“Why didn't you tell me it was Grayson Sharp you shagged, not once but twice?”
Laughing together, Eve joined Sally and passed her two mugs as the kettle came to the boil.
“I knew his name, but I didn't know who he was and even when we met with Sharpstone I didn't make any connection. It's not like Sharp is an unusual name, is it?” asked Eve innocently.
“I suppose, and without being in advertising the name wouldn't ring any bells. He was pissed off with you when he thought you'd pulled a fast one though. I hope you don't mind that I told him what car you were in and confirmed that Max was dead.” Sally gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze after returning the kettle to its stand.
“It's fine, Sal. I’d planned on telling him later, but circumstances conspired against me, I just didn't want it to be a case of him thinking of me as the poor, young widow. You know how I hate the pitying expressions. Anyway, I’ve agreed to text him my address and for him to come over for lunch so we can talk,” Eve explained.
“And will you? Talk to him, not just jump in the sack with him because I can certainly see the attraction of avoiding talk, he's bloody gorgeous.” Sally grinned while Eve smiled.
“Definitely talk, but he is rather gorgeous, isn't he?”
“And I assume he is very, very good,” said Sally salaciously, causing Eve to choke on her coffee.
“Like you wouldn't believe.” Eve had just recovered from her coughing fit. “Seriously though, Sally, I meant what I said about resigning—”
“No—” Sally interrupted but Eve jumped back in.
“Sally, I mean it. It's been fun, and I know why you did it but this is not my life, it was Max's and I’ve loved it, but I think I need to find a real job, my own job.”
“Fine. Look, I must run but I needed to check you were okay. I think Sharpstone liked the idea of keeping the Marshall brand so I may just add some extra details to your stuff and see what they say in the morning, fingers crossed.” She hugged Eve tightly before leaving.
Eve text Gray her address as soon as Sally left and had been nervous at his response of:
Ok, see you soon. X
She was standing in front of her open wardrobe doors shortly afterwards and was considering what to wear when there was a knock at the door. Assuming it must be the postman with a parcel or something requiring a signature, she ran to the door minus shoes. The opening of the door revealed Gray standing there looking casual in faded blue jeans, a pair of Converse, plimsolls as her mother would call them, and a plain white t-shirt clinging tight across his ripped chest, arms and abs.
“Gray,” she gasped, trying to feign a lack of shock at his sudden appearance.
“Eve, am I too early, or...?” he asked hesitantly.
“Sorry, no, it's fine. I just didn't expect you to make it over here from the office so quickly.”
“Oh, okay. I went home after this morning,” he explained awkwardly.
“Right, erm, come in,” she said and heard the quiver in her own voice suddenly.
Leading him into the flat, she headed straight to the kitchen and nervously began to fumble with coffee cups until she abandoned the idea, waiting for her hands to stop shaking.
“Pine nuts!” she announced randomly to a concerned looking Gray. “Do you eat pine nuts? Can you? You're not allergic to them or anything?” She knew she was rambling now.
“Eve, calm down, please,” he implored, stepping closer but stopped short of touching her, making her even more aware of his presence and even more likely to fluster her further.
“I don't know how we do this, Grayson; I’m seriously out of practice at this relationship thing and even more out of practice at misunderstandings and confusion in new relationships,” she admitted and felt guilty as his face dropped sadly, prompting her to ask, “What?”
“I am even less experienced at this than you I’m sure and I understand that you are used to being in a happy, loving, permanent relationship without the misunderstandings and confusion,” he said, revealing the reason for his reaction to her comment clear.
“Right, let's start again then. I don't think coffee is quite strong enough, so I have a bottle of white wine in the fridge and assuming you can eat pine nuts I will finish lunch,” offered Eve, handing Gray the wine and a corkscrew.
Having toasted the pine nuts she added them to the chicken salad that she carried to the glass top table that was surrounded by four metal chairs upholstered with thick black cushions to the seats and backs. She thought the dining table that was rarely used was more conducive to talk than the high, black gloss stools at the breakfast bar that she liked as it gave the open areas a physical boundary.
Placing the plates down on black bamboo place settings she stood nervously, wondering what to do now.
“Eve, sit down, you're making me nervous,” said Gray firmly, as he took her hand and pulled her down into the seat next to him.
Allowing him to pull her to the seat he poured a glass of wine for her. As he poured one for himself, she was already gulping hers down making him frown at her.
“Eve!” he admonished. “If we're going to talk, we should probably remain sober. Let's eat, this looks gorgeous.”
Once Eve began eating she realised just how hungry she was and although the purpose of Gray's visit was to talk they spoke very little, certainly not about their relationship or the past until they'd finished eating. Feeling more relaxed after a couple of glasses of wine and a full belly, Eve got to her feet and asked,
“Do you want coffee now?”
“No, I'm good thanks,” replied Gray, standing next to her as he began to clear the table with her.
Turning quickly in the kitchen she almost collided with him making them both laugh.
“You look different.” Gray looked her up and down before laughing as he realised what it was. “You're minus your come fuck me shoes.”
“I would have been completely dressed, including shoes if you hadn't got here so soon. I was preparing to change when you arrived,” she explained.
“Then I'm kind of glad that I did get here when I did because you look lovely in that dress, the colour suits you.” He smiled, taking her hand and leading her to the two-seater, black leather sofa with a chaise longue attached.
Gray sat in the corner of the chaise and pulled her down next to him where she instinctively snuggled into his armpit, resting her head against his chest where he immediately embraced her tightly and dropped his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. He really couldn't get enough of her; how she looked, felt nor her glorious scent.
“You have a nice home, Eve. I like the monochrome thing you have going on in here.” He gestured towards the mixture of black and white furnishings around them, from the white walls to the black rugs over a white tiled floor.
The duo of colour was broken up by the metallic flashes of chrome in the kitchen and silvers of picture and photo frames. The only real splashes of colour were courtesy of the two floral arrangements around the room, a large one made up of white astilbe, bi-coloured red and white roses, red mokara orchids, red gerbera daisies and fresh myrtle in a huge white vase placed in the middle of a white gloss, four doored sideboard that appeared to have no means of opening it as it had no visible knobs or handles. The other arrangement, a smaller one, made up of the same blooms sat on the far side of the table where they'd had lunch, having been moved from the middle when the table was set.
“Thank you,” she replied to his kind comments about her home.
“Nice flowers,” he added, pointing towards the largest arrangement.
“Thank you,” she repeated. “They, along with my shoe collection are my indulgences,” she explained, making him raise both eyebrows and smile.
“Eve, I have to admit that the notion of a whole collection of come fuck me shoes interests me far more than the flowers,” he admitted, and as his expression changed she laughed, knowing he was imagining her in shoes.
“Did I say that they were all come
fuck me shoes, Grayson?” she asked with feigned seriousness making him grin at her.
“In my mind they are, all of them and if you keep talking shoes and calling me Grayson like that, I will not be responsible for my actions, and we're talking, okay?”
“Okay. Make yourself comfy, this whole talking thing could take a while,” she said seriously.
“Well, I have nowhere else I would rather be, so...” He pulled his legs off the floor to stretch along the length of the chaise where Eve now put her own legs, over his and replaced her head on his chest with a hand so that she was looking at him but ensured that her whole body was somehow touching his.
“I am really sorry about this morning, being in your office and you not knowing and the name thing.” She was desperate to get all her apologies and words out in one breath.
“Eve, forget this morning, please,” he pleaded, calmly looking into her eyes and stroking her hair back. “Pretend like we've just met and had a fantastic lunch, salad no less, a first date, tell me about you.”
Staring up at his handsome features shining with genuine kindness she felt strangely ill at ease. How long would his kindness stay or would it be replaced with pity, she really hoped not, she really couldn't bare people's pity.
“I assume you're not a big salad eater then?” She returned his smile.
“No, but for salad it was very nice,” he replied making her laugh.
“Okay, first date,” she said now recollecting their 'first date'.
“Is it just me or are you struggling to forget our 'first date?'” He wore a pained expression.
“I am back at The Stanford, with you in the resident's lounge, with your fingers finding their way into my pants,” she said with a distinct moan making him smile.
“I was in the lift myself, but I should clarify that the highlight of the resident's lounge was when my fingers found themselves in you. Now please can we move on before I explode,” begged Gray gazing down darkly making her drop her gaze as far as his crotch where she could definitely see the outline of an obvious erection.
Looking away from him briefly she reordered her thoughts and began to tell him about herself.
“I really have known Sally all of my life, we're cousins and we've always been close, closer than family, she is my best and oldest friend in the world, and we lived near each other. We went to different schools but the same university, doing different degrees. We house shared and became even closer. Then after we graduated Sally got a very junior post with an advertising company locally and I took a job with a big P.R. company, but mainly made tea and smiled for the first two years. We plodded along and got a flat together. Sal went to work for Milton & Star, still in a junior capacity but after a year or so she got promoted and went to work for Max. We'd planned to meet up for a night on the town one Friday night soon after, but Sally was invited out with the team and when she explained to Max that she was kind of double booked he suggested inviting me along, the more the merrier.”
Gray grinned at the picture Eve was painting.
“So, I went along, and Sally introduced me to Max who was lovely; he was funny, intelligent, bright, knowledgeable and very attractive.” She smiled. “I met up with their little gang for a couple of weeks on a Friday before Max asked if I'd like to meet up with just him. We went out and had a really good night and began to date, but for some reason we kept it under wraps. After a few weeks when Sal was spending the night at her boyfriend's place Max stayed over, however what we didn't know was that Sally had ended up arguing with her bloke and had come home in the night.” Laughing now Eve explained her amusement, “I woke up with a hangover to the sound of Sally screaming at the sight of her naked boss in our kitchen.
Gray smiled at her reminiscent amusement but was unsure if he should speak, if he needed to, he didn’t, he realised when she continued.
“She was great about it and Max rarely discussed work with her at ours or at family functions. We dated for a year or so before Max suggested us getting a place together and his mother, Annette, had a fit that her only son was going to shack up with anyone really. My mother was apathetic towards the whole idea as she was so absorbed in her own marriage disintegrating around her at the time. Max had a real problem with the fact that his mum wasn't on board with it whereas I just thought sod her, it was about us, me and Max, nobody else. He thought that she disapproved because she didn't think I was serious about us, which I was, as serious, more serious as I'd been about anyone. Max suggested we should go on holiday and worry about his mum when we got back. So off we went to the travel agents and an hour and a half later we left with tickets for a holiday to The Maldives and a wedding booked,” said Eve still startled by that fact.
“Really?” asked Gray stunned slightly. “Is that what you wanted?” he asked with a conflicted expression.
“I didn't want or need to be married, Gray, I'd seen my mum make enough mistakes without me repeating them, but it was done and I couldn’t imagine wanting to be married to anyone who wasn’t Max. Max decided we'd just go on holiday, come back married, move into our house and his mum would be okay with it.”
“And was she?” asked Gray nervously.
“She went ape shit!” she cried, recalling it with a wry smile. “She thought I'd trapped Max and would only serve to break his heart, which I may have done, who knows, or maybe he would have broken mine, which he kind of did, my heart and the rest of me,” she acknowledged with tears brimming her eyes. “So—” she continued with her composure somewhat regained, “—so, there we were married with anyone we cared about pissed off that they'd been excluded from our wedding, but we made a go of it. God, that makes it sound like a sufferance and it really wasn't.”
Gazing down, Gray nodded, unsure what he was confirming; the validity of her marriage or her claim that it had never been a sufferance she’d endured.
“I loved Max and he really did love me, like nobody ever had in my whole life, but I kind of resented being married for Annette and hated that my mother-in-law took every opportunity to point out my shortcomings. However, we rubbed along and when it was just the two of us it was good. Don't misunderstand, Annette is lovely and a fantastic mum, she loved Max, worshipped him, maybe that was the problem. When other people became involved, my mum, Annette, friends who couldn't understand why we'd rushed into marriage, things could get tense, I got tense, but when it was just us, I relaxed and enjoyed my life. I was getting used to being married and beginning to truly enjoy it while Annette was still struggling to come to terms with her loss of Max to me, which is how she genuinely saw it, when Max became ill.”
“What happened?” Gray asked, assuming a life-threatening illness must be the next revelation.
“Max got a cold he couldn't shift; aching in his limbs, sinus problems, a throbbing head. It was the first time I’d ever known him to take time off from work and he just couldn't shake off the illness. He went to the doctors eventually and they diagnosed flu, viruses, M.E. and dozens of other things and then one night he was sitting in front of his computer, trying to work when I heard him calling to me, screaming really. He was hysterical by the time I got upstairs,” she told Gray and despite trying to remain composed there were tears running down her face.
“Eve,” crooned Gray pulling her closer, holding her tighter than she would have believed possible. “You don't have to do this in one go, baby, you don’t owe me an explanation. I don't want to make you cry,” he told her as she wrapped her legs even further across him.
“It's okay. I just don't think I’ve ever told anyone all of this so honestly. Max was shouting to me, although I was standing in the doorway, but he couldn't see me. While he'd been working he'd lost his sight, like that,” she explained, snapping her fingers to demonstrate the speed with which it had happened. “I called for an ambulance and they took him to the local hospital where he was kept in overnight and although his sight came back not long after we arrived there, they kept him in and ran some tests the following morn
ing. I went home alone and for the first time in my life I cried myself to sleep as I realised how alone I felt without Max and how lonely I had been before him. I went back to the hospital the following day and after the tests and scans were done we were told that Max had a brain tumour, but our local hospital couldn't deal with it so they transferred him to a specialist unit that day.”
“Shit, Eve, that is awful,” whispered Gray.
“The specialist told us quite quickly that the tumour was inoperable and would kill Max, but that chemotherapy would buy him some time, so that's what he opted for. We'd been married for a year by then. Annette was beside herself, while his dad, Alan, tried to be jolly and keep everyone's spirits up and then Annette changed, she talked about when Max was better and the future, she even accepted me and our marriage, and pinned everything on Max recovering and us having children. No matter how many times I tried to discuss the inevitable she just pulled the shutters down. Max had the chemo and when we went back for the results it was horrendous,” she said with a sob that caught in her throat. “It hadn't really helped, the tumour was as big as ever and the cancer was aggressive, they found secondary tumours on his spine and some suspect growths on his kidneys and liver. Although they'd told us that the original tumour would kill Max, I never expected it to happen so soon, but it was relentless. I left my job that day and stayed at home with Max to care for him until the very end. Annette would come by every day and usually leave after we'd almost come to blows. For a couple of months Max and I enjoyed the time we had together and we laughed and cried lots, he talked about what he had previously hoped would be our future and what it would be now, what he still hoped for, for me. He told me what he wanted as far as a funeral was concerned and his concerns for me, his sisters and his parents.”
“How awful, for you both,” said Gray softly, holding her even tighter.
“After those first couple of months he went downhill fast and I was struggling to care for him adequately as his needs increased. I emptied a room downstairs to make a bedroom for Max, but it wasn't enough. The doctor suggested a hospice, even if it was just for respite, but Annette flipped completely, screaming and shouting at me, telling me I had never been good enough and that if I didn't care enough to fulfil my wedding vows to care for him in sickness and in health then she would and she'd take Max home. We had a huge row, me and Annette, and at that point I told her to piss off and remember her place, that Max was my husband, not hers, that I was his next of kin and that I called the shots she hit me, a rather sharp slap initially and then she lost it completely. I threw her out of the house and sobbed for hours while Max just stared into space. Alan came to check on me the next day and defended Annette's feelings if not her actions. Max deteriorated further and he was unrecognisable in so many ways and other than Sally I had nobody to talk to anymore. My Max was gone by that point,” she said between broken cries. “That was the worst thing, I lost him twice. The brain tumour took my Max away, the man I'd loved, the person I had fallen in love with, married, albeit in haste, but married never the less and it left behind an incapable mind in a dying body that barely resembled my husband. He died at home with me, Sally, his sisters, Alan and Annette a couple of weeks before his twenty ninth birthday. Annette and Alan were hysterical, beyond hysterical. Sally and Max's sisters were upset, but me?”
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