London Falling (The Falling Series)

by Audrey Carlan

  The most beautiful sound came out of her mouth. She giggled. It reminded me of when we were kids. Nathaniel and I would chase our sisters around the house, tackle them and tickle them until they’d wet their knickers or begged forgiveness.

  “I’d like that, Colly. Thank you. I’m so glad I came to you first.” She snuggled into my neck. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “Shhh. None of that. You are pure and beautiful and sweet. One day you will have real love, the kind they write about in those chick flicks you adore. You know, the ones with that sod, Hugh Grant?”

  She laughed.

  “I never understood why they paired up a great beauty like Julia Roberts with the likes of him.” I pretend shivered. She continued to laugh, then smacked at my arm.

  After holding her for some time, she stopped crying completely. “I’m so tired, Colly. I left the moment I caught him yesterday. I just went home, packed a bag and showed up at the airport. No one knows I’m gone. Will you tell Mum and…you know, everyone?”

  I nodded and lifted her to her feet. “Come on now. I’ll get your case, settle you in the guest room. It has an attached bathroom so you’ll have privacy.”

  “You’re the best, brother mine. Why hasn’t some great beauty scooped you up since you escaped the queen-beast?”

  “Working on that, actually.”

  She sat on the bed in the guest room. “Is that so? You met someone?”

  Instead of lying to her, I went with the truth. “I did but we’ve only been on one date and she’s very skittish. So we’ll see.”

  “I’m glad. After what that bitch did to you, it’s time you found someone who will make you happy.” The waterworks built in her eyes again. “Look at us. Two siblings both cheated on. What is wrong with the sanctity of marriage these days? Is nothing sacred?” She sounded indignant, and with great reason.

  I sat down next to her and blew out a long breath, thinking back to when Claire left me. She’d been with the rich hotel entrepreneur for the better part of a year before I’d had a clue she was gallivanting around on me.

  “Apparently not. But I will tell you this sister mine, every day it hurts a bit less, until you forget why you even married that person in the first place.”

  She nodded. “I hope you’re right.”

  “If they were the ones we were supposed to be with, they’d have never left us.”

  “I love you. Thank you for…this,” She held an arm out to the room and bed. “And for, you know, everything. If Nate agrees about the job, I’ll take it. Stay awhile. I need time away from Europe. Find myself. Figure out what to do next.”

  “Okay, baby girl. I love you, too. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “You always do.”

  I smiled at my sister. She had bags under her too young eyes. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning. Things will seem better then.”

  Once I’d settled her, I grabbed the phone. I did the time conversion in my head and figured it was around eleven in the evening back home. Mum would still be up. She was a night-owl. The phone rang and then her worried tone came across quick. “Colly, what’s wrong?” She’d obviously read the caller ID.

  “Nothing, Mum. Well, nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  “What happened? Is it your brother? My Nate.”

  “Mum, Mum, no. Stop, don’t worry. No one’s hurt. It’s Emma.”

  “Emma, love? What do you mean?”

  “She’s here in the States. My flat, actually.”

  “Come again?” Her tone was confused.

  “Mum, Evan cheated on her. She actually caught him in the act with the tart at his work. That young secretary.”

  “Oh, goodness, no.” She tsk-tsked through the line. “How is she?”

  “Hurting. Sad. You know the drill.”

  “I knew Evan was no good. That boy has shifty eyes.” My mum was ever the good judge of character. “I wish I’d tried harder to get her to wait to marry him. At least she’s still young and doesn’t have children with the wanker.” Hearing my mum cuss stopped me dead in my tracks. Eleanor Walker did not cuss. It was so rare that I wasn’t sure I’d actually heard it.

  “Well, I’ve got her here with me. I’ve asked her to come work for me. Be our assistant.”

  “Assistant? Colly, that’s beneath her. She’s got a degree in business--“

  I cut her off. “Now, now, Mum. This is just for the time being. If she likes the legal field like she did back when she was studying for school, we’ll come up with something more fitting. Maybe our head office administrator. I can’t offer her more than I know she’s capable of. Her mind is not in the right place now. Busy work will keep her…well, it will keep her busy and not worrying about the sod who went out on her.”

  Mum sighed deeply. “You’re right dear. Always thinking. My Colly, so bright. Just like your father.” Another long sigh came through the receiver. “He’d be really proud of you.“ She sniffed and I could tell she was thinking back to when she was married to my dad. Even though they didn’t get along well enough to stay together, they always were civil when it came to me. Made sure I was loved and had a good home, wanted for nothing.

  “Just, do me a favor. Tell Dad and Ella, okay? And if Dad wants to go say his piece to Evan, that would be brilliant!”

  “I fear brilliant is the wrong word. This boy hurt our baby Emma. He’s in for a beating, I’m afraid. Lord on high, I hope your dad doesn’t go to jail over this. Thank you for taking care of our girl. You okay, poppet?” She used the first nickname I’d ever had, one she reserved only for me. I claimed to hate it, but secretly, having anything special with a woman who had three other children screaming for attention made me feel unique.

  “I’m good, mum. I’ll call next week after this has had time to blow over a bit. I’m going to ring off.”

  “Okay. And Colly?” I pressed my ear tight to the phone.

  “I love you, my darling boy.”

  “I love you, Mum.”

  It had been a long day and an even longer week.

  Last weekend I was here shagging the hell out of the beautiful Ms. Kelley. God, I’d give anything to go back to that morning and take back what I’d said to her. I’d love to hear her voice right about now.

  Instead, I poured myself a pint and hit the telly once more, unpausing the rugby game. Watching men beat the living shite out of each other while chasing a neon colored ball would help my newly acquired aggression. I wasn’t prepared to call Nathaniel tonight. I’d tell him what occurred when he was back from the case in California.

  At least there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Saturday evening I was going to see my Beauty again. Someway, somehow I’d convince her to give me another chance. Everyone deserved a second chance.

  Chapter - 8

  “Still sulking, I see.” Tripp tugged on my pony tail and sat in the chaise behind me. I twirled around in my office chair, knees tight to my chest, his huge sweatshirt covered me and my legs like a sleeping bag.

  “I’m not sulking. I’m thinking.” I tipped my chin up to prove I was perfectly centered.

  His eyes assessed me. The moment he saw through my bravado his lips tipped up at one corner. “Yeah, thinking about the sexy Mr. Bond and how you blew it last weekend?” he leaned back and unfolded his long frame onto the tiny chaise. “Why don’t you just call him?” he added for what seemed like the millionth time.

  “You know why.” I threw ice cold daggers his way.

  This was not the first time in the past week we’d had this particular conversation. My Englishman had been on the regular loop of conversation with my best friend. I could just stay at Dylan’s and avoid Tripp but I didn’t want to do that either.

  The client, though sweet, wanted to jump me. Unfortunately, I’d made it perfectly clear in the first couple weeks that I was game for it. Now things were different. I’d changed. Anxiety now filled my head-space when I was at his apartment, giving me the desire to run off to my hideout. Not so luc
ky for me, I had my very own self-proclaimed six-foot three-inch therapist in residence.

  “Bridge, this conversation is tiring.” He yawned for emphasis.

  “Then stop bringing it up.”

  “I would if you’d stop acting like the dog died!”

  “We don’t even have a dog!”

  “Exactly. Stop sulking and being down. You chose to ignore him all week. It’s up to you to change that.”

  “I can’t!” I groaned, frustrated with the added dose of lying to myself.

  “Give me one good reason why and I’ll never ask again.”

  Tears swelled and blurred my vision. “You promised, Tripp,” I whispered. “You said we’d never get hurt again. We’d be there for each other…“ The few tears I’d tried to hold back slipped down my cheeks.

  “Jesus, Bridge. What the fuck?” He stood and wrapped me around him as he sat back on the chaise. “I had no idea this was so serious. Forget everything I said.” He took a breath and petted my hair. “I just want you to live a little. There’s nothing wrong with starting a relationship with a man other than me, you know?” His strong arms held me as I thought about his words. “We’ll always be there for one another and I will kill any man who harms you, but dating someone isn’t unusual. Having feelings for the opposite sex is okay. It really is.” The way he worded it made me feel he was convincing himself as much as me.

  I laughed into his chest. “Since when did you get all feely-mick-feelerton? Feelings for the opposite sex?” I mocked him, making an ugly face and sticking out my tongue while rolling my eyes. “Really, Tripp?”

  He grinned and kissed the edge of my mouth. “Really. According to my sponsor, it’s time for the both of us to make some changes. It starts with us relying on others now and again, and not just one another.” He pointed to his chest then mine.

  “I think I read a book on that once,” I said dryly, with an eye roll.

  “Be serious. We are completely co-dependent on one another. For everything.”

  “But I trust you.” I bit my lip and grabbed a hunk of hair to twirl it around my index finger.

  “And I you.” Tripp hugged me tight. “But it’s time we take baby steps. I’ll do it, if you will?”

  “You’re not moving out are you?” I stared into his light eyes. There was something there I couldn’t get a good read on. Usually his emotions were all over the place and easy to identify.

  Normally, I didn’t need the vocal answers to questions. I knew the answers in the emotions that poured off him. Right now, I felt…nothing. It scared the hell out of me. Heat rolled through me as I pondered the concept that I’d be alone. Without Tripp. Prickles of panic sneaked up my spine and sent gooseflesh to the outer edges of my skin, tickling and uncomfortable.

  Tripp cupped my cheeks. “Baby steps, Bridge. Shit, relax, breathe for Christ’s sakes!” I let out a huge lungful of air I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I don’t know how to start either,” he finally admitted.

  That’s why I couldn’t feel anything. I took a deep breath in and out slowly. He honestly didn’t have any emotion tied to the concept of moving forward, moving on. Probably because for so long he believed he’d end up dead in the gutter like his bitch of a mother told him he would. And it actually could have happened had he not cleaned up his act and gotten off the drugs.

  “Look, Bridge, I’m not asking you to make a life change here. God knows, I’d prefer to be the only man in your life. But, we know we have to let others in at some point. Now when you’ve got a sexy Mr. Bond of your very own, you might as well take advantage. Hell, if you don’t, I will!”

  “I think that new sponsor is helping you.” I giggled and squeezed his hands.

  He nodded, pulled me into a standing position and gave me one of his megawatt, model-bright smiles. “I think so, too. How about we go get your client and start filling his house with what he needs!”

  Tripp was the best thing I could ever hope or wish for in a best friend. He was kind, loving, more concerned about my needs than his own and a tiger in the sack, though we promised no more of that. We have kept that promise for the past year aside from the little handy a couple weeks ago. We’ve both been on our best behavior. Our friendship has never been stronger. He threw an arm over my shoulders and walked us to my room.

  “So what’s this guy Dylan’s problem, anyway? Besides that he’s no longer getting laid by you, poor guy. That makes two of us.” He pouted, sticking his full pink lip out, looking adorable.

  I narrowed my eyes at him and pulled some clothes from the closet. “Believe it or not, he actually needs to be a bachelor. A real bachelor. Live on the wild side, have some parties, experience life. He’s too stuck on being a goodie-two-shoes.”

  Without paying attention, I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top that crisscrossed in the back.

  Tripp shook his head and grabbed the blouse from my hands. “You can’t wear that, unless you’re putting this sheer thing over it.” He held out a teal and purple peacock inspired blouse. It looked best with a tank under it but sometimes I rocked a teal bra and showed off my assets.

  He didn’t normally make a point of picking out my clothes. That sounded more like Aspen’s bestie, Oliver, not mine. Her BFF moonlighted as her personal assistant, fashion stylist, and second in command of her company. Tripp was more man than she-man. Women’s clothing was not his thing unless he was stripping it off said woman.

  “What do you mean I can’t wear this?” I pulled the white silky tank from his grip.

  “Are you trying to confuse the guy? You know longer want to fuck him, but this says ’Here, look at my perfect tits in this top.’ It’s cruel, Bridge.” He grasped the peacock shirt and tank and shoved it into my chest. “Give the guy a break and cover up the precious, will ya?”

  I laughed. “You did not just call my boobs ’the precious,’ Tripp Devereaux!”

  “Oh yes, I did. I’ve had them every which way you can get ‘em and they are worth all the gold in China and then some.” He put his hands under each globe to test their weight. “Yup. And still perky as hell.”

  “Cut it out!” I smacked his hands away. “I’ll wear the damn blouse, okay? Jeez, you’re worse than my mother. I don’t know why I put up with you,” I grumbled and threw on the tank, adjusted my boobs and slipped on the sheer overlay. The deep purples, teals and blues contrasted with my black hair and light eyes. It really worked for me. I actually felt pretty.

  “Perfect, now call your client and tell him to meet us downtown. I want to check out that hidden away furniture emporium you found last month by accident.”

  “Ooh, good idea! I didn’t get a chance to really check it out. They have a little restaurant close by. We can hit that afterward for drinks and appies!” I pulled my hair into a thick pony tail, slicked my lips with some pink gloss, pinched my cheeks and added a quick layer of black mascara, then we were off.

  Dylan met us just outside the furniture store as we pulled up in my BMW. It was a gift from Aspen for my twenty-fifth birthday last year. It matched hers, only she chose a dull boring gunmetal gray for herself. Mine was candy apple red, loaded, with high-performance tires and a smooth black leather interior.

  Tripp told Aspen the gift was TITS! Meaning it was as great as a nice pair of breasts. Men were weird. I named her “Samantha” after the erotic vixen in Sex in the City.

  The Furniture Emporium was a huge metal warehouse, ten times bigger than any of those box stores in suburbia. It hadn’t spread its wings as one of the mainstream retailers, but I knew a guy, who knew a guy, who got me access.

  The last time I was here I briefly drooled over the supply. They catered to clientele that specialized their designs with furniture from India, Europe, and Asia. They also had a solid amount of US products that were considered ‘boutique’ pieces made from local woodworkers and whittlers. Everywhere the eyes roamed, new and beautiful art was proudly displayed. The place was Heaven to an interior designer.

&n
bsp; I couldn’t wait to show Tripp and Dylan, though I didn’t think Dylan would much care one way or the other. He wasn’t big on sharing his opinion. Part of why I needed to bring Tripp along for this experience. Tripp was Tripp. Forever the bachelor. Honestly, I hoped Tripp could give the guy a lesson or two on how to let go, live in the now instead of planning his stock portfolio for when he was going to retire. The man was in his twenties for crying out loud.

  We got out of the car. Dylan stood looking incredibly young, having traded in his suit for jeans and a polo shirt. He approached me, placed a hand around my waist and leaned in for a kiss. I backed away and Tripp stepped between us, introducing himself.

  Dylan’s eyes followed me as I walked around him. I knew it wasn’t fair, avoiding him like this. Originally, I set the rules. Now, I had to suffer the consequences. Tenderly, I gripped his hand and brought it to my lips for a kiss. Confusion seemed to pump off him. It tapped a hasty beat against my heart, making me feel like utter garbage for leading him on the way I had.

  “Hey,” I kissed his knuckles keeping the hold on his hand. His eyebrows knit together at the gesture. “We need to talk, later okay?”

  Dylan’s eyes brightened. I could feel acceptance and loss transmitting to my empathic feelers. He looked resigned but smiled and kissed the outside of my hand. “Sure, whatever you say, London.”

  “Let’s have some fun. I’m about to change your life,” I said whimsically.

  I tugged him through the warehouse style store as I heard him whisper, “You already have.”

  ***

  “I’ll fucking pummel the bloody wanker!” Nathaniel strode into my office. He must have seen Emma sitting at the desk opposite my receptionist. “You, you!” He pointed a thick finger at me as he strode in like a knight in shining Armani. “You should have called me.” He pointed that same finger against his chest.

  I stood and held out my hands to cool him. “Agreed. I’ll start now by saying I’m sorry. You had a lot on your plate in California with that actress/client you like so much.”