Fallen Angel, Part 1

by Podger, Tracie

  Leaving the bedroom, I walked through to the lounge. Robert was sitting at a table off a kitchen area with a pot of coffee waiting for me. He looked up from his paper and gestured to the seat opposite, he poured me a cup.

  Leaning forward he said, “You smell of me, Brooke.”

  I laughed. Yes you’re right, in more ways than one, I thought.

  I sipped my coffee and noticed the time was only seven o’clock, I’d woken so early and Robert even earlier.

  “What time do you start work?” I asked him.

  “I’m normally at my desk about now,” he replied.

  “I’ve made you late, I’m sorry.”

  “If I have to be late then this is a good reason to be, and since I own the company, I doubt I’ll be in too much trouble,” he said with a chuckle. “Travis might be concerned though.”

  “Travis?” I asked.

  “My security. He’ll be eager to know you haven’t murdered me in the night.”

  I laughed, “I think you’ll find, Robert, I’m the only one hurt. I have bruises all over.”

  He stood and as he walked around the small table, he cupped my chin in his hand. He raised my face to his and his lips just brushed mine.

  “If you let me, there will be more,” he said.

  I looked up at him, into those dark eyes and the laughter was gone replaced by desire and danger. I was reminded of the power of him and my stomach lurched with wanting.

  “I need to go to work but I would like to see you tonight,” he said.

  “I don’t know, I’ve come to visit with Sam. I don’t want to neglect him but I do want to see you again,” I added hastily as I saw a brief look of disappointment on his face.

  “Come on, Travis will run you home, he’s waiting downstairs.”

  I stood and he pulled me towards him, kissing me. He tasted of coffee and I breathed in deeply the smell of him. I meant what I’d said. I wanted to see him again, but I also had Sam to think of. That night had been amazing and I hoped it would not be the last, but Robert was something I was not emotionally prepared for right then. My body was screaming at me to be with him but my mind was confused.

  We made our way to the lifts. The door opened immediately and he pressed for the eleventh and ground floor. He left at floor eleven and with his foot in the doorway, he turned and let his fingers trail down my cheek. As the door closed and I carried on down, my hand touched the same place. Sam had taken the day off and I hoped I might arrive home before he rose. I wanted to change my clothes, not look so much like the dirty stop-out I felt.

  The lift arrived in reception and thankfully, as it was still early; there were not too many people around.

  “Good morning, Miss Stiles,” Travis said.

  He pushed himself off the reception desk. He was, indeed, waiting for me.

  “Good morning, Travis,” I replied and he raised his eyebrows after hearing his name.

  “No Range Rover this morning?” I enquired.

  There was no Range Rover to greet me but a sleek black Mercedes. A stunning S65 AMG with a black leather interior so Travis proudly informed me.

  He laughed, “No, Miss Stiles. That’s normally for the evenings.”

  I assumed that was his attempt at humour.

  “Please, call me Brooke. Miss Stiles makes me sound old. How long have you been with Robert?” I asked as we drove.

  “Many years,” was all he said, halting the conversation.

  I relaxed back into my seat and we continued the journey back to Sam’s apartment. When we arrived, the front door was flung open and Sam ran to the car. He wrenched open the rear door before Travis could get there. Scowling at Sam, Travis bade me farewell and drove off.

  “Honey, quick, in and tell me all about it. I’ve been waiting for you,” Sam said.

  I laughed as we linked arms and made our way to the second floor apartment. Tea and biscuits were laid out on the white glass kitchen table and I told Sam, a censored version, of what had happened.

  “Wow. You know, I asked around and no one really knows much about him, but he is a multi-multi-millionaire. Probably a gazillionaire.” Sam said.

  “Sam, come on, there’s no such thing. I have to confess though, I find him scary and interesting at the same time. There’s a lot more to him than meets the eye, than most people know, I bet.”

  I didn’t want to say what he’d told me, about being an orphan and most definitely about his bad days. As much as I loved Sam, he also loved a bit of gossip and I felt that I would be breaking a confidence if I’d told him. Sam however, wanted to know more.

  “Let’s Google him,” he said as he rushed to get his laptop.

  There were pages and pages of information about him, who he was supposed to be dating. Although there were questions about how he had obtained his wealth, how he’d managed to get as successful, there was nothing about him being orphaned, nothing about his upbringing. I guessed for someone fairly young, people would always want to know how he got started. It didn’t seem that he offered any information and never denied any reports written either. There was not one single interview with him.

  ****

  Sam and I decided to take a walk around the neighbourhood, as much as he’d been there for years, he’d never been a tourist. We had a lovely time, just wandering, taking in the sights and the spicy smells of the Hispanic quarter. We decided to stop for some lunch. Sam’s phone started to ring as soon as we were seated and while I checked out the menu, he answered it.

  “Hello, Sam Crawley speaking. Umm, well, yes she is. Okay, hold on please.”

  I looked at him as he put his hand over the phone. “Mr. Stone, for you,” he said.

  “What?” I mouthed as I took the phone from Sam who was making obscene kissing faces at me.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “I’ve been waiting for your call, Brooke.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t have your number,” I chuckled.

  “I would like to know if we have a dinner date or not.”

  “Mr. Impatient,” I whispered to Sam.

  “Robert, can I call you back? I promise I will in five minutes. I’m with Sam right now and just about to order lunch. Let me chat with him first.”

  “Five minutes, Brooke,” he said before he cut off the phone.

  I should have been furious with him. How dare he speak to me like that? But I had seen vulnerability in him and I didn’t believe that he’d meant to be so bloody rude.

  “What did he want?” Sam asked.

  “He wants to see me tonight, but I’m not going to,” I replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Because, Sam, I’ve come to see you and Scott, and so far only spent one evening with you.”

  “Oh honey, I’m off work now for the next few days. You can spend time with him in the evenings and we can spend the days together. That will piss him off as I get more hours with you,” he laughed.

  “That’s not the point, remember why I’m here as well.” I said.

  “Honey, for once in your life, do something wild. What you need, girl, is to have some fun, get wined and dined and hopefully a lovely shag at the end of the evening.”

  I could have hugged Sam; he was the most unselfish person I knew. Four minutes and fifty seconds later, I returned the call. Was that mean? Sam and I giggled as we watched the clock tick down. He answered immediately.

  “Brooke?” he said. I could hear voices around him and it sounded like he was busy.

  “Hi, I said I would call back and I have. Sam has given me the night off, so if your offer is still open?”

  “Travis will collect you at seven,” he said, then cut off the phone again.

  If there was one thing that made me mad it was when people put the phone down on me. I slammed Sam’s phone down on the table.

  “Hey, honey, that’s the new iPhone,” he cried.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “He tells me he’s sending Travis at seven to collect me then puts the bloody phone down
.”

  Sam laughed, knowing that was my pet hate.

  “Who’s Travis?” he asked.

  “Travis, his driver stroke security, I think,” I replied.

  “Oh yes, I’ve seen him around, carries a gun you know,” he said, leaning forward and whispering.

  “Seriously, Sam, you do have such an imagination.”

  The conversation halted while the waiter placed bowls of tapas in front of us. Whilst taking a sip of wine, my mind went to what Sam had said. Did Travis carry a gun?

  We caught a cab and headed to the Smithsonian to browse the Native American section. It was where Scott worked and a place that would definitely warrant another visit or two. It was lovely to walk around arm in arm with my best friend, both of us chatting and catching up. Although we had spent many hours emailing and on the phone to each other, I was pleased to be able to spend time with him. We’d spoken on the phone a couple of weeks ago and it was Sam who had persuaded me to make the trip. It was a last minute decision and luckily I had some holiday time left at work.

  After a couple of hours, we headed back home. I wanted to chill out for a while before having to get ready. We’d been on our feet most of the day and I hadn’t got a great deal of sleep the night before. With a cup of tea, I curled on the sofa with Sam and we chatted some more.

  I decided to take a bath, a long soak, and I inspected the bruises on my thighs and hips where Robert had gripped them. I had to think really hard about him. As much as the sex was good, he was as controlling in the bedroom as I imagined he was in the boardroom. I relaxed back in the bath thinking about what he’d done to me. He had taken me beyond anywhere I’d been before, emotionally, and that had scared me a little.

  He had controlled when I orgasmed. I was under no illusion about the ‘relationship’ but still, I wanted to be an equal partner when it came to sex, and yet I’d loved that he took control. In the cold light of day, that disturbed me though. His behaviour at lunch for example, was a worry. I had my friends, I didn’t want to be at his beck and call but I also knew I needed to see him again. I had to see if I felt the same things when he touched me, if I saw those images again. It was confusing, and if I had any sense, I would have backed out then.

  Sam came into the bathroom. It was quite usual for him to come and sit on the edge of the bath and chat to me, or walk in if I was having a pee. Whenever I’d complained he would casually tell me that I had nothing he was interested in so not to worry. That was one of the constant arguments I’d had with my ex. The closeness between Sam and I was something he was jealous of.

  “Honey, if you’re to be whisked to dinner by chauffeurs and the like, you should get out of the tub and get ready.”

  He handed me a towel and as he dramatically covered his eyes, I climbed out of the bath and wrapped myself up. I sat on the bed and styled my hair, applied my makeup and with Sam sitting beside me picking out clothes, I raised my fears.

  “Sam, last night he was really intense. I’m not sure about this now,” I said.

  “Well, if you don’t want to go, don’t.”

  “I get the impression that he won’t take no for an answer and the problem is, I do want to go, but I just want a bit more of an equal footing with him. His intensity scares me a little to be honest.”

  “Well, maybe you should be a bit careful. It’s okay to have a bit of fun, you need it and perhaps you should tell him that,” Sam replied.

  “Mmm, maybe, but are you sure you don’t mind tonight? I want for us to go out tomorrow, no matter what happens,” I laughed.

  Precisely at seven o’clock the door buzzer sounded. I was half tempted to make Travis wait twenty minutes and be late but then thought better of it; it was a little petty I guessed.

  “Good evening, Travis. As it’s evening, I guess I get the Range Rover,” I said, as I walked to the car.

  He chuckled, “Miss Stiles, you most certainly do.”

  “So, am I allowed to know where we are off to tonight?” I asked.

  Travis smiled into the rear view mirror, “Ahh now, it’s more than my life’s worth to divulge such secrets.”

  We fell silent as we drove out of the city. The lights and the cars became less frequent and a little while later we entered an unmarked road traversing through park and woodland. Eventually we came to a set of imposing, black metal gates with a camera pointing down from the brick pillars either side.

  The gates opened as we approached and we drove towards a wonderful, modern house. It was on two levels, the top storey was totally glass, the bottom panelled with a light coloured wood. To the side of the house was a garage block with what looked like accommodation above and to the other, another building. I glimpsed a pool and gym. The surrounded area was landscaped but mainly wooded. Travis stopped the car at the front door, which was opened by Robert and I realised, this was his house.

  Robert stood at the doorway barefoot in jeans. An untucked white shirt set off his muscular frame. The last of the buttons were undone revealing his navel. His dark hair was still wet from his shower. God, he looked good and the best of it was, he had no idea just how good he did look. He smiled as I climbed out of the car and he held out a hand to me, which I took. He led me into the house.

  “Welcome to my home, Brooke. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we could eat here,” he said.

  “It’s a great house, show me around?” I asked.

  The entrance foyer mimicked the apartment with a wooden floor. Instead of the glass sculpture there was a round consul table with a white statue of a naked woman holding a child. To the side of the room was a glass and wooden staircase. Robert led me up the stairs; all the living accommodation was on the top floor and completely open plan.

  A stainless steel and walnut kitchen was separated from the lounge by a white granite breakfast bar. The glass walls allowed for an amazing view of the wooded area outside. In the centre of the room was a leather sofa facing an open fire and a low table with two glasses, wine already poured.

  Robert handed me one and I left my bag and wrap on the sofa while he showed me the rest of the house. There was a dining room; a table was already set for two, a TV room, and an office and utility room. Downstairs there were four bedrooms, each with a dressing room and en suite bathroom, and a separate cloakroom.

  The house was very masculine in its decor and I got the impression that Robert had never lived there with a woman. I also noticed there were no photos of friends or family. There were pictures of places, possibly Italy, and all black and white on the walls, but nothing personal. What struck me most was that there was no colour in the house. As with the apartment, white washed or exposed stone walls, black leather, and stainless steel. The rooms were as intense as he was. Robert told me all about the house. He’d had it built to his own specification some years ago and if ever a house reflected its occupant so perfectly, it was that one.

  It was probably the most he’d spoken; on his own territory he obviously felt more relaxed. It was good to see yet another side to him, without the suit he was a little less scary, a little less intense. When we’d arrived back in the lounge I was startled to meet an older woman in the kitchen.

  “Brooke, this is Evelyn. She has the enviable task of looking after me,” he said with a smile.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Stiles,” she said, as she extended her hand. “I hope you like pasta, dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

  “Thank you, Evelyn, and call me Brooke. I’m sure it will be lovely,” I smiled.

  “Mr. Stone, Travis needs a quiet word in your office,” she said, looking at Robert.

  “Excuse me, Brooke. I won’t be long.”

  I watched him stride to his office and felt a little awkward being left alone. I hadn’t even heard Travis come into the house.

  “Can I help you with anything?” I asked Evelyn.

  She chuckled, “No, I have everything under control here, but please, sit at the bar and enjoy your wine.”

  “So, yo
u have the enviable task of looking after Robert,” I said, repeating his words.

  “Have you been doing that for long?” I asked her.

  “I’ve been looking after Mr. Stone, and Travis of course, far too many years to remember really. Travis and I live above the garages,” she replied, busying herself with the cooking.

  She was obviously an exceptional chef judging by the way she prepared our meal. The pasta was hand made and a wonderful sauce bubbled away on the stove. I guessed her to be in her fifties and I was curious about her relationship with Travis, I didn’t think he was much older than Robert.

  Perhaps when she’d said Travis and her lived above the garages, maybe she meant that there were two apartments.

  I looked around the room and despite the white walls and the black leather furniture, the room did feel comfortable and I could appreciate why the living areas were upstairs. Taking my wine and walking over to the glass wall, it was like the house was just an extension of the outside. I remembered Robert telling me he had lived rough. Perhaps all the glass and open space, both at the house and the apartment, was his way of still connecting to the outdoors.

  “Tell me about Robert, Evelyn?” I asked, as I walked back to the kitchen area.

  “Not really my place to,” she said, as she glanced to the office door, still closed.

  “I will say one thing though, you’re the first woman he has brought here. I was quite surprised to hear you would be visiting this evening.”

  “Oh, well I guess I should be honoured,” I replied, not sure how to take that.

  I wondered why he hadn’t brought anyone to his home, he was an extremely attractive man, and I doubted he lacked company. I would have thought there would be a stack of women throwing themselves at him. Sam had told me he was thirty-seven, and I wondered if he’d ever had a long-term relationship. I decided that I would ask him, later at dinner.

  “Brooke, dinner is ready,” I heard him say, as he came out of his office.

  For a moment I saw tension on his face, that look of steel that I had seen when I’d first met him. Perhaps his meeting with Travis had not been a pleasant one. I followed him to the dining room already laid with plates of food.