The Player (Rouge Passion #1)

by J. D. Chase

  He ignored her and got into the car, folding up his long legs.

  She slid into the passenger seat. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’

  ‘I sold the Holden,’ he said simply. ‘Sorry if this isn’t up to your standard.’

  Is he being sarcastic? There was no need to reply in such a caustic tone. She folded her arms as well as her breasts would allow and resolved to spend the journey in silence if that’s how he was going to be.

  After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence he said quietly, ‘I needed to get hold of some cash quickly and without leaving an obvious paper trail so I sold it. I didn’t mean to snap but I’m a little touchy about it. The trouble I had importing that car from Australia . . . and now it’s gone.’

  Isla didn’t know what to say. Eventually she said brightly, ‘Well, as long as it gets you from A to B – it beats public transport any day.’

  He didn’t reply but his expression was grim and silence descended again. After ten minutes or so Isla couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Do you mind if I put the radio on?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘Feel free.’

  She pressed the button and then wrinkled her nose up and began to press the pre-set channel buttons. An unfamiliar rock track came on and Xander said, ‘Leave it. This should be your theme tune because it’s what you do to me.’ He even managed a little smile.

  She sat back and listened. She realised it was Chad Kroeger’s voice that she could hear so she assumed it was Nickelback. She listened carefully to the lyrics and figured out it was called Follow You Home. The obsessive nature of the lyrics insinuated that he would never give her up, no matter what she did.

  Surely Xander didn’t mean that? He was only joking when he mentioned us getting addicted to one another . . . wasn’t he? Her thoughts were interrupted when she realised they were almost at the hotel. ‘Xander, drop me here please so I can walk in separately. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep showing up together in a morning.’

  He pulled up to the kerb. ‘Good thinking. I was going to have a word with you about that. When you bring me my coffee, we’ll have a chat.’ He was smirking now.

  ‘Fuck off! It’s your turn to make me coffee.’

  ‘That’s no way to speak to your boss, young lady. When you bring me my coffee, drop your trousers and lay yourself across my knees . . .’

  She climbed out of the car and just as she was closing the door, she called, ‘White, one sugar, no spanking. Thank you!’ Then she walked away but she heard him chuckling as he passed her.

  But sure enough, she’d just sat down – gently – on her chair and he appeared with cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits that he’d procured from somewhere.

  ‘Are you trying to fatten me up?’ she joked.

  ‘Those curves need careful maintenance.’ He gave a lewd wink as he disappeared into his office with her coffee. ‘Come on in, Red. Let’s have that chat.’

  She followed him in and sat down on the sofa. He’d placed her coffee on the side table along with the biscuits.

  ‘Right. About what you said in relation to arriving at the office together, I think we need to be more careful about what we’re doing,’ he stated.

  She tilted her head to one side and took the opportunity he’d unwittingly presented. ‘What are we doing, exactly?’ she asked.

  He frowned. ‘Well Red, I’m no genius but since we’ve spent half our time fucking in the last couple of days, I think that might be what I was referring to.’

  ‘Very funny. I just thought that we should clarify the rules.’

  ‘Good. That’s what I meant. Arriving together occasionally can be explained easily enough but too often and people are going to gossip.’

  She snickered. ‘They already are. That’s what they do here. Before you turned up, they’d come to the outlandish conclusion that I’d won the lottery and bought the hotel.’

  She laughed at his expression of disbelief. ‘Straight up. They gossip about anything and everything, whether there’s a grain of truth in it or not.’

  He looked irritated. ‘Even more reason to be careful. I’m going to making big changes around here and the last thing we want is for them to think it’s them against us if the shit hits the fan.’

  Big changes? ‘But we’re management, it will be them and us anyway, regardless of whether we’re fucking each other’s brains out or not.’ What big changes?

  He picked up his coffee and took a sip. ‘True but we don’t want to give them any ammunition. It might be tough enough going as they get used to the changes anyway.’

  She couldn’t hold out any longer. ‘So . . . what are these big changes?’

  Xander looked very pleased with himself. ‘We aim for a very different clientele and explore the best method of promoting it discreetly.

  ‘Discreet promotion? Doesn’t that defeat the object? And what exactly will we be promoting?’ She took a big sip of her coffee.

  ‘Sex. A hotel for people who love having sex.’

  Isla choked on her coffee, sending it spraying everywhere as she coughed.

  ‘What?’ she croaked as she tried to rub off the droplets of coffee from her clothes.

  ‘Sex!’ he repeated, looking bemused.

  ‘I thought that’s what you’d said. Explain please, because I’ve got all sorts of seedy images in my mind. You can’t have a knocking shop in the middle of Kensington!’

  He looked affronted. ‘Not a brothel! A classy boudoir hotel for lovers.’

  She chewed on her lip as she tried to get her head around his idea.

  ‘But aren’t all hotels suitable for lovers? I mean, if there’s a bed . . .’

  He shook his head. ‘I want to create an upmarket bespoke hotel that oozes passion . . . in a tasteful way of course. The destination in the whole of London for a sexy getaway or secret assignation.’

  ‘Whoa . . . secret assignation? You mean we promote the hotel as the place to go for people who are having affairs? I thought you wanted it to be classy. I can see some mileage in considering your idea of a boudoir hotel, perfect for a couple’s sexy retreat without the kids in tow or to rekindle the passion in a relationship, but I refuse to have anything to do with promoting cheating.’

  He stared at her, taken aback by her outburst. ‘How would we be promoting cheating exactly?’

  Her eyebrows shot up. ‘You just said you wanted the hotel to be “The destination for a secret assignation” so if you’re promoting that then you’re promoting cheating. I abhor cheating, it destroys lives . . . and I’m certainly not going to do anything to condone or promote it.’

  Frowning, Xander replied, ‘But you work in a hotel. How do you know whether a couple checking in are in an exclusive relationship or whether they’re both committed to other people? We don’t vet residents, Red. Cheating is synonymous with hotels. Hmm, or is that why our occupancy rate is so low? Do you refuse to take bookings if you suspect they’re cheats?’

  Isla’s palm itched. She so wanted to slap that cocky, sarcastic smirk off his face. ‘Don’t be facetious, Xander! Believe me, I know that cheating goes on in hotels – in clubs and pubs too – and even in fucking car parks!’ She realised that her voice had risen to a shrill shriek so she stopped before she gave away anything from her private life.

  ‘Cheating happens, Red. It happens to everybody at some time or another. It’s a fact of life that if you’re in a relationship, there’s a good chance either you or your partner is going to end up cheating. And if they’re going to do it, there’s fuck all you can do to stop them. And if you’re really lucky, you never find out you’ve been cheated on.’ His expression and his tone was harsh.

  How can he be so clinical about it? So matter of fact? Oh yeah, cheating happens all the time, you’ll be cheated on and there’s nothing you can do about it . . . what kind of an attitude is that? Obviously the attitude of someone who’s never been cheated on by someone he loves and trusts . . .

  ‘So cheating is a fac
t of life. I know that – I’m not naïve, Xander. But your attitude of “it happens, get over it” stinks. Life’s a bitch and awful things happen that we can’t do anything about, like cancer and natural disasters, to name the obvious, but cheating is a choice . . . a choice made by the selfish and thoughtlessly cruel. So yeah, it happens but it shouldn’t and getting over it isn’t so easy.’

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at Xander because if he looked bemused or belittling, she wouldn’t be able to resist giving him that slap.

  When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle. ‘What did he do to you, Red? What did some thoughtless bastard do to you?’

  Oh no! Don’t be nice. Be arrogant and uncaring but please don’t feel sorry for me. She gritted her teeth and blinked back tears that were threatening to fall, reminding herself what a tough cookie she was.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she managed, her voice sounding husky.

  His arm slid around her shoulders, making her entire body go rigid. No! No! Noo! She couldn’t face telling anyone at work what had happened, least of all Xander. She’d tried hard to shed not only the agonising hurt and anger but the crushing blow to her self-esteem and self-worth.

  ‘I’m not a sensitive type, Red. God knows, I’m far from it, but I can see that it does matter and it might help to talk about it. I get that I’m probably the last person you want to confide in and you’re so stubborn and self-contained that you feel you should be able to cope with anything alone. But I’m telling you that you don’t have to and that maybe your way isn’t working too well. I don’t ever want to see you hurting and I truly want to help if I can. And, for another thing, I really don’t want to go sticking my size twelve feet into something that could cause you further pain over the next few weeks as I go about making changes here. I’m not a complete bastard, Red, so please just let me in.’

  She was torn. Part of her wanted to offload everything, knowing that what he said made sense and that it might help to make him rethink his ridiculous plans for the hotel. But another part of her didn’t want to rake it all up and she certainly didn’t want his sympathy. She closed her eyes and began to repair the cracks in her resolve, rebuilding the wall around her.

  ‘I’m good. Really,’ she said with forced sincerity.

  He gave her a look of mock offence. ‘I gave you that whole spiel, right from the heart, and you cut me down? And I was being sensitive . . . okay it was just a trial because that shit’s alien to me, but you can’t let me fail on my very first attempt, Red. You’ll hurt my feelings and I’ll never bother trying again. It just wouldn’t be worth the risk.’ He was smiling now and gave her a friendly nudge with his elbow.

  ‘Come on, Red, don’t kick a man when he’s down. Take pity on me.’ He began to flutter his eyelashes and Isla couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He looked so ridiculous and so unlike his usual, intense self.

  She sighed, knowing that he probably wasn’t going to give up. ‘I’ll do you a deal. I’ll give you a brief synopsis of what happened but then I’m free to ask you something. And I reserve the right to refuse to answer probing questions and to end the conversation at any time. Deal?’

  He shook his head good-naturedly. ‘Stubborn till the end, eh Red? But since you’ve offered a compromise, I accept. You have a deal.’

  She blew out a long breath. ‘Is it wine o’clock yet?’

  Xander laughed. ‘Where you’re concerned, it’s never wine o’clock! Oh Red, you never know, you might feel better after offloading, and you should know by now that I’m not a judgemental person by nature, nor will I blow sunshine up your arse just to make you feel good. I’ll just listen.’

  She nodded although she really didn’t think she would feel any better at the end of it. She just hoped she wouldn’t feel any worse.

  ‘Basically, I was in a long-term relationship with a guy I met at uni. We’d been together for five years, moved in together six months after leaving uni, bought a flat a year later, and we were the couple that our friends openly envied. One evening, around six months ago, when he popped out to get some milk, I heard his laptop beep as I walked past the table. We’d never been secretive about laptops, phones or our post because we’d never had anything to hide so we never went snooping – we had no need to. I looked down and saw he had a message from msbigtits. I thought it was a joke or spam so I opened it. I don’t know why and I know I shouldn’t have. I was just intrigued I guess.’

  Isla screwed her eyes shut at the memory and the flood of emotion that threatened to wash over her.

  Xander put his arms around her. ‘I think I can see where this is going . . . I’m so sorry, Red. Finding out like that is the worst. You don’t have to continue if it’s too much.’

  She pressed her cheek against his chest and fought back tears. I’ve shed too many tears over you, Jamie, you worthless piece of crap. I won’t be a victim!

  Sniffing, and resolving to stay strong, she pulled away from him and shook her head. ‘It’s okay. I’m good. Basically, she was telling him how much she’d enjoyed their fucking session that afternoon. I thought it must be a mistake, that she’d sent the message to the wrong recipient. I didn’t even entertain the idea that Jamie was cheating on me. She’d addressed him by some ridiculous pet name so it was plausible . . . until I scrolled up and saw that there were other messages from her. Then I found some from him but I didn’t have chance to read them because I heard his key in the lock so I shut it down.’

  Xander was rubbing her upper arm as she spoke. ‘Oh fuck, Red. Am I correct in assuming that you went ballistic the moment he crossed the threshold?’

  ‘No. I felt shell-shocked. I just couldn’t believe that Jamie would cheat on me. For the next two hours, before we went to bed, I just tried to function normally but I’d begun to feel numb. Jamie commented that I was quiet but I told him I was just really tired. We got into bed and thankfully, because I’d said how tired I was, he left me alone when I curled up in a ball, facing away from him. I’d had a little panic that he would try to initiate sex but he—’

  ‘He’d been fucking all afternoon! He was probably worn out,’ Xander blurted, before seeming to realise how insensitive that was. ‘Sorry, Red. That came out all wrong.’

  She smiled a sad smile and shook her head. ‘No, I hadn’t thought of that but you’re right. I just couldn’t bear him to touch me . . . it didn’t matter whether he’d been with her that day or a month before. He’d been unfaithful and that’s all that mattered.’

  He nodded. ‘So did you eventually confront him?’

  ‘After he’d gone to sleep, I crept out of bed and sneaked back on his laptop. I hated myself for doing it but I had to know more. For some strange reason, I wanted to know who she was. Whether I knew her or not. What she looked like . . . basically, anything I could find out.’

  ‘And was it? Anyone you knew, I mean.’

  ‘No. All of the messages on his laptop were from her username, msbigtits, so I guess I knew she wasn’t flat-chested.’

  Her feeble attempt at a joke made Xander look like he wanted to do anything to erase her pain.

  She continued, ‘Those messages told me that they’d been at it for months. I began to study the dates and times of their “secret assignations” and realised that he’d been lying to me about going to football games and race nights with his friends, the lunchtime business meetings that he’d said he hated . . . I’d been so gullible because I totally hadn’t thought him capable of cheating. I thought we were happy.’

  ‘I think everyone’s capable of cheating in the right situation, Red.’

  ‘No!’ she exclaimed, vehemently. ‘I’m not!’

  He held his hands up in defence. ‘Okay, okay. Most people then. So what happened then?’

  She looked sheepish. ‘I looked on his phone. If he hadn’t just sent her a text, right before he’d got into bed with me, I wouldn’t have spotted anything.’ Xander looked confused. ‘He’d saved her number in his phone as Mike Hatton, one of hi
s old school friends going way back. I thought it was odd that he was texting Mike goodnight – that was the only word you could see on the preview – so I opened it and, well let’s just say, unless he was having sex with Mike too, I’d rumbled his ruse. I spent ages reading the texts and searching his phone for any more information but there was nothing. Just a load of dirty talk . . . he’d never used such explicit language like that with me and, going right back into the oldest messages, I could see that she’d started it and actively encouraged him to talk to her like that. I guess with a messenger name like that, she was no prude.’

  ‘So then what did you do? Chop his balls off as he slept?’

  She smiled. ‘I was tempted, believe me. I was also tempted to text her and tell her that she could have him. But I could tell that she was in a relationship with some poor sap too and, knowing my luck, he’d be the one to find the text and I had no desire to bring a whole shitfest of hurt on someone else. So I did nothing. I got into bed, resisted the urge to put my pillow over his snoring mouth and sit on it, and tried to sleep.’ She grinned at Xander’s chuckle.

  ‘Then in the morning – oh, we were both stockbrokers and worked in the same office, did I say? – we got ready for work and went to the office together. At lunchtime, I wandered over to him and asked to use his phone to text someone, saying that I’d forgotten to charge mine. You should’ve seen his face! Priceless. He snapped at me saying that he was expecting a call so I’d have to wait and that he’d bring it over to me. When he did, about ten minutes later, the message history between him and Mike had been wiped. My blood curdled when I realised he’d probably just sent her a message asking her not to text for the next half an hour or so. I made a note of her phone number, just in case I needed it – I didn’t, then gave it back to him. Ten minutes before the end of the day, he came over and said he’d been invited to a football game so wouldn’t be home until late as they’d probably have a few beers afterwards.’