Bailey thought about her own experience with drunks. Her husband Joe’s drinking problems were the reason she'd divorced him in the first place. It was why he was no longer allowed to see Lily under any circumstance. Now she had managed to get herself paired up with another alcoholic again. And this time, the man seemed even worse.
Still, the contract was in her hand. The money was more than she had ever seen in a lifetime, and it only covered a month’s worth of work. All she had to do was get through a couple months of this and then she could get her daughter back and start her life all over again. She could manage a couple of months, right?
“I can handle it, Jonathan. Show me where I'll be staying.” She held her head up high as she followed the agent outside to the pool house where her apartment was. It was as grand as the house itself with its large wooden furniture, wide bay windows, and mini-sized chandelier lighting.
The few boxes with her things had already arrived and were sitting out in her new dining room. Jonathan took a look at the small pile and shook his head annoyed. “I'm sure the rest of your things will be arriving shortly. I can call them if you like.”
Bailey was still transfixed by the whole place as she walked around the plush carpet slowly, taking in every bit of the apartment. “No, that won’t be necessary. This is everything.”
He went over a few details more and then handed her the keys to the home, the pool house, and the front gate. “Mr. Connelly will be home from the hospital tomorrow. He'll need as much peace and quiet as possible. I'd like you to do me a favor, one which I assure you we will compensate you for, by letting me know if he has any visitor, male or female, and if he drinks. Just write down his activities and visitors for me and then report back to me when I check in. Can you do this?”
Bailey smiled and took the small spiral notebook he'd left for her on the counter. This job may not be easy, nor may it be glamorous, but it would be worth it.
***
2:15 pm. LC drinks ¼ bottle of whiskey.
3:45 pm. Visit from woman (did not get her name)
5:45 pm. Woman leaves. LC drinks another ¼ bottle of whiskey.
Bailey was scribbling fast and furious as the sound of glass breaking made her eyes flutter rapidly from the stress. It was just another day for her, another notebook page being full with Mr. Connelly’s “activities.”
When she closed the notebook, she turned around towards the kitchen and grab the tray of food and walked towards the master suite where the noise was coming from. She knocked gently, knowing that no one would answer. He never did.
“Mr. Connelly, this is Bailey. I have your dinner ready for you. It’s a pork loin with mashed potatoes and broccoli along with some soup. It’s my grandmother’s french onion soup recipe. I'll set it outside your door for you. Please call me when you’re ready for your room to be cleaned. I’ll just be in the second floor cleaning a bit.” She waited for a reply with her ear pressed up against the door like a child listening to their parents. When she heard nothing, she sat the tray down and walked out towards the staircase.
An alarm buzzed on her handheld security system monitor. She spoke into the receiver, “Hello? Who is this?”
“This is Lyanna Michaels here for Mr. Connelly. He’s expecting me.”
Bailey went through the list of contacts that Leo had approved. Her name was there at the top of the ‘M’s.’ “I’ll let you in Ms. Michaels.” Bailey pressed the receive button as she listened for the faint sound of the iron gate opening and closing behind Lyanna’s car. She then raced down the hallway to the front door where she smoothed out the folds of her black shirt and silk gray top and adjusted the pearl necklace around her neck.
She opened the door to see a white luxury car pull up to the front and a woman with blonde flowing hair exit. She was wearing a skin tight purple mini-dress that just barely covered the curve of body. Her gaudy gold necklaces bounced upon her chest as she walked in stiletto heels. Bailey opened the french door for her and then began to explain how to get to Leo’s bedroom.
“No need, honey. I know very well where it was.” She winked at Bailey as she walked through the living space through the hallway to the master bedroom. She knocked on the bedroom door and then called in when he did not answer right away. Suddenly, the door flew open and a shirtless man with long dark hair walked out. He looked Lyanna up and down approvingly and then ushered her into the bedroom. Bailey could hear the woman let out a girlish giggle as Leo looked at her from the doorway.
He did not immediately go inside though. Instead, he stood there looking across the hallway at where Bailey stood. Moments passed in which both stared blanky at one another, each struggling to make out the other’s figures in the dim light. Neither knowing why or what they were looking at.
It was Bailey who realized her place, that she was staring into something private. She put her head down, back to the work at hand, as she shuffled up the stairs to the third floor. But her hand shook as it grasped the staircase’s ledge. Her mind raced but into no specific direction. The encounter had her rattled.
Leo too had felt the same pull. He had listened to the woman’s voice every day since had returned, he'd watched her from the corners of the hallway when he asked her to clean, and he'd eaten her food eagerly. Each day, he found something seemingly more fascinating than the next about how extraordinary she was. Yet he couldn’t place exactly what made him watch.
Today, it was the soup. It was how she said my grandmother’s recipe as the bowl made a clink sound when she placed it upon the ground. It was the taste of it. He had never had someone cook him something homemade. Even when his old family caretaker cooked for him, it was always boxed meals or something from his trainer’s meal plans. No one had ever offered him such a thing.
He retrieved the tray and placed it upon the small cafe table in the corner of his room and watched it from afar as if it were some bomb about to explode. The knock from Layanna was the only thing that had brought him out of the spell.
The moment with the housekeeper in the hallways was what brought him back to life.
He had forgotten completely that she'd begged him to come over. An old girlfriend, she still paid her calls when she was feeling lonely or he had been in the news. She strut into the room with her hair, hair, and boobs. She didn’t say a word, just sank into his massive king sized bed waiting for him to join her from his stay in the hallways.
When Bailey had passed, Leo walked into the room, looking more haggard and tired than ever. He quickly strutted over to his mini bar and took another shot of the whiskey and then poured his company a glass. As he handed it to Lyanna, he asked, “Why are you here today?”
Her high pitched voice teetered on playful teasing and moronic. “I saw the news. 3 days in the hospital, a hooker, and some housemaid found you? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I thought I taught you to hold your liquor better after that fight in Memphis.”
“I don’t wanna talk about that.” He cut her off almost instantly; it was just another thing in his life that was off-limits.
“Well, I’m not in much of a talking mode either.” She sat up and began to crawl to the edge of the bed. She began to slowly slip off the straps of her purple dress. Her body danced as she reached behind her to unzip. She stood in her expensive lingerie with the lace and the see through mesh. He knew he should want nothing more than to unwrap the rest of her, to take her on that bed.
But the thought of the housekeeper had him seeing through the girl on the bed. She was just like the one in the hotel. Always wanting something, never there for nothing. As she eased off of the bed and stood before him, Leo brought it up once more, “You didn’t answer my question.”
She began to place gentle kisses upon his bare chest, tracing the lines of the tattoos. She murmured in between the touches, “What question?”
His head drooped back in pleasure and his body tensed and eased at the same time. But he looked down at her with her doe eyes and her pouty lips and grew more persistent. He turne
d his body away from her with a force that knocked her back. As she recoiled, he repeated, “Why. Are. You. Here?”
“For you, Lionheart. I’m here for you.” She tried once more to place her hands upon his neck. But again, he spun away. It was becoming clear that he was not going to bend to her will like he usually had. “Why are you asking? Isn’t this what you want.” She gestured to her body and the bed.
“No. Not with you.” He walked back towards his bar and pulled out a bottle of water. The cool, undefined liquid was a relief from the sweet and sour taste of alcohol.
Lyanna’s frustration boiled over. “What the hell, man! What the fuck is your problem?”
“You’re my problem. You and every single girl who tries to get something from me. You’re just here for the press, or maybe you think that I’m your permanent meal ticket. But I’ve got news for you. I’m not it. You picked the wrong fighter. So I’m asking you nicely to take your skinny ass out of my house now.”
The honesty poured out of his mouth. He was more than aware that his fame and wealth had cost him real relationships with women and friends that actually cared. But now, he was ready to clean house—starting with her.
She looked at him with narrow eyes and clenched fists as she grabbed the dress from the side of the bed. She slipped it on and then walked towards the door. Before leaving, she sneered to him and said, “You know what you’re problem is ‘Lionheart?’ You’re a loser. A washed up fighter who can't even pretend that he’s not past his prime. You’re living off your dead mommy and daddy’s wealth in their gated up mansion. And all you want is pussy and booze to get you through your day. But the time is coming when Jonathan won’t be able to convince the girls to give you want you want. And you’re going to run through your liquor faster than you can spend. And you’re going to die here. Penniless and alone. Enjoy, Leo. Enjoy.”
Lyanna closed the door behind her and walked into the hallway. Bailey had just come down the stairs in time to see her walk away in the huff, just slightly slipping on the waxed floors. Her watching the waddling woman struggling to zip up the back of her dress was interrupted by the sound of a man’s scream and then a crash louder than ever before.
Bailey knew that she should leave it alone, but she couldn’t ignore a cry like that one. She raced downstairs and towards the hallway. She didn’t bother to knock or to announce herself to the man. Instead, she threw open the door to see Leo quickly and abruptly turn her way, a book in his hand. The large hardcover flew at her with such force, she did not have time to duck from his anger.
CHAPTER NINE
Leo frantically paced the master suite, his cellphone in his hand. He whispered to himself urgently, “Come on, come on…”
A beep came from the other line and then the sound of the same recording Leo had listened to for the last eight attempts: “This is Jonathan Winters of Winters Talent. I'm not able to take your call, but please leave your name and number and one of my staff members will get back to you as soon as possible.”
“Jon, man. I've tried to call and text you a million times, but I need your help NOW. It’s that housekeeper you hired for me … Belinda or Barbie. Whatever her name is. I hit her. I didn’t mean to, but I hit her. And now I got a passed out chick on my bed with an imprint of a book on her forehead. I don’t know what to do! Call me back!”
Leo hung up and returned to his pacing. Every few steps, he would stop and gaze at the girl with the eyes tightly closed. He watched her carefully to see the heave of her chest and and the occasional twitch of her dainty fingers. Several times she moaned softly to herself, and Leo watched fascinated as her lips parted just slightly to let the sound out.
He was familiar with knock outs. He had been on the receiving end many times himself. The first was when he'd started to seriously fight. He was part of a teenage knuckle league where the blood flew fast and furious and the permanent damage was still etched on his scarred face and crooked nose.
Once he was discovered and his parents invested real money into his training, he saw the soft part of the mat less and less. Instead, it was his gloves that laid the blow to competitor after competitor. He didn’t just go into the ring looking to win. He got in to win decisively with a blow so powerful that no one could accuse him of being cowardly. It was how he get the nickname ‘Lionheart.’
But with his housekeeper being his latest victim from an untimely blow to the head from a flying book, nothing about him was the Lionheart. Instead, he was a ball of anxiety and nerves as he hovered over her spot on his bed. Her body curled like the letter ‘S’ into the white sheets and her long brown hair made rivers on the stack of pillows he laid propped up under her head. It took all of Leo’s will not to reach out and touch one of the loose strands.
After a few more minutes of stillness, Bailey began to stir. One eye fluttered open followed by another. She instinctively recoiled at the sight of the man hovering above her, watching her every move. She moaned softly, “What… what… ugh… what happened?” Her hand reached for the bruise at her temple and timidly touched the hot blue spot.
Leo looked at her with mad, wide eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to her in that moment. “Listen, I'm so sorry…” he searched for his name in her memory and continued to come up blank.
“It’s Bailey. Bailey Reed.” She outstretched her hand to him with a small smile upon her lips. He took it and gently began caressing at the fingers and the wrist. She wanted to pull away, but the sensation was almost magically moving the pain from her head. She sank back deeper into the bed as his massage intensified.
“Old boxing trick for head injuries. Always find the pressure points in the hands and wrist. I'd offer to do your feet, but I’m assuming that would be a bit forward.” His eyebrows shot up comically as she giggled in appreciation. A smile appeared on his sour face, the first real one in awhile. Her light was infectious.
“Well, thank you for that. It’s a good tip to know.” She released herself from his grip and slowly pushed herself up from the bed.
He jumped up, his hands moving towards her shoulders without a second thought as he eased her back down. “Where are you going? You can’t move!”
She took note of the urgency and concern in his voice, yet she still insisted, “Back to my room. It’s getting late, and there’s some laundry I need to do there for you.”
“Are you cra—” He stopped himself. Leo wasn’t sure what his intentions were. She was the help. It was her job to recover and get to work. Yes, he caused the injury, but it was an accident. He could not find one reason to keep her from walking out that door.
… Except that he wanted nothing for her to just lie there for as long as possible. He wasn’t done tracing the lines of her body or memorizing the soft wrinkles near her eyes and the pattern of her fingers as they tapped against the sheets. He wanted more of her, even if he could not verbalize it.
She took advantage of his pause and swung a leg over the side and then lifted off. The sudden motion made her head swirl and spin. She lost her balance and control as she slid backwards uncontrollably like a rag doll.
But Leo’s arms were there. He caught her before her head could even hit the bed. With one swift movement, he lifted her into his large, muscular arms and hoisted her up near his face. She let out a yelp as he reassured her, “I’ve got you. Don’t move.”
Her head continued to spin like a top. Her focus blacked in and out as she struggled to make sense of what was going on. All that she could tell was that she was now moving. Bailey could only make out the vague imprints of the rooms and their walls as they walked outside of the house and into her apartment in the pool house. At the door, Leo moved his hands around her hips until he felt the hard imprint of her keys. He fished out the right one and opened the door, taking her over the threshold and straight towards her own bedroom.
Leo placed her down on the tattered quilt spread out upon her bed, “I like what you’ve done to the place.”
Bailey smiled tiredly and
then curled back up with her knees touching her chest. He again placed his hands on her shoulders to straighten her body out. “You have to lay flat, okay?”
“Another boxing tip?”
He nodded and whispered, “Another boxing tip.” He looked around the freshly painted room till he spotted the entry to her bathroom. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get you a glass of water.” He repaired in moments with one of her pale blue glasses in hand. He held the rim of it to her lips.
Bailey leaned back and thanked him. “I’m quite alright. I’ll be fine in the morning. I just need to sleep it off.”
“After you took that tumble on my bed, I’m not letting you sleep anymore. It’s probably a concussion.” He pulled up one of her desk chairs to the side of her bed, “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“You should be a doctor or something.”
“I’m not in operating condition, if you know what I mean.” Leo was still tipsy from his bender earlier. But the sight of a helpless Bailey had sobered him up quickly. Drinking was far from his mind.
Possessive_Sons of Chaos MC Page 28
