time I was thinking it was a crazy guy who’d found me, when in fact it was a fucking psycho who was
wanking off in my bed. My God!
“Right. Here’s my card.” He places it on the coffee table and briskly packs away his things. “Thank
you for you cooperation Miss Parker, Mr. Stone. If anything else should occur to you, please give me a
call.” He heads towards the door and Lester shows him out and stays out. He has good reason to.
I step out of my shoes and throw them into my bedroom in a steaming temper. Ayden is pouring
wine.
“Do you want this or should I wait until you’ve calmed down?”
Don’t you arch your brows at me!
I stomp over to him and snatch the glass from his hand, and throw back half of its contents. I place
it softly onto the tablecloth and prepare to let loose. “You knew? You fucking knew and you didn’t tell
me? You kept me locked up in your house like a prisoner all this time?” I take another couple of
gulps. “You even made me lie to him. He could have investigated my case and caught him, but no, you
made me lie.” I continue to stomp around the room throwing accusations at him, cursing him, letting
off steam.
When I’m too exhausted to say anymore, I fall back onto the sofa like a heap of un-ironed clothes.
“It’s a pity he didn’t jerk off on here. I might have got a new sofa,” I say sarcastically.
Ayden’s mouth lifts on one side but he holds off on a smile. “Are you done?”
I nod my head and lower it, embarrassed by my outburst.
“Come and eat something.” He ushers me to the table and I trundle over, my head down, repentant,
like a badly behaved child. He lifts my chin and I look up at him with eyes that still shine with some
of the foolishness leftover from my tantrum.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he muses, straightening my tousled hair and gazing into my eyes.
“And there I was thinking my little genie was meek and mild.”
I’m happy to take in his stunning visage. “I never said I was meek and mild. You’ve chosen to see
me that way.”
“Then the fault is mine. Rest assured, I won’t make that mistake again Miss Parker.” He rubs my
nose with his. “For all your shouting, you’re still as sexy as fuck!”
The softness of his kiss on my smiling lips, is just the right side of forgive me to make everything
better again. Minus my shoes, I’m a good six inches shorter than him and from this vantage point I get
to see him from a different angle. Leaning back, I notice for the first time the length of his eyelashes
and the shape of his chin as it angles perfectly into his neck. I rest my head against his heart and wrap
my arms around him, the way I do when I want to feel safe and protected. He offers me that without
asking why.
“All I seem to be saying these days is thank you. You’ve given me so much and I can’t seem to
find the words. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it.”
He pushes me back and takes hold of my hands. “I know Beth and I’m sorry I didn’t have the
courage to tell you. I thought it would break your heart.” He looks around the apartment. “This is your
home. It’s clean now, back to how it was. And … I asked you to say nothing because I already have
my people looking into what happened and, believe me, they’ll get the bastard a whole lot quicker that
Detective Inspector Bowker.” He nods towards the table. “Now can we eat, because I’m famished?”
“Yes, what have you ordered?”
“Wait and see, it’s a sur …” I hold up my hand to stop him finishing the word.
“Please Ayden, just tell me. I don’t think I can take any more surprises today …”
It’s 8.30p.m. I’m sitting in the back seat of Ayden’s silver Rolls Royce, dressed to kill and dying a
little inside with every passing mile. Charlie chose my outfit and I must thank her when I see her.
Could she have chosen anything more tightfitting or short? The answer is no.
It has taken me twenty minutes to complete the ensemble. Thanks to her, I’m clad in a black leather
skirt and fitted bodice, with over-knee boots and wearing a cape. I’m Bat Girl! Where the hell does
she get these outfits?
I’m mindful of the fact that I’m going to this party alone; there will be mutual friends, male
friends, and this is not the kind of outfit that says stay away. In one respect I’m grateful Ayden won’t
be attending. He has a jealous streak as wide as the Atlantic Ocean and that would be tested to the
absolute limit tonight. Maybe it’s for the best.
When we reach Docklands, Charlie’s party is well underway. Even from street level her eighth floor
apartment is well lit and the sound of popular hits reverberates across the Thames and into the night. I
prepare to step out of the Rolls, refusing to look at Lester. I’ve suffered the silent censorship of his
disapproving eyes once tonight, I don’t think my self-confidence will withstand it again.
“Miss Parker.” Even the way he says my name makes my skin itch.
For a moment I pause before pressing the security buzzer and look back. “Will you collect me at
11.30?”
“Of course and Mr. Stone asked me to stress that you do not leave the party unescorted.”
I bet he did …
“Alright. I won’t. Where the hell am I going to go dressed like this anyway?” I ask, shrugging my
shoulder.
“I’ll be here at 11.30 Miss Parker.” And that’s how you end a conversation.
He watches me get into the lift until the door closes. Eight floors up and the noise hits me; the door
to Charlie’s apartment is almost bowing with the bass sounds bouncing off it. I push it open and step
inside, feeling overwhelmed by this level of sound and activity.
I emerge like a black shadow, blinking into the flashing kaleidoscope of colours circling the room.
In every corner uplighters are beaming shapes and fluorescent hues into the ceiling. Along one wall a
projector is playing videos and in the next room, a drinks fountain is overflowing with some weird and
wonderful potion that will have me flat on my back after a single glass. I spot Charlie and she runs
over.
“Beth. You’re here.” She stands back to give me the once over. “Look at you!”
I hug her and can’t help but reflect her contagious smile; she’s having a great time. “It’s amazing.
You’ve gone all out.” I’m having to shout above the music. “You look great. Thanks for the outfit.” I
brush my hands against the leather bustier.
“Well, you know me, everything in the extreme.” I’m treated to an impromptu twirl. She’s wearing
a Wonder Woman outfit and it’s so apt. She carries it off beautifully.
“Today’s the first day I’ve been out, so can we go birthday shopping at the weekend?” I feel bad
about not getting her a present but I’ve had other things to contend with. She’ll understand.
She gives my black wig a tug. “Don’t worry about that hon, we’ll make a day of it. I’m just glad
you’re here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you. Come and get a drink, I think you know
everyone so go mingle. You won’t have any shortage of admirers looking like that.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
“This isn’t Mr. P’s scene, so you can let your hair down. God knows you need to after what you’ve
been through.” She gives me a sisterly hug and is lost in the mu
ltitude of party revellers, leaving a
blaze of a red in her wake.
I head in the direction of the fountain. Whatever’s in it looks pretty but I doubt it’s as gentle on the
throat as it is on the eye.
Two minutes in and so it begins; a tall, blond guy with perfect teeth wearing a Spiderman outfit
introduces himself and, for the next fifteen minutes, proceeds to bore me with talk of hedge funds and
ski trips. He’s trying too hard and as dark as his brown eyes are, I can’t see myself reflected in them. I
excuse myself and go in search of pastures new.
That takes the form of a friendly Canadian who’s wearing an Incredible Hulk body suit; his
interests are cooking and cycling. He’s good for another fifteen minutes but he doesn’t arch his brows
the way Ayden does when he speaks and his lips are too full, not carved into that perfect V like
Ayden’s.
By 9.30, I’ve finished my drink and I’m tiring from attention overload from perfectly charming
men. I don’t want to be charmed. I want to be challenged; I want a staggeringly good looking man to
come and talk to me about romantic poetry, to speak to me in French and to tie me up and fuck me
senseless. I want Ayden.
I become aware of a familiar song. It takes me back to a time before … that night. It has me closing
my eyes and smiling. It’s 2003, Charlie and I are a pair or fun-loving girls, wanting no more than a
couple of drinks and some music to dance to: Beyoncé singing Naughty Girl, what else?
Ask Charlie who she would like to be in the whole world and she’ll say Beyoncé Knowles. Before I
count to ten, she will have found me and before I count to twenty, we’ll be on the dance floor doing
our dance. Thank God Ayden won’t be here to see it.
From out of nowhere she finds me, undoes my cape and throws it onto an unsuspecting female
guest minding her own business on her sofa. Half way through the first verse, we’re into our stride,
bending, writhing, pretending to kiss. It’s ludicrous. Thankfully the music and the applause dies
quickly, allowing me to sidle away and hide myself in the bathroom. I pull off the eye-mask from my
hair and leave it on the sink. That’s enough craziness for one night.
Needing some air, I head out onto the balcony and hold onto the promise of stars but there’s too
much cloud and the November wind is scattering them across the dark, night sky.
It’s the unmistakable air of expensive cologne coursing through my nostrils that focuses my senses.
I know he’s standing behind me, biding his time, filling the space between us with sensual thoughts.
To prompt his embrace I roll my fingers over the handrail on the balcony and lean over, checking out
the group of guests calling up from below.
In a nano-second, he circles his arm around my waist, drawing me close, pulling me into him.
You’re so predictable Mr. Stone …
I say nothing to the stranger at my rear, happy to arc myself against him, placing my hands over
his outstretched palm. Instinctively, I angle my head into him, resting my cheek on his collarbone,
feeling his warm breath mingling with the cool night air.
Inside I’m glowing with happiness; he decided to come, just for me.
I feel his chest expand as he prepares to speak. “I’m supposed to be here for a friend taking care of
business, so to speak.” His voice is a whisper.
The corners of my mouth tilt upwards. “Really? I’m here on my own. My future husband doesn’t do
fancy dress parties.”
“Who doesn’t do fancy dress parties? I’d pay good money to get you into an outfit like this.” I feel
his fingers splaying and venturing northwards, the warmth from his palm radiating through the rubber
material. I feel his erection against my buttocks and that excites me further. He wants me; desire is
thick in the air
“And how much would you spend to get me out of it, Mr. …?”
“Smith …”
“… Mr. Smith?” His willingness to play has me smirking and the prospect of being undressed by
him is causing the blood to surge through my veins like jet fuel.
“Name your price Miss …”
“Jones …”
“Miss Jones. I can have the money transferred into your account in ten minutes.” He takes a beat.
“However, there is one proviso.”
“And that is?”
“You agree not to tell your future husband about it.”
What?
I spin around and take a step backward, pushing Jake Harrison away from me with my flat palms.
“You!”
“Yep. Like you said. Your future husband doesn’t do fancy dress.” He holds out his arms, showing
off his Maverick outfit which, incidentally, does look very good on him. “He sent me in his place. So
here I am.”
“But, but … I thought you were Ayden.” I’m still processing what just happened and the thought of
it is making me blush. Christ! “You’re wearing his cologne.”
“His! Hardly his. We wear the same cologne. So shoot me.” He’s holding up his hands. He’s so
bloody animated, he’s like a mime artist. He’s nothing like Ayden.
“You had no right pretending to be him, putting your hands on me.” He can see how upset I am, and
if he can’t, then he’s so self-absorbed I don’t care either way.
“Okay, I was out of line but it was kinda fun.” What gives him the right to smile at me like that?
“Granted it turned this dismal night into something much more enjoyable, but only because I
thought Ayden had changed his mind and decided to come after all.”
“No chance of that. He’s way too busy. Besides, we tossed for the Maverick outfit and I won.” He
polishes the buttons with his knuckles, seeming extremely proud of himself.
His boyish mannerism makes me smile. How come he’s the most entertaining man I’ve met all
night, when there’s a room full of good looking guys? I know why. He has that sparkle, that
indefinable something about him, that special quality that Ayden has. Only, he’s not Ayden.
“I think you’ve been sampling the punch bowl,” I suggest, watching him sway a little, the way men
do when they’re trying so hard to look sober but failing miserably.
“What if I have? Are you going to report me to my boss?”
“I might. Although I think he has no illusions as to your nocturnal activities Jake.” I attempt to side
step him, but he bars my way.
“My nocturnal activities?” he asks, throwing back his head in a kind of mocking gesture. “You’re a
fine one to talk.” His words nail me to the spot.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sensing my indignation, he eases off on his insinuation. “Nothing. All I’m saying is that you and
Ayd are an item and I know, from past experience, that he can be quite demanding, if you get my
drift?” He winks at me and I’m so incensed that I’m actually considering slapping him.
“This conversation is over Jake. Move out of the way.” I push against his chest. He doesn’t budge.
“What do you think he sees in you?” he asks, making me feel very self-conscious all of a sudden.
“I really couldn’t say.” I won’t stand for his badgering a moment longer. “Get out of my way Jake.”
He throws back the remnants of his drink and looks down at me. “You have no fucking idea, do
you?”
He’s right, I don’t. With a ferocious stare I face him
off. “Maybe you should tell me Jake. You
seem to know Ayden better than anyone. What do you think he sees in me?”
He nods his head from left to right and gazes up to the heaven, seeming to question the rights and
wrongs of what he’s about to say. He finds my eyes. “He sees a ghost Beth.”
His answer shocks me. I have no smart riposte and can’t even muster an indignant look. Having
dropped his bombshell, he moves to one side and allows me to pass.
Not bothering to acknowledge a soul, I head for Charlie’s en-suite bathroom. At least I’ll be able to
have a private moment to myself, away from lecherous eyes and wrathful friends of my future
husband.
I turn and catch sight of myself in the full length mirror. Who is this person? The outfit, the hair,
the make-up … This may be fancy dress but it’s too fancy for me. It’s only 10.00pm and I’m ready to
leave. I’ve done what I intended to do: worn the outfit, wished Charlie happy birthday and now my
presence is no longer required. Besides, I don’t think I can endure the tedium of being hit on again by
another super hero.
Can I go now?
I take my phone out of my bag and press Speed-dial 1. After the third ring, Ayden picks up.
“Hi Ayden, what are you up to?”
“I’m working Beth. Is everything alright?” He seems a little put out.
“Yes, everything’s fine. I’m tired and don’t want to be here. Can you come and get me?”
“Has something happened?”
He picks up on the sadness in my voice. “No. I would rather be where you are, that’s all.”
“I understand.” The softness returns. “I’ll get the address off Lester and be there in 20 minutes, and
Beth ..?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t leave the building. I’ll come up and collect you from Charlie’s apartment.”
“Thank you.” I sigh with relief.
“Anything else you want to tell me?”
“No. Oh, yes. Jake’s here dressed as Maverick.”
A chuckle leaves his lips. “He likes to play the high flier.”
“Well, he’s flying …” Already he has me smiling.
“Go tell him from me he’s meeting me for a session at 7.00am. He’ll crash and burn when he knows
that.”
“I wouldn’t dare. He’s on a natural high, surrounded by adoring females. There’s no stopping him
TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) Page 26