Big Bad Twins

by Tia Siren

  ''No mom. He was horrible. I thought we were going to get married, at least, he led me to believe we were. Then I found him.......well, you know what happened.''

  ''Yes. Men do that kind of thing. None of them are ever faithful.''

  ''Do you mean dad's been unfaithful to you?'' Amber asked not really wanting to know the answer.

  ''Oh yes. Countless times.''

  ''Oh,'' Amber said. This was the first time she'd learned her parents’ marriage wasn't all she'd thought it to be. ''That's horrible for you.''

  June laughed. ''Not at all. If he can do it, so can I.''

  Glenda arrived with the tea and put it down on the antique coffee table in front of the sofa they were sitting on.

  ''Do you mean you have had affairs as well?''

  ''As many as your father, if not more.''

  Amber had had the worst year of her life. A student at Yale, she'd met what she thought was Mr. Perfect. He was so handsome when he'd asked her out she'd said yes straight away. He was from an aristocratic family of lawyers, and at first, he'd seemed the perfect gentleman. After a few months, he started to become possessive and jealous. She'd thought it was just a phase, but it got worse. So bad in fact, he'd tied her to the bed one day and not let her go out at all. A week later she'd found him lying naked between the open legs of Penelope, his sisters best friend.

  ''You shouldn't worry when a man cheats on you. It's perfectly normal. They are all wired to their cocks, and there's not a darn thing any of them can do about it,'' June said.

  Amber was about to protest when the front door opened. ''Daddy, hi,'' she said standing up and hugging him. ''You look tired, is everything alright?''

  ''All the better for seeing you. You haven't been home for months.''

  ''Well, I'm here now.''

  ''And I'm very glad you are. June ring for Glenda, I need a drink, it's been a hell of a day,'' he said loosening his tie and slumping into his armchair. ''Why the hell I chose to get into the stress of Wall Street, I'll never know. I should have been an artist, sitting by a lake painting birds.''

  ''You're a good painter daddy. Why don't you pack it all in and do that?''

  Roger looked at his daughter. She was his precious Amber. He would do anything for her, and he'd hated finding out she'd been so upset about her last boyfriend. She was too beautiful to be treated so badly. He loved the fact she was as tall as him and was so proud to have such a beautiful daughter.

  ''Your hair is so shiny, how do you get it like that?'' he asked.

  ''Healthy living I suppose. After I split with Marco, I almost died it pink.''

  ''Don't you ever change it. You're a beautiful brunette, and it matches your hazel eyes,'' her mother interjected.

  Glenda arrived with a bottle of Scottish whiskey. Roger took it from her and poured himself a drink.

  ''Do you want one?'' he asked Amber. She shook her head.

  ''Well don't ask me whether I want one will you?'' June complained.

  He poured his wife a drink and gave it to her. ''Amber you're okay for London mid-January, Joe confirmed it this afternoon. He apologized for leaving it so late, but he'd love to have you on board.''

  June looked quizzically at them. ''What are you two cooking up?''

  ''My work placement, part of my degree. Dad asked Joe if he had a place for me in his PR firm in London for six months.''

  ''I might as well live on the moon. Nobody tells me anything.'' June said taking a larger than advised mouthful of whiskey. Amber patted her on the back as she coughed it back up.

  ''It's a great opportunity for you,'' Roger said. ''Joe's a really sharp businessman and if you pay attention, you will learn a lot. And it'll be a great opportunity for you to see London.''

  ''Thanks for arranging it daddy. It'll be great.

  *****

  Amber's hair blew horizontally in the storm as she got into the car. ''Wow Uncle Joe. A stormy welcome to England,'' she said pulling her seat-belt across her chest.

  ''You have to pity the English, it's either as windy as hell, or raining. Call me Joe; I think you're a bit big to be calling me Uncle Joe, don't you?'' Joe put Amber's case in the trunk and squeezed his long legs under the steering wheel of his beloved Bugatti.

  ''I guess so. Where are we going now?''

  ''I'm taking you to your apartment and then for dinner with Alison and me, and tomorrow I'll come and take you to work. There's a lot to do in the next few weeks. We've got some exciting stuff coming up.''

  ''Great,'' Amber said as she ducked down behind the dash.

  ''What's the matter?''

  ''Sorry. It's the traffic; it's on the wrong side, and I thought we were going to hit that car.''

  Joe laughed. Welcome to England, they like to do things differently here.''

  Amber hadn't seen Joe for a long time, not since she was about thirteen. She remembered him as a dashing young man, tall and dark skinned with whiter than white teeth and a love of cigars and fast cars. He'd gone to university with her father and moved to England to open up a Trans-Atlantic PR agency. Since then, the agency had expanded and now had clients from all over the world.

  They drove to an apartment block in Knightsbridge, one of London's most affluent areas. Amber couldn't believe how luxurious her apartment was.

  ''Are you sure Joe? This place must be worth a fortune, I'm sure you could get loads of cash by renting it out,'' Amber said. She was standing in the middle of a huge lounge that overlooked Kensington Park. She loved the highly polished antique parquet and the sash windows.

  ''I'll rent it out after you've gone back to the States. For now, I hope you enjoy it. I promised your father I'd look after you.''

  ''Well thanks, it's beautiful.'' Amber wandered into the bedroom and noticed that the bed was already made. She looked in the en-suite bathroom and imagined herself soaking in the huge bath after a hard day's work.''

  Amber was more than pleased Joe had thought about her welfare. She'd been expecting to stay in some grotty student apartment, the sort of place she'd become accustomed to over the last four years while at Yale.

  On the way to Joe's apartment in Belgravia, Amber closed her eyes, at least, three times and waited for the worst to happen. As her heart pounded, she told herself to darn well get used to the traffic because she was making a fool of herself.

  Amber remembered Alison as being tall and slender, and the most elegant of her parents’ female friends. When Alison opened the door, Amber thought she was even more glamorous than she remembered.

  ''Amber, hi. It's so nice to see you. Wow, you've grown into a really pretty young lady.''

  ''Thanks. Great to see you, Alison.''

  ''Drink?'' Joe asked when they reached the lounge. Alison sat down next to Amber and crossed her shapely legs.

  ''Yes please darling. Amber?''

  ''I think I will, it's been a long journey.''

  ''We're very pleased your here,'' Joe said. Alison patted Amber's hand and clutched it to her.

  Alison and Joe made Amber feel at home, and she began to really look forward to her stay in England. She'd learned so much about the tiny islands and was eager to find out more.

  Amber had to scramble the next morning to be ready on time. She'd slept incredibly well and pressed snooze more times than she cared to remember. Eventually, though, there were only thirty minutes left before Joe was to pick her up.

  Joe's eyes opened wider than usual when he saw Amber in her business suit. She wore a skirt just above the knee, and a matching jacket with an elegant white blouse. He looked at her never ending legs and began to think vulgar thoughts.

  The office was a collection of rooms in a very smart building in Piccadilly. Joe handed Amber over to a young woman called Josephine, a leggy blonde with a thick northern accent.

  ''Josephine graduated from Cambridge last year. She works with one of our most important clients, Rushmore United, England's premier soccer team,'' Joe said. Amber was pleased to see Josephine give her a welcoming s
mile. From that moment, she knew they would get on well. ''By the way, they call soccer, football here. So please refer to it as football or they'll think you're a stupid yank,'' Joe said. He strode to the door and left the two ladies to get on with it.

  ''Hi Amber, it's nice to meet you. You've started on just the right day. This evening we're going to a party.''

  ''Oh, perhaps I should have worn a dress,'' Amber said.

  ''Don't worry, we'll get you kitted out this afternoon. I thought we could spend the morning chatting about what we do here, and perhaps nip out for a coffee and get to know each other.''

  ''Sound's great. You know, I think I'm really going to enjoy myself here. Everyone has made me feel so welcome.''

  Amber learned that Joe's company had a contract to do all the PR work for Rushmore United. Josephine was the key account manager, and Amber was to be her assistant. Over coffee in a small cafe, in a side street just off Piccadilly Circus, Josephine explained about the function they were going to attend that evening.

  ''It's the fiftieth anniversary of Rushmore winning their first European Cup, and tonight there will be a reception and a dinner for ex-players, current players, management, and some carefully selected members of the press.''

  ''Sounds interesting, but I don't know anything about soccer, sorry football.''

  ''You don't have to. It's your first day, just shadow me. Be careful, though, there are some super hot players on their team,'' Josephine said with a grin. ''One, in particular, Rod Stevens. I'd jump in front of a train if he told me to.''

  Amber raised her eyebrows and grinned. She liked Josephine; she was down to earth and honest. In PR, she'd expected some more bitchy type.

  *****

  The Grosvenor Hotel was used to hosting events of this nature, and everything was in place by the time Josephine and Amber arrived. There were a lot of paparazzi outside waiting to snap photos of players past and present.

  ''Danny, hold on. Danny look this way please,'' the photographers shouted as Danny got out of the team bus. He squinted, the lights piercing the darkness and lighting up his face in flashes of brilliant white light.

  ''Sods nearly blinded me,'' Danny said to Rod as they walked into the hotel.

  ''You shouldn't be such a good looking guy then should you?'' Rod quipped. ''Ah, here's Josephine,'' he added a hint of lust in his voice.

  ''Tell you what mate, I bet you a grand you can't get her into bed tonight,'' Danny said.

  Rod flashed Danny a look of disdain. ''Do you think I'm a complete imbecile? Of course, I'll get her into bed, piece of cake, you might as well give me a grand now.''

  ''No. You know the deal. Knickers first, money afterward, okay?''

  ''Okay. Knickers at breakfast,'' Rod said.

  The two players each took a glass of orange juice and wandered over to Josephine. ''Hello Rod,'' Josephine said a slight hint of a blush coming over her cheeks. ''This is Amber, she's here to help me out.''

  ''Hi Rod, nice to meet you,'' Amber said.

  ''An American, great,'' Danny exclaimed.

  ''This is Danny Constance, he plays for England,'' Josephine said.

  It wasn't often men were much taller than Amber, but he was. Her initial impression of him was that he looked like a cheeky boy, lost in the big world. ''Hi Danny, nice to meet you.''

  Danny looked into her eyes as he shook her hand, and then down to her breasts which were beautifully encased in the black dress she had bought that afternoon. Amber noticed what he was looking at and strangely quite liked the attention.

  ''Where are you from in the States?'' Danny asked.

  ''New York. Have you ever been there?''

  Danny looked down at his patent leather shoes and shook his head. ''No. I hope to go one day, though. Manhattan looks so unbelievable; we haven't got anything like that here.''

  ''Manhattan is just a jungle of concrete. There are many nice things to see in the US. We have beautiful nature.''

  ''I've heard of the Grand Canyon,'' Danny said.

  ''Do you know, I've never been there.''

  ''I expect one day when my career comes to and end I'll go to play in the states. I'll take you there. How about a helicopter ride?''

  Amber laughed at his cheeky proposal. ''I'd love to.''

  ''I thought Americans were supposed to be loud and brash, but you're not. You're.....''

  ''What?'' she asked impatiently.

  ''You're refined, graceful. You're beautiful.'' Amber's faced turned fiery red. ''And you blush easily,'' he added with a grin.

  Amber shuffled from one foot to the other. ''You're a very handsome man, and I'm not used to receiving such heartfelt compliments.''

  ''There are plenty more where that came from. I'm a cheeky Londoner; we say what we think, and I think you're as fit as hell.''

  ''Fit?'' she asked.

  ''In England, we say a girl is fit when we mean she's beautiful.''

  ''Oh. I thought you were referring to my athletic prowess,'' Amber said as she looked deep into his eyes. She began to play with her hair and stepped a little closer to him.

  ''I'm sure you're very athletic when you need to be,'' he said, pushing the conversation the direction he wanted it to go.

  ''Stop or you'll make me blush again.''

  A bell rang, and people began to leave the reception area and head into the dining room. ''Bloody bell. I was just beginning to enjoy myself,'' Danny said. ''Oh well, I suppose I'd better go.''

  ''I suppose you should,'' she said equally as disappointed that the conversation was coming to an end.

  ''Come on Danny,'' Rod said pulling his arm.

  ''See you after dinner?'' Danny asked.

  ''I'd like that,'' Amber replied.

  Dinner was a long drawn out affair. There were speeches by old players who re-lived the match all those years ago. Danny listened with interest for as long as he could, but soon his thoughts were with the leggy American. He looked for her but didn't see her. He craned his neck and looked to the back of the room. She was sitting with Josephine on the last table next to the door. She saw him looking and waved; he acknowledged her wave with a movement of his head.

  ''He's fit isn't he?'' Josephine said.

  ''Fit? Ah yes. He's very fit.''

  ''He likes you, I can see. Do you know how rich these young guys are?''

  ''No idea.''

  ''Two hundred and fifty grand a week, pounds not dollars. That's a million a month sterling, so in your money about one point seven million dollars a month.''

  ''That's ridiculous. For kicking a ball?'' Amber said in amazement.

  ''It's a bit obscene if you think about it. A fireman only gets twenty-five grand a year. That puts it into perspective.'' Josephine took a gulp of wine and Amber noticed she was a little drunk.

  ''Crazy,'' Amber said. She looked across at the back of Danny's head and smiled to herself. She liked him. She didn't know why. Was it his cheeky disposition, his stunning looks or the way he complimented her without inhibition? Maybe she was just charmed by his English accent. Whatever, I might as well enjoy it, she thought

  Finally, the speeches stopped. The band leader introduced himself and his colleagues and began to play some dance music that was popular fifty years ago. A lot of older players took their wives to the dance floor and soon it was full.

  Amber saw Danny deep in conversation with a Spanish looking man. She wanted him to look around at her, but he didn't. The conversation became animated, and Danny stood up and kicked his chair over. When he stormed out of the room, Amber instinctively stood up and followed him. He turned left and walked through the revolving front door onto the street. As he sucked in the night air, his face was lit up again by the photographers.

  ''Fuck off you ass-holes,'' he shouted. He grabbed a camera and was about to smash it on the ground.

  ''Danny, stop,'' Amber shouted. She ran to him and pulled him away. ''Come on. Let's walk,'' she said. Danny was breathing hard, looking for a fight, but none of the photographers
were brave enough.

  ''Shit,'' he said as they walked away from the hotel. ''That'll be all over the tabloids tomorrow. More trouble.''

  ''Calm down. So what if it is in the papers tomorrow? You're Danny Constance, brilliant footballer. You're not the Prime Minister or a policeman. Everybody expects a young man like you to be a bit wild.'' She took his arm and threaded it through hers. ''Come on take me to one of your famous pubs.''

  The White Horse was busy inside, but it fell silent when people saw Danny.

  ''Danny Constance, you are a hero, ain't he lads,'' the barman exclaimed. The pub exploded into raptures of applause and cheers. Danny turned around and smiled. ''Thanks. Thanks a lot.''

  They sat in a cozy corner next to a real fire. ''People love you. I can see that. Why worry about a few stupid photographers,'' Amber said.

  ''I'm not worried about photographers, but I'm worried about what my manager just told me.''

  Amber looked at him quizzically. ''Do you want to tell me?'' The pained expression on his face made her push her hand across the table and take his.

  ''I was in a nightclub a few weeks ago. Me and Rod were dancing with a load of girls. One girl pushed her breasts against my chest; I gently pushed her away from me. Now she's made a case against me for sexual assault and Miguel, our manager, has just heard the police have passed the file to the Crown Prosecution Service and recommended they take me to court.''

  Amber looked horrified. ''If all you did was push her away, where is the proof?''

  ''Exactly,'' he said.

  ''Well, it hasn't got that far yet. I'm sure it won't.''

  ''I wouldn't be so certain,'' Danny said staring into the top of his glass.

  ''Come on, there are much more cheerful things to talk about than this. Tell me about where you grew up.''

  Danny laughed. A young man came to the table and asked politely for his autograph. Danny obliged. ''If you think talking about my childhood is more cheerful than talking about possible prosecutions then you're mistaken.''