by Lucy Wild
His face was just an inch from mine as I whispered, “What are you doing?”
“This,” he replied, kissing me a second later. As his lips brushed against mine, I felt every nerve inside me wake up. My lips were on fire from his touch and I wondered if I’d fallen asleep. Was I dreaming this? It couldn’t be real. Someone like that wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. Was this part of the game? Was that all I was to him? Just a plaything?
The questions fell away as his tongue slipped into my mouth. His hand snaked round my back, sliding down my dress until it found the bottom of my dress. He continued to embrace me as his fingers slipped under the fabric, stroking my back before he suddenly pulled himself away. “Not now,” he said, standing up and retrieving the key while I sat there floating above the ground, the feel of his hand still noticeable on my skin.
He unlocked the cuff, helping me to my feet, standing a little too close to me. Or not close enough, depending on how you look at it. “You should go,” he whispered, pulling the door open.
Game over, I thought as I looked out at the sleeping form of Zoe draped across the sofa.
“The limo is outside,” Cole whispered once we’d reached the hallway. “It’ll take you home.”
“I’d rather take a cab,” I replied. “Better get used to the real world again.” I found it hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice. It had been a goodbye kiss then, and perhaps one that he wasn’t supposed to give because he looked guilty as he opened the front door. “Goodbye, Cole,” I said, stepping out and not looking back. I couldn’t. If I did, he’d have seen me crying.
KARINA
“How did it go?” Holly asked before I was even through the front door.
“What are you doing still up?” I asked as I walked into the living room. “It’s three in the morning.”
“I couldn’t go to bed without finding out what happened to you, now, could I?” She smiled, tapping the sofa next to her. “Come on,” she continued, throwing half the blanket over me. “Tell me all about it.”
“Well, it went well, I guess.”
“That’s nowhere near enough detail. I want to know everything. Remember, I’m supposed to be writing an article about Game Inc.”
I told her about the club, about being auctioned on stage, dancing with Cole, The Birdhouse. Then I paused, trying to decide what to say about going to his house. In the end I told her about being locked in the play room but I didn’t tell her I chose to go in there, saying instead that he had made the decision for me. I also didn’t tell her about kissing him. That was just for me.
“Wow,” she said when I was finally finished. “It sounds like a hell of a game. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “It just seems unfinished somehow. I wasn’t expecting it to end like that.”
“Maybe it’s not over yet.”
“What do you mean? Of course it’s over.”
“I think you should go back to the club tomorrow night.”
“You’re not serious?”
“I’m deadly serious.”
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not who I am. I’m not some femme fatale, I’m me. I don’t go hunting for billionaires. I sit in the park and grumble about films.”
“Bullshit. You got into a private club, you went on stage, you danced. I’ve never seen you dance. You ended up in a mansion handcuffed in a play room straight out of fifty shades. You’re much braver than you think you are.”
“I’m not.”
“Damn it, Karina. If you don’t do this, I’ll bloody spank you.”
“I’ll think about it, all right? Now, I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”
“Get all the sleep you can, I get the feeling you won’t get much tomorrow night.”
I left her on the sofa, heading into my room and slipping out of the dress. I looked at my body in the mirror. What would Cole have thought if he’d seen it? I turned left and right. Would he like it? It was academic anyway because I wasn’t going back. It was hard enough walking away from him tonight. I’d only end up getting my heart broken if I went back.
No, it was better that things ended now, before I got too attached to him. He’d only been acting anyway. He wasn’t really interested in me.
I climbed into bed, closing my eyes and immediately his face was there. My lips tingled as if he was kissing me again. The memory was so strong. I dreamt of him that night.
The next morning I woke up to the sound of Holly singing down in the kitchen. I wrapped a dressing gown around me before descending the stairs, my nostrils assailed by the smell of bacon cooking. “I made you a sandwich,” she said when she saw me yawning in the doorway. “And a couple of letters came for you.”
“Really?” I asked, taking my seat and picking up the first envelope. “I wonder what this is.”
“If only there was some way of finding out,” Holly said, putting a plate down in front of me. “I guess it’ll have to remain a mystery forever.”
“Very funny,” I said, tearing the back of the envelope and unfolding the paper inside.
“Well?”
“Nothing exciting. Just the bank wanting money I haven’t got or they’ll charge me fees, meaning they’ll want even more money I haven’t got.”
“You should have asked your billionaire to lend you a bit.”
“He wasn’t really a billionaire, you do know that, don’t you? He was only acting a part.”
“Yeah, well you still should have asked. What’s the other one?”
“Dear Miss Browning, we are delighted to inform you that your painting, ‘Summer Mourning,’ has sold. The balance is ready for you to collect along with the paperwork you need to sign. Yours, L Vaughan.”
“You sold a painting!” Holly said, her hand in the air. “Don’t leave me hanging.”
I gave her a high five as she began tucking into her bacon sandwich. “I can’t believe I sold one,” I muttered.
“Eat up,” she replied, her mouth full of bread. “Before it gets cold.”
I picked up my sandwich but my mind was already wandering. Summer Mourning. That had been on sale for five hundred. It was a ridiculous price but someone had paid it. Someone had bought it. I felt a burst of pride inside me as I ate.
“I better get dressed and head down there,” I said when I was done. “Before they try and return it.”
“What about tonight?” Holly asked.
“What about tonight?”
“Are you going to go back to the club?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I should. The game was only supposed to last a day after all.”
“Yes but didn’t they say you were testing a new one. Maybe it’s still going on right now. Maybe I’m part of it? What if I am? Would you know if I’d been replaced by an actor?”
“Yes, they’d be able to sing better than you.”
She scowled before laughing. “At least I can dance.”
“Touché. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must visit my gallery to collect my funds so I can pay my bank charges. Like all the best artists do.”
“Seriously, Karina,” Holly said, collecting my empty plate. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Proud enough to do the washing up for me?”
“You’re a Bohemian artiste,” she replied with a smile. “You’re supposed to live in squalor and filth.”
“Leave it in the sink then,” I said before heading upstairs to get dressed.
KARINA
I FELT PRETTY GOOD WALKING to the gallery. The sun was out, there was no wind, not a cloud in the sky. I had my favourite summer dress on and I could almost forget the game I’d been playing. Almost.
The Springfield gallery was not too far from the train station but I had decided to walk because why not? The fresh air helped me clear my head as I did my best to move on from Cole Ford. I’d sold a painting. The thought made me smile. Someone had seen my
work and decided it was good enough to own. It didn’t happen very often. All I had to do was sell a few more and I might have enough money saved to look into renting somewhere. Totting up the figures in my head, my good mood began to fade. I’d have to sell more than a few to afford anything bigger than a shoe box.
I stopped to get a coffee on the way and arrived at the gallery just after eleven. Lisa was sitting at her desk in the corner, eyes fixed on her computer. I closed the door behind me and paused to look at some of the other works on display.
“Is that my little artist?” she shouted from her seat. “Come over here and let me congratulate you.”
Lisa was in her fifties, thin as a rake and dressed from head to toe in white. She had a huge pair of hooped earrings that caught the sun as she stood up and waved me over.
“So who bought it?” I asked as I walked over to her.
“I don’t know. Evie was watching for me. I was out getting my highlights done. What do you think?”
Her hair looked exactly the same as it always did. “They look lovely,” I said, watching a smile cross her lips. She sat back down and motioned for me to sit opposite her.
“Check or cash?” she asked, pulling open her desk drawer.
“Have they collected it yet? I wouldn’t mind seeing it one last time.”
“Couriered it to them first thing this morning.”
“Oh, never mind. Cash is fine if you have it.”
She pulled out a wad of banknotes and counted out five of them. “There you go,” she said. “Fifty crisp notes. Easy money.”
“Fifty?” But it was on sale for five hundred.”
“Ah, well I hear there was a bit of haggling by Evie about it. In the end it went for three fifty.”
“But that still leaves me three hundred down.”
“Don’t forget the gallery fees, and my commission, and the delivery costs.”
“But fifty barely covers my time, let alone the materials.”
Her smile faded, her eyes narrowing just a little. “You’re welcome to take your work elsewhere if you feel uncomfortable with how we do business here.”
“No,” I said with a sigh. “It’s just, I was expecting more than that.”
“And you’ll get more if you’re up for a job.”
“A job?” I asked as I picked up the notes in front of me.
“The buyer wants to commission you, said he liked the style of your work. He gave me an address to give to you, if you’re interested.”
“Commission me to do what?”
“Apparently, he wants a wall painted or something. Do you want the job or not? Apparently money is no object, you lucky thing.”
She slid a business card across to me and I looked at the address. Right in the middle of the city. I stood up. “Thanks, Lisa.”
“You keep on painting and we’ll do great together.”
I caught a cab into the city, giving him the address on the way. That was twenty of my fifty gone just paying for the cab. I hoped the commission would be worth it.
“Work or pleasure?” the driver asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Work or pleasure in the city.”
“Work, I guess.”
“Anything interesting?”
“I’ve been hired to paint something.”
“Walls of my house need painting. How much do you charge?”
“It’s not that kind of painting. I’m an artist.”
“Are you now? You famous then?”
“Not really.”
“I’ve had a few famous people in here, you know? There was that guy off the news, what’s his face. Then I had that woman who won that thing last year.”
It was impressive. He managed to reel off about a dozen people without remembering the name of any of them. I nodded politely, not sure who any of these famous people were.
Eventually, the cab pulled up by a set of gates and I glanced outside. “There must be some mistake,” I said. “Are you sure this is it?”
“GPS doesn’t lie,” the driver said, tapping buttons on the screen.
“Thanks,” I said, paying him before climbing out. I was back in front of a familiar building. Cole’s house.
I pushed open the gates and walked up the drive. Had he bought my painting? Why? Maybe Holly was right and this was just part of the game. Maybe it wasn’t over yet. Maybe I’d get my happy ending after all.
I knocked on the door and waited. It opened a few seconds later and the butler I’d seen last night appeared. “Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked, surprised to see him.
“I’m asleep now,” he replied with a wink before the merest flicker of a smile crossed his lips. “Won’t you come inside, Miss Browning? Mr Ford is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
“How apt,” I replied, passing inside and making my way along the corridor.
“This way,” the butler said, striding to get in front of me, leading the way around a corner towards the sound of classical music. I think it was Beethoven but I was no expert. It could have been Brahms, Burt Bacharach or Bon Jovi for all I knew.
I realised I was alone, the butler had vanished. The door in front of me was open and inside I found Cole was sitting by the window, his hand silently conducting the music, his eyes closed. I watched him for a second, looking at that face of his. It looked different in the daylight, warmer, less arrogant. Or perhaps he wasn’t acting anymore.
COLE
I OPENED MY EYES TO find her standing in the doorway, looking in at me. “Where’s Zoe?” she asked.
“Gone,” I replied, sitting up straight. “At last.”
“You’re not back together then?”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, I left you two here together last night. I just thought…”
“You thought wrong. She came here because she was drunk. I couldn’t throw her out until she’d sobered up so I let her sleep here and how did she repay me? By tearing a hole in my Monet.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
I smiled. “I wish it was, it would be cheaper to repair. And seeing as there was a gap on my wall I thought who better to fill it than an artist that I know.”
I pointed at the wall next to me and saw her face light up as she recognised her own painting up there. “You like it?” she asked, walking over to the painting and examining it closely. “You really like it?”
“I love it,” I replied. “The Monet might get relegated to one of the toilets.”
“Stop it!” she said but she was grinning even as she feigned anger.
“How are you?” I asked, motioning for her to come and sit down. She took the armchair by the bookcase, sitting perfectly upright with her hands on her knees, as if she was being interviewed.
“I’m good,” she said after a second’s pause. “You?”
“Glad you’re here.”
“Oh, really?”
“I need a painting done and I get the feeling you’re the perfect person for the job.”
“What kind of painting?”
“Come and see.”
I stood up and beckoned for her to follow me. We walked out into the hallway and then round the corner towards the back of the house. As I did so, there was a sudden thud behind me and all the lights went out. It came as quite a shock.
“What was that?” Karina asked, grabbing hold of my arm.
“A power cut,” I said just as the security shutters all slammed down over the windows. “And that was the alarm system doing its job.” I raised my voice. “Reginald!”
There was a knock from the back door and I marched over to it, trying to push it open but to no avail. “It’s a minor malfunction,” Reginald shouted through from outside. “Bear with me and I’ll soon have it sorted.”
“A minor malfunction?” I shouted back. “I’m locked in my own house and I can hardly see a thing.”
“Engineers are already on their way, Sir. Have you out in no time.”
“You better,” I s
napped before turning back to Karina who was smiling at me in the gloom. “What?”
“You’re claustrophobic,” she said, taking a step towards me.
“No I’m not.”
“Then why do you sound so stressed?”
“Because I don’t like it when things don’t work. I pay a lot of money for things to work when they’re meant to. If I can’t get an alarm that works, then what’s the point? I mean, really what is the point of a security system that locks me into my own house? It’s supposed to keep intruders out, not me in. It’s not acceptable.”
“All right,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, you know, it’s going to be fine.”
“What if it’s not fine? What if the shutters never go up and we just run out of air? We could, you know? Run out of air in a place like this. Can you feel it? Is it getting hot in here already?”
I loosened my tie as she moved her hand down to mine, squeezing it lightly. “Tell me about this commission,” she said softly.
“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to distract me from the fact that we’re trapped in here.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I can’t concentrate on that now.” I fanned my face, feeling the air getting thinner.
“Have you got any flashlights?” she asked.
“I think so. In the kitchen maybe.”
“Where’s that?”
“I’ll show you, this way.”
Her hand remained in mine as we walked along the dark corridor and round the corner to the kitchen. In the top drawer by the first cooker, there were a couple of flashlights. I passed her one before switching on my own. “That’s better,” she said with a smile. “Now you can show me where you want this painting done.”
“What? Right, of course. It’s not here. I’ve got a new place. Have you ever worked on a whole wall before?”
She shook her head. “What sort of thing did you have in mind?”
“Free rein.” I began pacing up and down. “It’s definitely getting too hot in here.”
“Take your jacket off then. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Right, good idea.” I did as she suggested, leaving it draped over the back of a stool. “I just need distracting, I think. I’ve never liked being trapped anywhere. When I was young, my father used to punish me by locking me in the basement. I hated it, I mean I really hated it.”