Enlighten (Thornhill Trilogy Book 2)

by J. J. Sorel

  “I thought she’d be here today. She was expected,” said Chris.

  I stared long and hard at him. It was obvious he had the hots for my girl, but it was hard to hate Chris for some reason. He wasn’t underhanded, in that he wore his sleaze on his sleeve. That I could handle. And I also knew that his work as an artist superseded everything, even his undressing eyes.

  “No, she’s busy organizing a wedding.”

  Chris’s sleepy blue eyes stretched open a little. “Oh, anyone I know?” He grinned.

  “No, Chris. Anyway, I like the idea of an auction. And I agree. The rich have got a tendency to splash cash where causes are concerned. I’ll get some publicity happening, which should help us along. I also want fifty percent of the sale price to go to the artists.”

  A slow smile burned into Chris’s face. “That’s impressively munificent, Aidan, very nice gesture. And I agree. It will help everyone along. Nothing inspires an artist than a little bit of cash for their labor of love.”

  I looked at Roy. “Are you okay with that, Roy?”

  “More than okay, Aidan. It’s really generous. I wasn’t expecting any money. The supplies are free, and if I wasn’t doing this, I’d be at home smoking pipes.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “Yeah, instead he’s here smoking pipes with me,” said Chris with a throaty laugh.

  I frowned. “Keep it under wraps, you two. I don’t want the law involved.”

  “I’ve got a prescription, Aidan,” said Roy.

  “And have you got a prescription, Chris?” I asked, staring down at his arms.

  He tilted his head and smirked. Chris was one of those characters that drifted through life living on the edge. I got him. That, quite easily, could have been me. There was such a fine line between success and failure. Chris loved balancing on a tightrope, poking his tongue at the establishment, who, dazzled by his devil-may-care attitude, kept him buoyed. Talent helped.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Now that was an image I would pay a fortune for. Clarissa, deep in concentration, sitting on a lacework bench, sketchpad balancing on her irresistible thighs.

  Rocket raced over to her. She giggled as she bent down and patted him. Her beautiful, rosy-cheeked face peered up and cast me one of her all-embracing smiles.

  “Hey, baby,” I said, making my way toward her.

  “Aidan, I didn’t expect you back so soon,” she said, closing her pad shut. She was so unnecessarily sensitive about her drawings. I thought they were delightful, just like her.

  “Let me have a look, Princess.” I sat close by her side.

  She knew me well. There was no point in arguing. She opened her sketch book. “It’s only a sketch. Not really that good.”

  “Nonsense. It’s beautiful, like you.” I stroked her neck. How was it that every time I saw this girl, my whole world lit up? And my cock went into over-drive?

  I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. They were so soft, moist, and hot. I needed to take her upstairs, then and there.

  She pulled away, giggling. “Aidan, it’s only the afternoon. We’ve got all night for that.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a long sigh. “Nice and slow. However, I’m a little hungry now.”

  My hands crept under her blouse. Her breasts were warm and inviting. I licked my lips.

  Her wide-eyed gaze was both innocent and aroused, making my cock thicken and push hard against my jeans. “I don’t think I can wait until later, baby.”

  “Delayed gratification, Aidan,” she said, pulling away. “Anyway, I’ve got a few things to do right now.”

  “And what’s that? That can’t wait?”

  “I’m arranging the entertainment for the wedding. It’s only two weeks away, you know.”

  “About that,” I said, pushing back my hair.

  “What?” Her lips were parted, her long black hair was up in a messy bun, and her neck was crying out for my lips. I ran my tongue over her soft skin. Her nipples immediately hardened and pushed against her little blouse. “Aidan?” she said, laughing. “You’ve got a one-track mind. What were you saying about the entertainment?”

  “I was speaking to my father last night, and he said he’d like to perform with his band.”

  Her face lit up with excitement. “Yes, that would be great. Is Greta into that style of music?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose. My dad’s her twin. She grew up with him playing music. It would just make it a family thing. That’s all.”

  “Speaking of which, what about you, Aidan? I’m sure Greta and my father, and I, of course, would love you to play.”

  “I can do that. I’ll get some of the guys along. They’ll be there anyway. Evan and the crew.”

  “Evan?” Clarissa knitted her brows. “Does he play?”

  “Yeah, he sure does. He plays like a motherfucker.”

  Clarissa’s baffled frown melted into a slow smile that grew, ending in raucous laughter.

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “He plays like a motherfucker?”

  I chuckled. “It’s street talk for playing really well.” I grabbed her around the waist and drew her tight. “Come on, let’s go in, speaking of play.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Just as I was relaxing back, pants undone, and watching Clarissa put on a show with that teasing twinkle in her brown eyes, there was a knock at the door. Clarissa quickly escaped into the bathroom, while I was left to battle with the zipper of my pants. Ouch.

  When I opened the door, I found Greta standing there. Her eyes were wide with alarm. “Aidan, I’m sorry, but you have a visitor.”

  My face crumpled into annoyance. “Who is it? And how did they get through the gate?”

  Just at that moment, I heard my mother blustering in the hallway.

  Before I even had a chance to speak, she burst through the door. I’m not sure how she got through Linus. I’d given him strict instructions not to let her in. Or to, at least, call me first. Although treating one’s parent in this manner seemed harsh, I needed it this way to maintain sanity.

  “Hey, Patti,” I said, glancing at Greta, whose mouth turned down, expressing helplessness.

  She scurried off. I can’t say I blamed my aunt. My mother had always been belligerent toward her.

  “So, I finally get to see my son.” She pushed through me, stepping into my room. “You’ve painted the walls since the last time I was here. When was that again? Two years ago?”

  She headed straight to the bar. Grabbing a bottle of bourbon, she poured herself a generous amount.

  “Did you drive here?” I asked.

  “No, I caught a taxi.” She slurred her words. Even though it was only late afternoon, it wasn’t unusual for my mother to be sozzled.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, removing the bottle from her hand.

  “I wanted to see my wealthy, successful son.”

  “What do you want, mother?” I headed for the bathroom and opened the door. I crooked my finger at Clarissa, who was sitting there with a bathrobe on. “Come out and meet my mother, Clarissa.”

  “Oh, you’re going to finally introduce me to one of your chicks.”

  “She is not one of my chicks, Mother. This is my future wife.”

  Her thin eyebrows shot up. “She’s a pretty one, that’s for sure.”

  Poor Clarissa wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Well then, are you going to introduce us?” she asked.

  Clarissa beat me to it. “I’m Clarissa. Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand, and my mother took it.

  “Patricia. You can call me Patti.” She smiled.

  Clarissa sat down. I went to her side and took her hand. Together, we watched my mother pacing about the room. As usual, I was lost for conversation. It was never easy to find anything to talk about with my drunken mother, whose whole universe revolved around clothes, magazines, soap operas, booze, dope, and younger men. And not in that order.

  “How have you been, Mother?” I
asked.

  “I’m okay, I suppose. I’m seeing a sexy young man at the moment.”

  Ick, my mother and her lovers. I seriously hoped she wouldn’t go into detail.

  She wore her love conquests as a badge of honor. She had wavy, thick hair. Once blonde, it was now white with bright purple and pink streaks. Her face had that stunned expression that resulted after one cosmetic procedure too many, while her wide, blue eyes were bloodshot. Financed by my empire, the onetime beauty had done everything to hold back time by utilizing all that science had to offer. Dressed like women half her age, my mother liked to show off her fake boobs by wearing low-cut, tight blouses.

  It sickened me to watch her aging disgracefully. With hands on hips, wearing her typical out-to-shock smirk, she blurted, “He’s thirty years old and is really hot.” She winked at Clarissa.

  My stomach tightened. I wanted her to leave. I held my breath, praying she wouldn’t go into detail.

  She rummaged in her bag, bringing out a cigarette and lighting it.

  “Not in here, on the balcony,” I said, pointing to the French doors.

  “I don’t mind, Aidan,” said my angel, whose grace and gentleness against my mother’s brazen, gutter manner were akin to seeing a rosebud next to a noxious weed.

  “Peter’s the pool boy. Ha… how gloriously clichéd. But he’s so well…” She demonstrated with her hands.

  Bile moved up my chest. And when her high-pitched squawk bounced off the walls, my forbearance crumbled like a tower of cards.

  “What do you want? Why are you here?” My voice went up a decibel.

  “I need cash. And you’re not returning my calls.” She reverted to characteristic petulance.

  I went to my bureau and pulled out my check book. I scribbled a figure. “Here, take it and go.”

  “Twenty thousand dollars. I’ve got a billionaire for a son and this is the best he can give me.” She directed her bickering to Clarissa.

  “You seem to have forgotten that small detail of a $50,000 monthly stipend you received only just last week.”

  “It’s not enough. Beverly Hills is an expensive neighborhood. How can you expect me to keep up with the Steins and the Cohens?”

  “You could start by drinking less,” I said, glancing at Clarissa.

  I pushed my hair back. My legs were shaking. I swallowed deeply to hold back the fury raging deep in my chest. “You’ve got what you came for. I’ll call you a taxi.” I grabbed my phone and called Greta. “Can you call a taxi, please?”

  “Sure, I’ll do it now.” I could hear her note of concern.

  “So, when’s the wedding?”

  For a minute I thought she meant Greta’s. “Next week.”

  “You’re getting married next week. Hello. When were you going to tell me?”

  “Not mine, Greta’s.” My tone was grizzly and harsh.

  “Oh, so the spinster’s finally tying the knot. Who’s the poor man? Someone who can’t get it up, I imagine.”

  Clarissa got up, and with an awkward smile said, “Can you excuse me? It’s nice meeting you, Patricia.”

  I watched Clarissa heading for the bathroom. My eyes followed her. I cast an apologetic, helpless grimace as she caught my gaze.

  After Clarissa closed the door, my mother said, “She’s beautiful, Aidan. You’ll make cute babies.”

  Such was my anger that I punched the cushion on the sofa. My mother’s eyebrows lifted. She’d finally gotten a reaction. That was what she’d been seeking all along.

  “John Howard’s looking for you, Aidan. He’s after your neck. I hope you’ve got your security sorted. And I’m only saying this because you’re my son.”

  “And because you need my money, because if something were to happen to me then you would not be able to continue enjoying your undeserved lifestyle. You started all of this bloodletting. You’ve got Jacqui’s blood on your hands. You killed her the day you told that murderous fucker husband of hers.”

  “She was fucking my sixteen-year-old son. I had to do something.”

  “I’d just turned seventeen.” I squeezed my fist. My knuckles were white with rage. I hoped Clarissa couldn’t hear this. “Get the fuck out of here, Patti, before I break something.” I opened the door and stretched my arm. “Out.”

  “All right, all right. I’m going. And stick your fucking wedding up your ass. I wouldn’t come even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged me.”

  “Good, because you’re not fucking invited.”

  She tucked the check into her pocket, scowling at me.

  I slammed the door.

  Running my hands furiously through my hair, I paced about, trying to work off the rage eating away at me.

  Clarissa crept out. Her gaze was wide and bewildered.

  “I’m sorry you had to be party to that, Princess,” I said, holding her. But I was too agitated to linger. “Just wait a moment. I need to have a word with Greta.”

  I raced out of the room and found Greta downstairs having a word with Linus. As always, she was one step ahead.

  “Where the fuck were you?” I directed my verbal assault to Linus. “You’ve been instructed not to let her in.”

  Linus was another of my ex-army buddies. He’d been with me from the beginning of my empire-building years. Trustworthy and loyal, he was unbreakable—there was no one on this planet that could beat him in an arm wrestle. Even in the forces, against men that had trained hard, he could have everyone for breakfast when it came to strength.

  Staring down at his feet, Linus could not look at me in the face; he was hiding something. Or so it seemed.

  “Sorry, Aidan, I had to go to the toilet. I’ve had a bad stomach…” He touched his belly. His big black eyes glistened with deep regret.

  “No worries. Shit happens.” I looked up, and a smile grew. “No pun intended.”

  He chuckled out of his long face. “Sorry, man. It won’t happen again.”

  “It’s cool, Linus. It’s never happened before. I’m just a bit rattled by it, that’s all.”

  Greta stood by in silence. After we watched Linus shuffling off, she said, “Patti’s not in a good state.”

  “You’re not kidding me. She was drunk, stoned, obnoxious, and crass, as always.” I sighed. “How does one get a divorce from a parent?”

  “You could place a restraining order on her,” said Greta with a brittle smile.

  “First Jessica, now my mother.” I rubbed my neck. “Yeah, it might be the only way.”

  “What did she want, anyway?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Money again? I just raised her monthly allowance,” said Greta, sounding as frustrated as I felt.

  “Yeah, well…” I puffed out a loud breath. “She’s got a gambling habit.”

  Greta stood there and shook her head. “You’re not inviting her to my wedding, I hope.”

  “Aunty, you must know me better than that. I’m not even going to invite her to my own wedding.”

  About to move off, Greta paused. A line drew between her eyebrows. “Your wedding?”

  “Yeah, look. I, we, decided to marry. We haven’t announced it as yet. We were going to make an announcement at your wedding.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Would you let Clarissa tell Julian herself first? Sorry, I wasn’t meant to say anything. Shit.” I exhaled a long, tense breath.

  “My lips are sealed, Aidan. And look…” Her eyes softened. “I’m really happy for you. You’re both very well suited to each other. I know it’s pretty hasty. But Clarissa’s a one-off.”

  “That she is, Aunty.” I kissed her on the cheek and went back to my angel, feeling lighter in the chest.

  There she was standing out on the balcony, gazing at the watery sunset of wispy pinks and purples over a delicate fading blue. Her black, thick hair brushed her tiny waist. Dressed in a silky floral dress that splashed against her peachy backside, Clarissa was a thousand miles away. Oblivious to my ogling, she
remained perched against the marble balustrade.

  “What a picture you make, darling, against that pretty sky.”

  She turned, and her lips curved slightly. There was a hint of concern etched into her brow.

  I went to her and held her tight. Her jasmine-infused hair unlocked the tightness in my body. “I’m sorry about what just happened.”

  She pushed out of my hold and looked up at me. “That was pretty intense. She’s not in a good way, is she?”

  I brushed her cheek. “Subtle as always, Princess. My mother has been like that all my life.”

  Clarissa’s dark eyes shone with sympathy.

  “I’ve told you once before, Clarissa, I don’t do pity.”

  “It’s not that. I just want to heal your wounds.”

  I took her in my arms and crushed her with love. “You already have. I’m a different man because of you, Clarissa. I hope you know that.”

  Although the sad glint remained in her eyes, her lips curled gently. “And I’ve become a woman because of you, Aidan.”

  “That you have, my beautiful girl. A glorious, sexy, sensuous, kind woman. One that I am looking forward to growing old with.”

  A shy smile touched her face. “Do you want children, Aidan? You’ve never mentioned that.”

  “I never did until I met you. Now, the thought of a few little cuties that look like their mother running around makes my heart melt.”

  She looked at me with those large, gentle eyes. “What about if they look like you?”

  I laughed. “I could live with that. But seriously, Clarissa, first I want to travel Europe with you. Spend all our time visiting the great galleries. That way, you can teach me.”

  “You don’t need me to teach you anything, Aidan. I would love that though.” Clarissa left my arms. She became serious again. “What did your mother mean when she said that John Howard was after you? Are you in any kind of danger?” Her flawless, milky brow puckered. I could see the fear couched deep in her unblinking stare.

  I poured a drink. “Do you want a drink,” I asked.

  “Just some water, thanks.”

  Opening the fridge, I grabbed two bottles of Evian. I unscrewed the top and handed it to her.