by Allie Parker
As Meg watched her pink and black panties fall to the floor she stepped out of them, flicking them away with a booted foot. She stood in the middle of her kitchen in her bra, skirt and boots, shivering with heat and pleasure. She moved up onto the tips of her toes and wrapped one leg around Byron’s waist, not wanting there to be air between them. Already aching for his warmth and touch again.
He lifted her onto the table and kicked off his shoes. After retrieving a condom from his back pocket, Meg raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged, Meg pulled down the top of his pants until they pooled at his feet, he pushed them aside as well and looped his fingers through Meg’s bra straps. As Meg enclosed her hand firmly around Byron, he slowly slid the straps down her silky shoulders and watched as her breasts were revealed.
Meg moved her hand so slowly Byron could hardly stand it. She was touching him and, by the smile on her face, loving every second. In one quick movement Byron hoisted himself up onto the table and pulled Meg up further, so that her legs weren’t dangling off the side as he straddled her, laying on the table. She lifted her arms and laid them over her head. Ready and trusting Byron completely. Byron bent and kissed the top of Meg’s breast and slid her bra out of the way so he could take her nipple in his mouth. His hands blindly found the hem of her skirt and pushed it up to her waist. Sliding his knee between Meg’s, he lifted his head and bought his face level with hers.
Meg could feel the delicious tension building. Byron kissed her so gently she was aware of every part of him that was touching her. Once he was satisfied she was ready to go again, he slowly entered her, his lips remained as gentle as the rest of him. After the initial shock to her body, Meg turned her head and took a deep breath, picturing what they looked like laying there on her kitchen table all but naked, and hot as hell. She found his mouth again and dug her fingers into the muscle on Byron’s shoulders. Willing him to go harder and faster. He now trapped her body under his, in full control. She found the pressure of his body intoxicating.
He slowly increased the pace, creeping towards breaking point inch by inch, hoping that the table would hold them. As she held on to him tightly, he knew he had her right where he wanted her.
Meg opened her eyes and looked into Byron’s face, knowing the moment was near, and hoping he was close too. Byron’s lips curved into the cheekiest, sexiest smile Meg had ever seen. She closed her eyes again, threw her head back and rode the first wave of ecstasy. Byron matched Meg’s rhythm perfectly and his whole body tensed with pleasure. After the shockwaves faded, Byron rested his head next to Meg’s, careful not to relax fully and squash her. Their heavy breathing the only sound in the house.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was Sunday and Flynn couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept passed 6:30am. He looked at the clock and thought, why the heck not? The next time he rolled over it was 8:45. He slipped his legs out of bed, stretched and cracked his back. He boiled the kettle, made a cup of coffee and watched the birds on the railing outside the window as he ate his breakfast. After a long shower with no shave, Flynn dressed, refilled his coffee mug, grabbed his clipboard and set off up to the penthouse.
He conducted a spot check of the entire floor, ticking his checklist as he went. Holding a torch up along the walls to check the paint job. Flushing and running the toilets, showers and faucets. Checking the grout and seals in the wet-areas. Inspecting fittings, fixtures, furniture and floor coverings for quality of installation. And turning on all lights, power, switches and dials. Once he had finished opening and closing all of the cabinets and draws in the penthouse, he nodded with satisfaction and moved on to the floor below.
Halfway through the audit of that floor, he stopped in front of one of Avery’s murals. In contrast with the currently deserted hallway, Avery’s painting was almost like stumbling across a large hole in the wall, a glimpse into a wonderland. He pictured children sitting in front of it on pillows, imagining fairies and goblins, princes and princesses, magic and mystery. Avery had done such a great job, the detail was phenomenal. He felt like it was about to come to life if he stared at it for much longer. The trees swaying in the breeze, the creek gently weaving its way through the forest, and small animals tucked in behind flowering bushes. He smiled, shook his head and looked down at his clipboard. He found the item titled Mural #3 Complete and placed a large tick next to it. He moved on and by the time he had finished the remaining floors he’d worked up an appetite.
He made a sandwich with the leftovers from the picnic he’d had with Avery the day before. Remembering her surprise when she’d come out of the elevator doors and saw the table set with a delicious assortment of tasty food.
‘Flynn,’ she had exclaimed. ‘This looks so delicious. All I bought was a triple choc brownie from home.’ Her eyes took in the setting as she handed him the package.
‘Perfect, I didn’t think of desert.’ Flynn pulled out a chair for Avery and poured sparkling apple juice into tall glasses. They talked about the progress of the building and the murals. Avery laughed when Flynn told her about the latest mishap with the security system locking him in a storeroom. And Flynn was surprised to learn the amount of paint and planning it took to do one full-wall mural, fascinated by the layering and detail involved. They ate until they were almost full and then divided the brownie in half and moved to the balcony to have their coffee and cake in the sunshine.
Now, as he sat at the bench and made a note of all unfinished items to chase up the following day, Flynn remembered the calm he felt as they just sat watching the world go by. The sun on their faces, the slight breeze fluttering Avery’s hair around her face.
Flynn took a deep breath, exhaled loudly and forced himself to go back to his notes. He had to concentrate; he couldn’t let a woman distract him from finishing the job on time and on budget. He was pleased with the overall progress of the building, and checked the countdown until final hand-over.
Flynn tried not to think of where he would go and what he would do after they received the occupancy certificate. Probably just another motel for a few months until something came up. Although it was looming on the horizon, he had never been one to plan the next move until the current one was fully complete.
Pushing thoughts of Avery, the building, and his living situation aside, Flynn booted up his laptop and checked his email. He clicked on an email from Byron, detailing the colour pallet to match the new logo James had signed off on. Flynn cut and pasted the proposed areas for feature walls and the corresponding colours then sent them to the painter for last minute additions. He knew that Byron would have already sought Avery’s advice on the detail and trusted their judgment fully.
The next email was from James Madden, thanking Flynn for his latest progress report and requesting a site inspection for the new occupants. Madden detailed a number of doctors, nurses and admin staff which would be associated with the facility, who were due to arrive the following Wednesday. Flynn made a note of the visitor passes and info packs Byron had done up to have ready for Madden. He also noted a reminder to ask all trades and contractors to be offsite during the time specified, leaving a clean and professional space for the tour.
Maybe that would be a good time to call a trade meeting, Flynn thought. He sure would miss this project once it wrapped up. It had been a long but rewarding eighteen months. He enjoyed working with James Madden, he was a good boss and they were on the same page about most aspects of the build. He also enjoyed walking past Avery’s paintings, especially if she happened to be there working on them. He would definitely miss that.
*
Following Avery and Simon’s heart to heart at the vineyard, Simon messaged Belle under the pretence of asking if the new websites were driving more business through the door and ultimately increasing sales of her skincare range. He offered to do some analysis, free of charge of course, and provide a report on the metadata and Google Analytics. He wanted to see her, as always, but he also wanted to see if there was any truth in what Avery had
said the evening at the vineyard. Did he have room in his life and in his heart for anyone else? Bella took up so much space he didn’t think so. He appreciated Avery’s point of view, but it was different when that someone special in your life passes away. There was no choice but to move forward without them. Bella was very much alive and vibrant as ever. Could he possibly move in a direction that wasn’t pointed Bella’s way?
When Bella replied, confirming that she would love to catch up, that she needed a distraction from the monotony of the shop, Simon set about collating the website data he had already analysed into graphs and charts ready to meet with Belle the minute she called him. A couple of hours later when Simon got the call, he stopped working on the website for the James Madden job, even though he was on a roll and still had a lot to do. Without a backwards glance, he grabbed Bella’s report and his car keys and made his way to the small, out of the way cafe on the other side of town.
‘You’ve done it again, Si.’ Bella gushed as they sat at a small round table. ‘This data shows so much more activity than last time. And the spike in sales speak for themselves. Everyone who comes into the shop is mentioning the web-coupon and social media links; that was such a great idea.’
Simon radiated his appreciation of her kind words. ‘Glad I could be of assistance.’
Bella leant over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. ‘You’re one of a kind, Simon, do you know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘All part of the service.’ He smiled, but the sincerity in her voice and eyes touched Simon, making his chest give a little squeeze.
‘I don’t just mean the website stuff. I mean like last week when I called you after my bad day, you kept me company for ages and suggested that fabulous massage place. I’ve been going almost every day since.’ Bella relaxed her shoulders just at the thought. ‘You’re always there for me when I need you.’
Nope, Simon thought, how could he possibly think of changing the direction of his life and leaving Belle when she obviously needed him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When Simon was on his way back to the studio to catch up on his work, Grace called and asked to meet him and Byron alone. He picked Grace up from her office and they went back to the studio. ‘We have a problem,’ Grace said, her voice and face uncharacteristically serious.
‘Spill.’ Simon settled at his computer desk but faced the other two.
‘I’ve received a threatening email about us working with James Madden. Telling us to stop working on the job or to pay the price.’
‘What? From who,’ Byron asked shocked.
‘He or she didn’t identify themselves. It says that we have crossed a line and we’re going to have to make up for damages that have been done.’ Grace took a piece of paper out of her handbag and laid it on the coffee table for her brothers to read. ‘Do either of you recognise the email address?’
Simon leaned forward and checked the address. ‘No, the account was probably set up especially for this email’.
Byron also shook his head. ‘What do you think it’s all about?’
‘I’d say the design firm that was originally hired to complete the creative for James have fallen on hard times and are looking for compensation.’
‘But we didn’t steal the job from them, Madden changed his mind.’ Byron ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
‘Doesn’t matter, they had the job in the bag, they would have started working on it, probably dropped all other business and cleared their schedules to work on it exclusively and then it got pulled from under them.’
‘But surely that’s James’ beef, not ours?’ Simon was searching the internet for any clues as to who would have had the job before them.
‘Maybe James has received an email as well,’ Byron said, hoping like hell that Meg hadn’t.
‘He has received something,’ Grace said. ‘I contacted a friend of mine who works in Madden Enterprises; she told me that James was warned not to partner with us. But he dismissed it, given the amateurish nature of the unsigned email. A few weeks ago I enquired as to how the arrangement with the previous design company ended, before James approached us, because I was expecting some bad press. James mentioned he hired a large firm, who outsourced the job to a contractor. He wasn’t happy with the direction they were taking and he found a loophole in the contract. He ended up paying them out and apparently that was the end of it.’
‘Obviously not.’ Byron worried that this was just the beginning. ‘What’s next?’
‘Let’s just see if they’re bluffing or if they get in contact again. My friend at Madden Enterprises will get in touch if she sees anything else that can link together who’s behind this.’
After a long pause, Simon said, ‘I don’t think we should tell anyone else about this yet, until we know more.’
Byron knew he meant Meg and Avery. He agreed that, until they knew more and had a plan of action, they should keep this to themselves. No point in worrying them unnecessarily, especially after Meg was on such a high from her new found motivation. However, the situation made him decide it was time to get a little more information on one Patrick Heathcliff.
Meanwhile, Meg’s photo shoot was going according to plan. The mother-daughter duo she was shooting was very cooperative, the lighting in the park was perfect, and the weather was holding out. She checked the shot-list and mentally ticked off another two items. She was feeling a familiar buzz of excitement and couldn’t wait to view and edit her shots.
Choosing a select few to show Byron, along with the others she’d taken in recent days, and then they would present the images to James in brochures, website layouts and a portfolio of those to be framed and hung in the building itself. Meg felt the whole concept still somewhat overwhelming but exciting at the same time, making it easier to concentrate and get the job done.
She hadn’t even lost her cool when the insurance agency had called to tell her they had finished the first phase of her claim but they wanted to speak to her again about the bank statements they had received from the police from two years ago. Meg reminded herself that she had nothing to hide and that the insurance agents were not as scary as the police. Although the police were sticking with the theory of innocent until proven guilty and the insurance investigators seemed to prefer guilty unless unfortunately innocent. She could answer their questions; she’d had plenty of practice.
What she hadn’t been expecting was Byron’s questioning around her former partner. They were having lunch at Meg’s house and Byron asked how long she’d lived there.
Meg did a quick calculation. ‘Around seven years.’
‘Have you always lived alone? I imagine it would be hard to work at home if you had a roommate around.’
Meg noticed that Byron wasn’t meeting her eyes as he spoke. ‘I had a roommate for a couple of years, but when you work in the same industry, you have an understanding about your work.’
‘A couple of years? More than just a roommate then?’
‘Byron, are you asking me about my past relationships or the business partner you know I had up until almost a year ago?’
Byron looked Meg in the eye, uncomfortable but needing to go on. ‘Both. I think it’s time we talked about Patrick Heathcliff.’ Byron noticed Meg’s eyes narrow for a moment as he said his name. Grace had found out more about the situation but Byron wanted to give Meg a chance to tell him herself first.
‘Ok, what do you want to know?’ Meg was gauging how much Byron knew and stalling for time to think of what answers to give him.
‘When we first met you were putting together a proposal for a job we were doing, you mentioned you worked with another photographer. Was that Patrick?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was he your roommate and your business partner?’
‘Yes, for about two years.’
‘But you don’t work together anymore? And you obviously don’t live with him anymore.’
Byron sounded like he was enjoyi
ng the conversation about as much as Meg, so she didn’t let her defences get the better of her. ‘Patrick left one night almost a year ago and I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. Personally or professionally. One day we’re discussing where to go on holiday, and the next I wake up alone with no sign of him in my life at all. He cleared out his clothes, his work gear and our bank accounts as if he was never even here. Like he was a figment of my imagination all along.’ Meg was staring into the middle distance.
Byron listened quietly, wanting to put his arms around Meg but not wanting to break her train of thought.
‘I realised that in the two years he had been in my life, he didn’t leave much of a mark in my home. He didn’t move in any furniture or artwork with him, just a few books and photos, which he took with him the night he left. He worked out of a laptop that he had with him at all times. The place basically looked the same after he left.’ Meg looked around the room where they were sitting.
‘Did he leave a note or anything? How did you know he was gone for good,’ Byron asked softly, rubbing Meg’s knee in comfort as she looked sadly at her hands.
‘There was no note. No explanation. Just the police asking where he was and the bank asking for payments that I couldn’t make.’
‘Meg, I can’t even contemplate how that must have made you feel.’ Byron gently bought Meg’s chin up with his hand so she would look at him. ‘You didn’t deserve that. Any of it,’ he said firmly, not knowing where the money laundering fit in but believing Meg was innocent with all his being.
