‘The confusing part Crawford, if I may be frank?’
‘Of course.’
‘Is that you seem to have had a lot of trial runs,’
‘Hmmn, I can understand that. Perhaps I may have seemed a bit of a ladies’ man in the past.’
‘Slight understatement darling. Still, I’m sure when the right person comes along, you’ll know. Has your father mentioned this charity dinner at the weekend?’
‘He did mention something.’ I nod.
‘Are you going to attend?’ She asks.
‘I think I should,’ I reply.
‘You could even find “the one” there.’
‘I doubt that. Anyway, I’m in no rush; I’ll leave it to fate.’
‘Your father is a good man Crawford, but he can perhaps be a bit blinkered sometimes, in particular when it comes to family. Do you want me to talk to him?’ She offers.
‘Thank you Seraphina, but you don’t have to do that. I'm sure it’ll be fine.’
‘Anyway it’s a quarter past ten, haven’t you a meeting to get to this morning?’ Seraphina asks looking at her watch
‘I have yes, thank you for reminding me. Waitress, could we have the bill, please?’
‘Of course,’ all smiles again, the waitress makes her way to our table.
I count out the right amount, and then add a tip before placing it in the little silver tray in the centre of the table.
‘No Crawford, my treat remember?’ Seraphina reaches for the bill, but I move the tray away.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it Seraphina. Besides it has been a treat talking to you, come on I’ll see you back to the office.’
Chapter 4
Her
‘It's somewhere around here isn't it?’ Betty tilts her head back, squinting down her nose to her glasses.
The rain is much heavier now. It’s pelting off the windshield as the wipers battle to clear our view.
‘Over there on the left will be fine,’ I say pointing to the kerbside.
‘Are you sure that's close enough to where you're going? You’ll soon get wet,’ Betty says.
‘Yes, Betty that's fine. You won't be able to get any closer anyway.’ I motion towards the cars parked bumper-to-bumper all the way down the road.
‘Okay well, here you go then. Have a good day won't you.’ Betty pulls the car in where she can, and I get ready to get out.
‘Will do, and thanks for the lift,’ I say opening the door. I put a foot outside onto the pavement and can feel the rain beating down onto my leg.
I leave the car shutting the door behind me. I’m quick to put my, now almost useless, carrier bag over my head for some protection and in a mad dash begin to run. Not as fast as I would like as my work shoes won’t allow it. The ground is slippery, and I can’t see much with this bag sticking to my face. But it's okay; I know where I'm going and I’m running on autopilot until I get there. I do however forget about the tiling outside the entrance, and running up to the door my feet begin to slip and slide beneath me. I try to keep my balance, but my left leg is going one way and my right foot the other. Unable to remain upright any longer, I let out a little screech and begin to tumble towards the floor.
‘I’ve got you,’ a soft velvety voice says as I’m caught inches from the floor.
I can’t see what he looks like but he’s well-spoken, and putting my arms out to steady myself, I can feel the bulge in his biceps.
‘Let's get this off so you can see,’ he says peeling the bag from my eyes and I catch the scent of expensive aftershave.
It’s his eyes I notice first, the most mesmerising sea-green eyes I think I've ever seen. They’re complimented by a bronzed complexion and dark golden locks.
‘Can you stand?’ He asks as he supports my elbows with his hands and as my hand rest on his chest, I can feel his pecs through his shirt.
He pushes his hands around my back and I look up at him. As we hold each other’s gazes, I realise we are almost hugging and withdraw back from his arms. Looking around, I see people staring at us.
‘Yes thank you. I learnt many years ago as a small child, and I’ve been doing it ever since. It’s kind of become a habit now,’ I say finding my voice.
He looks at me confused, and I don’t blame him. I’m confused too. His companion seems to find it funny though as she chuckles into the back of her hand. I wonder if they’re a couple. She’s yet to put on her gloves, so I can see she’s wearing a wedding ring. But taking a sly glance down at his hand, I can’t see anything as he’s wearing black leather gloves. She could be his mother, of course, but I don’t think she’s old enough for that. They could be having an affair I suppose; we get that here more that you’d think. I can see all of him now, from head to toe and he’s impressive throughout. He’s wearing a smart designer suit and a navy woolen overcoat with the collar turned up. He looks like an actor in a posh aftershave commercial. I’ve never seen anyone like this in real life before.
‘Seraphina, will you be okay here while I take the lady inside,’ he asks his redheaded companion.
‘Of course,’ she replies. She’s smiling and not showing a flicker of jealousy. If anything she looks rather entertained by the scenario, and I don’t think that they’re an item now.
‘That’s not necessary. I work here, look!’ I pull my cardigan aside to show the logo from the coffee shop on my shirt. He smiles and I realise I’m giving him an eyeful of my double D’s. ‘I'll be well looked after if I need it,’ I say I pulling my cardigan closed to conceal myself.
‘Well if you're sure,’ he says smiling.
‘Yes I'm sure,’ I reply.
‘I do think we should let the lady get to work now Crawford. Also our driver’s waiting,’ the red-haired lady says.
‘Of course, well it was nice meeting. I’m Crawford Montgomery,’ he says removing a glove and extending his hand towards me.
‘Amy Smith,’ I say reaching my hand out towards his and as they touch, I feel a warmth through my body. His skin feels silky smooth and comfortable. Neither of us let go as we just stand there.
‘He hum,’ the red-haired lady clears her throat and we drop our hands to our sides.
‘Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Amy. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.’ He beams a dazzling white smile at me.
‘You too,’ I say turning to push my way through the large glass door into the shop.
Without looking back, I make my way across the shop and pas the counter to go on into the kitchen. Taking an apron from the back of the door, I’m beginning to tie it around my waist when Laura comes straight for me with a playful grin on her face.
‘So Amy, what was it like?’ She asks.
‘What was what like?’ I say fastening the bow behind my back.
‘Falling into the arms of that rich hunk of course.’
‘I didn't fall into his arms now did I?’
‘You did.’
‘Okay yes, well I suppose I did. But not on purpose, and anyway, what makes you say he’s rich?’
‘Oh, I don't know maybe the expensive suit, the smart watch, or the big, posh car parked down the road.’
‘What would he be doing in here then, if he’s so rich?’
‘Rich people drink coffee too you know and we’re in the City of London, you could meet anybody here.’
‘I suppose you’re right, and he did smell divine if that's what you want to know.’
‘Really is that all. I'd have given anything to have been that up close and personal to him.’
‘If you two are finished chatting could you please start to do some work,’ Gloria says poking her head around the kitchen door. ‘Your shift started two minutes ago Amy.’
‘Yes, sorry Gloria,’ I say and grabbing my notebook, I heading out onto the shop floor with Laura hot on my heels.
Chapter 5
Him
‘Crawford, hello dear,’ Seraphina smiles at me as I enter the reception of my father’s mansion.
‘Good evening Seraphina, I hope I’m not intruding. I wanted to have a word with my father if I may?’ I look over her shoulder.
‘Why yes of course. He’s erm…in the lobby,’ Seraphina looks uncomfortable.
My father must have heard me arrive, as he emerges from the large walnut coloured doors to his study.
‘Crawford...’ he begins before giving a cautious glance back over his shoulder.
‘Father. I came to say, well about today…’
‘Crawford, there’s no need. There’s something, well somebody…’
‘Crawford darling,’ my mother strides out from my father’s study. Her stiletto heels tip-tapping away on the marble floor beneath her.
‘Hello mother.’ I haven’t seen my mother in a while, so I’m somewhat surprised to see her here this evening. Judging by the uncomfortable demeanor of my father. Whose hands are in his pockets as he looks at his toes, and Seraphina, who’s looking down at her hands. Neither of them were expecting her either.
‘My darling boy, you look fabulous. How long’s it been?’ She places her arms around me in a controlled hug.
‘It's been a while Mother,’ I say.
‘Tell me, how are you?’ She steps backwards, smoothing down her pinned-up dark brown hair. I suspect in case our rather subdued embrace may have somehow disturbed it.
‘I'm fine mother and yourself.’
‘I can't complain,’ tugging at the fingers of her long black gloves she begins to pull them from her hands.
‘And Josh is it? How is he, with you this evening is he?’
‘I haven’t seen much of Josh of late,’ she fiddles with her hair again, this time poking some of it back under her black, netted, pillbox hat. ‘Anyway,’ she says hooking her arm into mine. ‘Enough of that, tell me about you. What have you been up to?’ She says tapping a ruby-red fingernail on my shoulder.
‘Well, there's not much to tell mother, I’ve...’'
‘Hold that thought,’ she interrupts me as her mobile phone begins to ring. Taking a few steps back, she removes the phone from her clutch and flicks it open. ‘Excuse me darling won’t you? I must take this; I won’t be a moment.’
I watch as the door attendant opens the door for her, and my mother tips-taps her way outside. As it shuts behind her, I know she won't be back tonight.
‘What did she want this time?’ I turn to my father.
‘I think she wanted to see how you were, check in on you,’ my father replies.
‘Right, so what was the real reason she was here?’ I ask. She’s my mother, but I’m under no illusions.’
My father looks anywhere but at me.
‘Seraphina?’ I turn my question towards her.
‘Crawford I…’ Seraphina’s big, dark blue eyes look pained. She wouldn’t lie to me unless she felt she had to, but she would never speak out against my mother either.
‘She wanted money didn’t she?’ I turn back towards my father.
‘Well, I suspect she might be struggling. Her and Josh are having problems I believe. Being a woman of a certain age and on her own, it's understandable she might find things difficult.’
‘Uh-ha,’ I head for the door.
‘Let me get that for you, sir,’ the door attendant says as he rushes to open the door for me.
‘No. It’s fine thank you’ I hold up my hand and he steps back, allowing me to do it for myself. Once outside, I see my mother tottering through the massive gates at the bottom of the drive. I watch, as she steps into a red, convertible, sports car driven by a man at least half her age.
My mother’s never had a job in her life. She’s always had things her own way and she’s always had things given to her. Being born into aristocracy, she’s well accustomed to all its airs and graces. My father, however, is from a different background altogether. He’s worked all his life and built himself from the ground up. By the time he met my mother, he was already his own man and able to give her everything she desired from life, but it wasn’t enough. Unbeknownst to her, her father had been an insatiable gambler. So beyond the airs, graces, and titles they had nothing but debt. When he died, she was left without a penny. It cost my father everything he had to settle the estate for her and then she left him, left us. That’s when he met Seraphina. She saw the man in him and gave him everything she could; love, companionship and a chance to be in business again. With Seraphina’s help, he built himself an empire again. I’d be glad to give my mother anything she needed, but why my father continues to give her money escapes me. Perhaps he still loves her, perhaps he feels sorry for her because he knows what it's like to be poor in a rich world - who knows.
Walking back through the house, I find my father sat by the fire. The top button on his shirt is open as he cradles a scotch in his hands and stares into the flames. I glance across the room and see Seraphina stood at the other side watching him and decide to slip away. I’ll apologise to him tomorrow.
Chapter 6
Her
‘Dad, have you seen my black pencil skirt?’ I call down the stairs as I’m tossing clothes in the air over my head trying to find it.
‘No,’ he calls back.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, positive. What would I be doing with your black pencil skirt?’
‘I didn't say you had it, I just asked if you'd seen it,’ I say heading downstairs to look there.
‘Well, I haven’t. Does it matter?’
‘Yes, I need it for work.’ Passing the living room, I head straight for the kitchen.
‘Can't you make do with something else?’
‘No. It’s for my evening job. It's a posh do tonight and I need my best attire,’ I say riffling through some clean washing next to the dryer.
‘Have you checked the tumble dryer?’
‘I’m checking it now.’ Opening the door, I reach an arm inside. ‘Got it,’ I shout whilst pulling the no longer missing black skirt from the machine and carrying it into the living room with me.
‘So how are you feeling? Have you had enough to eat?’ I say walking over to my father and kissing him on the head.
‘Yes, I'm all right,’ he says, looking quite comfortable with a blanket across his lap, and the remote control in his hand.
‘I’ll leave you a sandwich and some snacks in the fridge before I go if you’d like.’ I take hold of his hand.
‘No you don't have to do that, I’m sure I’ll be okay. I’ve had plenty to eat today, and if I do get hungry, I’m sure I can rustle myself something up.’
‘I know, but I want to.’
‘Whatever makes you happy dear,’ he says patting the back of my hand. ‘Where was your skirt?’
‘In the tumbler of course.’
‘Just as I suggested?’
‘Just as you suggested,’ I reply, beginning to tidy the table beside him and stacking some of his magazines in a neat pile.
‘Why do you need a fancy skirt anyway?’
‘I told you, it’s for work. We’re under strict instructions to wear our best attire. Now, Rosie’s running a little late. If I have to leave before she gets here, will you be OK on your own for a bit until she arrives?’
‘I’m not a child Amy.’
‘I know that Dad. I better get moving or I’m going to be late,’ I stand to exit the room.
I head back up the stairs and once I’m in my room I toss the skirt onto the bed and retrieve a blouse from the wardrobe to lay next to it. Removing my clothes, I grab hold of my skirt, pull it over my hips and tug at the zip on the back. Slipping my arms into my blouse, I begin to do the buttons up.
‘Now behave yourself tonight please,’ I say reaching the ever tricky middle button. The one that always pulls, splits, and pops open at the most inappropriate moments.
I wonder about my father’s mood this evening. He seems in good enough spirits, but I do worry sometimes. Sliding my feet into my shoes, I head down the stairs and, as I reach the bottom, the doorbell rings.
‘Hello Ro
sie, come in,’ I say opening the door.
I’m relieved to see her arrive before I leave. My father’s more than capable of being left on his own, but I don’t always like to leave him that way. I often worry he’ll think too much about Mum and upset himself if he’s on his own. Rosie’s his helper; she comes a few times a week or whenever we need her to. I tried to do everything at first. Look after Dad, the house and the finances. But I soon realised I couldn’t manage it all on my own, and Dad didn’t want me to. That’s why we got Rosie in to help.
‘Hi Amy, where is he?’ she steps inside and begins to take off her coat.
‘He’s in the living room Rosie.’ I step aside to let her pass.
‘Good evening Sam,’ Rosie says approaching dad with a big smile.
‘Ah Rosie.’ My father’s face lights up. ‘I was told you were going to be late,’ he says.
‘I thought I would be, but I made it here in time.’ Rosie places her handbag on the floor next to the sofa.
‘Would you like a drink?’ He clutches the side of his chair in an effort to get up.
‘No it’s OK Sam; I’ll get the drinks,’ Rosie says.
‘Only if you’re sure,’ my father replies.
‘Yes Sam, I’m positive, you stay where you are.’
‘Right well I’ll be off now Rosie,’ I say, seeing how they’ve both become settled in for the evening.
‘OK Amy, have a good night at work won’t you,’ Rosie calls in from the kitchen.
‘Will do, thanks, Rosie. See you later Dad.’ I kiss my father on the head again and leave the room.
Chapter 7
Him
‘Are you having fun old boy?’ Ashby says appearing beside me and swirling what’s left of a brandy and coke around the bottom of his glass.
‘You know how it is,’ I reply.
‘I see Evangeline Neville is looking rather ravishing this evening I must say.’ Tipping his head back, he lifts his glass and throws the last of his drink into his mouth.
‘I can't say that I've noticed.’
Taking a drunken step backwards, Ashby bumps into somebody behind him. It’s a waitress and he’s knocked some of the drinks o her tray over. I wait for him to apologise, but he doesn’t.
Romancing The Billionaire: The Complete Story Page 2