The Price Of Success (Fighting For Fireworks)

by Lee, Corri

  “Well I suppose he would think that,” Eleanor crossed the distance to Bethany’s desk and perched herself on its edge, “he’s never wanted for a single penny.” My suspicions were confirmed. “What do you know about him, Cecelia?”

  “Him personally?” I honestly hardly knew a thing. “Abhorrently rich and socially challenged.”

  A quick burst of rich laughter escaped from Eleanor’s mouth. “Not a truer word said. You have to tell me where you bought the balls to talk to him like that though- I have to get me a pair.”

  “I don’t need balls, he just doesn’t intimidate me.” She shot me an incredulous look but she was prevented from questioning me further by the shrill ring of Bethany’s telephone.

  “Alexander Publishing Ho-…“ she gave a small squeak and shrank down in her seat. “Mr Alexander. No, she’s-…” Bethany’s eyes flickered up to meet mine for a moment. “Of course. Me? I uh… it was the best thing I’ve read in months. Not a jot of childhood trauma or dom-sub romance. Okay.” She blinked down at the receiver in confusion before placing it back down on its cradle. Her forehead creased and she was clearly bewildered. “He wants your manuscript, Cici.”

  I was temporarily struck dumb. “He does what now?”

  “He wants to read it himself. He says you’ve piqued his personal interest.” My mind ground to a halt. Why on earth did he want my novel when he had said himself that I couldn’t write effectively about situations I hadn’t experienced? “I have it here, Cici. You can’t seriously be considering saying no.” I was. But I knew that I couldn’t.

  “Go crazy. Indulge whatever crazy whim it is he’s nursing. I’ll write this off as a don’t-call-us-we’ll-call-you encounter.”

  I said my goodbyes and left feeling like I somehow had some unfinished business with Alexander Publishing House.

  Bethany worked painstakingly over my image from the moment she stepped through the door until I left the house at half past seven. She miraculously tamed my straggle of chestnut hair into lush loose ringlets that swept across my face and tucked behind my left ear. I was adorned in a very simple yet classy white wrap around dress with matching court shoes and a small navy blue clutch purse to carry my feminine necessities.

  I knew that Bethany had chosen my outfit on purpose- the colours matched with my eyes. There was very little about me that stood out in a crowd, but my eyes were almost an enigma. The irises were mercury grey but so heavily flecked with white that it would have been almost impossible to distinguish them from the schlera of my eyes if not for the prominent band of the darkest blue that entrapped them. During my childhood, there had been medical speculation over how a grey eyed child came from parents with green and brown eyes, but ultimately, it had been whittled down to me being ‘an anomaly’. In a room full of people, my eyes were the only shred of individuality I had.

  And tonight, I certainly would stand out. In my current state of dress I could be perceived as both hostile and ethereal- my eyes reflected the colour of whatever I wore, and in this case, they shone like white hot beacons. The daringly low cut neckline of the wrap dress that clung to my curves said ‘accessible’, but my face said ‘untouchable’. If there was a way I could make it clear to Cole that he was barking up the wrong tree, this would be it, and I wholly appreciated Bethany’s self-taught fashion finesse.

  I had arranged to meet Cole at the restaurant, having no desire to introduce him to the sanctity of my home. Like a vampire, I imagined he would feel as though it gave him the right to come and go as he pleased.

  My destination was an intimate Italian bistro in a quiet corner of London. As I approached, I was instantly suspicious that he may have brought me here because he had some sort of family tie that granted him discounted meals.

  He was already seated when I arrived- immaculately dressed in a black shirt with fine silver pinstripes, sleeves folded up to just below the elbows, and finely tailored black suit trousers. A little formal, I thought, but the conflicting hues of our outfits proved that we were deeply unsuited. Or extremely compatible. I brushed that thought aside as he rose from his seat, mouth slightly agape, and pulled my chair out from underneath the table.

  “Cecelia, my god.” His breath flooded across my shoulders as I sat and he swept a napkin across my thighs. “You look phenomenal.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at him politely and reached for my menu. I wasn’t going to comment on his appearance- he was handsome but he wasn’t wowing me any. My tongue clicked against the back of my teeth impatiently as I scoured the menu- I had ruined enough outfits to know that there wasn’t a single dish available that didn’t carry the risk of spending my evening spattered in stains.

  Cole’s gaze hovered over my chest for a moment before he set his menu down on the table and gave a slow lazy blink. “Would you like to go somewhere else? It would be a shame to spoil that dress.” I scoffed, knowing that he was more than eager to ‘spoil’ my outfit.

  “Here is fine. The alfredo should be relatively safe.” Again, I smiled politely and folded my hands in my lap.

  The spark of attraction from the previous night had fizzled out and I felt very much like I was sharing dinner with an old friend or a colleague. This meal could at least end up with a new friend or my reserving Cole for Bethany, so I felt that I owed it to him to make the effort to get to know him.

  “Tell me about yourself, Cole.” He stared at me blankly for a moment before arching his slightly-too-well-groomed brows and running his finger across a crease in the red and white gingham table cloth.

  “What’s to know? I’m twenty-five, I teach at the local college and I like to drink and socialise.” You’re boring.

  “You’re a teacher?” I pushed past my apathy with a clenched jaw.

  “I teach A Level Law.” Intelligent.

  “Are you a lawyer, Mr Fiore?” His eyes narrowed and a smirk spread across his features.

  “I could be, Miss Douglas. But I feel that my time and knowledge is better spent educating others than representing rapists and attempted murderers.” My eyes widened slightly at his response. He clearly had a strong moral fibre I hadn’t considered nor given him credit for. “And you? Tell me about yourself, Cecelia.”

  “What’s to tell?” I nodded to the waiter who placed a bottle of white wine down on our table and proceeded to uncork it. “You know all there is to know. I’m twenty-four, I enable the alcoholism of elderly lecherous gentlemen, and I write novels. Well, a novel.” Our conversation ground to a halt while our orders were taken and I sipped from the perfectly crisp wine in my glass.

  Cole refilled his glass to its rim and casually ran a finger around it to create a low whistle. “Tell me about your needs, Cecelia.”

  My eyebrows jerked up and I treated him to a contemptuous chuckle. “We haven’t even eaten and you want to discuss my relationship requisites? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?”

  “I’d be happy to discuss prerequisites first. Tell me what a man has to do to romance you.” He was keen- too keen, and it was off-putting.

  My fingers drummed across the table top before my hand swiped up my wine. “Whatever my preferences are, Cole, I don’t believe you can fulfil them. Don’t make the mistake of considering my presence as a sign of genuine romantic interest. We had a deal and I’m a woman of my word.”

  “Duly noted.” He flashed me a lady-killing smile as our starters were set down before us. “But satisfy my curiosity. You strike me as the kind of woman who needs to be worn down before she’ll accept that a man’s interest doesn’t come with an ulterior motive to- what was it? Launch a ‘brutal assault on your cervix’?”

  My mouth twitched as I suppressed a smile and I tore a chunk of bread from a petit pain to dip into my Mediterranean tomato and herb soup. “Perceptive, aren’t you?” To be worn down is exactly what I needed, but nobody ever had the patience to do so. I was a tough audience. “I need white hot sparks flying between us, sweeping Hollywood style kisses, outrageous romantic gestures. That old c
hestnut.”

  “I see.” He waved a hand dismissively and put a prompt end to his probing and, I hoped, his interest. He was clearly after an easy lay and I was going to be too much hard work. “How was your day, Cecelia?”

  The conversation that accompanied our starters and beyond was an acceptable level of mild mannered banter and good humoured insult. There was no denying that Cole was a sterling dining companion who knew where to draw a line under a subject and let it lie. He told me of his usual Friday routine of ejecting his drunken students from classes, and I told him of my run in with Nathaniel Alexander. He knew of him, of course. The Alexander family dominated a large portion of the British Economy, from publishing novels to television transmission.

  “Is he as intimidating as everyone makes out?” Cole sliced into his panna cotta with the edge of his spoon and held it near his mouth. “I’ve heard he could freeze lava streams just by standing too close.”

  “He certainly has an oppressive presence about him, but I wasn’t intimidated. I could understand why people might feel that way around him though.” I smirked and swooped over to steal a prohibited taste of his dessert. “My compliments to the chef.”

  Cole gave me a look that told me that my cheekiness would be tolerated just this once and pushed on with our conversation. “I read somewhere that he hasn’t ever had any romantic pursuits in his life and rarely takes lovers.” This was news to me.

  “That explains a lot. Sex starved and lonely. What’s wrong with him?” Apart from all of the egomaniacal narcissism.

  “He’s waiting to stumble upon the yin to his yang, by all accounts.” I laughed, highly doubtful that he would ever find someone he deemed ‘worthy’ and shook my head.

  “I wish him the very best of luck. I’m not saying he seems like a total bastard, but if I hear any reports of someone finding a sack of drowned puppies in the canal, I’d put money on him being the one who tossed them in there.”

  I felt him before I saw him in the reflection of Cole’s frozen and horrified eyes. That icy, soul destroying aura flooded the room and battered the senses of every single diner. “He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?” Cole nodded slowly and averted his gaze as those deathly footsteps approached at my shoulder.

  “Miss Douglas,” his voice was silky smooth and scathing, “always a pleasure. I’ll tell my PA to put a hold on that sack of puppies, seeing as my cover is blown. I’m not sure that my lack of personality would be seen as a good enough excuse to avoid prosecution by the animal protection services.” I snorted with laughter quietly under my breath and it felt as though the entire restaurant took a sharp intake of breath at my reaction. Honestly, what was the fuss? He was as average as anyone else in there- his God complex and his millions, maybe billions, didn’t make him any less human. “Might I have a word?”

  “I don’t think so, Mr Alexander.” I turned in my seat and gave him a tight lipped smile. “I’m in the middle of a date. Coffee, Cole?”

  “Oh, uh…” Cole quickly whirred back into life and raised a hand to summon an idle waiter. “… Of course.” Apparently the rich arsehole fried the brains of men too. I turned back to my dessert and pushed the plate away. Mr Alexander had spoiled my appetite for tiramisu.

  I rose from my seat and smoothed down the back of my dress before stepping out from the table. “I’m just going to powder my nose. I’d like to drink my coffee in peace when I return.” I didn’t address him directly, but I sincerely hoped that Mr Alexander got the hint that his presence wasn’t welcome. I coolly collected my clutch purse and headed for the bathroom, making a hastened scramble within it’s depths purse for my mobile phone the moment I was out of sight.

  My wits left me in that moment and I made a SOS distress call to Bethany. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, Cici. How’s your date going?” I stared at myself in the mirror and saw that my eyes were even more ghostly in the fluorescent strip lighting of the bathroom.

  “It was boring, and then it got annoying. Nathaniel Alexander just turned up at my table.”

  “Holy shit!” I heard a glass smash and a roar of approval. She was obviously in the bar. “What did he want?”

  “Haven’t the foggiest. He said he wanted a word and I told him to stop interrupting my date.”

  Bethany laughed hoarsely in disbelief. “You want to watch yourself, Cici. You stand out as the only woman in the world who won’t take his crap. He’ll be earmarking you as his challenge to dominate.”

  “He’d have a job.” No man ever took a position of authority over me unless they paid me, and no, I had never been a prostitute. “Cole has ordered coffee, and then I’m free. Shall I meet you at work?”

  “Absolutely! I crave gossip!”

  I made for the door of the bathroom while I crammed my phone into the small compartment of my purse and collided with another body. The contents of the purse spilled out across the floor and left me crippled with embarrassment. Thank god I hadn’t come out with the intention of adding a digit to my magic number. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going, that was absolutely my fault.” I swept down to collect both my scattered belongings and my scattered wits from the ground, and my victim crouched with me to assist. “Please, let me buy you a drink to apologise.”

  I glanced up for a moment and was shaken to my core. Two blue rimmed, white flecked, mercury grey eyes were cast downwards towards the floor, searching the hardwood for my possessions. My stomach knotted- this was the only time I’d seen someone else with eyes that matched mine, and they were attached to Nathaniel Alexander. I struggled to comprehend how I hadn’t noticed earlier in the day, and then I remembered the rich reds and mahoganies of his office and his narrowed eyes by Bethany’s desk. I hadn’t been close enough to see them properly.

  “Are you quite alright, Cecelia?” He glanced up momentarily to study my vacant face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “No,” I stammered then took a steeling breath to gather my senses, “I mean yes- I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen anyone with the same eyes as mine.” His forehead creased into a frown before he raised his face to mine, and I saw an unexpected lapse of his rigid foreboding demeanour when our eyes locked. Something softened for a moment before he took the same harsh breath as I had.

  “Your novel, Miss Douglas-…”

  “Not now, Mr Alexander.” I scrambled to my feet as he rose gracefully, putting my belongings back into my purse, and I desperately tried to ignore his blatant examination of my appearance. “If you have business with me, I’d be more than happy to speak to you in business hours. If it’s urgent, my phone number and address are on the front of my manuscript.”

  He ran one of his long fingered hands through his hair in what almost looked deceptively like frustration and then dug it into his pocket. “I don’t have it with me and I won’t be back in my office until Monday.” He pulled his smartphone from his pocket and held it out to me. “I’d like to speak to you as soon as I part ways with my brother. Please, Cecelia.” I stepped back slightly and shook my head. There was something deeply intense about this moment that I wasn’t comfortable with, and I knew he was trying to disarm me again.

  “I don’t think we have a close enough business relationship to be on a first name basis, do you, Mr Alexander?” He cocked his head at me slightly and gave me a wry smile.

  “Please, Miss Douglas. You have my interest-…”

  “Piqued.” I completed his sentence and hesitantly took the smartphone from his hand. “So I hear.” I programmed my number into his contact list and handed it back to him with an accompanied shake of my head. I couldn’t quite believe that I’d given up my phone number to a man so willingly. “Surely this can wait until Monday?”

  “No.” His index finger brushed across mine as he took his phone. “I have a proposal that you’ll want to consider- at least sleep on.”

  “Alright.” I pursed my lips and took a sideways glance at Cole, who was watching us w
ith narrowed eyes and contemplation. “I’ll be here for half an hour at the most, and then I’m meeting Bethany Marshall at our bar before I head home. You can call after I part ways with my date.” It seemed odd to be the one barking orders at him.

  “You don’t look like you want to be at a table with him, Miss Douglas.” I smirked and snapped shut the clasp on my purse before I strode away a few paces.

  I stopped and glanced at him over my shoulder through the mask of my ringlets. “I don’t.”

  I set my coffee cup down on its saucer and pulled my wallet from my clutch purse with a sigh of relief. I had seen my obligatory date with Cole through to the end and was now free from his relentless nagging. In theory.

  I turned the cheque around to face me and dug half of the total out of my wallet. “Thank you for a lovely meal, Cole. It was delicious, and not a single drop on my clothes.”

  He pushed my money back towards me and handed his credit card to the approaching waiter. “My treat, Cecelia. It was worth every penny.” I rolled my eyes as I scooped the money into my purse and rose from my seat. “Can we do this again?” My mind boggled.

  “I don’t think so, Cole. I told you, I’m not interested.” He rose beside me and brushed his fingers down the length of my arm. Enough of the touching.

  “Yet, Cecelia. You’re not interested yet.” Before I could object, I found myself swooped backwards, balanced between one leg and Cole’s forearm while he subjected me to his interpretation of a Hollywood kiss. From his end, it was impassioned and heartfelt, but for me, I was deeply embarrassed when the restaurant broke into applause.

  He set me back on my feet and I straightened myself out, desperately trying to suppress my annoyance. “Good night, Cole.” I strolled leisurely from the bistro before he could follow me and made to walk the five blocks to Bethany.

  My phone buzzed in my purse and I answered with a snap. “Yes?”