“There is still something between us, even after five years. I really don’t know what happened that afternoon. Why she did it. Maybe I was expecting too much and she got scared,” I admit, deep down knowing that this is not the case. I’ll get her back, rip apart her perfect relationship and then toss her away, so she will finally understand what she has done to me.
“You want to ruin her engagement for the sake of some childish need for retribution?” she asks in disbelief.
“Maybe. I don’t know. When we talked I felt like we were together again. I just want her to admit that she made a mistake, that she should have fought for me,” I say more aggressively than I intended. I can’t blame Dora for the drugs and buzz, but if we’d still been together maybe my life wouldn’t have gotten so fucked up.
“Okay, Jacob, I don’t think it’s a good idea, but if you do get her back it may help Mum to finally come around. She always liked her,” Maddie states quietly and I want to smash the phone into the wall. My mother stopped talking to me when the story in the paper came out. We always had a rocky relationship, more so when I started playing rugby professionally. Drugs didn’t help our situation, and Mum walked away when she found out.
We talk some more and I don’t say more about my plans for Dora. Maddie has always been there for me, but she doesn’t need to know what I’m really planning, she doesn’t need to tell me that it’s morally wrong to be ripping apart someone else’s relationship.
The revenge might be sweet; it might even make me feel better about everything. Dora is going to give me some answers about the past and maybe I’ll finally have some closure.
I pick up my phone an hour later and call her direct line. When it goes straight to voicemail I call her office and make an appointment with her. It’s late, just before five, so she should still be in the office. The girl in the reception states that Dora has gone home early.
“May I take a message?”
“No, I really would like to speak to her. Does she have a mobile?”
“Yes, but I’m not allowed to give that out, sir.”
“This is urgent. Dora is working on my case. There is something that I need to talk to her about,” I keep saying, pissed off that this girl is being so uptight.
“Mr. Radcliffe, it’s her personal number and I’m not all—”
“Jacob Radcliffe. I think you must have seen me in the office the other day. I have just relocated to London from France,” I say, knowing that sometimes this works, but mostly I just sound like a total moron. Earlier on I lied to Dora. I didn’t really get her number from Mike. I just wanted to wind her up.
“Oh god, is that really you? I’m so sorry, Mr. Radcliffe, I had no idea,” she mumbles. “Dora likes having drinks in Delux, not far from the office. She hangs out there with Mike. If you go there you might be able to keep me out of trouble.”
“Thank you, gorgeous. I owe you one,” I say, then hang up the phone before she tries to keep me on the line. I’m pumped and that’s not good. Another surprise, but who knows—maybe I’ll even meet the famous fiancé tonight.
I put some smarter clothes on and head out several minutes later, putting my plan into motion. Dora is going to be mine again, but this time I’ll be the one having all the control.
Chapter Five
First step.
Dora
“So are you going to tell me why you took his case, if you have no intention of getting back with him?” Mike asks for the fourth time.
“Sorry … what?”
“The case, Dora. I’m asking you—why did you take his case?” he repeats, sounding irritated.
Okay, I really need to start paying attention to him and stop thinking about Jacob. For some reason I’m off my game tonight. We’re having drinks in Delux, as usual, but I keep thinking about Jacob and the fact that he hasn’t called. The court signed off on serving the lawsuit to the paper only this afternoon. Miss Sarah Willcock will have an unpleasant surprise in the morning when she is served with a subpoena. Things will start rolling then.
Mike just ordered another cocktail, which should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. I still feel empty, though I’m trying hard not to think about the reason behind it. Jacob most likely changed his mind. I shouldn’t even be surprised. I lied to him, the same way I lied to my father today about hiring a new secretary. On top of that I told Clarisa, one of the managers, that I’m dating a sports celebrity, a very well-known rugby player that makes a six-figure salary before endorsements every year. I just couldn’t help it.
“I don’t really want to talk about it, Mike. You better tell me how things are with you,” I reply, giving him a fake smile, appearing to be curious. I should be happy. Jacob isn’t a problem anymore. He won’t interfere in my life. Maybe I should be getting out there, approaching hot guys. I won’t find love just sitting in a bar and feeling sorry for myself. Normally I find someone that I like, we date for a couple of weeks, and then the guy quickly realises that I have issues, and he disappears. Not that I’ve liked any of them enough to care. Since Jacob I haven’t had any stable relationships, much less the spark of potential love, none whatsoever.
Mike starts snapping his fingers in front of my face. My best friend can sense that there is something wrong with me. He is not stupid, and he wants me to tell him everything, from the very beginning.
“No, this crap won’t work on me this time,” Mike says. “And don’t even think about buying me another drink. That hottie Jacob was your first boyfriend, but something happened all those years ago. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour, waiting for you to tell me what’s going on. I know you better than you think, darling. You have dated a lot of rugby players. You know the score: just call him and start your seduction game. It’s always easier if you make the first move.”
“No, I can’t. Jacob isn’t one of them. We have a real history and I screwed up. I don’t think I can fix this with some flirting,” I say, knowing that there is no point in me hiding the truth. Mike is a good friend and Jacob is my old tainted love. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or why I’m so conflicted.
“You still have feelings for him, right? That’s what this is all about. It’s easy to figure it out. You haven’t been the same since that party.”
I lift my glass and take a sip of my sweet cocktail, hoping to push away my bad vibes, the sadness. Mike is right, my emotions are turning me into a total sob. The alcohol is slowly beginning to light its way through my system mellowing me out as it hits my bloodstream. And tomorrow I need to get up early. I can’t wait any longer to hire a new secretary. I have been trying to set up interviews, but the agency kept sending me CVs through and I couldn’t get organised. I was so overwhelmed that I stopped opening the emails. For a split second this afternoon I felt like I was paralysed from head to toe. I sat at my desk unable to think or even breathe, waiting to fall.
“I don’t know, Mike. It’s complicated and he shouldn’t even be talking to me. I cheated on him, pushed him away.”
“So you’re talking about me, then? I wondered how long it might take.” That familiar voice behind me sends a shiver down my spine. I flinch in surprise, turning around. Jacob is here. Somehow he found me.
“What are you doing here?” I snap.
“Well, I was told that you like drinking here, so I decided to show up.” He chuckles, sitting next to me.
Mike nearly chokes on his drink and a familiar wave of heat that I associate with Jacob passes through my body. It’s easy enough to say that I’m over him, that I have been for the past five years, but it’s just another lie.
“Jacob, nice to see you, buddy. What a coincidence, huh?” Mike asks stupidly, eyeing his muscular body. I involuntary bite my lip, telling myself that he is here to tell me that he changed his mind about me being his solicitor.
“I wanted to catch Dora. I hope I’m not interrupting?” he asks, sitting next to me and brushing his arm against mine. I feel the electricity and the tension that suddenl
y settles between us. I hate that he’s playing this game with me, that he is teasing me like that. Bastard.
“We’re having drinks, Jacob. You had three days to get in touch. You can make an appointment during my office hours,” I tell him, waving to the waiter to get me another drink. Mike keeps looking between me and Jacob with a bemused expression on his face.
“I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow,” he says, sitting too close to me, with that enticing aftershave. God, why does he have to smell so good? “So where is that hot fiancé of yours? I thought that he would be here with you.”
“Fian—”
I kick Mike in the shin under the table before he ruins this whole lie for me.
“He is working late, but he’s glad that Mike is here with me to keep me company,” I say quickly and Mike glares at me, massaging his shin. Jacob laughs. He might not buy my lies, but I’m not backing down. Us working together is too dangerous. I don’t know if I can push him away for the second time.
“Shame. I wouldn’t let you sit drinking in the bar after work if you were mine,” Jacob leans over and whispers into my ear, sending delicious vibrations down my abdomen. Mike clears his throat, telling me to change my behaviour, but I can speak to him later. The buzzing lust in my body is prompting me to flirt back.
“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m not yours, darling, not anymore at least,” I whisper back, brushing my lips against his cheek. I don’t know if it’s the pretend confident me or the fact that I must have had one too many cocktails.
Mike rises from his seat all of a sudden and gives me that “trouble” look. I already know what’s going on inside his head.
“I’ll leave you guys to it. I have a hot date and I need to make myself look pretty,” he says all of a sudden.
“What date? I don’t know anything about it,” I challenge, feeling a blush that scorches down through me at the prospect of being alone with Jacob.
“I forgot to mention it. Jacob, please make sure Dora gets home safely,” Mike calls, smiles and then starts walking away, winking at me. I can’t believe that my best friend has just abandoned me with the hottest rugby player in the city, who just so happens to be my ex and my client.
“Of course, you don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure that she’s safe and sound. Thanks, man,” Jacob shouts after him. Then a moment later, Mikes simply disappears in the crowd. Jacob grins when I glance back at him feeling slightly flustered.
“So it took you long enough to call me,” I tell him, forgetting about the distance that I should be putting between us. “My dad doesn’t know that you’re the client, but I’m sure he will be in heaven when he finds out.”
“There is your drink, sir, on the house,” says an alluring voice beside me. A pretty waitress places a beer next to Jacob, winks at him and then leaves. The bastard keeps his eyes on her arse until she disappears in the crowd, swaying her hips from side to side. I’m fuming, but in that moment I realise that he is perfectly fine with shit like that, because he is young, handsome and absolutely available.
Jacob
I intentionally keep staring at the waitress’s arse, just to show Dora that I’m single and clearly willing to date or hook up. Her sharp green eyes drill through me. She has had way too much to drink. I know the score. I’ve been there and done that too many times.
“I needed some time to think, and I was gathering all the stuff that was needed for your case, you know, so I’m prepared. Maybe we should go to my place, so I can show you what I’ve been working on?” I suggest. She shakes her head, instantly finishing her drink. I have been here, what—barely ten minutes and Dora has managed to drink two strong cocktails. I’m not judgmental, especially with my history, but that’s not normal, and where the hell is the fiancé?
“Your home, oh, hold on. You want to show me your bed, right, like the other night with the blonde?” she asks, hiccupping. There should be no reason for me to be turned on, but my cock is stiff. The thing is that I’m making this easy for myself. If we sleep together tonight, that will be it. On the other hand, I’m not the kind of guy that would take advantage of a drunken lady.
“You’re right. It’s a bad idea. We should do that tomorrow instead.
“Besides, I’ve already got it started. Sarah Willcock will be served tomorrow morning.”
“Great. Let me take you home,” I say, getting up and pushing her glass away.
“All right, Mr. Grumpy, fine, but I need to use the bathroom first,” she mumbles, gets up, stumbles a little, but manages to walk a straight line all the way to the bathroom.
I check my messages and emails. There is one from that bitch that I’m going to sue. She wants to meet with me for an exclusive interview. She has a lot of nerve; let’s see how chatty she feels when she has been served tomorrow.
Dora doesn’t stay long in the bathroom, and when she starts to stumble and bump precariously into other people, I storm through the crowd, hook my arms under her legs and around her back and carry her outside. She mumbles incoherently for a long time. I wish I understood what she was saying. I could probably use it against her.
I call a taxi and when the guy arrives, he doesn’t look too keen with helping me out. I throw him some cash just to shut him up and then somehow manage to get Dora inside.
“Where to?” he asks, staring at me through the front mirror. I look at Dora, but she is already out like a light and unable to give me her address. This isn’t the way I had this all planned out tonight. I wanted to see her, expecting a normal civilised conversation. Instead I have a drunken Dora.
“Twenty-seven Mulberry Grove, Chelsea,” I finally tell him, not knowing what I’m supposed to do with her once we get there. Maybe I should check her phone for the address to that douche, so he knows that at least she is still alive and well.
We get outside my apartment forty minutes later, and by that time Dora is already snoring. I should have at least taken Mike’s number. I try to wake her, but that doesn’t work, so I end up carrying her upstairs. Old Johnny helps me with the doors. That’s right, I’m paying enough to live in a place like that.
Finally when I put her in the spare bedroom and take a few deep breaths I realise how beautiful she looks. That physical attraction to her from years ago is still there, pumping loud and clear.
I stand in front of her, admiring the lush curves of her body, the fullness of her lips, remembering how she felt in my arms. Then I realise what I’m doing and scold myself for acting like a complete lovesick teenager. She was the one who cheated, but I’m the one that’s attempting to rekindle the old history.
I take a couple of deep breaths to compose myself and I start to undress her. It’s an invasion of her privacy, but she will sleep better without her clothes. I slowly take off her boots, jacket, and socks. My pulse speeds up and memories rush through me like a freight train—us in bed together, making love and making plans for our future. Fuck, I need to get a grip. I’m here because I want revenge, nothing else.
Moments later I take off her pencil skirt and blouse. Yep, I might be a bit of a perv, but I’m allowed to claim her; she used to be mine. I remember well every curve of her body that I used to trace with my tongue.
I fold her clothes and go to put her bag on top of them, but her mobile falls out. Maybe another small invasion won’t matter. I bring her phone to life to have a snoop, but it has a passcode and there are no miscalls. Odd that her fiancé hasn’t tried to contact her.
She mumbles words and when I’m just about to cover her, I spot marks on her thighs. There are dozens of marks about an inch long, some an angry red of a recent wound, some a paler pink of a recently healed wound, and some a silvery white of long-healed scars. I want to run my finger over them, just to be sure that I’m not hallucinating, but I stop myself. It’s Dora’s business, but my intuition tells me that she has done this to herself. Why on earth would Dora feel the need to self-harm? No. I shake my head. She wouldn’t do that. When we were together, yes, she was a bi
t insecure. She covered it well with being loud and loving, but I just knew it. Now I have no idea if I even know the real Dora at all, because this one is a completely different person from five years ago, like an echo of the real Dora, of my Dora.
Chapter Six
Chemistry.
Dora
I stir gently smiling at the scent of fresh linen, not remembering changing the bedding this week at all. My head hurts. The annoying beeping sound of my alarm lets me know that it’s six o’clock in the morning and it’s time to drag myself out of bed. I must have had a wild night last night because my whole body is aching badly, and my head pounds painfully. Mike should have talked me out of going out to Delux.
When I finally open my eyes, I realise that I’m not in my own room. The walls are a creamy white with soft grey and navy blue accents. There is a large TV on the wall and the whole space just looks so masculine. A cold chill slides down my spine as memories from the night before begin racing through my mind rapidly. Jacob showed up unexpectedly, ruining my evening yet again. Mike didn’t even try to help me; he vanished soon enough, making some stupid excuse about a date.
I pull up the covers realising that I’m only wearing my knickers and white skimpy top. The rest of my clothes are on the chair, next to the bed. Holy crap. Jacob must have undressed me when I passed out. I remember drinking a lot, and then everything else is kind of blurry.
I rub my eyes and decide to get up. Last night I got drunk, thinking that the alcohol would make me forget how worthless my life is and make me feel a little better about myself and maybe forget about all the lies that I told that day. I’m certain that Jacob brought me back to his apartment. He wouldn’t dare take me to a hotel. The fact that he didn’t call upset me more than it should have. I sat in front of that phone waiting, and with each passing day I began crumbling. This whole lie about being engaged has gotten me nowhere. I should have told him the truth, but I was too scared of my old feelings, the emotions that I’ve tried hard to bury deep inside.
All About Them (Love & Hate #2) Page 4
