, women fell over themselves for such a dinner invitation, but not Cheryl. She was too wary of him, and maybe she simply didn’t like him. These things were not of interest to her; they never had been. From the very beginning, she just wanted him away from her, and maybe that was a little bit fascinating.

  Chapter 68

  Stepping out of his car, Alistair walked up to Aggie’s door and knocked. He’d texted her to let her know he was coming, in case she had company or was otherwise absent.

  “Hey,” she said, opening the door. She wore a tank top and simple shorts. It was hard to see Aggie as anything other than Quentin’s girlfriend. They’d been an item for a few years, but it had never been a settled relationship. Still, Alistair still saw her that way. “Come in.”

  Aggie led him into the kitchen, moving directly to the espresso machine. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” It was close to eleven in the morning, and Aggie had obviously not started getting ready for the day. “Heading out to lunch?”

  “I haven’t got anything specific planned. Some of the girls want to head to the Athletic Club, but I’m passing.” The espresso machine made loud, screeching noises and before long, Aggie handed him a cup.

  They walked outside to the chairs by the pool, overlooking the mountains and coastline beyond. “What are you up to this week?” she asked as they sat down. She blew on the cup, then took a sip, groaning with pleasure.

  “Big night last night?” he asked.

  “It turned late all too fast. But yeah, it was a good night. I might actually have been more drunk than Felix, which is a first. How come you didn’t join us?”

  “My mum arrived from the Bahamas, so we had dinner.”

  “How is she?”

  “Good, from the sounds of things.”

  “And how are you?”

  That was a question he couldn’t readily answer. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Things are complicated.”

  “Oh? I take it the complication is called Terese?”

  “That noticeable?”

  “It was kind of obvious you made a beeline for her at Jasper’s party.”

  Alistair felt intensely uncomfortable talking about it, but it was the reason he’d come. He’d always appreciated Aggie’s advice. A girl’s perspective was useful at times, particularly when dealing with a girl.

  “So what’s going on with you two?”

  “I don’t quite know.”

  “God, this is like pulling teeth. Are you, you know, doing it?”

  Running his hand through his hair, Alistair sighed. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Aggie looked perplexed at the response.

  “Well, we tend to, but not as in hanging out. It’s more of a heat of the moment thing. The opportunity arises and it just happens.”

  “So where are you planning to go with this? She is leaving in a week or so, isn’t she?”

  “That’s the thing. It’s not that I like her, as such, but I’ve got a total hard on for her, and not the typical stuff. Everything. Even imagining her brushing her teeth gives me a hard on. But what does this mean?”

  “Maybe you actually do like her.”

  “Pft,” he said dismissively.

  “Okay, well fine, but you’re still going to follow her around like a puppy the next time you see her.”

  “This might be an obsession. I’m actually considering driving by her house on the way home. I’m turning into a total stalker.”

  “Or you’re in love with her.”

  “Or, I’m fixating on her because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

  “Could be. So she’ll leave and you’ll get over it.”

  Alistair crossed his arms. “I don’t want her to leave.”

  “Not sure you have any choice in that.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Is there anything you can do?”

  With a sigh, Alistair stared out across the view. He had no idea what to do, what he should do. What did one do with an obsession? She was all he thought about. This wasn’t something he intended to happen, and certainly not something that had happened before. What if he couldn’t stop thinking of her, even after she left? The thought of her not being there was uncomfortable.

  She was out there right now, not that far away, maybe sitting somewhere, or running. She liked running, apparently, or maybe she was naked and soapy in the shower. He’d never seen her fully naked. His body tightened at the thought and he closed his eyes. What the fuck was happening to him? And with her. Why her? Okay, he got that he was jealous of her breaking away and forging her own path in the world, but that was acknowledged now.

  “I guess at this point, you have two choices,” Aggie said. “You either forget her and turn your attention to other things, or you go hang with her while she’s still here.”

  “And what good would that do?”

  “Maybe you’ll find out what’s actually going on with you, because it seems the only thing you’ve got going on right now is her.”

  That sounded awful, but it was true. There was nothing going on with him right now. Zero in
terest in work, equal amount of interest in his friends, and less than zero in other girls. Maybe he should just screw someone to get out of this funk, but it was her he wanted to sink into.

  The thought of not seeing her sat in his mind, but he knew he wouldn’t do that. In fact, he wanted to go over there and crawl into bed with her, imagining she was still in bed. “It’s rather hopeless, isn’t it?”

  “Well, if she’s the one you’re into, then she’s the one you’re into.”

  Unfortunately, Aggie didn’t have the answers he was hoping for. “I’m gonna go,” he said, standing up.

  “Why don’t you come to Tierra tonight? We’re all going to be there. Bring a date, if you must.”

  He gave her the finger as he walked away. No doubt she found his predicament funny. Alistair was usually the one chased by girls, and now he didn’t know which way was up.

  “You know, it’s no shame admitting you like someone. Maybe you need to man up and own it.”

  “I’m not into her.” It sounded false, even to himself. Maybe he did need to man up and stop expecting Aggie to solve this predicament for him.

  Excitement filled him as he drove onto her street. It wasn’t a reaction he was completely happy with, but he had to acknowledge it was there. He pulled in and parked in front of their garage. The sun was beaming down on him as he stepped out and walked to the door. Crossing his arms, he waited until someone came, realising he should probably take his sunnies off.

  “Alistair, how are you?” Terese’s mum said, smiling. “Are you here to see Terese?”

  “Is she in?”

  “She’s in her room. Go ahead. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.” Terese’s parents obviously didn’t quite understand the nature of their relationship, but he wasn’t going to correct them. It seems Terese hadn’t been slagging him off to her parents. His mind wanted to find some meaning in that, but he didn’t feel like analysing it. Instead, he knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” she called, probably expecting one of her parents, or maybe even Parmi.