Mr. Knightsbridge

by Louise Bay

  She looked completely cute. I was relieved she’d gone to some effort and not bunged on a suit and said she was a CIA agent or something. Gabriel would appreciate her commitment. All the boys would.

  “You look phenomenal,” I replied, kissing her on her forehead. No one would be dressed like her.

  “You’re sure you don’t wish I’d come as Princess Leia in the gold bikini?” she asked, looking up at me.

  I’d be lying if I confessed that the image she’d conjured up wasn’t appealing. “Was that an option? Do you have the bikini back at your place?” I asked. “We could have our own private party later if you insist.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So predictable. But this,” she said, pulling away and sweeping an arm down her soft, crimson body, “is as sexy as you can handle.”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward Gabriel’s drive. “If we stay here in the dark a moment longer, I’ll have you unzipped and naked in the back of the Sentinel.”

  “If I’m completely honest, I’m not feeling hugely sexy,” she said, holding on to her hat as we crossed the road.

  “My jumpsuit is chafing if it makes you feel any better.”

  “It does. It’s good to know it’s not just women who suffer for their fashion choices. I’m a fire hazard most of the time given the materials in my clothes.”

  “Well, at least tonight, no one will miss you in a fire.”

  I knocked on the door and went in. The hallway led into the open-plan kitchen area where Gabriel and his daughter spent most of their time. The glass doors into the garden had been opened and the party had spilled out onto the patio.

  I didn’t see anyone I knew. Probably due to the fact that we were all dressed up and pretending to be someone else. Then Stella, in a gold helmet and blue cloak, came toward us, her gaze pinned on Hollie.

  “Hey!” she said, brandishing a spear. “You must be Hollie. I fucking love your outfit. Just my type of girl. I thought you might turn up in a Princess Leia bikini and I’d have had to take off your head,” she said, wiggling her spear.

  “What the fuck is with the spear?” I asked, kissing her on both cheeks.

  “I’m Boudica, you walking cliché. You know that film is full of homoerotic imagery?” she asked.

  “I like fast planes and good-looking guys,” I replied. “Shoot me.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” Hollie said, laughing.

  “He is,” Stella said, grinning as if she finally had a partner in crime. “I’m so pleased I don’t have to break it to you. Come and get a drink. You have to see what Beck has come as. He’s even more ridiculous. The testosterone is exhausting. Gabriel’s the only normal friend they have.”

  Hollie looked at me and smiled, her blue hat wobbling to one side. “Thank you,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure what she meant, and I didn’t have time to ask her before we found Tristan, Gabriel and Beck. I couldn’t help but laugh at how predictable Tristan’s outfit was. “Han Solo?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’m hoping there’ll be a few women here dressed as Leia. You know,” he said, making a cupping gesture in front of him. “In the bikini.”

  “You know I’m carrying a spear,” Stella said. “And you’re just asking to have me target your balls.”

  Tristan just shrugged.

  I turned to Gabriel. “Happy birthday.” I looked him up and down. “Did you two come as a couple?” I asked, taking in his Darth Vader costume. The five-year-old in me was dying to know if the mask pushed to the top of his head did the voice.

  “No. And I have to say, I think Han Solo is a weak costume. It’s too conventional. Tristan’s basically rummaged at the back of his wardrobe and found what he wore to university and picked up a plastic gun. Unlike me. Or you.” He held his hand out to Hollie. “I’m Darth,” he said.

  “Thing 1. Happy birthday,” she said. They shook hands as if this was any old introduction in the pub.

  “Very good,” he said. “I read Dr. Seuss to my daughter. She’s three so I’m not sure she appreciates all the nuances, but I do.”

  “How’s it going?” I asked. It was his first birthday since his wife had left.

  He nodded and took a large swig of wine. I didn’t press him. It was his birthday, and I was sure he didn’t want to get into it.

  “Why are you so pissed off at Beck?” I asked Stella, taking in Beck’s Hulk costume.

  “I’m just irritated. He’s greener than I ordinarily like a man. I wanted him to come as Batman,” she said. “That’s a manly costume. And much less green.”

  “Yeah but too Vader-y,” he said, indicating Gabriel’s billowing cloak.

  “It was thoughtful not to upstage the host,” Hollie muttered beside me.

  Stella leaned toward us both. “I know. It’s very sweet that he didn’t want to overshadow Gabriel, but I’m hoping he’s going to put on the costume I got him when we get home so I’m pretending to sulk.”

  Hollie laughed and her blue hair fell off, revealing her own dark tendrils. “Oh, this thing is so hard to keep on,” she said. “Where’s your restroom? I’ll go reattach it. I have some bobby pins with me.”

  Gabriel pointed over to the door by the stairs. I tried to catch Hollie’s eye to see if she wanted me to go with her, but she’d already turned to go. She’d been so adamant she didn’t want me going into the party before her, I wasn’t sure if she was okay to be on her own. “You think I should go?” I asked Stella.

  She frowned. “No. She would have asked you to help her with her hat if she hadn’t wanted to go by herself.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, hadn’t thought of that.”

  “But it’s very sweet that you’re considering her feelings. You’re very . . . touchy with each other,” she said.

  “We’re not,” I said. Yes, I was holding her hand when we came in, and perhaps I’d given her a reassuring back stroke. But I wanted Hollie to feel comfortable. And it was rare for there to be so many people surrounding us. I just wanted her to know that I was . . . here. “No more than you and Beck.”

  “Yeah, Beck and I are very touchy. It’s not a criticism. It’s nice to see you like that with a woman.”

  I was about to defend myself and say how it was no different from any other girlfriend, but there was no point. I’d never had the same desire to touch a woman every moment the way I did with Hollie, and although I’d not thought about it consciously before, no doubt that was obvious from someone like Stella’s point of view.

  “But you know the thing that makes me sure she’s a winner?” Stella asked.

  “Go on,” I said, making clear from my tone that I didn’t want to know.

  “Her costume.”

  I laughed. “You think Hollie is my perfect match because she’s dressed as a Dr. Seuss character?”

  “Absolutely. She could have come as Wonder Woman or Catgirl. Or Princess Leia in that bloody gold bikini. But she came in a onesie. I like the lack of vanity. She’d be completely entitled to come as some super-sexy character, but I like that she didn’t. It proves there’s more to her than the pretty face. She’s quirky.”

  “She’s not that quirky,” I said defensively. I didn’t want Stella to think Hollie was some kind of novelty. “She’s just . . .”

  I couldn’t find the right word because Hollie deserved more than a throwaway phrase to describe her. She was more interesting than that.

  “You like her.”

  “Of course I like her or I wouldn’t be hanging out with her.” I could feel myself falling into the same old argument I had with all my friends—how yes, she was a nice girl but how she wasn’t Bridget. Only this time, I stopped myself. “But yes, I really like her.”

  Beck interrupted us. “What are you two gossiping about? Hollie? I like her outfit. Thank God she didn’t wear that Princess Leia bikini or you would be competing with Tristan.”

  Women who flirted with my friends to get my attention didn’t last long. “No, I don’t think I would,” I said. “Hollie’s not
like that.”

  I didn’t miss the nudge Stella gave Beck. It was to be expected, I guessed. I liked Hollie a lot, and it was only in the context of the outside world that it was so obvious.

  “I like her outfit,” Beck said. “Shows she’s a woman with her own mind.”

  “That’s what I said,” Stella replied.

  And that was what Hollie was for me—unlike anyone else I’d ever met. She was just . . . Hollie.

  Twenty

  Hollie

  “Today is Friday,” Dexter announced from where he was lying in his bed, watching me scrabble about, collecting bits of clothing from where they were strewn last night.

  “Honestly, Dexter, I think we need to get you in for some lab tests. You’re beyond smart,” I replied. “What other nuggets of wisdom do you have? Grass is green? I’m American?”

  I glanced up to find him grinning at me.

  “I really like you,” he said, sliding one hand behind his head. The sheets shifted to reveal more of that hard torso that felt so very, very good under my hands. Darn, he was distracting.

  “I’m naturally very charming,” I replied, trying to stay focused.

  “And now, you’re picking up all your stuff so you can go back to your place after work before turning right back around and coming here tonight. Just like you did yesterday, and the day before. Only today is Friday.”

  I was going to be late if I didn’t get a move on. “Do you have a point or are you just running through what my day is going to look like? My boss is a real asshole, and if I’m late, there’s no telling what he might do.”

  “I’m serious, Hollie,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and padding into the bathroom. He was acting like he made any kind of sense. “What’s the point in you going home every morning? Like now, for example. Why don’t you have a shower here? If you don’t want to drive into work with me, fine, but there’s no point in leaving at six just so you can shower on the other side of town. It’s crazy.”

  He was right. Getting up this early wasn’t doing anything for the bags underneath my eyes. “Okay, so maybe I’ll bring an overnight bag sometimes.” If I went by tube and Dexter drove, there was no way anyone would ever know about us. Dexter was true to his word, keeping our interactions professional at the office. No one had the slightest clue—if some of the mundane tasks I was given were anything to go by.

  “Yeah that’s one option,” he said as he swept past me and grabbed his toothbrush.

  I couldn’t stay today. I didn’t have any clothes here, and I wasn’t about to wear the same outfit as I wore yesterday. “Okay, well, we can talk about it again later.” There was never any discussion about whether or not I was going to come over. Only what time and what we were going to do. Sometimes it was easy to forget that a couple of months ago, we’d never met.

  “Things are going to get busier and busier in the office,” he said before brushing his teeth.

  I pushed my wallet into my purse and paused. What was he trying to say? Was he giving me the brush-off? I’d heard my girlfriends complain about this excuse men made when they wanted to end things but were too scared to actually say the words. Oh, I’m going to be away for most of August, or, my car is getting fixed up in the next couple of weeks and I won’t be able to come over. Well if that was Dexter’s game, I was going to make him say the words.

  “Spit it out, Dexter. What are you trying to say?”

  On cue he spat his toothpaste, rinsed his mouth and turned to me. “I think we should go over to your place tomorrow and collect all your stuff and bring it back here. I want you to stay with me.”

  I stared at him, my brain trying to work through what he’d just said. I took a deep breath, trying to even out my whiplash. I didn’t know why I’d just jumped to the conclusion he might be trying to end things when there hadn’t been any signs. I supposed I was just used to disappointment. But move in here? That seemed like a lot, but the corners of my mouth were twitching as if I was about to break into a grin. “All of it?” was all I could come up with at first.

  “Sure. You came over from the US. It’s not like you have a lot.” He froze. “Right?”

  I shrugged. “As much as I could fit in two suitcases.”

  “Exactly. So, we could go and get it,” he said again. “You spend almost all of your free time here anyway. And as we get closer to the finals, there will be less time to spend together. We should make the most of it.”

  It made sense, but at the same time, this was more than practicality. This guy was asking me to move in with him, even if it was only for a few weeks. “Isn’t this a big decision? Don’t we have to discuss it and come up with pros and cons, and shouldn’t I ask you questions or something?” My logical brain told me this was fast and reckless. I would be putting my faith in this guy to keep a roof over my head—not something I could even trust my parents to do for me when I was a child. So why wasn’t I freaking out and telling him no?

  Dexter turned on the shower, slid out of his boxers and stepped in, the steam quickly obstructing my view of his perfect body. “Well we could analyze it to death or we could simply see it as convenient. If you decide to stay in London, then we can have another discussion.”

  Stay in London? Now the elevator of anxiety started to clunk into gear and hurtle skywards. That wasn’t even on my radar. “Who said anything about staying in London?”

  “Well, aren’t you applying for jobs?”

  Should I have been? My palms started to sweat and I wrestled off my cardigan. I’d assumed I’d go back to Oregon when this was all over, go to my sister’s graduation and polish up my resume before starting to apply for things. “I haven’t so far.”

  “You want me to see if Primrose knows anyone who might have a vacancy?”

  This morning I’d expected to collect my things and haul my butt over to the other side of town just like I did every morning, but instead, I’d woken up on the freaking yellow brick road. “Just hold your white horses, there,” I replied. “A fast second ago we were talking about bringing my two suitcases over this weekend and now you have me immigrating to London. We might want to slow down a second because I’m starting to feel the pull of the g-force.”

  He pushed the soap and water back over his head. My mind went entirely blank for a split second as I imagined stripping naked and joining him. That would cool me off, stop me thinking too far ahead. I turned away, intent on clearing my head.

  I loved London. There was no doubt about that. It felt like this city was the world and Oregon had been some kind of waiting room. I knew it would be difficult to go back when now my eyes had been opened to what was out here in the world. But while my sister was still in Oregon, that was home. “I appreciate that you’re thinking of me,” I replied, turning back toward Dexter but keeping my gaze trained on the floor. “But there are a lot of things I need to consider. You know Autumn hasn’t graduated yet. She needs me.”

  “She’s a grown woman. Surely she wants you to live your life,” he said.

  “You don’t understand,” I replied. “I’ve always looked after her.”

  “No, you’re right. I don’t understand. My brother couldn’t wait to disappoint me.”

  I hated hearing him talk about his brother, because he was still so obviously upset about it. I just didn’t understand why David hadn’t protected him from Sparkle, hadn’t fought for the family business. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I didn’t have Autumn. Were you and your brother close before your parents died?”

  “Very. The four of us were . . . unbreakable.”

  I couldn’t imagine it was possible for the bond between Autumn and I to be broken. Devastated wouldn’t even begin to describe my feelings if we were suddenly estranged. “And you haven’t spoken since your parents died?”

  “Since after I found out what he’d done.” He stood directly under the water as if he were trying to wash away the memories.

  “It’s un
thinkable to me that he did that even though he knew it would have been the last thing your parents wanted and you were so set against it.” I would do anything to make my sister happy. Perhaps it was because I saw my parents fail to make sacrifices for either of us, but I just wanted her to have what I never did—someone who would put me first.

  “The difference is you’re a good person, Hollie.”

  “But you would have said the same thing about your brother,” I replied. There must have been a reason for David to do what he did, but Dexter clearly didn’t think so. “What changed?”

  He yanked the lever to turn off the shower and his mood shifted. “So, you moving in or what?” he asked, obviously not wanting to dwell on his broken relationship with his brother. “If you think it’s too much then it’s not a big deal. We can keep things as they are.”

  I liked things as they were. A lot. I liked Dexter a lot. I glanced around his bedroom. I only went back to my studio to shower and change these days. It was two hundred and twenty square feet I wouldn’t miss. “You’d have to clear out some closet space,” I said as Dexter stepped out of the shower, completely naked. “And you’re going to have to keep away from me in the morning when you’re naked.”

  He tilted his head. “Can’t resist me, huh?” He grinned, wrapped a towel around his waist and swept past me. “Follow me.”

  I glanced at the clock on my watch. I was going to have to get moving or I was going to be really late. And I needed time away from Dexter so I could think clearly. “Can this wait?” I said, padding after him. “I really have to get out of here.”

  I followed him into one of his guest rooms. “So, this wardrobe is totally free. But I put some of my old suits into the other bedroom so there’s a couple of rails in the master as well. Up to you how you want to distribute stuff.”

  He must know that everything I owned would fit in half of one of the units in his closet, but it was super sweet of him not to banish me to the guest room. He really wanted me here. And I wanted to be here. What was there to analyze? Dexter had done nothing that deserved anything but my complete trust.