“I see,” I say, nodding. “Sorry, I interrupted you.”
“Not at all, sweetheart. I like the fact that you want to know more about me.” Xander squeezes my hand again. I blush under his warm gaze. “It was a very difficult decision for my grandparents to leave their tropical island, but work was so scarce, they couldn’t see any other way out. Back then, tourism wasn’t the hot commodity it is today. My grandfather, Owen, was a car fanatic. In his view, being a mechanic was a sure way to allow him to play around with some of the luxury automobiles he felt he’d never be able to own. Soon after arriving, he applied at Ford of Britain and was accepted. He worked there his entire life until he retired. After three months at home doing nothing, he begged the company to take him back even if it meant working without wages. Luckily, his former boss was more than willing to have him back given his skills, passion and dedication. He worked an extra five years before retiring for good. My dad, Kenneth, never had aspirations for higher education so he followed in my grandfather’s footsteps and became a skilled mechanic.”
“That’s fascinating that he’d walk in his father’s footsteps,” I marvel. “I guess it wasn’t that uncommon back then.”
“No, it wasn’t. That said, it was never a consideration for me that I’d become a mechanic. Not to mention that 4Ever changed the course of my life,” he smiles.
“No kidding. I laugh. “Sorry, there I go veering the conversation again. Where is your mom from?”
“Mum is from Leeds in West Yorkshire. She moved to London at eighteen to study to become a stenographer. She comes from a big family and she thought a job in the judicial system as a court reporter would mean guaranteed work and extra money she could send back home. Back in those days, it was one of the best-paid professions for a woman. She enrolled at a private school and started studying, but she never finished her degree. She couldn’t deal with the reality of having to listen and transcribe some of the most gruesome and horrific crimes imaginable.”
“God, I can understand. I’d never be able to do that job and still be able to sleep at night. The things they must hear…” I shake my head, freaked out by the perspective.
“I’m a guy and I love my action movies, but it’s make-believe. I wouldn’t want to hear the play-by-play of a real murder. I agree with you, Delilah, it would haunt me forever,” Ethan says.
“That’s exactly how Mum felt. On top of that, the cost of the studies was quite high and her low wage as a part-time waitress wasn’t cutting it. Once she quit school, she had more time on her hands and since she desperately needed money, she applied at a budget hotel near Victoria Tube station. She was hired on the spot. In fact, she was one of the first employees at the Plum Court Hotel. To this day, Mum is still very proud of that fact.”
“Does she still work there?” I ask.
Xander shakes his head. “After greeting guests for over two decades at the Plum, as she calls it, Mum now works at the prestigious Corinthia Hotel. Not only did she get a huge salary increase when she changed jobs, but she also went up in rank. She left the Plum as a lowly concierge to become the supervisor of concierge services at her new place of work. She’s been there for the past seven years.”
“Wow. Being a concierge can’t be an easy job. Travelers can be really cranky,” I observe.
“You’re right. I know I’ve been less than courteous once or twice when my patience is tested. Mum doesn’t let irritable travelers get to her. In fact, she has this way of turning even the sourest ones into the happiest customers. Other than the time she took off for maternity leave, Mum shows up for work without fail with a huge smile on her face. She calls in sick only when she really can’t get out of bed or when she has a cold.”
“She must really love what she does.”
Xander laughs. “She does. It’s incredible how much she invests herself in that job. The same goes for Dad. He’s too passionate about cars to ever retire. With all the money I made when we were pop stars, I offered to buy them a new house, but they refused and they wouldn’t hear about quitting their jobs when I hinted. The way they reacted made me feel like I had said something to insult them. It’s just the way they’re wired. Their job is more than just an occupation. It defines them in many ways.”
Ethan nods. “It’s the same for my parents,” Ethan agrees. “Mum is a clerk at a forensic accounting firm. She’s been there forever. She’s always been really gifted with number-crunching, but she never had the courage or confidence to pursue things further—even with the encouragement of my dad and many of her former bosses. She relishes complicated problems and she gets a thrill from finding the solution that cracks the code. I also offered to buy my parents a brand-new house. They turned me down. The only reason why they didn’t fight me on the house in Cape Town is because they love the idea of having a place to retire under the sun. That and the fact that I told them about it only after the house was built and fully furnished.” Ethan laughs. “I also think the reason my parents refused the new London house is because they’d be lost if they were to wake up one day and didn’t have Xander’s parents as neighbors.”
“That’s partially true. Don’t forget that even with the promise of buying them neighboring houses, our parents are dead set on remaining in those tiny split-level houses they bought years ago.” Xander chuckles. “It’s a pride thing.”
“Why do you say that, Xander?” I ask, intrigued.
“Our parents saved for a very long time before being able to afford the deposit for the house—I suspect it’s the same for your parents.” I nod. “And here we show up ready to buy them a new luxury house in an upper-crust neighborhood. To top it off, we told them we intended on paying for the houses cash to lighten their monthly financial burdens. They wouldn’t hear of it. It was simply inconceivable to them to allow us to treat them to such opulence,” Xander says.
“He’s right,” Ethan agrees. “I had to nearly arm-wrestle Dad to buy him new kitchen appliances and pay for the renovations to the aging house. His philosophy is that only weak men mooch off of their kids. Not him. ‘An Afrikaner would sooner lose his balls than stoop that low.’” Ethan says the last part with an accent. What was that all about?
Xander explodes in laughter. “Mate, you kill me when you do that. The worst part is that you mimic your father so well.”
“I’ve had to listen to my fair share of lectures from him. He has this voice he adopts that’s so solemn when he needs to bring the whole ‘holier-than-thou Afrikaner man’ concept to the table.” It’s now Ethan’s turn to laugh.
“At least our dads accept the new cars we buy them when the old ones die,” Xander says.
“Yeah, only because we agreed we’d never get them a luxury vehicle and it would always be a used car.” Ethan chuckles.
“Seriously?” I ask, surprised.
“Yup. Back to that pride thing,” Xander says. “Our parents never wanted our success to change who they were and they didn’t want us to think they needed all of the material stuff for them to be proud of us.”
“They imposed some conditions the second big money started rolling in. I was annoyed at first by so many restrictions on what we could and couldn’t buy them, but along the years, I’ve come to appreciate them so much for never wanting to take advantage of us like so many celebrities’ parents.”
“I agree with Ethan. Our parents have unbendable morals when it comes to that sort of thing. I think that’s what influenced us in being a lot more careful with our money, ditching the McMansions in favor of these houses that are still luxury homes by London’s standards, but not stupidly over the top.” Xander opens his arms wide to make his point. “Our parents are also responsible for us giving our entourage their marching papers and selling the NASCAR über-expensive rides we used to own.”
“I remember my father laughing at me when I rolled in his driveway in my brand-new Lamborghini, which cost the equivalent of two hundred thousand dollars at the time.” Ethan laughs. “I thought as a mechanic, h
e’d be impressed. He told me I can get the same horsepower from a Benz or Audi—considering I’ll never be able to drive the car to the max unless I want to be thrown in jail for reckless driving and speeding—without the ridiculous price tag associated with repairs and filling the tank of that monster ride.”
“I got the same lecture from my dad.” Xander chuckles. “In the end they never allowed us to fall for the illusion that the money we made would last forever if we use it up like Kleenex.”
“Thanks to them we still have money and we’ve moved onto careers we love,” Ethan concludes.
“With six kids, my parents were also very careful with money. We never went without, but Momma can stretch a dollar like no one else I know. That woman is a master at finding coupons and if there’s a sale somewhere—anywhere—Momma’s the first one in line. To this day, Daddy refuses to buy a new car—he says it’s a waste of good money. My brothers followed in his footsteps as well. Just like your fathers, my daddy loves his job. He keeps saying we’ll have to bury him with his iPad Pro still in his hands and he’s already requested we put his iMac in his coffin.” I laugh. “In other words, he has no intention of retiring. He said he’d die of boredom. Since Momma never had a career outside the home, I think she loses herself in charity work because it gives her life some meaning. She’s really good at it and she lights up when she talks about the events she’s working on. Our parents may live on opposite sides of the pond, but it sounds like they all have the same types of small-town values.” Xander and Ethan nod in agreement. We sit there in silence with us grinning at each other. The sex is an out-of-body experience with these two, but getting to know more about where they come from makes me feel that much closer to them.
“I’m all for hot and heavy… especially when it comes to our sexy little Delilah…” Xander lets his words trail off. When he flashes me a cocky look, I instantly blush.
“Here we go again.” Ethan rolls his eyes.
“Don’t you dare judge before you even know what I’m about to say,” Xander scoffs.
“All right, let’s hear it.” Ethan crosses his arms over his wide chest and slumps down against his seat. He definitely doesn’t look impressed.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Ethan was right—”
Everything about Ethan’s demeanor changes. “This is an epic moment if you’re about to agree with me. God knows it took you forever to see the light,” Ethan mocks.
“Oh, get off of it, will you?” I laugh inwardly. They’re at it again. “Just because I agree with you this one time doesn’t make you a Zen master,” Xander quips.
“I beg to differ.” Ethan’s answer is quick.
“Boys, behave,” I scold in a feigned motherly tone with an exaggerated Southern accent.
Ethan and Xander whip their heads towards me. It’s clear from their bewildered look that my comment surprises them. For a few short seconds neither of them says anything until they both start laughing at the same time. It doesn’t take me long for me to join them.
When Xander catches his breath, he speaks again. “Taking things slow tonight allowed me to get to know a lot more about you, Delilah.” Wow, I can’t believe he feels the same way I do. “Not that I needed another reason to like you anymore because I’m already crazy about you, but I think that a night like tonight—where we open up about so many personal things—just solidifies the bond between the three of us even more.”
Oh. His words leave me speechless.
“Look at that,” Ethan teases. “It turns out you might be the Zen master after all. I couldn’t agree with you more, mate.”
CHAPTER 35
Ethan
The conversation is flowing as easily as the wine. Xander and I finish a second bottle while Delilah sips her way through the Sauvignon blanc. I wouldn’t say she’s drunk—I’d cut her off well before she gets to that point—but she’s definitely lighthearted. Dessert was a smash hit. Our Texan Belle had two servings of the Hedgerow pie with custard, while Xander and I polished off three generous portions. After dessert, I decide to prepare a few Irish coffees. Xander and Delilah follow me to my kitchen because we don’t want to put an end to the conversation. Now all three of us are comfortably seated in my living room. To my surprise, Delilah embraced the hot coffee and whiskey drink. I didn’t expect her to be able to handle it considering I used a whiskey that has been aged for thirteen years, but she did and now she’s on her second cup.
Xander and I sit side by side on the large dark grey sofa. We were hoping Delilah might sit between us, but things didn’t quite turn out as expected. After gasping, she nearly sprinted to one of the big plush chairs that’s placed across from us. From her reaction, I gather that she didn’t notice them yesterday. She kicked off her sexy skyscraper heels a long time ago. Now her legs are resting against the ottoman and the way she rubs them together is driving me out of my mind. Each time she does that, her skirt inches up a bit, revealing the soft pale skin of her luscious thighs. Throughout the night, she’s been playing with her long fiery hair and now it’s falling teasingly and framing her face. She lost the ponytail she was sporting a long time ago. Thank God. I just want to devour her. Since I’m the one who’s been harping about taking things slow, I can’t exactly jump on her even if the bulge between my legs is making it more uncomfortable for me to sit. Instead, I focus on savouring my coffee. When I look at Xander I nearly burst out laughing. The way his eyebrows are raised are a dead giveaway. I’ve seen that look before. His cock is begging.
“Do you like the coffee, love?” I shift my attention to Delilah.
“It’s delicious, Ethan. It’s my first time tasting this.” She lifts her cup, almost like a salute. “I didn’t expect to like it so much that I’d go for seconds. I don’t usually drink the harder stuff.” She laughs.
“This is different. It’s laced with sugar and the whipped cream softens the effect of the alcohol,” Xander offers as an explanation.
“I’ll have to prepare café cocoa for you sometime,” I say.
“What’s that?” she asks, frowning.
“It’s a variant of the mochaccino. Mum learned how to make it for her own mother, who used to be the housekeeper to the former ambassador of France in South Africa. Instead of chocolate syrup, the drink is made with ninety percent pure cocoa for that full-bodied dark chocolate flavor. It’s robust and delicious. Mum usually prepares it for special occasions like Christmas morning. Since it doesn’t involve much, I can actually make it without burning down my kitchen.”
Both Xander and Delilah laugh at my joke.
“I’m looking forward to discovering more of your heritage.” I love to hear her say that. “In fact, since you mentioned the possibility of a trip to South Africa, I’ll admit that I’m secretly looking forward to it. It’s going to be a culture shock, I’m sure—but what an adventure.” She has no idea. South Africa is the ultimate getaway.
Spending time with Delilah and Xander in Cape Town unbothered by our daily pressures will be absolutely fantastic. I have an extraordinarily large backyard that looks more like a sultan’s courtyard than anything else. Sure, I might have gone a little crazy, but I’ve managed to create a real gem of an oasis where I can relax and leave everything behind. It goes without saying that the fifteen-foot-high cement walls keep intruders at bay. Claiming Delilah out in the open is going to be an unforgettable experience. I’m sure the minute I plant the seed in Xander’s head, he’ll be on the phone calling his travel agent to book our flights.
“It’s as good as planned, love.” I smile. “We’ll all go before your time here is up.” The idea of her leaving at the end of the summer is like a sucker punch to my guts. I push the thought aside and focus on the here and now.
“Something tells me you’ll be just like me and you won’t want to leave.” Xander winks at her.
“I’m sure I won’t. If there’s beaming sun, hot weather, the ocean as far as the eye can see and miles of sandy beaches, it would definitely make me t
hink twice before getting back on a plane and leaving Paradise behind. The idea of eating fruits that taste like fruits instead of the tasteless shit we get in New York and here in London would definitely seal the deal. I so miss that about growing up on a land where we have fruit trees. As kids, we could climb a tree when we wanted plums, apples, pears or peaches. We even had a pecan tree. Momma’s big garden is where we grew most of our vegetables.” Delilah’s answer fills me with pride. I know that my parents’ homeland can deliver that and so much more.
“We have a few cashew trees on the property,” I announce.
“You do?” Her eyes sparkle.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish,” I tempt her.
“Careful there, mister. I might just take you up on your offer and then you won’t be able to get rid of me.” And that’s a problem how? All three of us sit there in silence for a few more minutes sipping on our coffees until Delilah speaks again. “I have a question…” From the way she squints her eyes at us and scrunches her nose up, I doubt this question has anything to do with South Africa.
“Shoot,” Xander says.
“You can ask us anything,” I say.
We both answer at the same time, which makes it sound like a tangled conversation.
Deliciously British Page 40
