“I am nobody’s dog, Evelyn, certainly not Alex’s, and actually, he doesn’t even know I’m here,” I reply as the waiter returns with a bottle of something. I haven’t got a clue what it is but I trust his judgement and nod for him to pour.
“I thought better of Conner than this. I’ll have to add manipulation and deceit to his rather impressive qualities,” she says as she picks up her wine and cleans the stem with her napkin, sneering at it as she does so. I honestly can’t breathe in that moment. Her look of disgust is so frighteningly familiar that I don’t even know what to do, let alone say. So I, of course, have a giggling fit. Helpful, full of authority, Beth. Well done.
I gaze across at her and realise my attempt to outdo her Alexness is simply not going to work. I’m not even sure Alex will be able to beat her at it. Oh, sod it, I’m going for me instead.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this at all. Evelyn, please, I’m here to help. Let’s just get on with why you don’t want to come tonight and hopefully I can fill you in on what you’re missing out on,” I say with the warmest smile I can find. It’s the one I use on Alex. Hopefully she’ll find it as mesmerising. Something in her face softens a little and I notice a twinkle of amusement hidden in the depths of those blue eyes.
“You are very beautiful. Mum said you were,” she replies with a sigh as she leans forward a little and taps her fingers on the table rhythmically - still freaky. “Elizabeth, I’m simply not ready to meet him. Yesterday my life was structured and happy. Today it is not. Would you not want a little time to think it all through? If you are the heart that beats for him as Mum says then I’m sure you’ll understand my hesitance.”
Wow, she said that? God, is that what I’m seen as? The heart that beats for him? Is that what she thinks he is? Oh my god, she’s so wrong. I instantly realise that even if I don’t see a cold man anymore, I suppose everyone else still does, including her, obviously. Come to think of it, I think even he does. I need to change that. The waiter approaches again with his pen so I glare at him as politely as I can and he leaves. Good boy.
“Evelyn, please call me Beth. I can assure you he has a very decent heart of his own. He just needs a little peace to settle in it. I don’t know how much you know about him, but he hasn’t been as fortunate as you. His childhood wasn’t as structured as you say, and he just wants to meet a family he never knew he had. Can you understand that?” I return as I gaze at her and hope to tap into her emotional side. She clearly has one. It’s more evident than her brother’s, but then I suppose it would be given her childhood.
“Beth, I know exactly what the man is. I’ve done enough research in the last twelve hours to last me a lifetime. He’s callous, cold and manipulative, probably a complete arsehole and definitely a player. If you choose to be associated with someone like him that’s up to you, but I will take my own damn time making up my mind if he’s someone I want in my life. He will not dictate my future simply because he’s the infamous Alexander White. His title or connections are of no consequence to me. I don’t even know if I want a brother in my life at all,” she spits elegantly. I’ve never seen someone spit venom as beautifully as her, and while she’s clearly wrong, I can’t help but admire her spirit and need to be separated from his wealth. I stare over at her with narrowed eyes because, regardless of her cruel words, I realise I like her. She’s so much like him it’s ridiculous. It’s like she’s got all of his acumen and poise without his insecurities or tortured soul issues. He’s going to love her.
“You would see that side of him because you haven’t had a chance to see the other side of him, and believe me, you’re spot on with your analysis. Actually, he’s probably worse in some respects but when you break through that and find the man beneath, there’s a very different version waiting for you. I love Alex very much and I want to do everything I can to make him happy. So tell me, what do you need to know to make you change your mind and come to this party? Would you like to talk to Conner about him instead of me? They’re best friends and it seems you like him so maybe his opinion would help you. Equally, if you want to just see Alex privately, I can arrange that, too. I think he just thinks being at a function will be less intense. Although to be honest, I think the two of you are so alike that intense will more than likely follow you wherever you go. You’re so much like him, Evelyn, everything, your mannerisms, your features. Christ, even the way you’re sitting there looking at me as if you could rip my head off for even daring to challenge your thoughts, he hates that, too, by the way.”
Oh yes, and there’s that eyebrow inching at me.
I snort out a giggle and shake my head at their similarities .“Look please, Evelyn, just give this a chance and let me help you both find each other. We both know you’re intrigued, otherwise you’d have left by now, wouldn’t you?”
Well, I’ve given that my best shot. Her face hasn’t wavered in the slightest apart from the slight brow lift, also just like Alex. The smile that spreads across my face at the thought again is instant so I grab the bottle and refill our almost empty glasses to try and give her a moment to think about her response. Her brow furrows, yes, just like Alex. I almost choke on my wine as I try to contain another burst of giggles. She raises it and I watch in happiness as her face softens to the most relaxed I’ve seen her so far.
“Not an arsehole then?” she says through a tight smile. She’s weakening. Go me.
“Sometimes, most of the time he’s wonderful, though,” I reply. Much as I love him, he can be a complete prick every now and then.
“Manipulative?” Oh, that’s a good one.
“Definitely. Watch your back with that one, and ruthless with it,” I say as I arch my brow at her. “Took me a while to figure that one out. I’m still trying if I’m honest but I’m slowly winning the game.” She smirks.
“Player?” God, I hope not.
“Was he or is he?” She quirks her mouth up more and giggles a little. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh, and there’s nothing cute or girly about it, not that I expected it. My phone beeps so I pull it out to check it.
- Where are you?
I check my watch. It’s two-fifteen. Shit, oh well, I’m trying to save his family. He’ll get over it.
“Beth, I don’t know how I feel. I can’t be expected to come running into his arms or something equally as pathetic. I didn’t even know I had a brother yesterday, let alone that I was a product of a sexual transgression. I just don’t think I’m in the mood for a party or for acting like I care about someone I don’t even know,” she says with a sigh as she pinches her brow. I reach across and snag her hand away gently.
“He does that, too, you know? Please, Evelyn, just give this a chance. He doesn’t know how he feels either and you’ll both just have to work it out as you go along. I’ll play middleman if you like but honestly, I think you’re going to get along very well indeed,” I reply as I sit back and realise that my work here is done. I have nothing left to give her and she’s at least giving it some thought now.
“Thank you for coming,” she says as she abruptly stands. “And please tell Conner his point has been made.” I rise with her and drop some cash onto the table for the wine as we wander over to the door. My phone beeps again. I’ll check it in a minute.
“Can I give you a lift somewhere?” I ask as I give the ticket to the valet.
“Would you want to meet him if you were me?” she asks quietly.
“Evelyn, I’m not you. I’m me, and I wouldn’t be without him. He’s my life. I can’t imagine what’s going through your mind right now and I sympathise, but I’m afraid I can’t answer that for you. Just remember he isn’t a monster, and he’s just as nervous as you are about all this, not that he’d want me to tell you that,” I reply as I watch the Aston screech around the corner and take a step toward it. “Do you want a lift? I’m going to him now if you want to join me?” She looks at the car with a smile and shakes her head.
“No, thank you. Is that his?” she que
stions. I giggle and nod at her. “Funny, I was looking into getting one last weekend, same colour, too.” I smile warmly at her and wonder whether I should give her a hug or something. She sticks out her hand, clearly not a hugger, so I shake her hand and slide into the car.
“Do you want my number?” I call out as she begins to turn away.
“No, I know how to get hold of you, Elizabeth Scott of Scott’s catering, sister Anabelle, Apartment 14, Risler Building.” I look at her in shock. What is it with these people and knowing everything about me? “I told you, Beth, I like research and I’m a whizz at hacking all sorts of things. Your bank balance is pretty great, too,” she says as she smiles brightly and turns again.
“That’s just like him, too, knowing everything,” I shout out as she waves and quite sexily swings her hips down the road. I pull out my phone again as I watch her sweep away. At least she doesn’t walk like him, which would be all kinds of wrong.
- Elizabeth, where the fuck are you?
Okay, so now he’s pissed off? Great. I check my watch - two-forty-five, fabulous. What’s his sodding problem anyway? It’s only forty-five minutes. Here I am trying to save his family connections and he’s getting all pissy because I’m a little late. The word arsehole springs to mind. I quickly reply that I’m running late and that I love him then toss the phone on the passenger seat as I pull into the traffic.
Twenty-five minutes later and I eventually pull onto the gravel driveway, feeling slightly freaked out by the fact that for the first time I’m driving in here by myself. I even have a key to open the front door if I want, which is even more bizarre - lovely, but strange nonetheless. I feel the grin spread across my face at the thought of the word home. Could it be possible that I will move in here and set up home with him? I giggle at myself and actually start to believe that all of this is real, that Alexander White is a possibility for life. I know he loves me and that giving me free access to his home is a precious thing for him, and I assume driving his car is also an honour not often bestowed. So perhaps this is it. Perhaps I have met my mate for life. Then I realise I don’t have any clue how to open the garage door. Balls! Not quite as at home as I thought then.
I park the car at the door and dig out my keys, hoping that he’s not still pissed off about whatever he was pissed off about because I do not want this evening ruined for him, and us fighting is not going to start the evening off with a great deal of happiness, is it?
Opening the door, I hear the dark, heavy beats of some unknown music drifting along the corridors. At first I think it’s coming from the kitchen and then the dull bass pulls my head in the other direction, past the music room somewhere. I put my bag on the table and wander toward the thumping notes as they get louder. I’ve never been down this corridor before and wonder where I’m going to find him. The walls are slightly less well designed here and the walkway seems to be narrowing a little. I realise I must be heading towards the old servant’s quarters. All these old manors would have probably had hundreds of below stairs maids and butlers years ago. I pause as I struggle to know which way to go at a junction, left, right or the doorway in front of me.
The music is louder here and I can’t get a sense of which direction it’s coming from, so I decide to wing it and open the door in front of me. It’s clearly the right choice because the music is suddenly pounding my eardrums as I enter a small atrium. The ceiling is as high as the house and the skylight above casts a dreary glow across the space around me, making me feel ominously small for some reason. I can almost feel the beat of the bass in the fibre of the area as I edge forward. It’s almost satanic in its relentless rhythm and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to implant some guts back into myself. Something feels weird, off, and I don’t like it at all. Where is he?
I swing my head around, trying to find the source of the music. I can’t find it so I clip my way to the first door and gently push it open. It’s empty apart from a couple of pieces of old furniture so I turn again and head for the next one.
“Alex?” I call out, hoping that he can hear me above the noise. There’s no response, just the same repetitive darkened notes. “Alex, where are you?” I shout a little louder as I reach the next door. The room’s the same as the last. I rub my arms as a shiver runs across my skin and wonder whether it’s him or the atmosphere around me. Perhaps it’s haunted down here?
I reach the door at the end of the atrium and struggle to push it open quietly as it’s so heavy. It’s pitch black but there’s a scent, a familiar smell that somehow draws me in and I feel my legs walk me in before I get a chance to think it through. The door slams behind me.
Shit.
I turn back to it in the hope that I’ll find it because there’s no way I can see it. Putting my hands out in front of me, I inch forward until I reach the wall and then start to walk along it until I feel the wood of the door. I fumble around until I find the handle and try to turn it but it doesn’t move. Just bloody great, locked in a room. Could it get any more fantastic? I bang my hand on the door and shout out for help. No one’s ever going to hear me over this music so I keep banging in the vague hope that Alex is about somewhere. Unfortunately, after ten minutes my hand begins to hurt and I give up. What the hell am I going to do now? Nice, Beth, just so bloody clever.
I slide down to the ground and sit against the door, gazing into the blackness. The music keeps pounding its disturbing melody, and after a while, I can feel myself rocking to its hypnotic chanting. It somehow seems to be pulling me to my peaceful place but instead of peace, there’s a strange fear rattling through me. The sensation is not pleasant in the slightest and I shiver again as I duck my chin down to my knees and run my fingers along my arms, trying to process the feeling. Then it hits me like a lightning bolt as recognition sets in. The sensation is the same as before, when he was different, when he was detached and brutal, and I suddenly realise he’s in here.
I rapidly search the darkness for him. Nothing. I may not be able to see him but I can sense him now that I’m searching for him so I pull myself to my feet and gingerly step forward into the blackness. I have no idea what we’re doing but I assume this is something he’s introducing me to so I find a spot, blow out a breath and wait with my hands hanging loosely at my sides.
“Alex, I know you’re in here,” I shout over the music. “I can feel you.”
Several minutes later, I wonder if it was a figment of my imagination because nothing has changed. I’m still stood here in the same spot. The music has increased in tempo, which has increased my breathing a little but nothing else is any different, still pitch black, still no movement. Then I hear something to the right of me and I flinch away from it. Nothing else happens. Stupid Beth.
I shake my head at myself and think about heading for the door, then I sense something to the left. I quickly turn toward whatever it is and begin to tremble a bit as my senses turn up to hyper alert mode. My hands instinctively come up in front of my body as I prepare to fight. Given that it’s Alex in here, I don’t know what it is that I think I’m going to do but as something touches my hair behind me, I swing around to face it, hoping to god that it is actually Alex. The faint scent of him drifts across my face and calms me a little but my nerves are now so on edge that I can’t stop the adrenalin running through me, or is it endorphins? What was that he said about the rush of chemicals? I circle around my own body, trying to figure out where he’s coming from next.
“Are you ready to fight me, Elizabeth?” comes growling at me from the depths of the room.
What?
A hand grabs my ankle and yanks me forward, causing me to lose my balance. I splay my hands as I tumble to the ground to break my fall and manage to right myself before I smash into the floor. What the hell is he doing? Realising what’s going on, I kick my shoes off and stand back up. I’m either learning how to fight or this is a very twisted version of his preferences. Either way, I’m not going on my arse again. I rip off Belle’s jacket and take a firm stance
as I try to find him in the darkness again. I still can’t see a thing.
“Better,” he says from somewhere. “You still don’t look like the whore you are but we both know different, don’t we?”
What the hell? I turn around, waiting for another attack from somewhere and try to contain my anger as I throw my hands up in front of me.
“Alex, I don’t know what you’re trying to-”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re a cock teasing whore and you know it.”
I gasp as a hand clutches my throat and throws me sideways without releasing me. My feet tangle with each other and I grab onto his wrist for support. “Fight me,” he whispers quietly as he lets go and disappears again. I regain my balance and rub at my throat. Okay, so he wants a fight, or rather he wants me to fight him. This is definitely my viciousness lesson.
I take a stand again and suck in a breath. I can’t see him so I close my eyes and try to hone my senses to the sound beneath the deafening music. Hands clamp my wrists from behind and I twist from him and spin away as I wrench myself from his hold. He’s on me again, in seconds this time, kicking my leg from beneath me and forcing me to the floor. I shove and kick out with everything I’ve got but he’s too heavy and I can’t budge him. “Money grabbing whore, useless and fucking worthless,” he growls into my ear as he reaches a hand between my legs.
Fury rolls over me at his words and I twist and turn in his grip until I shove him sideways and roll away. His hand grabs at my thigh so I kick him hard with my free leg and stumble away to retreat into a corner. He grunts out a curse and suddenly he’s quiet again. My rage is building to the point of explosion at those words and my body begins to tremble. How fucking dare he? Is this his idea of a bloody lesson?
My eyes narrow at the space around me as I try to find a way to see him. It’s still pitch black, unsurprisingly. The only thing for it is to trust my senses and hope that I can feel him near me as well as I usually can. Being pinned in a corner is probably not the best thing to do so I walk out into the middle of the room again and slow my breathing so that I can at least hear him while I close my eyes. The music abruptly cuts off somehow and I hold my hands up in front of me in the deafening silence. Bring it on, White.
Feeling White Page 36
