“Not really, but my weekend’s been made, meeting you.”
I flash her a smile, and then my eyes look forward again. Her friend is taking for-fucking-ever to take the picture.
“So, my boyfriend is out at dinner, schmoozing some clients for his company while he’s here.” She leans in, whispering in my ear, “Meaning my hotel room is empty for the next few hours. You wanna come up and fuck? I give amazing blow jobs, and I really want to suck your cock. I bet it’s massive.” Her hand grabs my cock through my jeans.
“What the fuck?” I grab her hand to remove it from my junk and spin my face to her.
I don’t get a chance to say anything else. The next thing I know, she’s landing a kiss on me.
I jerk my head back, pushing away from her. “Jesus! What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously, not happening.” I lift my hands, backing away from her. “I have a girlfriend.”
“So?” She shrugs. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”
“Did you not hear me the first time? Not fucking happening.”
“Your loss.” She shrugs. “What about your friend?” She looks at Carrick. “I wasn’t kidding about my blow-job skills. I’m amazing.”
Carrick sputters out a laugh. Lifting his hand, he says, “I’m sure you are, and I’d tell you I’m married—happily—but clearly, that wouldn’t matter to you. So, I’ll tell you, you’re definitely not my type. No, thanks, and we’ll leave it at that.”
“Andrea, I got some really good pics!” Her friend beams at her, handing her the phone back.
My eyes flash to it.
Oh no. “Did you take a picture of her kissing me?”
“Um, yeah, of course I did.” The friend gives me a dumb look.
“It’s a good one, too.” Andrea turns the screen to me, showing me the picture.
Jesus Christ. It couldn’t look more incriminating than if she were straddling me. Her hand is on my junk, her mouth on mine.
For fuck’s sake.
“You need to delete that picture. Now.”
Hearing the pissed off tone in my voice, Carrick gets up from his seat, coming to stand beside me.
“No way am I deleting it!” Andrea laughs. “This one is going in my personal spank bank, and I’m putting it up on Facebook. The amount of likes I’ll get with this will be awesome. I’ll be a fucking celeb among my mates.”
“Are you for fucking real?” I move toward her, but Carrick catches my arm, pulling me back. “I have a fucking girlfriend. And you have a boyfriend!”
“He won’t care.” She shrugs the words off. “If he even notices, then he’ll be impressed that I managed to get a kiss from you. You’re his hero. He loves watching you race. You’re the reason we’re here.”
This woman is crazy. “You’re insane. You and your fucking boyfriend. Now, delete the fucking picture.”
“No.” She lifts her chin in a defiant manner before putting her phone in her clutch.
I grind my teeth in frustration. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Delete that fucking picture.”
She lets out a laugh. “You can’t make me. Actually…” She taps her finger to her lips. “A pic like this and you having a girlfriend. I bet I could make a mint, selling it to a tabloid.”
I actually growl.
“Let her sell it,” Carrick says from beside me. “All that matters is India knows the truth. Tell her what happened, so she expects to see it. I was here. I can vouch for you.”
Ignoring Carrick, I step toward Andrea, and she takes a step back.
“Delete the fucking picture,” I repeat in a low, menacing voice.
“Fuck you.” She turns on her heel and starts to walk away from me.
“You’re a fucking bitch!” I yell to her back, losing my cool.
Stopping, she turns back, a smug smile spreading across her face. “You’ve just doubled the money I’ll get with that comment.” She wafts a hand at the people who are watching our exchange. “You’re my witness, right, Bev?” She nudges her friend.
“Yeah.” Bev lifts her chin. “I heard everything. How he tried to hit on you and then called you a bitch when you turned him down.”
What the actual fuck?
I shouldn’t be shocked, but I am. I guess I’ve gotten used to being around India and how much of a good person she is that I’d forgotten what fucking bastards people could be.
“And you”—I point a finger at Bev—“you’re a fucking cunt. Use that to quadruple your money, you pair of soulless bitches!”
Andrea gives me the middle finger, and then they’re both walking away.
“Nicely played.” Carrick’s hand lands square on my shoulder. “I thought you handled that really well. I specifically love the soulless bitches line.”
“Fuck off,” I grunt, shrugging off his hand.
He laughs, loudly. “It’s a good thing you are retiring. Keep this kind of shit up, and you wouldn’t have a fucking career left. Come on, old man. Let’s finish our beer, and then you can call India and tell her what happened.”
I’M RELAXING IN MY BATH, sipping on my wine, Adam Levine telling me “It Was Always You.” Well, not me specifically, but a girl can dream, right?
Then, my phone starts going crazy. When I say crazy, I mean, a quick succession of texts come through, and my phone starts ringing at the same time.
I reach a hand out of the tub, quickly drying it on the towel hanging on the rail by my head, and grab my phone off the floor.
I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a local area code, so I connect the call. “Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Dr. Harris?”
“You are. Who is this?”
“My name is Sally, and I’m an operator at Safer Security, your alarm provider. I’m calling to let you know that the alarm at your office has gone off. I’ve temporarily disabled it from my end, and the police have been notified and are on their way to check it out.”
“You’re kidding?” I sit up, the water sloshing all around me. “Was the office broken into?”
“I don’t know the situation yet. But if you want to wait, I can call you back once the police have notified us.”
“No.” I stand up, stepping out of the bath. “You say the police are going now. I’ll head there myself. Thank you for calling me.”
“All part of the service, Dr. Harris. Please call me once the police have assessed the situation. I can have the alarm enabled at my end, and I would advise setting a new code.”
“I will. Thanks.” I hang up and grab a towel from the railing, wrapping it around myself.
I don’t believe this.
I glance down at my phone, seeing the texts are from Leandro. Four of them.
Trying to call you, but for some reason, it’s not connecting.
Ring me when you get this text.
P.S. I love you.
A lot. XX
That puts a temporary smile on my face, and then I remember that my office might have been broken into.
I’ll text him back once I know what’s going on at my office.
I quickly dress in jeans and a T-shirt, leaving my hair tied up, and I jog down the stairs.
I’ve just reached the bottom step when Kit and Jett come in through the front door, pizza boxes in hand.
“Hey, Mum. What’s up?” Jett asks at my expression.
“I just got a call from the alarm company. My office alarm has been going off. I’m heading there now.”
“You’re kidding,” Jett says.
“Wish I was.” I sigh.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Kit asks.
“No, it’s fine. The police will be there.”
“The police?” Kit frowns.
“It’s the alarm company’s standard policy when the alarm goes off. You stay here with Jett.”
“Well, take Jonah with you, just to be safe.”
“No. I’d rather Jonah stay here and watch over Jett.”
“I’m fine,” Jett says.
“I’ll watch over Jett.” Kit gives me a pointed look. “You take Jonah.”
“Okay,” I concede, not having the energy to argue with Kit. I slip my feet into my ballet flats, pull on my coat, and put my phone in the pocket. “I’ll see you both soon. Save me some pizza.”
I let myself out into the cool night air and walk toward Jonah’s car. He gets out at my approach.
“There’s a problem at my office, the alarm is going off, so I need to head there now. Kit is staying here with Jett.”
“Okay. I’ll drive you.”
On the drive to my office, I ponder calling Leandro, but I decide to wait until I know what’s going on at my office.
I see the police car outside my building. Jonah parks up behind it. I get out, and Jonah follows me. I approach the female police officer who is standing by the car.
“I’m Dr. Harris. This is my office building,” I tell her. “Safer Security called me about the alarm going off.”
“I’m afraid your office has been broken into, Dr. Harris.”
“Why would anyone break into my office? It’s not like I have valuables. Only my iMac. Oh, shit! Has my iMac been stolen? It has all my patient details on there.”
“I didn’t see a computer when I was in your office, Dr. Harris. I’m afraid the place has been left in a bit of a mess. We’ve got someone coming now to fingerprint. But you can go in and look, see what’s missing, so long as you don’t touch anything.”
“Okay, I’ll do that now. I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”
“I’m Police Constable Fellows. My colleague PC Hunter is in your office.”
I follow behind PC Fellows up to my office, Jonah close behind me. Who I’m assuming is PC Hunter, is in the reception of my office. It looks untouched, except for Sophie’s iMac, which is missing.
“Hunter, this is Dr. Harris. This is her office. I’ve said that she can look around, see what’s missing, so long as she doesn’t touch anything.”
“Of course,” he says.
Stepping past PC Hunter, I walk through my office door, which I always lock after I leave for the day. By the looks of the smashed wood, it was kicked open. I gasp, upon entering my office. The whole place has been trashed—furniture upturned, my bookcase pulled over, papers and books everywhere.
My iMac is nowhere to be seen.
Fuck.
“Anything missing?”
I turn to the voice of PC Fellows, who is standing in the doorway.
“My receptionist’s iMac from out there.” I point behind her. “And my iMac in here.” I let out a deep sigh. “It has all of my patients’ details on it. They’re confidential. The files are password-protected, but still…” I trail off, worried about my patients’ details and treatment files being potentially read by someone else.
“I wouldn’t worry. It’ll surely be wiped and fenced pretty quickly. That’s how these things usually work.”
“I won’t get it back?”
“I doubt it.” She gives me a resigned look. “It’s strange though. When we see smash-and-grabs like this, they don’t usually take the time to trash the place. They just take what they can and go, especially when an alarm is going off. Probably a junkie, who was high.”
I let out a shuddering breath. “I just can’t believe this.” I shake my head, disbelieving the mess around me. “I guess I had better call my insurance company.”
“I am sorry, Dr. Harris.”
I walk back out of my office with PC Fellows. Jonah is still in reception, waiting for me, PC Hunter is nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll be right outside,” PC Fellows tells me, exiting the room.
“Anything missing?” Jonah asks me.
“From what I can tell, just my iMac and my receptionist’s. Oh, and my office has been trashed, too.”
“Trashed?” He frowns.
“Yeah. Furniture upturned, books and papers everywhere. Looks like a tornado blew through the place.”
His brows pull tight together. “I’m going to make a call, make sure Paul is still in Manchester.”
“What? You don’t think it could be him? The policewoman said she thought it was just a smash-and-grab.”
“Since when do smash-and-grabbers spend time trashing the place? I’ll call, make sure he’s still there.” He pulls his phone from his jacket pocket and makes the call. “It’s Jonah. I need you to check an electronic tag for me. Paul Connelly. Manchester. Yeah. Call me back.” He slips his phone back in his pocket. “We’ll know in a few minutes if he’s still there.”
“Okay.” I start to nervously twist my fingers.
It seems like forever before Jonah’s phone rings.
“Yeah? He’s still there.” He meets my eye. “Good. Thanks.” He hangs up the phone. “He’s still in Manchester at home. This wasn’t him.”
“Thank God.” I sigh in relief.
“I’m gonna call Andre, let him know what’s happened. You might want to call Leandro. Andre will call him right after he speaks to me—he has to report everything to him—so you might want to beat Andre to it.”
“I’ll call him now.”
“I’M CATCHING THE FIRST FLIGHT BACK.” I climb out of bed and grab my jeans off the chair, pulling them on.
“No, stay where you are.” India’s stern voice comes down the line.
“You’ve been fucking robbed, India. I’m coming home.”
“My office was burgled. I wasn’t in any danger. I was at home when it happened.”
“Your office is broken into, and the fucking pedophile cunt who threatened you recently got out of prison. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I am coming home. And it’s nonnegotiable, India.”
“It is a coincidence. Jonah had Paul’s electronic tag checked. He’s still in Manchester in his house. Leandro”—she drops the tone in her voice to softer—“you need to stay in Belgium. You have a race to do.”
“I couldn’t give a fuck about my race right now,” I snap.
“You might not, but your team will. And the sponsors and all the fans who bought tickets to come watch the race—they all give a fuck. The burglary has nothing to do with Paul. The police think it was just a junkie looking for things to sell.”
“Fuck!” I drag my hand through my hair, rubbing at my scalp, feeling helpless and frustrated, and hating it. “Who the hell robs a therapist? It’s not like you have anything of value in your office.”
“The police think he might have seen the sign on my door, seen the word doctor, and probably thought that I had prescription drugs on site.”
“Fucking scum,” I growl. Taking a pause, I breathe deep, trying to calm down. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry.”
“I am going to worry because I’m here while you are there, and I feel fucking helpless. I hate that I’m not there with you, to help you.”
“Just hearing your voice helps me. And I got your texts earlier. They came through at the same time as when the alarm company called, but I came straight to the office. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to reply.”
I cringe, remembering why I had text her. “Don’t worry about that. Where are you right now? Are you okay to talk? There is something you need to know. The reason I text earlier…God, it’s been a shit night all around.”
“I’m sitting in Jonah’s car. He’s in my building, on the phone with Andre. What’s wrong, Leandro?”
I can hear the worry in her voice loud and clear.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about…and I am really sorry to land this on you when you are already dealing with the burglary, but I don’t want to not tell you, and then the pictures appear in the news, and you see them.”
“Pictures?” Her voice goes cold. “What pictures?”
I let out a sigh. “I was in the hotel bar with Carrick earlier, having a beer. A woman came over, asked to have her picture taken with me. So, I said yes because I have to do shit like th
at, and to cut a long story short—and this is going to sound bad, India, so hear me out first—this woman propositioned me while her friend took pictures of us, and…she grabbed my crotch. As I tried to get her hand off of me, I turned my face in her direction in shock, and she…kissed me.” I wince at what I’m telling her. “Her friend caught the whole fucking debacle on camera…and I…kind of lost my temper. She was threatening to sell the photos to the press.” I’m quick to add, “So, I might have called her a soulless bitch and her friend a fucking cunt.”
When I finish, there’s just absolute silence on the end of the phone. I close my eyes against it, worried about what’s going through her mind.
“India…babe, are you still there?”
She exhales. “I’m here.”
Relief. “Are you…okay?”
“Just processing.”
“I am sorry.”
“It’s not your fault that some lunatic woman violated you. I’m actually pretty fucking angry. If a guy did that to a woman, he’d be arrested for assault.”
A smile pushes up my lips. “I fucking love you, a real lot, India Harris.”
“I love you a whole lot, too, Leandro Silva.”
“When my season is over, I’m taking you and Jett on a long vacation where there are no junkie burglars or psycho crotch-grabbing women.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
“It will be, babe. I promise.”
“I should go.” She sighs. “I need to call my insurance company, and someone is coming to fingerprint my office. I have to wait until they’re done, so I can call the alarm company, and they can reset the alarm. Not that there’s much point as there’s nothing left to steal.”
“Leave it. Go home, and sort the alarm out in the morning. Like you said, there is nothing left to steal.”
“Yeah…I might do that.”
“I’ll have to call Sophie first thing, let her know. We need to cancel my patients for Monday, as I can’t see the office being in any sort of shape by then. I’ll need to get some new furniture and computers. God, my head’s hurting from just thinking about it. Ugh, tomorrow is going to suck monkey balls.”
“Suck monkey balls?” I laugh.
“It’s a saying…not a nice one. In fact I have no clue where I heard it from or why I even used it.” She giggles, and the sound soothes me.
Revived Page 20
