by Louise Bay
I rested my chin on his chest and gazed at him. “I’m the alcoholic. You can’t make me drink or stop me from drinking. That’s all me. But what’s between us is new, so I need to just make sure I’m working my program.”
“Do you have a sponsor and stuff?”
I smiled at him. “Sure. I went for a meeting today after I left the studio. My sponsor’s in London, and I check in with her. I’m not newly sober; I just need to make sure I don’t get complacent.”
He smoothed the hair from my face. “Do you mind talking about it?”
“With some people, maybe, but not you.” Because I’d already told him the most intimate thing about me, the first time we met, it had laid a foundation that made it easy to talk to him, easy to be honest. “It’s not like I go around with a placard saying I’m an alcoholic—my life is not my alcoholism. Not now.” I wanted him to know that I wasn’t weak and fragile. Overcoming alcoholism had given me strength.
“WCIL asking me to do this show means the last four years haven’t just been about getting sober. Does that make sense?”
“I get that,” he said, stroking the hair from my face. “Were you always an alcoholic? What caused it?”
I liked that he was asking questions, that he wasn’t afraid of the intimacy it would create.
“I’m not sure it was the cause—I think the disease has always been in me—but I started to drink when my mother died, then I had an asshole boyfriend and I just tumbled into a cycle of feeling terrible and drinking to feel better, and then drinking so much I felt terrible, so I drank more to make that go away.” My stomach twisted at the memory of those dark times. They felt like a lifetime ago.
“What made you get help?”
“Jake.” I blinked to try to stem the flow of tears. “He brought me to London, told me he loved me and wanted to have his sister back.” I smiled, trying to stop from descending into an ugly cry. I was just so grateful that my brother cared so much.
Dylan stroked his thumb across my cheekbone.
“He took me to a meeting the next day and waited outside. I think he thought I was going to skip town if he left me.” I smiled. “But I didn’t. I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to be happy. And that’s what keeps me sober. I want to be happy.”
He trailed his knuckles between my breasts and over my stomach. “I think you’re very brave.”
“I think I’m very lucky. Lucky to have Jake and lucky that my life never got to the point of no return. Nothing happened that I couldn’t fix. I see some people come in to meetings and they’ve lost everything—their families, their jobs, their homes. I was saved before I ever got that far.”
“And the asshole that you dated, what happened to him?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he’s still an asshole. Actually, Jake’s wife dated him. They went out twice. It’s a long story. But Jake ended up punching him in front of her.” I laughed. “He’d been waiting for an opportunity to do that for a while.”
“Double win.” He smiled.
“Right.”
“And he broke your heart?” he asked.
I thought about it. “Looking back, it’s hard to tell. I would have said yes, definitely, if you’d asked me straight after it happened. But I’m not sure he did break my heart. After him, I stopped trusting people, stopped trusting myself to know what was best for me. He took my power away. I think I’m still getting that back.”
He stroked my fingers splayed across his chest.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better.” His brow furrowed.
I trailed my fingers over his lips. “You’re used to solving problems.”
“I guess.”
“I don’t want you to fix me. Just be with me. Be real with me.”
He nodded. “Should I put my boxing gloves on when I meet your brother?”
My stomach flipped in the most delicious way. I wasn’t sure how Jake would react to meeting Dylan, but it sounded like Dylan wanted to find out. He was thinking about our future. Part of me shone with excitement, but there was still a part that wasn’t quite ready to let Dylan into my life in London.
Dylan
My days had become longer since Beth had left for London. I wanted to get as much done as possible so we could spend the time she had away from the studio together.
My phone vibrated on the desk in my office; the number wasn’t familiar.
“James,” I answered.
“Dylan, it’s me.” I froze. “Alicia.”
I hadn’t thought about the email she’d sent me since I’d deleted it, so I was shocked to hear from her. I hadn’t heard her voice in years, not since I caught her cheating on me with her now husband.
“It’s been so long since we spoke. How are you?”
I took a deep breath; was she attempting to make small talk with me? “What do you want, Alicia?”
“Hey, is that the way you greet an old friend?”
Was she serious?
I’d always found her so charming. However much she did things that would burn and sting, she was always able to talk her way out of it, convince me that I’d misunderstood her intentions.
“I wondered if I could buy you lunch? Or dinner?”
I winced. What was she plotting? With my cell tucked under my chin, I Googled her husband—a wealthy, not to mention elderly, Chicago entrepreneur. They had married shortly after I’d discovered their affair—good business, she’d called it. Perhaps he had died.
“How did you get this number?”
From time to time, I wondered if she’d kept track of my career. My wealth now far exceeded her husband’s.
“Oh, Dylan, I have my ways. You must remember that I can be very persuasive if I set my mind to it.”
I ended the call. I didn’t need her bullshit.
She called back and I put my phone on silent, turning it face down so I wouldn’t even have the distraction of the flashing screen.
What the hell was Alicia calling for? I glanced back at my search results and scrolled down. It looked like her husband was having some financial difficulties—maybe she was looking to trade up again. The recession had been brutal. Raf and I were cautious investors, careful to ensure that we never got pulled into bidding wars with investors, but the economy had taken a lot of casualties.
Raf crashed into the office. “We just got regulatory approval on the Redux transaction.” He was panting.
“Fucking great.” We’d never done anything in the sector before so we’d been told that approval was by no means a certainty. “I knew we’d get it.”
Raf stalked over to my desk and held out his hand. “You were right, my friend.”
“As usual.” I winked at him.
“Okay, don’t be an asshole about it.” Raf slunk into one of the chairs opposite my desk.
I chuckled. “Guess who just called me,” I said. “Alicia.”
“Are you fucking serious, dude? Have you spoken to her since that shit went down when you split?”
I shook my head. “Nope, never even laid eyes on her. She emailed me a week or so back, but I just deleted it.”
“What did she want?”
“No idea. I hung up on her.”
“Wow. I mean, you were cut up about her. I’m not sure you’ve ever been the same. Would you go back there?”
Beth’s beautiful smile came to mind. I still hadn’t told Raf—or anyone else—about her. I liked that we were wrapped up in a bubble, just the two of us, but perhaps it was time. “Not if my dick depended on it. And anyway, I’m seeing someone.”
“You mean you’re fucking someone.”
“Well, we’re definitely doing that, but we’re also dating. In fact, she’s coming to the gala on Friday.” The corners of my mouth twitched. I couldn’t wait to have her on my arm.
“And why am I just hearing about this now?”
“Because, unlike you, I don’t like to over share. Which unfortunate girl are you bringing to the gala?”
He rolled his eyes. “Christ, I hat
e the drama. Christie threw a vase at me last night. I didn’t even know I owned a vase.”
“Christie’s the Art History major?”
Raf looked at me as if I was stupid. “No, that was Tasha, and weeks ago. Do you listen to anything I tell you?”
“I try not to.”
Raf ignored me. “Christie’s the one who looks like Gisele ten years ago.” I shrugged. “Anyway, she’s a maniac. I think I’m going stag on Friday. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
I chuckled. “You were too old to be chasing girls five years ago. You need to try a woman. Someone who has her shit together.”
“Are you really giving me relationship advice? You haven’t gotten laid for a decade before this mystery chick came along.”
“Her name’s Beth—and if you call her a chick I’ll miscalculate your quarterly dividend on purpose—and I was having plenty of fun before her, but I never chased. I never had to.”
Raf pushed his hands onto the chair arms and stood. “You’re an asshole. I hope you marry her, then she divorces you and takes all your money.”
“Love you, bro.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I picked up my phone. Four missed calls, all from the same number. I also had five texts. Hoping they were from Beth and not Alicia, I opened the first one.
Alicia: Seriously Dylan, I have a business proposition for you. I think we should talk.
Business? She’d probably suggest marriage. That was how she approached relationships.
Alicia: I’m just suggesting lunch. If you don’t like what I have to say then you never have to see me again.
Alicia: I really miss what we had. It was so simple and you were so good to me.
Jesus, did she think I’d fall for this shit? What we’d had was anything but simple. Looking back, everything had seemed strategic where Alicia was concerned.
Alicia: I really need your help. Please. You’re the only one I can turn to.
There were plenty of rich men in Chicago, others who would be taken in by her.
Alicia: I’ll email you my proposal.
I took a deep breath, deleted her texts and dialed Beth.
“Hey,” she answered. “How come you’re calling me in the middle of the day?”
My MO was to call Beth before work, and then after if it wasn’t too late. We spoke most days and I’d gotten to know her routine. We were four thousand miles apart, but somehow I felt closer to her than ever.
“I just needed to hear your voice.” I wanted to neutralize Alicia’s poison by talking to Beth. “Am I interrupting?”
“No. It’s always good to hear from you, and I’m just baking.”
“Of course you are.”
She laughed. “Yes, I suppose I do it a lot. How’s your day.”
“Good and bad. Weird.”
“That sounds intriguing.” The scrape of utensils against metal clattered down the phone. “Tell me.”
“Well, we got regulatory approval on Redux.”
“Congratulations. That’s the pharma company in England, right?”
“Yeah.” I grinned. Our worlds had begun to mix together as I got to hear about her day and I shared mine. I’d forgotten how comforting it could be. “And then my ex called, which was the bad and the weird.”
“Alicia? I didn’t realize you were in touch.”
“We’re not. I haven’t spoken to her since we split.”
The clattering at the other end of the phone went silent. “What did she want?”
“She suggested lunch. I hung up.”
“You hung up?”
“Yes, I don’t want to speak to her. I have nothing to say, and I’m sure she’s got nothing I want to hear.”
“Perhaps she wanted to apologize, set things right? Maybe she was offering you both closure.”
“I’m pretty sure whatever she was doing, it was entirely to benefit Alicia. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about you. What are you making?” Images of Beth naked except for high heels and an apron sprung to mind.
“Hmmm, I’m not sure I should say.”
“Hey, I thought we said no secrets.”
“Chocolate mousse. It’s a current favorite of mine,” she confessed.
“Is that right? I’m quite fond of that dessert myself.” I grinned. “What are you wearing?”
She laughed. “I always bake naked. Apart from my heels and a short, frilly apron, of course.”
I groaned and palmed my twitching cock through my pants. “I wish I was there.”
“I’m going to see you tomorrow; we can make up for some lost time. Unless you’re busy?”
“I’ll make time for you. Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay at my place?”
“I’m not saying never, Dylan, just not this time. We’ll see plenty of each other. I’m staying a week this time.”
“I hope to see all of you.”
She laughed. I was serious. If I thought she’d let me, I’d keep her naked for her entire trip.
“Perhaps I should cancel the gala,” I said. I didn’t want to share her.
“You can’t do that. You’re a patron. Unless …”
“Unless what?”
“Well, we’ve just started dating. Maybe it’s too early to—”
“It’s not too early to anything. I told Raf that you were coming with me.”
“You did?” I didn’t understand why she was surprised but she sounded happy, which made me happy.
“Sure, we’re exclusively dating; why wouldn’t I tell people?”
I ran my finger round the inside of my collar. “Okay, you’re not saying anything. What are you thinking?”
“Ummm, I’m thinking I’m glad we’re exclusively dating.”
I grinned. “Well I’m pleased that you are.”
She laughed. “Perhaps I should tell my brother.”
“You’ve not told him?” This conversation was long overdue. We needed to be on the same page with stuff like this.
“I’ve talked to Haven and Ash.”
Well, that was something. Her sister-in-law and her kinda sister-in-law seemed to be her closest girlfriends, so at least she’d told them.
“What’s stopping you from telling Jake?” She wasn’t dating anyone else and neither was I, but she hadn’t told her brother despite the fact that they were close. Was she having doubts?
“Nothing. He’s been telling me to date for a while now, so the general concept isn’t a problem. I guess I don’t want him to worry, and I think he’ll want to meet you when I tell him and I don’t know—”
“Okay, well, we can do that.”
“You think? I mean, the family thing, can’t we just skip it? If you ran into each other that would be one thing, but an introduction? It all seems a bit … over the top.”
“I want to meet your brother, Beth. Everyone who’s important to you. Don’t let this be a big deal. I’m not going to ask him if I can propose.” Though it was a big deal. I’d not met a girlfriend’s family since I’d asked Alicia’s father if I could marry her.
“Okay. I’ll tell him, but I’m warning you, he’ll want to meet you properly.” I could hear her smile, even from four thousand miles away. I wished she were closer.
“Good. I have plans for our weekend, so bring some outdoor clothes.”
“Outdoor clothes?”
“You know, stuff you can go outside in?”
“Yeah, thanks, genius. I understand what you’re saying, but why?”
I laughed. “Because I want to show you something.”
“But the things I want to see are indoors where clothes are optional.”
I shook my head. She was the perfect balance between sweetness and joy, sexy and dirty. “I think we can do both.”
I couldn’t wait to prove it.
Beth
I woke from a dream about lemon curd, shortbread and poppy seeds. I reached for the switch on the side of my chair that tilted it back up to a sitting position
and I grabbed my notebook from the pocket to my side. I scribbled down some notes, then peeked over my shoulder and out the window.
My stomach tumbled, and I grinned.
I’d never enjoyed landings, but now my excitement at being stateside was threatening to bubble over as I willed the plane to the ground as fast as possible. I’d never been so enthusiastic to go back to the place I grew up.
Since my last trip to Chicago I’d returned to London, barely dating someone, and yet, here I was, going back to Chicago to see my boyfriend.
I’d resisted his numerous attempts to get me to stay with him. Moving quickly was one thing, but I wanted a life jacket to cling on to as I got swept down the river.
With Louis I’d moved in with him after our third date, and I’d become completely dependent very quickly. I was a different person now, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t fall into old patterns. Dylan and I could spend time together without me being a guest in his house.
Haven and I had gone shopping for a suitable dress for Friday’s gala, and we’d picked something that I thought Dylan would like. I was pretty sure he’d be okay with anything I chose, but as he’d told me I had the best ass in the universe, I wanted to make sure I had a dress that showed it off.
As soon as we were landed, I scrambled off the plane, texting Dylan on the way to immigration.
Beth: I just landed. See you later.
Dylan: I have the live arrivals board for O’Hare open on my laptop. I’m sorry I’m not there to meet you.
Beth: Make it up to me later.
I’d rather he finished his work so we could have the whole evening together than stop to collect me, then have to go back to the office. Once I was with him, I knew I wouldn’t want to let him go.
Dylan: It will be my pleasure.
An image of him licking my breast flashed into my mind.
Beth: I was hoping it would be mine.
Dylan: I’ll make sure it is.
It was a promise I knew he could deliver on.
At checkin, I was greeted by name. Clearly, I was spending far too much time here.
“You’re in 1204 again, Miss Harrison. Roger will take your bags up for you.”
“Thank you. I’m fine to take my own.” As much as I didn’t want Roger missing out on a tip, I didn’t want to have to wait on my suitcase.
I headed to the elevator and pressed the up button, glancing across at the bar where Dylan and I had sat when we were last here.