If someone asked me right now if I wanted world peace or his lips on mine, I know which one I’d choose. Wars could erupt right beside me and I wouldn’t notice.
Please kiss me, I beg silently.
His chest is panting too, like holding himself back is pure agony. I inch ever so slightly closer to him, gazing at his perfect plump crimson lips. He stays completely still, as a statue. Damn it, he’s not going to kiss me. I don’t know what I was thinking. I feel like such a fool. This is what happens when I drink prosecco. Slutty Ruby comes out to play.
I’m just about to officially give up when he takes my face in his hands and plants an urgent kiss on my lips. My eyes spring open in disbelief. I quickly let them flutter closed and let out a sigh of relief through my nose. It comes out more as a moan. I sound like a horn dog.
He kisses me softly, his hands working into my scalp. God, it feels heavenly. Did he work at a hairdresser when he was younger? Because with how skilled he is I wouldn’t be surprised. He teases at my mouth with his tongue. Our tongues tangle together, as if they were made to dance. As if I’ve been waiting my whole life to be kissed by him, only him.
His tongue eventually slips out and his kisses slow to closed lips. He pecks at my lips a few times, then kisses my nose, making my heart melt into a puddle of goo on the floor.
I open my eyes, unsure of whether I’m going to find myself in my bed, having dreamt it all. He smiles down at me, his own eyes looking love drunk, his lips red and swollen.
We both pant, our breaths the only sound in the room. What the hell just happened?
Our breathing finally calms down enough for us to be able to speak. Not that I know what the hell to say to him. I don’t think I could form a single word if I tried.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, his forehead wrinkled.
I blink. Did he seriously just say that? Just apologise for giving me the best kiss of my life? Wait...does he regret it?
‘Don’t be,’ I mumble, lifting my fingers up to touch my bruised lips.
He steps back and clears his throat. I see it happen, see his mask go back on. His walls built straight back up. It’s over.
‘That was terribly unprofessional of me. I’m sorry, Ruby.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I wanted it too.’ God, I sound pathetic. What I really want to do is to cling onto his leg and beg him to kiss me again.
He shakes his head. ‘That can’t happen again. I’m sorry.’
He turns and walks out.
Well, that’s that then, I suppose. Only, how the hell can you taste a bit of heaven and then just go about your normal life. I know I can’t.
Chapter 22
Monday 16th December
Ruby
I wake up in the morning still in the dress from the night before. I never could take it off without the assistance of anyone else. I’ll have to ask Jessica to help. I don’t think I even took my make up off. Just threw myself face down on the bed, the most sexually frustrated as I’ve ever been. I’m not ashamed to say I pulled out Vinnie the Vibrator to help me get off to sleep.
I glance at the clock. Eight am. Shit, we’re late. I must have forgotten to set my alarm. I race up the two flights of stairs; nearly giving myself a heart attack, to find the two girls still sleeping peacefully. If I was this rich, I’d invest in a lift.
‘Girls! Wake up. We’re late for school.’ I throw Jessica’s curtains back, not that it brings in much light, the dreary London weather making it seem more like early evening than morning.
Jessica rubs her eyes, stretches and curls back into a ball. Lottie stumbles in with her bunny, jumps up onto Jessica’s bed and snuggles in next to her.
‘Morning, baby,’ I say, with a smile I can’t help but show. They’re so adorable when they’re sleepy. ‘We need to get going if we’re not going to be late.’
Lottie reaches out her injured plastered arm. ‘Cuddle.’
I look down at those big hazel eyes; so similar to Barclays. I can’t refuse her. I crawl into bed with them and snuggle up. Who cares if we’re late? I’ve learnt never to turn these opportunities down. These are the things you remember when they’re all grown up.
Lottie pushes her cheek against mine and the sweet smell of her baby soft skin has me feeling like I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I wrap my arm around Jessica and she slowly opens her dreamy blue eyes, a tired smile greeting me.
‘Morning baby.’
She yawns again. ‘How late are we?’ Her voice is all cute and husky.
‘Well, if we get up now, we can just about make it to the school bell.’
She looks me over and crumples her forehead. She looks so like Barclay in that moment. It hurts my heart to even think of him.
‘Why are you wearing an evening gown?’
I snort a laugh. ‘Long story.’
See, these are my people. Not those snobby people from last night sipping on champagne and taking bollocks. Innocent kids who say exactly what they think. They’re the people whose opinions I value.
They help me out of the dress, and we rush around in order to get out of the door. I had to substitute myself for them to look well turned out. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t normally bother with make-up, preferring just a slick of lip balm and maybe if I’m feeling crazy some mascara. But today my hair is scraped up on top of my head like a demented pineapple and my blotchy ‘night after alcohol’ skin is free for the world to judge. I grabbed some sweatpants and a comfy jumper and completed the outfit with my fake Ugg boots. Yep, a real I don’t care outfit.
To say I look disgusting is an understatement. I haven’t even washed my face, just brushed my teeth and threw on some deodorant. I decided they were the two most important things to do if I was going to see people.
The bell rings just as we run into the school. I say goodbye to Jessica, handing over her book and lunch bag. Next is Lottie at the nursery door. In the short space of time I’ve been with her she’s already showing an improvement in her confidence. Instead of clinging onto me she gives me a quick kiss, hug and then walks in, turning to wave every two seconds with her poor little broken arm. I wave back with a thumbs up until I can’t see her anymore.
‘Well, would you look what the cat dragged in,’ someone says behind me.
I turn, sure they weren’t talking to me, to find Clementine looking at me smugly.
‘Excuse me?’ I ask with a fake smile.
‘I heard you were out with Barclay last night.’ Jesus, news travels fast around here. ‘I didn’t realise nannies offered those services too.’
Oh no she didn’t.
‘Excuse me?’ I bark, hand on my hip. Did she really just insinuate that I’m acting as an escort? A sort of hooker?
She eyes me bitchily, taking in my admittingly shit clothes.
‘Plenty of women around here have been trying to get into Barclay’s pants since Claire died. I really fail to see what is so special about you. Please enlighten me?’
I lean on one hip, ready for this fight she’s intent on having. She’s had it in for me since I joined the PTA. She doesn’t realise I haven’t had my morning coffee yet. It’s like starting a fight with a wild animal.
‘First of all, I’m not getting into Barclay’s pants. Second, I’m not even trying. I accompanied him because his business partner couldn’t make it. As simple as that.’
‘Really?’ she says with a huge shit eating grin. One I’d like to smack off her face. ‘And why on earth should I believe that?’
‘Fine,’ I shrug, attempting to act unbothered. ‘Don’t. But if I hear that you’re spreading rumours about me I’ll—’
‘You’ll what?’ she interrupts stepping into my face, completely invading my space. Wow, this woman’s a bully. She really has no shame. Her kid’s gonna grow up to be such a shit.
I think quickly of something to scare her.
‘I’ll... I’ll go after your husband,’ I say lamely.
Her mouth drops open, hand shooting dramatically to her chest. ‘Excuse
me?’
Well, that’s got her.
‘You heard me.’ I nod, faking confidence. ‘I’ll go after your husband. They all like a bit of rough. Imagine how many people will laugh when they hear how you didn’t satisfy your husband enough, so he had to find comfort in the common nanny.’
She blinks rapidly. ‘He’d never sleep with you,’ she says, clearly not even believing herself.
I lean a bit into her space. ‘But just think who people will believe. You’ll have already told them what a slut I am. It will all make sense.’
She huffs, trying and failing to come back at me with something. Her over pumped lips opening and shutting frantically like a goldfish.
‘You better watch yourself.’ She turns, flicking her long brunette hair in my face and storms off.
I hope to God she doesn’t make my life even harder on the PTA. I have enough to worry about without that cow bag making my life difficult.
Tuesday 17th December
Barclay
I cannot believe I kissed her last night. What the hell was I thinking? That she looked pretty fucking perfect in that dress my subconscious reminds me. Seeing her out of her baggy jumpers and in something that showed off her figure just shocked the living life out of me.
Then that jackass Aubyn talking about her as if she were a piece of meat. I would have knocked him out, had it not been some a prestigious event and his dad a board member. Seeing her feelings hurt like that, seeing her that vulnerable, it just got to me. Her heavy-hearted eyes penetrated my soul.
And I just... I jumped. I took the chance the moment it crossed my mind, not stopping for a second to talk myself out of it.
Only now I’ve put her in an impossible situation. I’ve taken advantage of my position of power and kissed my employee. Jesus, she could sue me for sexual harassment! I wouldn’t even blame her.
Of course, she kissed me back. The poor thing was probably scared to death of her boss taking advantage of her. Scared I’d throw her out that very night.
I apologised but nothing I say will erase that kiss from my mind. Now that I’ve tasted her, felt her pressed up against me, I know that no woman will ever feel as good.
Chapter 23
Ruby
I still can’t believe that bitch Clementine. Who the hell does she think she is? I hope the other mum’s aren’t talking about me. Not that I should care, but no one wants to be labelled the whoreish nanny, do they?
I’m over-reacting at every glance from a mum, sure they’re whispering about me. Juliette has re-assured me that they’re still talking about Fire Gate. Great. Not exactly re-assuring.
Barclay promised me a new TV if I came along last night. Although after the awkward kiss I’m not sure I can bring it up with him. Not that I’ve seen him since. I’d think he was avoiding me if he wasn’t normally always out of the house.
Only, well now that I’ve put the kids to bed my TV has started to have two fuzzy lines running through it. It’s basically unwatchable. Typical. Especially when I’m intent on finishing these parade outfits.
I go to the kitchen to find ice cream. That’ll cheer me up. Marge is still cleaning up after dinner.
‘What’s up, Ruby?’ she asks, sensing my mood.
I can’t tell her the truth. Oh, you know, kissed the boss and all that.
‘Just my TV on the fritz,’ I admit, sounding like a spoilt brat as I search the freezer for ice cream.
‘Why don’t you go and watch in the sitting room?’
I look at her as if she’s insane. ‘In the main house? Are you nuts? What if Barclay finds me in there?’
She shrugs. ‘He always goes straight to his office and then to bed. He’s never in there.’
‘Well, my TV is pretty busted.’ Could I really risk it?
She grins and hands me a spoon for my ice cream. ‘Enjoy.’
Damn bad influence. I run downstairs to get the costumes I’m still working on and walk like a naughty schoolgirl to the sitting room, open the door and peer in. The coast seems clear. Barclay hasn’t even come home yet.
I’ve never actually been in this room before. It’s different to the rest of the house. All black and gold. Overly glamorous and almost bachelor pad like.
I sit down onto the plush enormous crushed velvet sofa. Agh, it feels as comfy as a cloud. I find the remote and click on my favourite show, Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Ooh, surround sound.
An hour later I’m spread out, having consumed most of the ice cream and finished my costumes, when I hear a noise. It’s hard to know if it was just something from the surround sound or an actual outside noise.
The door opens and, as if in slow motion, Barclay walks in, catching me slumming it up on his sofa, my hair still in the demented pineapple from earlier this morning. I try to sink into it, but damn reality won’t let it happen.
He stares right at me, the only light from the huge TV exposing his facial features. I’m expecting angry, but instead he looks like he’s confining a laugh. He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. Damn him to hell; he looks so sexy when he does that.
‘Ruby, what are you doing in here?’ he asks, with a grin.
‘Sorry, Marge said you never come in here.’ I hurry up and collect my ice cream pot, spoon and costumes.
‘Were you... waiting up for me?’
Huh? Oh God, he thinks I’m acting like a lovestruck puppy. Trying to seduce him after last night. Mate, if I wanted to do that, I’d be wearing something sexier than sweats.
‘God, no! I honestly thought you wouldn’t notice. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go.’ I can feel my cheeks burning. All the embarrassment from last night comes rushing to the surface.
I go to walk past him, only he blocks my path.
‘Ruby.’ I look up into his dark brown eyes, a clear mistake. ‘You’re more than welcome to spend time in my sitting room. You’re welcome anytime.’
Why does that feel like more than just an average invitation. I avoid his penetrating stare, scoot past him and run as fast as I can back to the safety of my flat. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but it feels weird and I don’t have time for weird right now.
Ruby
I get a text around 6.30pm from Barclay saying he’s going to be late. It’s the first time he’s ever bothered to tell me. The girls were really hoping to see Daddy tonight, especially as they were bored to tears while I had their friends try on their outfits and pin them accordingly. I know they’re going to be disappointed to not see him.
‘What time will Daddy be home?’ Jessica asks, as if reading my mind.
I’m starting to think she does actually have the gift. My Grandma’s sister did. She predicted the week I’d start my periods. Now don’t tell me that’s a weird thing to predict and get right.
I stroke her hair. ‘I’m afraid he’s going to be late, sweetheart.’
Her little face drops, her eyes growing despondent.
‘Daddy’s always late,’ Lottie says folding her arms in front of her, her bottom lip jutted out.
I have to think of something to take their mind off it. Cheer them up.
‘I know!’ They both look up at my exclamation. ‘Why don’t we toast some marshmallows?’
Jessica scoffs. She can be so like her father. ‘We don’t have a bonfire.’
Good point.
‘No, but we have the fire in the main sitting room. That’ll do.’
Their eyes light up. ‘Let’s do it!’ Jessica shouts punching the air.
We gather the supplies, handily finding everything in the pantry, I swear to God Marge stocks absolutely everything in this house, and head into the main sitting room loaded with snacks.
‘We never come in here,’ Jessica says, sounding unsure, looking round apprehensively. ‘Are you sure we’re allowed?’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Jessica, do you honestly think I would sneak in here if we weren’t allowed? Your daddy only told me last night that I was allowed in here. Plus, this is your house
.’ It’s so strange how they feel like they’re not welcome in their own sitting room.
‘Okay,’ she says, clearly not believing me.
I turn the fire on with the click of a button and stick the marshmallows on the long stick prongs I found in the kitchen. I hand them over to the girls.
‘Now you have to be really careful girls,’ I stress. ‘I’m trusting you to only hold the marshmallows above the fire. If you go too low, you’ll set the stick on fire.’
I think of Fire Gate. I’ll be called a fire maniac if this goes wrong. I could be committed.
I keep a close eye on Lottie. With her cast it makes it trickier for her, but she still manages. From what I’ve learnt over the years, children love when you give them a bit of responsibility, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still keep a close eye on them.
They get on great, toasting the marshmallows and then, after them cooling down picking off the goo with their fingers and eating it.
It goes so well we start again with some more. I look down at their chubby little fingers holding onto the sticks so carefully. God they’re adorable. I’m going to miss them so much.
‘What the HELL is going on here?’ someone bellows from behind me.
I jump, my heart escaping into my throat. I turn around to see Barclay staring open mouthed in complete disbelief at us. Like he just walked into us shooting up heroin.
The girls startle and tense behind me. I hate that he can install fear in them so young, especially with everything they’ve been through.
‘Let’s take this outside,’ I insist, quickly grabbing his elbow and dragging him to the door. I turn back to the girls. ‘Put down the sticks and sit safely on the sofa.’ I watch them do it.
I drag him out to the hallway. ‘You really need to calm down in front of the girls. Can’t you see they’re scared of you?’
He scrunches his face up in distaste. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Once Upon a Wish-Mas Page 13
