Mister Maybe: A Steamy Novella (The Mister Series Book 1)

by Emma Powell

  ‘No worries.’ An awkward silence sat between them.

  ‘Allergies suck.’ Rich offered, as a way to break the silence.

  She turned to face him a tired smile on her face. He could see that tears still lingered in her hazel flecked eyes and a stray curl of her red hair had fallen from its ponytail. He suddenly wanted to reach out and gently tuck it behind her ear. She beat him to it.

  They held each others’ gaze for a moment.

  ‘I’ve actually never suffered from allergies,‘ Laney said, her voice a mere shadow of itself. ‘The truth is it’s my mum. She’s dying.’

  Laney

  She’d never actually said those words out loud. Not even to her best friends. She’d said things like; My Mum has cancer; It’s not good; It’s palliative; Only months to live.

  She had thought it, a lot, but speaking it somehow made it real and she’d picked the middle of the night, during the so-called festive season while sitting next to a spunky stranger to voice it.

  She saw a flicker of pity move across his ocean blue eyes. Ugh not more pity. She broke their gaze, focussing on the red brake lights of the car in front.

  She could feel his eyes still on her. ‘Oh Laney. I’m sorry,’ he murmured, his voice soft and deep.

  ‘No need to be sorry. It’s not your fault,’ she joked, forcing a laugh.

  She knew exactly what she was doing. Make a joke to diffuse the situation. Keep it light Laney. No need to go deep with an Uber passenger. That was just weird and a little bit unprofessional. Besides they’d been having a nice conversation and she went and ruined it ... with feelings. She should’ve stuck with the allergy story.

  ‘I lost my mum five years ago so I know the drill,’ Rich sighed.

  They sat in shared silence, interrupted by the blare of a car horn from an impatient driver a few cars back.

  ‘Sometimes I feel like she’s counselling me through it instead of the other way around,’ Laney breathed, surprising herself with her confession. ‘Like just last week she told me I was going to be ok and that it would be awful for awhile but eventually I would feel better.’ A small sob caught in her throat and she swallowed it down.

  Rich shifted in his seat and turned to her. ‘She’s right. It is awful,’ he said, seeming to shake his head at the memory. ‘The amount of grief you’ll have is the same as the amount of love you have for her. But, as time goes on you will find a place in your heart for that grief. It becomes a part of you.’

  Laney nodded and gave him a gentle smile, unable to speak in case the only thing that came out was blubbering.

  He returned the smile and reached across, touching her shoulder. She knew it was meant to comfort her but it felt like a mini bolt of lighting had shot down her body. She let out a short gasp and he pulled his hand away.

  ‘Sorry,’ he muttered as if scolded.

  She wanted to tell him it was fine. That her gasp wasn’t a how dare you touch me gasp. It was an Oh God that was good gasp. But instead she sat staring at the cars in front of her, hyper aware of the warm hum that lingered where his hand had been.

  It was awkward again and they sat listening to some raspy voiced singer screeching about living on prayers as the car inched forward another few feet.

  Rich drummed his fingers against the neck of the bottle in time with the music and all Laney could think about was how she wished he’d drum his fingers on her.

  Laney hated uncomfortable silences. And, if she was honest, didn’t want an uncomfortable anything with Rich, so she gestured to the bottle, in between his legs. ‘That’s a nice drop you’ve got there,’ she said, giving herself an internal eye roll at how inappropriate it was to point to his crotch.

  Rich stopped his percussion and held it up to look at the label. ‘Yep. One of our better…drops, as you call it.’

  ‘Our?’ Laney glanced across at him. She watched as he rolled the bottle gently in his hands, noticing how much of the bottle they covered – they were…large. Her shoulder buzzed with the memory.

  ‘My family’s.’

  ‘Your family owns Xroad Winery?’

  ‘Sure do. Three generations.’

  ‘I love your wines. When I can afford them. Not your standard Uber driver, post-work refreshment.’

  ‘We’re releasing a cheaper range early next year.’

  ‘Well, unless it’s in a box I’m not interested!’ Laney tossed her head, feigning insult.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do madam,’ Rich replied, dropping his head in compliance.

  ‘Just remember that while you’ll be sipping from that eighty dollar bottle of Chardonnay, I’ll be partaking of a cheeky cask Cab Sav that could quite easily double as toilet cleaner.’

  Rich screwed up his face and shook his head. ‘That’s just criminal. Criminal I tell you.’

  ‘Well lock me up and throw away the key.’ Laney laughed along with him. ‘So which of your new lot would you recommend for a weary driver?’

  ‘You should try The Intersect, which is a pinot cabernet blend. I think you’d like it. It’s bold with a touch of sweetness.’

  She felt him glance over at her and smile. She couldn’t be sure if he meant her or the wine.

  At long last they reached the Booze Bus. Laney passed the breath testing procedures with flying colours and was waved off by the cop.

  Free from traffic Laney turned onto the freeway, city-bound, and about ten minutes until they reached the hotel. She wondered if there was a special someone waiting for him there and felt a tiny pang of envy that it wasn’t her.

  She glanced over at him. He was looking out the window —looking for oncoming traffic as most passengers did, classic back (front) seat driving. She took in his broad shoulders and his dark wavy hair and was glad she had to have both hands on the steering wheel or she would’ve reached across to entwine her fingers in its waviness. Just at that moment he turned and his eyes delved into hers. A tiny shiver ran down her spine. It could also have been because she’d been driving a car for six hours straight and her back sometimes spasmed if she didn’t get out and stretch.

  A pair of headlights shining into the car from behind forced Laney to drag her attention back to the road and she moved across to the slow lane as the car sped past them, the passengers leaning out the window flipping them the bird and yelling profanities.

  Laney wanted to flip them right back but before she could, Rich buzzed his window down, leaned out and blew them a kiss. She threw her head back and laughed out loud with the sudden realisation that she no longer felt exhausted. It was a good feeling and one that she wished didn’t have to end.

  But end it did, when ten minutes later Laney pulled into the driveway of The Noviello.

  Rich turned to her ‘Thank you Laney. It was a pleasure. Best Uber driver ever.’

  She’d had that compliment before from a bunch of young women on a night out on the town and an elderly man who needed help in and out of the car with his walker. But coming from Rich it made her blush. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  She dropped her head to hide the heat rising in her face. ‘Why thank you kind sir. You’re the best passenger ever.’ He was.

  He opened the door, swinging his legs out and then paused, glancing back as if he’d forgotten something.

  Their eyes locked and it was if time stopped. Rich inhaled sharply and was about to say something when a car horn interrupted the moment. Laney blinked quickly and turned away, every cell in her body buzzing. She actually felt like she was going to faint and she knew it wasn’t a lack of food. It was Rich.

  She felt him get out of the car and it kind of hurt a little bit. She wanted to say ‘Don’t go.’ But instead she went the cowards route. ‘See ya. Have a good night.’

  Rich poked his head back in. ‘Thanks again,’ he said, his voice deep and soft. ‘And I’m sorry about your mum. You’ll be ok.’

  Laney looked ahead and nodded.

  ‘Ok,’ he repeated and then closed the door. He gave the roof a tap and Lan
ey pulled out of the driveway, with ridiculous tears threatening to fall.

  Grow up Laney. He’s hot and sexy and you had a reaction to him. Who wouldn’t? Get over it and go home.

  Rich

  Rich stood in the hallway of The Noviello, outside room 104 and assumed he was in for a night of hot sex. He hoped there might some conversation in there somewhere but he doubted it. Oh well, life could be worse. But all he could think about was the funny, pixie like redhead that had driven him there.

  He wanted to know more about her and had almost asked if he could see her again before he got out of the car. But after her reaction when he’d touched her shoulder he thought better of it.

  The only thing he knew about Laney was that she drove a red Toyota Corolla; drank cask wine; had a laugh and a voice that did things to him on a cellular level and her mum was dying. He wished he could be there to comfort her during the whole mess of losing someone she loved.

  He took a deep breath, and shook his head to get Laney out of it as he knocked on the door.

  It was answered almost immediately, by drop dead blonde woman, draped in the hotel’s bathrobe.

  ‘Housekeeping!’ Rich announced as she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the room.

  The joke fell on deaf ears because before the door had even shut Charlotte had her hungry, insistent lips on his, and was unbuttoning his shirt with her nimble, well manicured fingers.

  Rich pulled back gently and chuckled. ‘Hello to you too.’

  Charlotte continued with her task of unbuttoning his shirt as she shot him a sexy smile. ‘I’m horny baby. You know me. I’ve got an early flight as well so don’t want to waste time.’

  ‘Talking isn’t a waste of time.’

  ‘We can talk after.’ Charlotte pulled his shirt away from his body and giving a moan of approval she ran her hand down his bare chest to the top of his jeans where she made light work of unfastening them.

  Despite knowing he was being used just for sex, Rich felt himself respond to her hands. Charlotte noticed and used the palm of her hand to gently rub him over his jeans.

  ‘You really want to talk?’ she whispered as she stepped back and let the robe drop to the floor. She was naked underneath. Rich ran his eyes over her magnificent, lean, tanned body, his arousal starting to ache under the constraints of the denim.

  He reached out and pulled her to him, his lips dropping to her erect nipples, licking and sucking, one then the other.

  She pulled him over to the bed and after removing his jeans he found her wetness. As he entered her he glanced down and for a moment he saw a freckle faced Laney looking up at him and he felt his hardness swell and he groaned.

  ‘Fuck me,’ demanded Charlotte, which shook him out of his fantasy. ‘Fuck me now.’

  So he did.

  Afterwards, Rich lay next to Charlotte who was in a deep sleep.

  After their hot session, he’d been talking enthusiastically about the new range of Xpress wines and she’d been umming and ahhhing in all the right places, until he realised her breathing had become deep and regular with sleep.

  He glanced over at the neon numbers on the beside table clock. It read three thirty four a.m. He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight that was for sure. Slipping out of bed, he paced across the room, trying to calm his anxiety. He’d known it wasn’t quite right with Charlotte and meeting Laney had confirmed it. His connection with Charlotte was purely physical and it had certainly been tonnes of fun and what he thought he needed. But there’d been a different, deeper connection with Laney and he was realising that even though he didn’t believe in soul mates, it was closer to what he wanted.

  He opened the curtains and looked out across the Melbourne skyline wondering where, in amongst the night time lights of the suburbs Laney lived

  ‘What are you doing babe?’ Charlotte’s sleepy voice cut into his thoughts.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said as he crawled back into bed, ‘just couldn’t sleep.’

  Charlotte slid over to him, her hand resting just below his belly button, her smooth skin against his. ‘Let me help.’

  He felt bad that he was thinking of another woman but in reality the chances of seeing Laney again were miniscule. A small moan escaped his lips in disappointment, which Charlotte mistook as pleasure and he soon forgot his moral dilemma as they started to kiss and her talented hands went to work.

  Laney

  Laney pulled into her mum’s driveway. Even though she’d had a second wind of energy with Rich, a wave of exhaustion hit her as she turned the car off.

  She missed her own bed. She’d moved into her mum’s place ever since the diagnosis and the bed in the spare room was a forever-years-old single, and the mattress was saggy and lumpy.

  Debra, her mum, wanted to die at home. So between her brother, her mum’s friends and the government’s palliative services they were going to try and make that happen.

  She dragged herself out of the car and grimaced as she straightened up when all of sudden her driving leg cramped. She screamed internally, not wanting to wake the neighbourhood and at the same time berating herself for going too long without a break. Stretching the leg out, the cramp eventually subsided and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  As she reached back into the car to grab her phone charger chord from the cigarette lighter outlet she saw a glint of something poking out underneath the passenger seat. Oh great. Someone’s left their wallet. Again.

  The last time that’d happened it was a real drama trying to get the wallet back to the drunk girl who’d dropped it. In the end Laney had taken it to the local police and left it there. She was sure the cops would rather have been spending their time catching murderers instead of tracking down Amy from Red Hill.

  She reached down to grab the wallet and discovered it was actually a bottle of wine – a bottle of eighty-dollar Xroads Chardonnay to be exact. And it was still cold.

  She didn’t know if he’d left it by mistake or on purpose but either way she was thrilled and couldn’t wait to get inside and pour herself a glass. Part of her thought maybe she should try and get it back to him but the other part figured he’d have plenty more where that came from. Laney grinned and hugged the bottle to her chest and whispered. ‘Thank you Rich,’ wishing she could give him an actual hug, but a five-star review would have to do.

  Laney headed straight for the kitchen and opened the bottle, with a corkscrew. It had taken her twenty minutes to find a ruddy corkscrew because none of the wine her or her mum ever bought since 1998 had corks in them.

  She poured a generous serve and the glug glug glug of the wine pouring into the glass relaxed her. It always did.

  She swirled the wine around and watched the legs trickle down the inside of the glass. A few years back she had taken a weekend beginner’s course in wine tasting with one of her BFF’s, Nerida. Because of the amount of wine they drank they didn’t remember much. Except for the explanation of the stuff that ran down the inside of a glass being ‘legs’ which indicated how high the alcohol content was. Because alcohol content was important.

  She closed her eyes and took her first sip. Heaven. The rich oaky liquid slipped easily down her throat and as she took another swallow she raised her middle finger to the cask of Cab Sav sitting above the fridge.

  Out in the lounge her brother was fast asleep on the couch. No tell tale signs of drinking anywhere. Laney was impressed, as well as feeling like a hypocrite considering she’d given him such a hard time about his drinking when she was already half way through her bottle. She draped a light rug over him and blew him a kiss.

  The next stop was her mum’s bedroom. She needed another good sip before heading in there. As the wine tickled her taste buds she remembered what Rich had said. That the amount of love equalled the amount of grief. If he was right she was in for some big time grief.

  She stepped just inside the door and stood, watching the tiny figure curled up in the hospital bed that had been provided free of charge by the palli
ative care unit. The air was filled with the soft sound of the morphine pump, the bubble of water from the electronic essential oil diffuser - which was lavender tonight – and the almost imperceptible breath coming from the bed.

  Laney made space for her glass on the bedside table next to a myriad of prescription pills and liquids and placed it down.

  ‘Is that for me?’ her mum whispered, making Laney jump with fright.

  ‘Oh God Mum you scared me to death,’ Laney reprimanded gently.

  ‘That makes both of us then,’ her mum quipped.

  ‘Don’t even joke about that.’ Laney sat on the edge of the bed and took her mum’s hand in hers.

  ‘None of us get out of here alive darling,’ her mum said, gently squeezing Laney’s hand. ‘So are you off the red tonight?’ she continued, with a nod towards the wine glass.

  Laney reached across and picked up the glass and swirled as she spoke. ‘Interesting story. It’s an Xroads Chardi. And it was left in the car by my last passenger, Mr. Xroads himself.’

  Her mum gave a low hum of approval, her eyes fixed on Laney’s. ‘On purpose?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Laney shrugged, hoping her mum didn’t see her rising blush.

  ‘Hmmm well according to that blush, lets just say he did. And anyway, he’s got plenty more where that came from. Now let me try,’ her mum insisted, pushing on her frail arms to sit up.

  Laney propped pillows behind and around her for support, then handed her the glass. It looked huge in her mum’s delicate hand, which shook a little as she raised it to her lips. She took a decent sip. ‘That’s a nice drop. Woody with a bit of peach. Lovely.’ She handed the glass back to Laney and dropped her head back into the pillows, a contented smile passing her lips as she let out a soft happy sigh.

  Laney set the glass back onto the bedside table and covering her face with her hands, willed herself not to cry. Her mum was right about the peach and the wood but Laney also knew she wouldn’t have tasted either of them. The morphine had changed all of that.