Marbella Neat

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Marbella Neat Page 17

by Camille Oster


  “I think you will be successful at whatever you try. Plus, you have the discipline and capital to start a business.” People underestimated how important that was. It made or broke a business. Ideas were one thing; carrying it through took another set of skills.

  She smiled. His approval seemed to have assured her. Maybe she was too soft, he considered, but then she had survived fashion, hadn’t she?

  They’d walked far enough. “It is getting warmer. We should head back for lunch.”

  “It is so quiet here,” she said, her eyes in the distance.

  “Even the birds rest during the day.” Was she aware that his family would all rest after lunch? A coffee in the late afternoon, and then they would drive back.

  She looked furtive, anxious. Blue eyes looked at him, accentuated by makeup, which didn’t stand out; instead, she looked natural and fresh, alive and healthy. What had her so worried?

  To his surprise, she stepped forwards, towards him into a kiss. It was the faintest of touches, more a statement than a kiss. He wasn’t exactly sure how to receive it. She hadn’t beaten around the bush and had just stated her intention—physically.

  She was blushing as she pulled away and couldn’t look him in the eye.

  Well, this was interesting. She wanted something between them. To be his girlfriend, perhaps. It was unlikely she was the type to look for a naughty little secret. She wouldn’t have come to visit his parents if that was the case, which indicated that she wanted something more, but what? A husband? She was too young for that. A boyfriend then, but why him? Why not one of the rich, spoilt boys in Marbella—one of her own kind?

  “You stole a kiss,” he said teasingly.

  “I’m sorry. No, I’m not sorry. I suppose I have a naughty side.”

  No, she didn’t. There was nothing naughty about her—she was offering her heart. Problem was: he wasn’t sure he was ready to receive it—or her. She wasn’t the kind of girl he had seen himself being with—one some would call the enemy, the invaders. He wasn’t one of those people, but he knew a few thought that way, and he would be a traitor aligning himself with her.

  “Come,” he said. “Mama will have lunch ready.” His family would be kind but wary of her. They took a bit of time to warm up to someone, particularly if they weren’t Spanish, but they would if he chose her.

  Chapter 47

  Never would Felix assumed that the weekends would be the worst time of the week. He’d always assumed that when he’d start working, the weekends would be the only thing that kept him sane, but the opposite was true. He had no purpose on the weekends. Obviously, he could choose to spend it utterly shitfaced. That tended to make time pass quickly, but for some reason he wasn’t rushing out there, partially because he knew he’d end up on his knees, asking Shania to fuck him, or something infinitely worse. Somehow he would run into her and there would only be one thing on his mind. And his mouth would probably run with all sorts of crap.

  You weren’t in a good state if you couldn’t trust yourself to get drunk.

  With a groan, he punched the pillow on the sofa next to him. Maybe he should just refuse to get out of his pyjamas. Could be he had finally cracked, he conceded. Not since he was fourteen had he so relentlessly thought about sex. It was keeping him up at night.

  “You look like death warmed up,” Esme said, languidly walking down the stairs. “I’m going to lunch. We’re meeting at Apparif’s. Are you coming?”

  “No,” he said, unable to bear sitting with the crew, subjected to the relentless regurgitation of meaninglessness.

  “You really need to lay off the plonk, Felix. You look like crap.”

  Which was funny as he hadn’t really had any. Okay, maybe a bit of whiskey, which might have turned into slightly more than a bit, but he hadn’t gone out. He’d stayed home last night, telling himself what an utter fucking idiot he was.

  Esme left and he heard her car pull away. The house was quiet again. He really should do something; he just couldn’t think what. And then there was noise again. He wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been since Esme had left, but he heard the garage door trundle open. Dad must be returning from golf or the Athletic Club, or whatever it was he did now that he’d decided to embrace the concept of a work/life balance. Perhaps he’d even been stalking that little hairdresser he seemed so obsessed about but wouldn’t admit it.

  “Felix,” he said as he walked in and dropped his keys on a side table. The sound echoed around the large space. Dominic walked forward. Golf. His dad was completely uninterested in golf. He must have been up at the crack of dawn.

  “Trying out new hobbies?”

  “Just playing a round.”

  “Did you walk or ride around in one of those stupid little carts?”

  “I played with Harold Tubbs.” Whose bulk would forbid walking. So no exercise and hours of hitting a pointless ball into an even more pointless hole. Swinging a golf club wasn’t even a skill that would ever serve another purpose. It wasn’t like archery or even running that could be of some use if the world as they knew it ended.

  Dominic walked into the kitchen. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you,” he said, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “Generally, the point of competing with someone for a promotion does not include screwing said competition on the boardroom table. You do know we have a camera in there, don’t you? It’s not as if it’s hidden.”

  Felix groaned again. “You knew that girl messes with my head when you brought her back here. You are equally as complicit in this as all other parties mentioned.”

  “Grow up, Felix. The office is not for getting off. It creates an uncomfortable environment for everyone, and you have placed me in an uncomfortable position.”

  “Then you should fire her.”

  “Maybe you need to have some loyalty to the women you sleep with.”

  Felix’s mouth opened and closed at the absurd statement. Loyalty to Shania? “Then I suppose you should better fire one of us,” he said tartly, although he knew Dominic wouldn’t fire either.

  “There is nothing wrong with the old fashioned way of getting a room. Tried and tested. Hell, you could even go so far as to ask the girl to dinner, but perhaps I am old fashioned in that regard.”

  Dominic obviously had absolutely no understanding of what was going on. This wasn’t something Felix had chosen. In fact, he would explicitly un-choose it if it was an option. It wasn’t exactly a great thing that he seemed compelled to shove his body parts into hers. On every level, it was incomprehensible. With a groan, Felix shook his head, feeling utterly misunderstood.

  “Maybe you are the one who’s completely misreading the situation,” Dominic said as if reading his mind. “You are in lust with this girl and you have been since the moment you set eyes on her.”

  Am not, he wanted to say, but there was only so far he could delude himself.

  “Perhaps your job is to determine what that means.” With a croissant in his mouth, a paper under his arm and a cup of coffee, Dominic breezed out of the room, heading to his office.

  “I get a funny feeling in my pants when I see slags?”

  Dominic didn’t respond. Apparently, his mental breakdown was uninteresting.

  “Why have you never sent me to rehab?” he asked, angry at being ignored.

  “Because it would be a waste of money,” Dominic called from his office. “As my father used to say: there’s no point fighting a battle you can’t win.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s inevitable I end up a lush?”

  “I was talking about your thing for Shania.”

  “Fuck off,” Felix said and crossed his arms tightly. He heard Dominic chuckle. “It will pass,” he muttered.

  Chapter 48

  Again Ricky sat alone in his apartment. The girl he’d been with, some tourist from Manchester, had just left, still drunk as she hopped into a taxi. He had asked her to leave, feeling awkward having her there after they�
�d fucked. They’d gone through the whole charade—the flirting, the seduction, not that there had been terribly much of it, and the payoff. Except he wasn’t feeling a victory now. He felt nothing but alone.

  He didn’t even know her name, and hadn’t cared. And that was returned. She couldn’t care less about him and had gotten what she’d come for—a holiday fling.

  Was that what he was now? Just some guy fulfilling people’s holiday fantasies. He actually felt used.

  Looking back on it, Shania had used him too, as had a string of girls going back as far as he could remember. For some reason, he’d seen it as him winning. Pulling a girl had been some kind of victory, but victory of what? He wasn’t some kid anymore, amazed that a girl would actually sleep with him.

  Megan had offered something different, something more, and he’d ridden roughshod over it like it was some stupid idea she’d come up with. Maybe he’d been scared, been a bit of a pussy about it. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the girls looking past the polished exterior. The girl from Manchester had only been interested in the polished look of him—a selfie and a story about the guy she slept with while on holiday in Marbella.

  What was truly scary were years of such encounters stretching ahead of him. The holiday guy in other people’s selfies, as if he was an extra in other’s lives. What the hell was he doing? Why had he come here?

  Because he’d thought it would be good for his career. When Megan had suggested it, he’d seen it as an opportunity, a way of taking a next step in his career. He’d discounted her pretty much from the start. Now he was here, stuck in this little dingy flat with no mates and brief encounters with girls who wanted a photo to put on Facebook.

  Maybe it was time to take stock, because he couldn’t say he was happy exactly. The career was going from strength to strength, but everything else had fallen to the wayside, and sitting here, alone in his little apartment, he felt like a complete loser.

  If he truly was going to make a go of being here, he needed more. Or maybe he was just getting to the point where pulling random girls had lost its lustre. He even missed his mum, who would do his laundry for him anytime he asked. He’d lost that, too.

  In London, he had all his mates and could so easily be absorbed into the lifestyle he had, but going back would be a step back in his career. He’d never thought of himself as someone who would give up on their career to go back and hang with mates, but now that it required some sacrifice, the appeal called.

  No, he had to stick it out here, and had to learn to create a life that was fulfilling to him, not other people. The random girls just weren’t doing it. Maybe it was time to think about being more settled.

  Megan crept into his mind. She was a mint girl and she’d been all his and he’d just let her slip away. In all honesty, he’d pushed her with heaving force. That made no sense now, but he’d done it. What he wouldn’t give for a do-over right now. He certainly would have done things differently. Megan came with a group of friends and an entire lifestyle, but somehow he’d told himself that pulling random girls was better.

  Was it possible to get her back? It was a tactic he’d never tried before and had no idea how to go about it. Sure, he’d soothed some ruffled feathers in his time and maybe this functioned in a fairly similar manner. But then there was fucking Jesus, who had somehow moved into the picture.

  In all honesty, he didn’t quite know what Jesus was all about. He was something else entirely and Ricky had a hard time reading the situation. Jesus was diverting Megan’s attention away, and Megan was withdrawing as a result. Whenever Ricky tried to apologise or engage with her, there wasn’t any heat there. It was as though she was already gone.

  Or maybe she was just better at playing the game than he gave her credit for, the one reeling him in. It could be that he was the one played here. In a way, he kind of hoped that was true, but he’d never read Megan as being so devious or manipulative. Aggie on the other hand, probably would.

  That got him thinking of Aggie, his main detractor. He could well imagine Aggie talking shit in Megan’s ear. Aggie seemed to see right through him, while Megan had only seen what he would represent to her. He’d seen Aggie as dangerous, the one who saw a little too much.

  What he’d liked about Shania was that she knew exactly what he was, but ultimately wasn’t interested. Aggie saw him too and had seen him as… He wasn’t entirely sure what she saw him as, but something detracting.

  Everything was so confused in his head, but he did know that it was time to move to the next level and get an actual girlfriend. It could be that he would try again with Megan, if Jesus could be pushed back out of the picture.

  Chapter 49

  It was nice to think she had the money to actually go places like this, Shania thought as she sat and waited for Esme to arrive at the restaurant Esme had chosen for their lunch date. It was very clean with lots of pine and pastel blue. Shania wasn’t entirely sure what this décor was supposed to represent, but it had nothing to do with Marbella or Spain. Macrobiotic food, Esme had said—whatever that meant. Shania just hoped she wouldn’t have to buy another lunch on the way home after.

  “Hey,” Esme said as she approached and placed her handbag down. Her dress certainly fit in with the décor here—short with blue flowers. It had a metal zip up the front. “How are you?” she said, sitting down. “Dirty girl.”

  “I take it you’ve heard. Is nothing private in this town?”

  “God, no.”

  “Did Felix actually brag about it?”

  “Felix is silent as the grave.”

  “Then how does everyone know?”

  Esme shrugged. “They just do.” She smiled.

  Why was she looking so happy about it? Actually, Shania didn’t want to talk about it. It was this illogical thing that had happened.

  Somehow she and Esme had slipped back into friendship. Shania hadn’t strictly intended it, but Esme texted and suggested, and in the end, they’d ended up meeting, and now they were lunching. She wasn’t a girl who lunched, but here she was, at a pretentious restaurant, having expensive Italian sparkling water and weird food no one in their right mind would eat. Marbella just got to you; it sucked you in.

  Well, she wanted to have a rant—anything to avoid thinking and then talking about the dipshit extraordinaire.

  “So what’s going on with you two?”

  Shania’s mouth grew together. “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

  “Just a thing, then. Tension which has been worked through and is now gone.”

  “So it was just like one of those things with Ricky?” Esme said, shoving a forkful of salad into her mouth.

  Shania shifted uncomfortably in her seat. No, it had been nothing like Ricky, whom she’d picked up for a bit a fun. The thing with Felix had just spontaneously occurred. There had been no thinking of any kind involved, but there was no explaining that to Esme. God, what a mess. “Yeah.”

  “Well, Felix is sitting at home in his pyjamas sulking.”

  “When isn’t he sulking?” Shania said tartly, grabbing a small bun that looked like mushed together bird food.

  “That is true. He sulked when you left and he sulked when you returned. But also, he hasn’t looked at another girl since you left.”

  With a snort, Shania gave Esme a chiding look. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I don’t believe you for a second.”

  “How’s your dish?”

  “Really good,” Shania lied. It was revolting—sprouts and beans and things she would never guess were edible.

  Esme looked pensive for a moment. “I’m serious, though. I think for a moment, when you two were stuck in a world for two, for like a second, he was the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

  “What are you suggesting? That me and Felix should be a couple?”

  Now it was Esme’s turn to shrug.

  “He hates my guts and the little thing we had—” a
bird seed stuck in her throat, “—was nothing more than venting a bit of rage.” It was still stomach-churning to think the world had veered sideways for a moment and they’d just about ripped each other’s clothes off. And now it was public knowledge. Although honestly, that wasn’t mortifying as much as it was something to point at to vent her frustration with the whole thing.

  “Sometimes I think someone should lock you two in a room, have you fight it out until… ”

  “Until what? Don’t be stupid, Esme. You seem to imply there is something there that’s just not.”

  “Well, maybe not for you, but I don’t think it’s the same for Felix.” Esme placed her fork down and leant back in her chair.

  “Trust me, Felix hates me more than I hate him.”

  “That’s because you get under his skin. Doesn’t that say something to you?”

  “Yes, stay the hell away. Please don’t think this is some situation where you should charge in and play cupid, because it’s not. What Felix dislikes about me isn’t even about me, it’s what I stand for. I am everything he hates personified.”

  “Yet, somehow he doesn’t seem to be able to keep his dick in his pants.”

  “You should not be talking about your brother that way.”

  “Just making a point. Actions speak louder than words, is all I’m saying.”

  This conversation was putting Shania off this already revolting food. She really was going to have to stop for a greasy burger on the way home. What she wouldn’t give for a nice cold coke right now, but instead she was stuck with this supposedly homemade elderflower cordial from some orchard in Denmark. The waiter had gone to expansive lengths to brag about that.

 

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