by Emma Tallon
‘Not a bad idea. What do you think, Tanya?’
She laughed again, amused at his open display. She pushed him back gently and freed herself from his arms. Placing her hand in his, she pulled him along further down the street.
‘Come on, let’s go back to mine. I can’t cook you breakfast in bed in a hotel room, can I?’ She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, playfully.
‘You make a good case, Miss Smith.’ He pretended to consider his options. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Sorted. And yeah, I should be able to free up the weekend. Anna’s on tomorrow night anyway. I was supposed to go through some stuff about the acts in the afternoon with her, but she probably won’t mind postponing till Sunday night.’
‘Or you could still go, bring me along and I can finally meet her?’ Daniel offered.
‘Oh! Yeah, that’s actually a pretty pukka idea,’ Tanya replied gleefully. ‘I’m sure they think I’m making you up, you know.’
‘Really? How could anyone possibly make up such an amazing character as me? What with my charisma and charm and utter godliness in be—ahh!’ Daniel darted out of the way as Tanya poked him in the sides.
‘What, and your girly ticklishness, eh?’ she teased. Her phone beeped in her pocket and she pulled it out to check who had messaged her. ‘Saved by the bell.’
‘Whatever, I’m not ticklish. Just thought I’d seen a crack in the pavement – didn’t want to risk falling into it, you know? Had to move.’
‘Sure you did,’ Tanya cackled, ‘you’re a modern day—’ Her voice trailed off and her smile disappeared. She stopped walking and swung round, looking back down the street.
‘What’s wrong? Tanya?’
A lump settled in the pit of her stomach as she frantically searched the crowded street with her eyes. It could be anyone, any of these people. Even if not, the sender could be hiding in a number of places. There were alleys and side streets all around them. Parked cars with dark windows, flats above bars with wide viewpoints. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on acting normally. She wasn’t going to let whoever it was know that they had rattled her cage.
‘It’s nothing. Just thought I heard someone call my name, that’s all. Must’ve heard wrong.’ She forced herself to smile and turn back to face the way they were walking. Daniel didn’t notice the strain in her face or that her wide smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
‘Oh right. I get that all the time. With such a common name, there’s always someone shouting it out.’
‘Well, there had to be something common about you, posh boy,’ Tanya joked. She ran her hand through her hair and used the movement to mask another quick glance back.
‘Right, wait here – I’ll get us a cab.’ Daniel touched her arm briefly then walked out into the road. He focused on the oncoming traffic, looking for a taxi with its light on.
Checking that he was still occupied, Tanya pulled the phone back out of her pocket and read the message again.
I’m watching you, whore.
Pursing her lips, she clicked off the screen. She shivered, despite the warmth of the summer evening. She needed to ask Anna if Freddie had had time to check this number. Battling the urge to send a reply, she slipped the phone back into her pocket. There was no point. Her last text had received no response. Until she knew what she was dealing with, she would maintain silence. There was no point starting a fight with a ghost.
‘Tanya? Come on, let’s go.’ Daniel opened the door to the taxi and ushered her inside before joining her.
Tanya snuggled up to him in the chair and pushed the text to the back of her mind. Whoever this keyboard warrior was, they could wait until tomorrow. They did not get to ruin her Friday night.
29
Michael walked into Ruby Ten and headed straight for the end of the bar where he could see Dean already waiting for him. He sat down on the bar stool that Dean had kept empty and greeted the other man warmly.
‘Deano, how are ya, mate? What’s ’appening?’
‘Michael, I’m good; I’m good. What you drinking?’
Michael lifted up his hand to get the barmaid’s attention. She immediately stopped serving the waiting crowd of customers to their loud dismay and took herself over to Michael.
‘What can I get you, Michael?’ she asked brightly.
‘Whisky and Coke – the good stuff – and whatever Dean wants.’
‘I’ll have the same, cheers.’
She went off to get their order, and Michael turned back to Dean, unbuttoning his suit jacket now that he had sat down.
‘So how did things go with Viktor?’
‘Fine. For me anyway. Picked him up easy enough. Those men of his don’t pay very close attention to their jobs. Sloppy, the lot of them.’ Dean shook his head in disgust. ‘I took Viktor for a little chat. He broke quickly. No balls under the bullshit after all. Did his arm in, dropped him back last night where we found him. Shouldn’t be any more trouble.’
‘Great. That’s perfect, mate.’ Michael patted him on the arm, then reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. ‘Freddie says thanks.’ He slipped it across the bar and Dean took it, putting it straight into his own pocket. He wouldn’t count it in front of Michael – that would be an insult. Plus, he knew it would all be there anyway. Freddie was a good businessman and a fair boss. He never shorted anyone.
The barmaid returned with their drinks and disappeared back to the waiting punters. Before Michael had taken a sip, his phone beeped. It was a message from Paul.
Not going to make drinks tonight. Crack on, I’ll see you tomorrow.
Michael tutted in annoyance and shoved the phone back in his pocket. His face clouded over into a dark expression. This was the third time in as many weeks that Paul had cancelled on him. The three brothers had busy, highly stressed lives. Winding down with drinks together whenever they could was something they did to help themselves transition from work mode to personal life. Michael in particular counted on this after a heavy day. Unlike Freddie, he didn’t have a partner to unburden to, and he didn’t have his brother Paul’s easy-going ability to shake things off.
‘You OK, mate?’ Dean asked.
‘Yeah, fine.’ He didn’t offer any more, and Dean didn’t ask. If Michael wanted to talk, he would.
‘OK. Well, I’d best be off. Catch you later, yeah?’ Dean downed the last of his drink and headed through the throng of people on the dance floor towards the exit.
Michael sighed and indicated to the barmaid that he wanted a refill. Scanning the crowd while he waited, he observed all the groups of people dancing and having fun. His gaze paused on a group of young men at the VIP table. He could hear their laughter over the music as one of them made a joke. The floppy hair and subtle designer clothing, along with their haughty looks, showed them for what they were. Posh wankers splashing cash that they didn’t earn, in order to gain respect they didn’t deserve, from people who knew no better. Michael narrowed his eyes. People like them only came here to stroke their own egos and look down on the normal people they saw as beneath them. His fist tightened and he clenched his jaw.
Michael earned everything he had; he earned the respect he was accorded and the money that paid for his lifestyle. The memory of the boys who made his life hell at school flashed through his mind. No one would ever make him feel like that again.
Looking away, Michael noticed a familiar bunch of girls on the dance floor, and he recognised one of them immediately. It was Carla from the massage parlour in Soho. He studied her, interested in how she was here in her natural form. She smiled and laughed easily, enjoying the music. She rocked her body back and forth. Her eyes closed, she pulled her hair up and away from her neck. She looked happy, relaxed.
Shifting round to face her fully he settled in to watch. She would be a good distraction. Carla’s silky golden hair slid through her fingers, back onto her shoulders again. He liked her hair. It was always shiny and smelled fresh.
The song changed and Carla opened he
r eyes. Her mouth curled into a smile as she swayed from side to side. Obviously one she liked a lot. The next one was clearly not a favourite, as she stopped dancing and moved to pick up her drink. She turned and leaned back on the table, sipping through her straw and watching her friends. Her eyes wandered and eventually met Michael’s. A millisecond passed, recognition dawned and a warm grin spread across her face. She immediately tottered over to him.
‘Well, fancy seeing you ’ere!’ She greeted him with a hug and a flirty kiss on the cheek. ‘’Aving a good night?’
‘I am now,’ he answered with a smile, putting his arm around her waist. She giggled and pushed up against him.
‘What about you? Having fun?’ He motioned towards her group of friends.
She glanced back at them. ‘Yeah, it’s been a good laugh. Not seen you in here before.’
‘I’m usually pretty busy this time of night.’
‘Yeah I bet.’ She bit her lip. ‘So, you busy now then?’
‘No, not particularly. Last-minute cancellation.’
‘Well’ – Carla tilted her head to the side alluringly – ‘maybe I could help fill up your time. If you fancied it.’ She winked with a full set of perfectly positioned false eyelashes.
Michael pondered on the offer for a moment. He was interested. He had only really been with Carla in the massage parlour before. It could be fun to have her to himself for a little while, and he was free tonight. He didn’t have to meet Freddie until the next day.
‘You want to come with me?’ he questioned her, making sure he was reading her words correctly. He didn’t fancy staying here and joining her group of friends.
‘Yeah,’ she replied.
‘Alright. Go tell your friends you’re leaving,’ Michael said.
He waited while she gave her friends a quick explanation and picked up her small clutch bag. As soon as she returned he steered her towards the door and out of the building to grab a cab.
30
The cab pulled up outside a high-rise building in Shadwell, and Michael and Carla stepped out. Michael paid the cabby and tapped in the entrance code to the door. The buzzer sounded and the door clicked open.
‘Not many people know that I have this place. Only Freddie and Paul and my sister.’ He walked into the lift and pressed the button for the top floor. Carla looked around with interest. ‘So this is to stay between us.’
Carla nodded her understanding. He knew she would do as he asked. She knew the score.
‘I bought this flat ages ago. But… me old mum never took very well to my brothers moving out, so I still spend at least half my nights at hers, and she don’t know about here. She thinks I live there with her, and I still get a decent amount of time in my own space. So it’s a win-win situation. Saves the aggro.’
Carla laughed. ‘Well, I think that’s really nice actually. You’re sweet.’
‘Mm.’ Michael tensed and gave her a sideways look. ‘So are poisoned apples.’ His voice was loaded.
‘Oh.’ Carla’s smile faltered. ‘What a funny thing to say.’
‘So is calling me sweet. Don’t mistake me for something I ain’t. I’m a Tyler.’
The lift filled with tension as Michael’s eyes bored into her. Carla wasn’t sure what to say. Calling him sweet was clearly a big mistake.
Suddenly a loud ping sounded, making Carla jump, and the door opened onto the top floor. The tension evaporated as quickly as it had gathered. Michael walked out of the lift and fumbled in his pocket for the keys. Carla swallowed and followed him to the front door of his flat, shaking off the strange feeling.
Opening the door, Michael walked in and stepped to the side to allow her to enter. They walked into a large, open room – clearly the main room. The walls and carpet were light grey with the occasional black-and-white abstract painting hung on the walls. There was a black leather sofa and two matching chairs surrounding a glass coffee table. It reminded her of something you might find in a plush office; it didn’t look comfortable to her at all. There were no cushions and no ornaments on the coffee table. It looked like a very cold, clean showroom.
Behind the lounge area there was a glass dining table and six high-backed chairs. Michael hung his jacket on the back of one of these. Aware of Michael’s finicky OCD ways, Carla followed suit and hung hers on the chair next to the one he had chosen.
‘Want the grand tour?’ Michael asked, his easy smile back in place.
Carla relaxed. ‘Yeah, go on then.’
‘Kitchen’s this way.’ Michael took her round to the right, almost back on themselves, and she noticed that the room was bigger than she had originally thought. The kitchen was recessed much further than the front door. It was all open-plan. The stainless-steel pots and pans that hung above the pristine cooker looked as though they had never been used. They probably never had, she reasoned. There was a breakfast bar with stools, and on the worktop was a large fruit bowl with some spare keys and a couple of apples in it. She was glad to see this tiny smidgen of evidence that there was life in this flat after all. It seemed so barren otherwise.
‘That room over there is my office. That’s out of bounds – you’re to stay out of there.’ Michael pointed towards a closed door and moved swiftly on. ‘This is the bedroom.’ He opened this door and she peeked inside. The masculine grey, white and black theme seemed to run throughout the whole flat. Still, the bed looked large and comfortable. A grin crept up on her face, and she turned her body towards Michael. Running her hands up his torso she began to unbutton his shirt.
‘Well, I can think of a few things we can do in that room.’
Michael stopped her hands with his own as she reached for the third button.
‘Later. First come in here.’ He opened another door to the bathroom and pushed her gently into it. ‘Get undressed,’ he ordered.
Stumbling backward into the room, Carla steadied herself, and, turning towards the sink, began to do as he had asked. She slid the skimpy dress off her body, shimmying her bottom from side to side as she pulled her thong down with it. They fell to the ground, and she stepped out of the small pile of clothes, her stiletto heels click-clacking on the marble floor tiles. Using one finger, she pulled the slim back straps of her shoes down and stepped out of those too. Now she was fully naked. She took a quick peek in the mirror in front of her at Michael. He was turning the taps on in the large walk-in rainforest shower.
Carla bent down and picked up her clothes and shoes. Dumping the shoes next to the sink she hurriedly folded the dress and thong, making sure to do it neatly. She placed them on the edge of the sink unit and then propped the shoes on top. Dropping her arms to her sides, she leaned against the towel rail and waited for Michael. She wasn’t sure what mood he was in tonight. Something about him seemed agitated and unpredictable. It made her feel slightly uneasy, but there was nothing she could do about that now. It wasn’t like she could walk out on a Tyler.
She had thought this would be a bit of fun when she’d first seen him in the club. She’d had a lot to drink tonight for her friend Tina’s birthday. She’d downed far too many tequila shots, that was for sure. Bloody Tina, she thought. She’d let her guard down; her instincts weren’t quite as sharp as usual. When she saw Michael all that came to mind initially was how fit he was. Fit and rich and powerful; a heady combination. She fancied having a bit of him just for fun, for once. It was only in the lift, however, that she had been sharply reminded what a control freak he was and of his odd ways. She felt fully sober now and had her work head firmly back on her shoulders. Tonight would still be a freebie – that was fair enough. She had started things, after all. But she would make sure to keep him happy and leave him satisfied above feeding her own pleasure. Maybe it would still be enjoyable after all, even if he was a bit of a strange one.
Michael walked over to Carla and let her undress him, like she did in the parlour sometimes. She folded each item perfectly and he began to relax a little. When she finished he took her hands before she co
uld touch his body.
‘Get in the shower. You’ve been dancing and sweating in the club. I like you clean. Go on, get in,’ he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
Carla looked slightly surprised but got in without a word. Michael picked up a hard sponge loofah and covered it with soap. Turning Carla away from him he grabbed the back of her shoulder and pushed her forward directly under the water flow. She gasped at the sudden hot water but steadied herself. She trembled slightly. This felt strange. Michael wasn’t full of lust and focused on getting his cock off, like most of her punters would be at this point. He seemed cold – detached and mechanical somehow.
He grasped the loofah tightly with his other hand and with clear purpose pushed it down on her back, scrubbing across her skin as hard as he could.
Carla let out a small exclamation of pain and then bit hard into her lip to silence herself. The loofah scraped harshly across, again and again, feeling like it was shredding the skin from her very body.
Michael watched the raw, red patch spread across her skin where he scrubbed. It made him feel good. He felt the tension trickle away out of his body as he methodically disposed of every single germ and microscopic piece of dirt on Carla’s body.
Silent tears began to fall from Carla’s face and blend into the shower water, as she began to seriously regret her decision to leave the club with Michael Tyler.
Sunlight crept through a chink in the curtains, waking Carla. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes and looked around, trying to get her bearings. She hadn’t meant to stay the night, but she must have fallen asleep. After scrubbing her raw, Michael had led her to the bedroom where they had stayed up for many passionate hours. To Carla’s surprise, she had actually really enjoyed herself too. It seemed that once Michael had got his frantic need to clean her out of his system, he had relaxed back into a more normal person. Perhaps she had been wrong about him, after all. She smiled lazily, recalling their activities.