Playing Irish

by Brooke Harris

  Julian laughed and shook his head. ‘Leave it. It’s only going to get worse.’

  He swung open the gate, and Eva took a deep breath before stepping inside.

  ‘Fuck, Evangeline, you can’t wear those.’

  Eva looked at her feet. Her beautiful shoes had been transformed into cavity blocks of mud on her feet. She kicked them off and grimaced as the cold ground met her already mucky toes. Julian laughed before he scooped her into his arms and spun her around.

  ‘It’s nature, Evangeline. Just go with it.’

  The rain was heavier now. It soaked her face as she tilted her head back savouring the strength of Julian’s arms holding her.

  ‘We’re about to get a whole lot dirtier. Have you ever ridden bareback before?’

  ‘I’ve never ridden before.’

  Julian tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. ‘Well then, Ms. Andrews, you are in for a treat.’

  The horse obeyed Julian’s command and waited, very still, as Julian helped Eva up. Julian was behind her in an instant. His thighs brushed against the back of hers, his chest and stomach tucked behind her back and his pelvis nestled against her bottom. He slipped his arms around her waist and placed the reins into her hands.

  ‘I can’t steer,’ Eva said, slightly panicked. ‘I don’t know where we’re going.’

  ‘That’s okay. He does. Just hold on.’

  Julian kicked his legs gently against the horse’s stomach and he began to trot forward. Eva held on tight as they picked up pace, and the horse jumped the fence and galloped toward distant fields.

  The only sound was the wind whistling in Eva’s ears and the rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves as he raced. She’d thought about making conversation a few times, but she knew it was pointless. They’d both know it was small talk, filling the gap until they were face to face, and she could confront him with the many questions that spun around her head, like an out of control hula-hoop.

  After what felt like a long time, the horse finally slowed and came to a stop under a huge, old oak tree. Julian got down first and reached his hand out to help Eva. Her dismount was less than graceful and she landed, falling on top of Julian, knocking him to the ground. She jumped up and brushed herself off, mortified. Julian stayed, lying open-legged on the long grass.

  Eva’s hands flew to her face. Oh Christ, had she hurt him? ‘Are you okay,’ she bent down gently, offering her help.

  Julian couldn’t answer, he was laughing too hard. ‘Get down here,’ he said, clasping her hand and pulling her on top of him.

  He kissed her. Eva was startled and took a moment to kiss him back. Something felt different. Yes, his mouth tasted as delicious as before, and his soft tongue pressed against hers like she’d grown to expect, but there was something more.

  Something that wasn’t there before. A sensation, a feeling. Could he feel it, too? Maybe she was reading too much into it - maybe she wanted to read too much into it. What was he doing to her? He had the power to erase all her thoughts with just the touch of his lips. It was dangerous and intoxicating, and it scared the hell out of her.

  Eva rolled to the side and tucked her body beside him, leaving her leg draped over his. Julian’s warm hand rested on her thigh and she exhaled deeply and relaxed. She felt more content than she ever had in her life, staring up at the sky from between the branches of the tree.

  It was probably the best time to ask all the questions that had circled her head, but no matter how many ways she practised phrasing them in her head, she just couldn’t bring herself to say them out loud. She wanted answers, but she worried they would confirm what she didn’t want to hear. So, she lay in blissful silence for a long time instead.

  ‘Comfortable, baby?’ Julian asked as a gentle breeze picked up.

  Baby? Eva repeated his affection in her head over and over. It was such a beautiful word, but its sweetness was diluted by the frustration Eva couldn’t suppress any longer. She liked it when her called her that but was the title only hers on loan? She was the winner of this year’s Miss Julian Harte pageant, and next year she would have to hand over her ‘baby’ tiara to his next fixation, like Shelly and Meghan had before.

  ‘So, how many babies have there been?’ Eva asked, choking back tears.

  Julian obviously didn’t appreciate her question. He looked at her like he was a five-year-old child and she’d let him have a suck of a lollipop before snatching it back and stomping it into the ground. He didn’t speak, but he sat up and folded his arms across his knees. Eva didn’t like it. She wanted them to stay lying together longer. Hell, she’d have been happy to stay there forever, but it was too late now, she’d opened Pandora’s Box and she couldn’t find the lid to close it again.

  ‘Julian, please? Just tell me.’ Eva knew Julian wouldn’t approve of her resorting to begging, but she was out of options.

  ‘Does it matter?’ Julian said, staring at the nearby lake.

  ‘It matters to me.’

  ‘Some. Not enough. Too many.’

  What? Fuck, she really hoped he wasn’t going to go all Mr. Cryptic on her again. Her hangover couldn’t handle trying to figure stuff out, and she’d feel obliged to because otherwise she wasn’t meeting expectations. Were they her expectations or his? Christ, she wasn’t even sure anyone. Forget who was he…maybe she should be asking, who was she?

  ‘It depends on your view, Evangeline,’ Julian said finally.

  Eva pulled herself up and bum shuffled to sit beside him. The wind was really starting to get chilly now as it blew through her shirt.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘What’s not to understand? I’ve been with other women. Of course, I have, but you know that. What you don’t know is why you’re asking.’

  Eva suddenly didn’t feel cold anymore. She was furious. Why did he always assume he knew her better than she knew herself?

  ‘It’s just a simple question, Julian.’

  ‘A simple question with a complicated answer. Don’t over analyse everything. Fuck, Evangeline can’t you just live in the moment?’

  It was Eva’s turn to look away. Could she live in the moment? Yes, of course she could. Did she want to? Erm, she wasn’t sure. Maybe she should just go with it, and have the time of her life. Live it up with a billionaire Sex God for three hundred and sixty-five days. But what would happen at the end of the year? Would she be able to give him up?

  ‘Why do you do this?’

  ‘Because I can. Carpe diem, Evangeline. And fuck anyone who gets in your way.’

  ‘Anyone?’

  Julian finally looked at her, indignant. ‘An-y-one.’

  Eva’s stomach churned and she dropped her head into her hands. Julian Harte was many things, from impressively intelligent to breathtakingly beautiful, but she’d never believed he was an asshole. Even now, she wasn’t sure. She knew what he was saying. He was honest, and for once, he put the games aside. But she didn’t believe him. It was all just words, a habit, a choice. She didn’t believe it was who he really was.

  She snorted and looked at the ground. It was just a pity that he’d built such a high wall, no one might ever get to see the real Julian.

  ‘So, how does this work?’ Eva said; her tone resonated a confidence she didn’t feel.

  Julian tilted his head and pressed his lips firmly together until they made a single, straight red line. He was irritated; that was obvious. But Eva admired his ability to keep his cool, outwardly at least.

  ‘A pointless question,’ he said sharply. ‘You seem to have decided all the answers already, Ms. Andrews.’

  ‘Well, I know how this works, if that’s what you’re implying?’ Eva snapped revealing her frustration much more than she wanted to.

  Julian’s eyes narrowed. ‘Enlighten me.’

  Eva thought of lots of ways to tell him what she knew, but she stumbled over her words and struggled to form full sentences. The last thing she wanted to do was hand him an ill-phrased moan that he could pick holes
in. But she couldn’t hold it in any longer and she just hoped her aching brain managed to blurt it in some sort of sensical order.

  ‘You pick a girl at the ball every year; someone you like. You use her for the year, and then pick someone new next year.’

  There! She’d said it. Not quite the ironclad argument she was hoping for, but her point was made nonetheless. She took a huge breath as if her lungs had been completely emptied of air. She had no idea how he would react, and she felt like a stampede of wild boars had just charged through her stomach. She certainly wasn’t expecting him to laugh. But his amusement was far from a relief; she didn’t find anything about his escapades remotely amusing - quite the opposite, actually.

  ‘Ms.Andrews, you underestimate me - how disappointing. No one girl has ever held my attention for an entire year before.’

  Christ, was he serious?

  Julian ran a lazy hand over his hair. His blatant refusal to even attempt to defend his chivalrous lifestyle was infuriating, but undeniably hot. She was doing it again. She was losing herself in his eyes, and things that were important just seconds ago, seemed trivial compared to how much she wanted him. Eva crossed her legs and tried to ignore the pulsing between them. She looked at the ground and pulled herself together- literally. She overlapped the light material of her oversized shirt and pulled it tight against her skin, hoping to banish the breeze from around her body. Her skin felt cold to the touch, but the heat of her temper kept her warm on the inside.

  ‘So, am I just a name on a long list?’ Eva asked quietly, embarrassed to state the obvious.

  ‘List? Jesus, Evangeline…do I look like I care about names and numbers?’

  Okay, so maybe a spreadsheet wasn’t his style, but he must have had some idea of all his past conquests.

  ‘I’m not that girl, Julian.’

  ‘What girl?’

  ‘You know, someone who is flattered because someone like you even looks in their direction.’

  Julian turned to face her for the first time. He slipped his hand between her thighs and she instinctively tightened them around his hand, trying not to let her face reveal how much she enjoyed his touch.

  ‘Not that girl! Really? Then why are you soaking wet?’

  There was nothing she could say. Maybe he really did know her better than she knew herself.

  ‘I know what I want. I always do, I want you.’

  ‘And what about when you want other girls?’

  ‘I haven’t mentioned other girls, Evangeline. It’s you who keeps bringing them up.’

  ‘Well yeah. I don’t want to share you with half the girls in work.’

  ‘Greedy, aren’t you,’ Julian smirked.

  ‘Julian stop it. I’m serious. I don’t know if I can get past all this crap. And if I can, then I don’t just want the title. I really do want to be the one. The one and only…’

  Julian pulled a face Eva hadn’t seen before. An odd mix of amusement and disdain dotted across his brow.

  ‘You know the rules, Evangeline.’

  ‘But they’re your rules, you said yourself you can change them if you want to. You just don’t want to.’

  Eva wanted him to argue back, but he didn’t. She wanted him to tell her it would all be fine, but he didn’t. He just watched her intensely. She knew the drill, she had no right to act precious now. But she couldn’t help it. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone in her life, ever. But the game wasn’t over. She could see that now. Julian would never stop playing; he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. It was him; he was the game.

  Julian leaned closer and Eva closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her. She waited and waited, but his lips didn’t touch hers.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Julian said softly, and Eva wasn’t sure if it was a suggestion or an order.

  Her eyes shot open and pleaded with him for an explanation.

  ‘I’m taking you home.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘You need space to think. I’m not pushing you into something you don’t one hundred percent want. I’m offering you this opportunity, but it’s up to you to decide if you want to take it or not. But I won’t wait forever for an answer. I’ll expect your decision first thing Monday morning.’

  Whoa! What in the hell just happened? She suddenly felt like she was spinning in circles. She didn’t want to have to make this decision. She couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough. Why did he always have to make everything so hard?

  ‘You say you don’t know who you are, but it’s only because you won’t let yourself be who you want to be. What a pity,’ Julian said.

  Eva’s jaw dropped, and anger rippled through her body like strong crosscurrents in an ocean of confusion. Was he already assuming what her decision would be? How dare he?

  She took three or four sharp, short breaths to calm herself and stood up. The game, she reminded herself. She’d start her decision-making right now. It was time to play. She placed one leg either side of his ankles and began unbuttoning her shirt.

  ‘One last fuck, Mr. Doe,’ she said, trembling from the rush of adrenaline as she forced herself to be confident.

  Julian’s eyes followed her fingers on the buttons, and he made a deep-throated groan of approval. ‘Touché, Ms. Andrews. Touché.’

  43

  Sunday was the strangest day. Julian had driven Eva back to her apartment himself. He’d given all his staff the weekend off, including Mrs. Cartwright. Who, much to Eva’s disappointment, had left the house before she had a chance to say goodbye.

  Julian parked his car near the main entrance to Eva’s apartment complex and Eva had felt obliged to invite him in. She secretly didn’t want their alone time to end. She’d tried to hide her disappointment when he declined and said his goodbyes while remaining behind the wheel. He did lean across to kiss her cheek for a split second, but his affection didn’t extend further.

  She was still wearing his shirt coupled with a pair of never-worn-before jodhpurs that Julian had found in the wardrobe of one of the many spare bedrooms. She wondered if they’d been bought as a gift for one of his past lovers, but she didn’t dare ask. She’d offered to wash and return his shirt, and he’d thanked her and made an effort to hide his laughing. And that was it; neither of them said another word. Julian waited until she stepped inside, but before she had time to turn around and wave good-bye, he’d driven away.

  She’d spent the rest of the afternoon opening and closing the fridge. She was hungry but not able to eat. She’d typed out a couple of emails to Julian but hadn’t hit send. She’d text Shelly repeatedly but hadn’t gotten a reply. She’d been expecting contact from Nathan, but even he appeared to be ignoring her. She felt so alone. Time ticked by so slowly that at one point, she’d had her suspicions it was going backwards.

  She woke up with a crick in her neck from falling asleep awkwardly on the lounge sofa, and although the thought of Monday morning made her feel sick, she was just glad it wasn’t the world’s longest Sunday anymore.

  The office was quieter than usual. Maybe a lot of people had taken the day off to nurse their lingering hangovers, she decided. She was sorry she hadn’t thought to do the same. Nathan wasn’t at his desk and she breathed a sigh of relief. Meghan was missing, too, and Eva began to feel the sense of foreboding in her gut ease just a fraction. Maybe today wouldn’t be quite the horror show she’d built it up to be in her head. Nonetheless, it was a test of her endurance. Making it to Julian’s office seemed like a painstaking hike up Everest, rather than just six floors in the lift.

  The people who were there whispered as she passed their desks, and some even pointed. No one overly tried to hide that they were gossiping. She couldn’t blame them, not really. She knew if she was in their position, she’d be fishing for all the juicy information, too. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it; in fact, it was rather nice to suddenly have a status. She wasn’t a nobody anymore. She just wished her status wasn’t synonymous with office scandal. She’
d had eleven friend requests on Facebook from names she recognised from internal emails, and someone had even tweeted a picture of her mask left behind on stage with the caption ‘the new it girl has expensive taste’. Eva knew it was obviously a reference to the pricey champagne her mask advertised. She wanted to defend herself and explain that elaborate taste, and outlandishly expensive beverages weren’t really her, but she decided against arguing her case in one hundred and forty characters on the internet.

  Shelly didn’t look up from stapling some paper when Eva approached her desk. Eva knew they weren’t documents of any consequence, like Shelly tried to pretend - she’d stapled the same corner at least five times. Eva’s heart felt like it had been pulled out of her chest and thrown into a washing machine on spin cycle. Was this how it would be from now on? They’d practiced awkwardly-pretending-not-to-see-each-other because it was easier than actually talking about the situation. Eva didn’t find it easier. She hated it. Eva wondered if she should just apologise and get it over with. She just wasn’t sure what she was saying sorry for. It wasn’t as if she’d stolen Julian. Shelly knew the score. She’d chosen to play the game. Okay, so there were no instructions and the rulebook seemed ever changing, but that was Julian - he was unpredictable, and he always came out the winner. Julian’s mood was the dice. And it was lucky for Eva that she was throwing sixes, and she reminded herself of that as she reached Shelly’s desk.

  ‘Mr. Doe will see you now,’ Shelly said, looking up, not quite crying but definite tears streaked across her pale blue eyes.

  ‘Seriously?’ This is how we’re doing it? Mr. Doe?’

  Shelly put down the pen she had taken to chewing. ‘Let’s be professional, if nothing else, okay?’

  Okay? Okay? No, it wasn’t fucking okay. They were friends, weren’t they? What was that cliché people always said? Don’t let a man fuck up your friendship, or something like that - Eva tried not to cringe thinking of the literal meaning.

  ‘Eva, you pissed off without even saying goodbye. I know you were caught up in the moment and all, but even he came back down. You didn’t even bother.’