But the worst was that he was really nice, too. Unlike Dominic who was prickles and sharp edges, and admittedly a soft centre somewhere underneath. Roan Hancock was charming, funny and even observant. It made Cheryl blush.
He asked how come she’d ended up here and she told him she’d escaped a troubled past.
“So how long have you lived here and how did the running away work out?”
“Just over a year now, and for all intents and purposes, it did. Left the main problem at home and haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since.”
“Ah, that kind of problem.”
“Root of all problems some of my more bitter friends would say.”
“You don’t agree?”
Her eyes drifted to Dominic, who was standing with glass in hand on the other side of the pool, speaking to a couple of men. He looked so very relaxed, so comfortable in every situation. She’d always envied him that. “Maybe the source of complexities.”
“Life simpler when single?”
“Can’t deny that.”
“I’ve never actually been in a proper relationship,” he said and Cheryl’s gaze immediately switched back. The thought shocked her, but it probably shouldn’t. The world would be a playground to someone like him.
“I’m not really selling the whole idea well, am I?” she said, feeling herself flare red again. “It is certainly not something you want to do wrong.”
“And how did you do it wrong, if you don’t mind me asking.”
Did she mind him asking? They were having a deeply personal conversation right off the bat. Actually, she didn’t mind. There was nothing about herself or her past that she hid, if anyone cared to ask, which apparently Roan Hancock, of all people, did. “I got distracted by a handsome face.”
“Ah,” he said, looking a little puzzled.
“Beauty does not equal character, it turns out, but I didn’t know that when I was younger.”
“Does not necessarily exclude it.”
“No, but you can’t take one as proxy for the other.”
Roan leaned back and placed his arms on the arm rests. Had she upset him? Was she supposed to mollycoddle him and tell him beauty was the most important thing in the world?
“There are a lot of people in the world who think beauty is the only valuable trait,” he stated.
“Well, try being married to it and you’ll soon learn.”
He chuckled. “Stayed well clear of any such lessons.”
“Can’t blame you,” she admitted. “Not something I’d rush into again, even though everyone is pushing me to find someone, at times with a degree of desperation felt on my behalf. What is so wrong with being single?”
“That you’re alone,” he said without apparently having to think about it. Was that what he was, alone?
“Speaking of gorgeous, you seem to be attached to the reigning queen.” One could not have opened a fashion magazine in the last five years and not know who Cheyenne Terpa was. For a while, she had ruled the world. Together Roan and her were akin to Zeus and Hera, at least in the beauty stakes.
Roan’s eyes roamed over to where the leggy woman stood. She had a compelling presence, Cheryl had to admit—long, slim body and not a bit shy about it. “It is a superficial relationship, if I’m honest. There are many interesting things about her, but I can’t say that I know her, if you know what I mean. Or maybe I just don’t understand her.”
“Yet she led you all the way here.”
“Maybe the adventure called to me.”
“Well, we agree there,” she said and held her glass out. “And in all honesty, it is not a bad place to be.”
“So I gather,” he said, meeting her toast. “Although the women here are irrepressible.”
Cheryl laughed again. “I am sure you have the deepest sympathy of every man here,” she said sarcastically.
“You need another drink, and so do I. What will you have?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure she needed another drink, but felt rude saying no when they were having such a nice conversation. “A G&T, I suppose, but a single shot.” The last thing she wanted was to leave her car here and come crawling back to Dominic’s house in the morning. For some reason, she would feel his disapproval. That was the thing with him, even as he had been extraordinarily kind to her, he, on some level, had always disapproved of her. It was never explicit, but it was there, almost as if he tried to hide it, was even ashamed of it, but it never quite left.
Roan returned with two drinks in hand, handing one over to her. A moment of starstruckness returned when she realised that the hottest movie star in the world had just gone and got her a drink. Stuff like this would never happen back in the UK.
Chapter 23
Out of the side of his eye, Dominic could not help but notice that Cheryl was spending an inordinate amount of time with that movie star who had somehow appeared at his birthday party. Bianca really had pulled out all the stops with the invitations.
Although, this man and Cheryl were the oddest combination he could think of, and his initial reaction was concern that this man would hurt her, would somehow ridicule her. As hard as Cheryl’s surface was, it was hard for a reason and Dominic was worried this man would barge in and crack it.
Dominic already knew he felt protective of Cheryl. It had been something that had flared in him when he’d first met her and it hadn’t quite stopped. Feeling protective of women wasn’t his usual stance, primarily because the women in his life never needed it. He didn’t know what that said about him, but it hadn’t exercised that muscle in him until he’d met Cheryl.
Looking over, he saw that she was still talking to that movie star. Was he turning her head? Surely, someone like that would not be interested in simply someone to talk to. Why was he speaking to her? What were his intentions?
As he watched, Cheryl laughed and Dominic felt uncomfortable. It couldn’t be jealousy he felt. That would be outlandish, but he certainly didn’t like this man speaking to her. Maybe he should go over there and check on her.
“Some say the commodities rates are set to plummet, but there are always the naysayers. What do you think, Dom?”
Dominic was being drawn back into the conversation. “Depends if there is an oversupply,” he said absently. “If you know what to look for, you can see them coming and act accordingly.”
“Although, they also said that global warming will make everything unpredictable,” said a woman Dominic had met before, but didn’t know.
“Well, one must plan for that, too.”
“Global warming?” Frank Hubbard said with surprise. “I didn’t take you for—”
“For what?” the woman cut in aggressively.
“In business, one must plan for all eventualities. Excuse me,” he said and moved away from the group. Cheryl had risen and the heart throb was giving her a peck on the cheek. That was a familiarity that developed quickly. Had she fallen for some line, had she?
She was heading back to the house, digging through her purse, suggesting she was leaving.
Dominic caught up with her inside and she turned her bright, smokey eyes on him. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the party.”
“Yes, absolutely,” she responded. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Felix was responsible, actually, but there was no need to point that out. “You are welcome. Anytime, of course.” Why had he said that? He hadn’t actually meant it, now getting visions of her bringing her boys over for a dunk in his pool. Obviously, he wouldn’t strictly mind if it wasn’t for how uncomfortable he felt about her at times, but he just wasn’t sure what message he had just sent by providing an open invitation. “But I don’t tend to throw parties often,” he added, feeling it was a nice recovery. “I saw you met one of our more illustrious newcomers.”
Cheryl stared at him for a moment before she seemed to comprehend. “Oh, yes, lovely man. It’s strange when you meet people you’ve seen and they turn out to be really nice.”
He wanted to warn her
off, to tell her not to be foolish, although he had absolutely no right to. “It is strange the people who turn up here, at times.” She was holding her car keys. “Are you saying goodnight to us?”
“I’d better before someone places another drink in my hand.”
“I hope you are alright to drive. I can have my driver take you home. Didn’t he bring you here?”
“He called, but I said I was fine to find my own way. I’m sure he was busy enough with the party preparations. No doubt others will need assistance home tonight.” Was that a blush he saw? Well, it was hard to tell under her makeup.
Things grew awkward, and he hated how she always made him feel that way. She was the only person who managed to, maybe out of some guilt at thinking she didn’t and would never quite fit in here. But at the same time, it was an issue he observed, while she seemed to show little compunction to fit in with the fashion and trend of Marbella. Maybe her more humble roots just refused to budge.
“Thanks for the offer, though,” she said. “You are kind.”
“I’m not, actually,” he admitted. “Kindness is not what I’m known for.”
Cheryl looked uncomfortable and he hadn’t meant to make her feel so.
“Ah, here you are,” Bianca’s cultured, dulcet voice said. “Saying goodbye to one of the guests. I’m sorry you are leaving us.”
Annoyance crept into Dominic’s thoughts as Bianca had so readily taken on the job of hostess, and the ‘us’ did sound like it was a job readily given to her. In fact, it sounded like they were together, and by the look on Cheryl’s face, that was exactly how she took it. A part of him wanted to clarify, but maybe it was better this way, a barrier, even if imaginary.
“Spectacular party,” Cheryl said. “I better head back to my boys. Thanks again.”
“Bye now,” Bianca said with a smile. “And good riddance. Tenants are really not appropriate for parties like these, Dom. They just can’t help but bring the standard down.” Even though it to some degree reflected his own thoughts on Cheryl, it grated when someone else said so about her, and so dismissively. While he thought that, he never dismissed Cheryl, and could appreciate the strength she displayed. Bianca saw none of that, though, just some unsuitable guest she couldn’t wait to get rid of, in case she brought the tone down. That was not what Dominic cared about, saw only the complications on a more personal level.
“I don’t think you need to worry about standards, Bianca,” he said. “And Cheryl is an appreciated member of our community.”
Bianca’s mouth tightened. “There must be some limits, Dom.”
“Things are different here.”
Bianca looked unconvinced.
Chapter 24
Inns arrived late to class and purposefully sat away from her. God, he was so immature, Esme thought. Professor Wallis was up the front, commencing his lecture and Esme turned back to the front and leaned her head on her pitched hands. At times, it was hard for her thoughts not to wander. The nitty gritty of getting her degree was actually quite boring, particularly when he was speaking about stuff she couldn’t care about, like financial structure. Wasn’t that what you hired people for?
Well, she still needed to decide what her own business should be. Megan had a really cool idea going with the Marbella-inspired beachwear, which meant that idea was now taken. Thinking of a business was actually really hard. Inns had it different, though. He was just going to inherit one. And luckily, Felix was stepping up with Dunbury Industries, which meant she didn’t have to. There was nothing about Dunbury Industries that was remotely fun or cool. No, she wanted something small, something about her, that showed her flair.
With a sigh, she tried to concentrate on the detail of financial structure. Then abruptly Professor Wallis left to go retrieve something. Esme got up and walked down the row to where Inns sat. “How are we going to finish this project?” she asked.
“I already turned it in.”
Esme was stumped for a moment. “Just like that, no checking with me at all?” He refused to look her in the eye as if the conversation was over. He really was a rude little shit. “Rude, Inns. If you’re going to get anywhere in business, maybe you need to work on your personal communication skills.”
Turning her back on him, she walked back to her seat, fuming with annoyance. Now she had no idea what he’d turned in. It was unfair and maybe she should complain. Fundamentally, she didn’t think he’d done a crap job, but still. Maybe she should just let it go. Could be he was irrationally bitter about the fact that his bits had been inside hers. Who knew what went on in his twisted mind.
Well, it seemed she was done with him and maybe that was a good thing. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again of partnering with him. He truly didn’t play well with others. It was such a shame, because he wasn’t bad looking if one looked past the persistent scowl. He actually had really nice cheekbones, and lips. Eyes weren’t too bad. Blue from what she could recall. It was just the personality that ruined it all. What did he gain from being like that?
Any thoughts of him fled when Professor Wallis returned. The lecture was back on and Esme tried to take notes, because she knew she wasn’t going to remember any of this.
*
As sometimes happened, the group was congregating at Aggie’s house. Some people might go out afterwards, seek other diversions, but mostly they just stayed put, chatted, drank and nibbled. Aggie was always very hospitable and invariably had a full bar. Her pool area tended to have a nice breeze too, which was important.
Driving up the hills to Aggie’s house, Esme parked her sporty little Audi and walked to the front door. Aggie’s parents were away, apparently, and Esme suspected they were meeting here because Aggie couldn’t be bothered leaving the house.
“Hey,” she said to everyone as she made her way outside. Felix wasn’t there, but he rarely went anywhere these days—playing house with Shania as he was. It wasn’t healthy being so completely caught up in themselves, but Felix had never been one for finding balance; he jumped in head first and ended up drowning most of the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t drown this time, because he would be impossible to live with. Then again, Shania was probably just as loopy as he was. They suited each other so well. If he couldn’t make it work with her, there was no hope for him.
“Esme,” Aggie said, sitting with her legs crossed on a cushy seat around a low table. Candles in glass vases lit the area, along with tasteful lighting in the tropical garden. “Sit down. How are things?”
“Good,” Esme said. “Well, same old, really. You know. Studying.”
“How’s that going?”
“Okay. A few bumps, but nothing to worry about.”
“You should intern with Megan. She’s doing really well,” Aggie said.
It wasn’t actually a bad idea. She could also then leverage the networks and suppliers Megan already had in place. It would mean doing something within fashion, but that was where she naturally gravitated anyway. Not beach wear, but something else. She wasn’t creative enough to design, but maybe like skincare or something. What was it she didn’t know about skincare? Well, probably everything when it came down to the details, but she knew the active ingredients. She could make a Marbella range of skincare. Maybe have some local antioxidant ingredients.
Goosebumps rose across her skin at the very thought. It was as if the idea fit perfectly. That was what she was going to do. It was perfect. Why hadn’t she seen it before? White lab coat and everything. She would have to start a little factory, and Dunbury Industries could source any ingredient she needed at the best possible prices. Joy bubbled up her belly and she felt an urge to tell Inns.
Of all the people she wanted to talk to, she wanted to talk to Inns. Perhaps that wasn’t so strange as they were both on this business journey, although he had veered off and done his own thing.
Looking back at the house, she saw a lit window in what she knew was his room. He refused to come down here and interact with anyone, sitting in his ro
om doing God-knows-what. Like a prince in a tower, cut off and isolated. She couldn’t understand why he did that. Why didn’t he just come down here? Alright, she got that he didn’t enjoy the company and only attended under protest, but she didn’t understand why.
“Have a drink,” Aggie suggested.
“Yeah, I will, in a minute. I’ll be right back,” she said and rose from her seat. She made her way inside and looked around before walking up the stairs. Why was she feeling like she was doing something wrong, like she was sneaking around behind someone’s back?
With a quick rap, she knocked on Inns’ door and it took a moment before he opened it. He was dressed like he normally was, shirt and chinos. At no point had he ever looked undone, except maybe that time in the theatre. The brief memory of it sent a flare of something through her mind.
“Hey,” she said, but he didn’t say anything. “What are you doing?”
“Reading.”
“Can I come in?”
For a moment, he looked as if was searching for a way to argue, but couldn’t manage to find something. “If you must.”
“I’ve thought of my business,” she said and walked into his room, taking a seat on the edge of the perfectly made bed. She knew instinctively that he’d made it himself, that boarding school habit that was probably so ingrained it felt wrong to leave a messy bed. Would he make the bed on his honeymoon, she wondered.
“What business?” he asked, grudgingly drawn into conversation.
“My future. The business I will start. I’m gonna start a skincare line.”
He stared at her absently for a moment. “You need to be a chemist to create formulas.”
“No, you need to hire chemists,” she said pointedly and he couldn’t argue her point. “Believe me, there is very little I don’t know about skincare.” Well, that wasn’t absolutely true, but she knew a lot and could easily learn what she needed—or hire someone to tell her. Her dad had once said that the trick to being good at business was to hire smart people who knew what they were doing.
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