Gentleman Sinner

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Gentleman Sinner Page 21

by Jodi Ellen Malpas


  Chapter 18

  I’m not sure what time it is, but Jess and I have now worked our way through two bottles of wine. We’re still propped on our stools, except now we’re facing the club, leaning back on the bar. Theo is still at the table with Callum, Judy, and her husband, and by the looks of things, the meeting has come to an end. He stands, prompting everyone else to rise too, and turns to Callum as Judy and her husband leave the area, headed in our direction. She smiles as she approaches.

  “Izzy,” she says, extending her hand as she nears. I take it and she crowds me, holding one of my cheeks as she tenderly kisses the other. “How are you, my darling?”

  Her concerned tone tells me she knows all about my day. “Jobless,” I reply, trying not to slur.

  She breaks away from me and takes my hand, looking at me with an understanding smile. It irritates me to high heaven. There’s nothing to smile about. And she can’t possibly understand. “He’ll fix it. Don’t you worry.”

  “How?” I ask, truly interested. There’s nothing to be done, apart from rewinding time.

  “Trust me.” She flips me a little wink before turning to Jess. “You must be Jess?”

  “Yes. I love your suit! And your bag. And your shoes,” my friend gushes, smiling brightly. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been helping Izzy—”

  “Get plastered?” Judy finishes, a wry smile on her face. “You’re a good friend.” She takes one of Jess’s hands, too. “Enjoy yourselves, girls. I’m going home now.”

  Judy’s husband joins us, nodding politely but sharply. “Ready?” he asks her.

  “Yes, but first let me introduce you to Theo’s Izzy.” Judy pulls me down off the stool and more or less presents me to him, like she’s showcasing something with pride. “Isn’t she adorable? Izzy, this is my husband, Andy.”

  “Hi.” I hold my hand out. “Nice to meet you, Andy.” I’m sure I hear Judy sigh.

  “Pleasure, Izzy.” Andy smiles warmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “All good, I hope.” I chuckle like a fool, mentally kicking myself. Such a cliché thing to say.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your current predicament,” Andy says, not sounding very sorry at all.

  Oh, great. Does everyone know? I refrain from blurting in my drunkenness that my predicament is the six-foot-five-inch son of his wife. “Thanks,” I say tightly, lifting my drunken bones clumsily back onto my stool.

  “Come on, Judy. I’m starving and I have a dozen reports to file.”

  “Yes, yes,” she pacifies him, taking my cheeks in her palms and squeezing. Her face turns serious, and I find myself sitting back a little, wary of what she’s going to say. “He can’t help it, Izzy. Be patient with him.” She kisses my cheek and then leaves us, not giving me the chance to respond. Not that I would know what to say. Maybe he needs to start helping it before everything goes to shit.

  Jess looks all gooey-eyed, while I’m feeling torn between maintaining my grievance and forgiving Theo for royally fucking up my career.

  “She’s so lovely.” Jess sighs. “So motherly and loving.”

  “Or a lioness,” I muse, imagining Judy turning into quite the formidable one herself should anyone cross her boy, no matter how big, dangerous, and capable of looking after himself he is. Judy lifts her hand in goodbye to Theo and Callum as she goes, and they both nod as an applause erupts. She looks across the club to the stage, and I follow her stare, seeing Penny thrusting her crotch in a patron’s face while his friends cheer her on. Judy’s lip is curled in disdain, and I recoil, interested. Oh, she really doesn’t like her. I barely have time to wonder why before Andy pulls his wife out of the club and I spot Theo and Callum wandering over, people clearing their path vigilantly.

  Jess stiffens next to me. “Oh God, please don’t let me speak. If I try to speak, kick me. I’m drunk. I’ll only say something stupid and look like a twat.”

  The expression of disbelief I aim at her isn’t noticed, because she’s staring down into her glass. “You’ve already made yourself look like a twat when you were sober. At least now you’ll have an excuse.”

  “Shut up. I can’t read him,” she hisses at her wine. “It’s frustrating. Makes me behave out of the ordinary.”

  I snort, most unladylike. “Whatever. He’s coming.”

  “Stop.”

  “He’s looking at you.”

  “I hate you.”

  “With take-me-to-bed eyes.”

  Her head whips up, just as Theo and Callum come to a stop before us. Callum’s eyes aren’t take-me-to-bed eyes at all. They’re more like scrutinizing eyes. “Hi,” Jess squeaks before throwing back more wine.

  Callum watches, waiting until she’s downed the lot. “I’ll take you home,” he says finally, and I grin, looking out the corner of my eye to see her increasing discomfort. I’m not sure what’s wrong with her. Alcohol usually makes her bolder, but she’s almost painfully awkward.

  “Jess.” I nudge her when she makes no attempt to show her face. “Callum is ready to take you home.”

  “Okay.” She slides her glass onto the bar and jumps down, kissing me quickly before grabbing her bag and scurrying away. “Speak tomorrow.”

  Theo’s looking at his friend with a slightly lifted eyebrow, but Callum just shrugs, trudging on his way to catch up with Jess. “Take the rest of the night off,” Theo calls, a wicked smile on his face.

  I fall apart on the bar stool, watching my friend alternate between staggers and determined strides, until Callum is forced to help her out before she veers completely off course and lands in the ladies’. “She’s steaming,” I say with a chuckle, grinning into my glass as I sip.

  Theo appears in my peripheral vision, and I turn toward him with my glass at my lips, finding him leaning against the bar, watching me. And I remember: I’m not talking to him.

  I drop to my drunken feet, then spend a few moments concentrating on finding the stability I need to walk away with my dignity still intact. After a considerable amount of time, I give up and start my zigzagging meander across the club. I don’t need to worry about bumping into anyone. They’re all being rather helpful and moving from my path. “Thank you,” I say politely to one man. “Good night,” I say to another. “Thanks.” I smile at a lady, who grins as she shifts out of my way. I feel more conspicuous than I’d like, everyone obviously concluding I need the space. Either that or they’re worried I might throw up on them.

  As I make it to the door, I take a quick glimpse over my shoulder and find Theo mere feet behind me. I realize, even through the haze of alcohol, that all those helpful people weren’t moving for my benefit at all. They weren’t being helpful. They were being sensible.

  I narrow my eyes on him as he reaches past me and punches in the code. Then he kindly motions for me to lead the way. I push my way through without thanks, letting it close behind me. There are no people in the corridor, but there are walls on both sides of me. I stop and focus forward, blinking my blurry vision clear as best I can. Then I stagger two steps to the right…and bounce. Then two steps to the left…and bounce. I roll my eyes to myself and continue to ping-pong my way toward the office, vaguely hearing a deep, rumbling chuckle from behind.

  “This is your fault,” I mutter. He doesn’t speak. Probably can’t from laughing too much. Wrestling with the door, I finally get it open and let myself in, turning and finding his laughing eyes before I slam it in his face. Then I bounce off every piece of furniture in the workspace before I make it to the other door. I resort to closing one eye to zero in on the handle, eventually finding it and performing the same childish actions as before. I turn and scowl at Theo, then slam the door in his face.

  The never-ending corridor that leads back to his house sees me ricocheting off the walls all the way. By the time I make it to the end, the room is spinning, and I don’t have the energy to be spiteful and slam any more doors in his face, so I stumble to the stairs and whimper when the stripes of the carpet become a wavy m
ess, making me sway on the spot. I’ll never make it.

  But I don’t have to. My feet are swiped from beneath me and I’m suddenly floating. Theo doesn’t breathe a word of scorn, nor does he make fun of me. And like it’s ingrained in me, I don’t move a muscle now that he has me in his hold. He carries me up the horrid stairs and into his bedroom, laying me on the bed gently. And he strips me down, patiently and calmly as I drunkenly writhe atop the covers, just wanting to crawl under the sheets and say goodbye to today. When his hands are gone from my body, I snuggle down and exhale.

  And a few moments later, I vaguely feel his fingertips trace across my tummy. “What happened to you, baby?” he whispers, placing his lips on my forehead.

  “You really don’t want to know,” I slur, raising my arm into the air. He sighs, taking my wrist and laying it somewhere on his body. His chest, I think.

  I sigh and drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 19

  My head is throbbing as I sheepishly peek out of Theo’s bedroom door, listening for any sounds of life. I’m wearing the massive, luxuriously soft bathrobe that was left on the end of the bed for me, the oversize garment skimming my ankles as I wander through his private quarters in search of my bag. It’s nowhere to be seen, but the faint ringing of my phone from within is sounding from somewhere.

  As I’m scanning the lounge, Jefferson wanders in, looking amused as he holds up my bag. His old eyes are shining behind his round spectacles, his silver hair as neat as always. “Miss White,” he says, taking in my disheveled form.

  Embarrassed, I try to quickly give my tangled waves a finger comb. “Morning, Jefferson.” I reach for my bag, but my phone stops ringing before I have a chance to search it out. “Is Theo still here?” I have no idea what time it is, but I could do with a few more hours of sleep. My head hurts. A lot.

  “He’s waiting for you in the dining room.” He moves to the huge fireplace and collects an empty tumbler from the mantel. I imagine Theo standing there last night having a needed drink as he stared into the fire while I was snoring in his bed. “I’ll walk down with you.”

  “Now?” I blurt, looking down at my less-than-presentable form.

  “He insisted.” Jefferson makes for the door, not looking back to check if I’m coming.

  “Because one would be unwise to say no to Mr. Kane.” I sigh, taking my phone from my bag and following Theo’s butler. Not a word is spoken between us on the way down, and after Jefferson has walked me to the doors that lead into the dining room and I’ve smiled my thanks, he leaves me to gather some strength to enter.

  A minute later, I’m still trying to find that strength. “Izzy?” Judy’s voice is a welcome distraction from my annoying battle to open the door, and I turn to find her watching me from across the hall. “You okay?” she asks, smiling as she takes in the dressing gown I’m wrapped in. Theo’s dressing gown.

  “Yes.” I smile, thumbing over my shoulder. “Theo is having breakfast.” Memories of last night, of her constant reassurance that he will solve the problem he’s created, all come trickling back. How? How will he solve it?

  “Are you going to join him or stand there all day staring at the door?”

  “I’m—” I’m cut off when a door slams across the way, and we both look to see Penny leaving Theo’s office. She looks as sexy as ever, despite being quite formally dressed.

  “Oh, hi,” she says, frowning at my attire. I feel my cheeks heating, my hands pulling at the sides of the robe. I might be embarrassed, but I can still sense the change in atmosphere. Judy’s shoulders visibly rise.

  “Made yourself at home, I see,” Theo’s mother snipes, tossing Penny a filthy look.

  I recoil on Penny’s behalf, but Penny just rolls her eyes and gets on her way. “See you, Izzy,” she calls, disappearing through the door to the Playground.

  Judy scoffs and returns her attention to me, practically spitting nails. “Tart,” she mutters.

  Ouch. “You don’t like her?”

  “Not particularly, and I dislike the fact that Theo has given her somewhere to live even more.”

  “She’s living here?” I ask, surprised.

  “Hopefully not for long.” Judy approaches me and faffs with my robe, forcing a smile onto her face. “Have you and Theo made up?”

  “I was just—”

  “Have patience,” she says, reaching for the door and pushing it open, encouraging me in. “He’s trying so hard, Izzy.”

  I deflate, thinking it a waste of time to argue with his mother, and enter the dining room to face Theo. I look down the length of the long table, finding him at the end, a newspaper in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. I can only see his top half, but I note he’s casual today, wearing a simple black crew-neck T-shirt. His hair is a damp mess, his stubble bristlier than usual.

  He looks…completely and utterly breathtaking.

  I stand awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the tie of the robe while he slowly places his cup down blindly, watching me.

  “Morning.” He eventually breaks the silence with his rough but soft greeting.

  “Morning,” I parrot, my mouth beginning to water when I catch a whiff of freshly brewed coffee. The atmosphere is difficult, neither of us forthcoming with conversation, and I think about Theo’s mother telling me to be patient. Easier said than done when you’re dealing with such complexity.

  A loud sigh travels down the table toward me and Theo drops his paper. “Please, Izzy, come and sit with me.” He pulls out the chair next to him.

  It’s not only Theo’s request that kicks my legs into action, it’s the aroma of that coffee. I settle on the chair and nod when he holds up the coffeepot. “Where did you sleep last night?” I ask while he pours. There were no signs that he’d joined me in bed. The covers on the other side were untouched, and I couldn’t smell him on the sheets. The thought of the state of me and Theo looking at my drunken, unconscious being in his bed makes me shrink in my chair as I bring my coffee cup to my lips.

  “I didn’t sleep.” He sits back, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the table.

  “At all?”

  “At all,” he confirms, and we fall silent again, the tension building between us. There’s obviously lots both of us want to say, but neither he nor I seems willing to lead.

  So I natter pointlessly some more, just to fill the uncomfortable silence. “You must be tired.”

  “I was thinking,” he says, ignoring my statement.

  I nibble at the inside of my mouth as Theo regards me closely. “Do I want to know what about?” I ask, my apprehension obvious.

  He smiles a little, turning his hand over on the table. Naturally, I place mine in his, and he brings my knuckles to his mouth and rests his lips there. “I’ve been thinking about how I can make it up to you.”

  “By getting me my job back,” I say, though my statement is lacking the curtness I intended. Probably a result of my tiredness and rotten hangover. “But I can’t see that happening after you caused anarchy. The police were already involved. Now I imagine the NHS will be pressing charges, as well as Sugden.”

  He rests his elbows on the table, now holding my hand in both of his. “There are many things I can influence, Izzy.”

  My mind goes off on a tangent, trying to decipher what he means by influence. It takes only a few seconds of considering, even with a fuzzy head. I reflect back to last night—to Judy telling me that Theo would fix things. Theo was with Andy, Judy’s husband. He works for the police. He knew about my predicament, and I’m guessing he knows every other detail of the whole horrid situation. The lightbulb in my head pings on. “The police won’t be contacting me for a statement, will they?”

  He keeps me in place with serious eyes, shaking his head a little.

  So I go on, everything clear. “There will be no charges pressed against you, either, will there? Not by Sugden, Susan, or the hospital security staff.”

  Theo shakes his head again.

  I flex my f
ingers until he releases my hand, sitting back in my chair. He’s done some terrible things. He told me so himself. But he’s never been in jail. “Why are you not worried about the police?”

  “Because they can’t touch me.”

  I breathe in. “Why?”

  “I deliver them lowlife scumbags like the bastard who attacked you and Penny in that alley the night I found you. He was wanted for dealing.”

  “And in return, they won’t touch you?”

  “Correct.”

  “So you keep them sweet?”

  “It isn’t just for my benefit. I’m taking dangerous men off the streets.”

  “You’re dangerous,” I point out.

  “Are you scared of me?”

  My jaw naturally tightens. “No.”

  “Case in point.”

  I gawk at him. “How the hell is it case in point, Theo? I’m one of the only lunatics who isn’t scared of you.”

  “And that’s all that matters to me,” he replies evenly, like that really is the end of it. “Your job is still yours, Izzy.”

  I stare at him in utter disbelief. Just like that? But even if all of this disappears, I could never return to work. “Don’t you see, Theo?” I ask, fighting to keep my arse on the chair instead of getting up and storming off. “If I go back to my job, do you think things will be easy for me? Susan might have been forced or intimidated into dropping her complaint, but I won’t be able to pretend it never happened, any more than she will be able to. The atmosphere will be unbearable.” I swallow down my anger, fighting to maintain a calm tone. “You think you can use your power of persuasion and your connections to the police to make all this go away? It’s not that simple, Theo.” There’s a very faint line on his forehead, evidence of a frown he’s trying to hold back. It only confirms my fear. He really did think it’s that simple. That I could dance back into work like nothing happened.

  “It sounds simple to me,” he argues, looking slighted, confirming my thoughts.

  “Well, it’s not.” I stand abruptly, and he looks up at me in shock. I think he actually expected me to fall to my knees in gratitude. Kiss his feet and reward him for getting me back the job that he lost. The man is insane. “Your skin might be thick and impenetrable, Theo, but mine is not. I care what people think. I care that the people I respect and value as friends think my boyfriend is a fucking maniac.” I breathe in deeply as Theo sits back in his chair, quiet and accepting of my outburst. “I care that people look at you and think that you’re a bully and probably keep me in my place with your iron fist. Maybe literally.” I just catch him wincing as I turn and walk away from him, the anger that was clogging up my throat now turning into emotion, the tears building, the despair becoming too much to shoulder.

 

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