Untaming Lily Wilde

by Olivia Fox

  She gritted her teeth. This would have to stop. She’d made her decision. The right decision. End of story. And Seb was coming home. He’d emailed to say his flight would touch in at Gatwick a little after 4pm and he’d being coming straight to Lily’s flat. There’d be plenty of time to wrap her limbs around his strong hips and melt away any residual Christoph-craziness. Seb was more than enough of a distraction.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she flushed. Her juices had been flowing into her silk knickers at the mere though of Seb’s return, his power-house torso pressing into her, his cock driving deep into that space between her thighs. Her hand stroked restlessly against her collar bone, trying to quell her shuddering breath. She shook herself. Get it together. Answer the bloody phone.

  It was Grayson. “Lily, honey. Can you come over to Hatherly later? It’s about Tom. We’ll get you home after if you like, or you can stay here and wait for Seb. But we really need to get this ironed out once and for all. And Tom’s agreed to sit down and talk so…” he trailed off leaving Lily to fill in the blanks.

  So… I have to sit in a room taking abuse from my ex-boyfriend until he agrees on a price. Effing fantastic. Lily hadn’t had any intentions of going back to Hatherly without Seb. But what could she do? Then paranoia struck. What if this wasn’t about Tom at all; what if Christoph was there waiting for her? She tried to bat away the idea. It was ludicrous. But she couldn’t quite shift the worry.

  “Tonight? Are you sure this has nothing to do with Christoph?” she asked. Better to lay it out in front of him and deal with her anxieties than let them drive her crazy all day.

  “God, you don’t trust easy do you?! Nothing to do with Christoph, and everything to do with Seb.”

  It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, the conversation began to feel a tad chilly. What had he said to Grayson last night? Nothing overly friendly she doubted.

  “Seb’s coming back this evening,” Grayson continued, “and I’d like to get this Tom situation cleared up before he gets here. My way of apologizing to your boyfriend for pushing you too far with Christoph.”

  “Oh God… Did he lose it? Look, you don’t need to apologize. I’ll talk to Seb.” Was anyone ever going to accept that she could make decisions, both good and bad, for herself?

  “All the same, I think you should come over.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion, but an instruction; and she didn’t appreciate being bulldozed into spending an evening with Tom. But sooner or later the matter needed resolving. She’d brought Tom and all his scheming nastiness into their lives and if Grayson had a way to fix things, who was she to refuse?

  “What do you have in mind for Tom?” she asked, praying Grayson had some kind of plan; if he was relying on Tom being brought round to reason he was in for a disappointment.

  “A deal. I’ve already talked it through with him, and he’ll more than likely go for it. We can chat it through later honey, I’m pushed for time. So you’ll come?”

  What choice did she have? “I’ll be there.”

  “Great. Ana and I will be back around 3, but if you want to get there sooner, someone will let you in.”

  “No, 3’s fine,” she sighed. Grayson was doing his best. He obviously felt guilty for screwing up things with Seb, which he needn’t as far as Lily was concerned, but she appreciated his efforts to make things right again. She’d play along. Meeting Tom would stink. No two ways about it. But seeing Seb after would soften the blow.

  As soon as they’d hung up on their conversation, Lily began composing an email. Seb was adamant that she stay clear of Hatherly, and he wouldn’t be at all impressed by the change of plan, but too bad. Maybe he wouldn’t even get the email until he landed, by which time it’d be too late to kick up a fuss. Who was she kidding? Seb would get it alright. In which case she’d just have to her argument water tight. There was no way she wanted to tell him about meeting Tom. She’d tell Seb she couldn’t see him tonight, after all. She’d say something had come up with Emma - something like that. Force him to go home to Hatherly. Then by the time he got there, she’d be there too, and she’d come clean about her little white lie. OK, little grey lie. But pale grey. She typed the email and read it back. Face to face she didn’t have a hope, but by email, by golly, she was a veritable Pinocchio.

  27

  Lily stood on the threshold to Hatherly under a thick mat of black cloud. The cabby who’d ferried her from St Albans Station was long gone, but she still stood on the far side of the gate. She stared down the long driveway to where Tom’s bike stood propped on its side stand out front. Grayson’s coupe wasn’t there. Were he and Ana still not back from wherever they’d been, or was the car parked up in some garage she’d not yet seen? Hopefully the latter. She didn’t fancy facing Tom alone. A cold spit of rain tapped her scalp. Then another. Time to face the music.

  She pressed the smooth silver entry button. Mr Lines’ voice crackled over the entry system and the gates whirred to life. The driveway seemed more exposed in the cold grey half-light, and Lily wrapped her arms around her middle feeling skinny, snappable. She would do this thing, do what she had to, then wipe Tom from her life for good.

  Marching towards her from the main door was Mr Lines; a familiar Hatherly face, though not a particularly comforting one. The man never relaxed, and as such it was near impossible to relax around him. Still, Lily was thankful for small mercies; better to have Sir Awkward by her side than walk into the lion’s den alone.

  “Is Grayson here? And Ana?” She asked, lowering her voice as Lines held the door wide for her to enter.

  “Both are here.” As if to confirm his statement, a brief hubbub of male laughter rose somewhere nearby, perhaps from the drawing room. If Tom and Grayson were laughing, that was surely a good sign. “If you’d like to follow me.”

  She tensed, expecting to be taken to the others, but instead was led to the empty office.

  “Someone will be along shortly. Can I bring you anything? Some water?”

  Though Lily’s mouth felt suddenly dry, she told him she was fine. His expressionless reserve was making her deeply uncomfortable. Lines closed the office door as he left, an action which struck Lily as hostile though she couldn’t say why. Sweat gathered in the lines of her palms. She wanted to fling the door wide and run. Pull it together. She shook off her coat, wiped her hands on her skirt and tried to steady her breathing; in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four…

  The phone in front of her flashed red before it began to ring. Should she pick it up? She stretched out an arm then pulled back. It could be a client; better to be over-cautious with client confidentiality. Someone would surely hear it ringing and come by. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands together under the table, wishing the damned thing would stop screaming and flashing at her. Another shrill ring, then the answer-machine kicked in: No one is available to take your call at present. Please leave your details and we will get back to you as soon as possible.

  “Grayson, pick up the damn phone”

  Lily held stock still. It was Christoph.

  “…Look, just leave the money in your account for the time being. Keep working on her. See if she’ll change her mind.”

  She couldn’t breathe. Dread, thick and heavy, crushed her lungs. Money. It had all been about money. Did Ana know? Were they both just trying to make a quick quid the whole time? She couldn’t believe that. Ana wouldn’t do that. Would she? One way to find out…

  “But call my office again, Gray-” he went on. Just as Lily picked up the phone.

  “It’s me.” She spoke evenly in an effort to sound calm.

  For a second there was silence.

  “Lily?” She’d predicted his surprise, but where did he get off sounding so amused?!

  “You were saying something about money, Christoph? Care to explain?” Could he hear the shudder behind her snappish words? She prayed he couldn’t.

  “Lily Wilde.” His voice was silky as treacle. She could all but hear the
smile in it.

  “Answer the question. You paid him. Didn’t you? Did you pay him? You paid him to get me to -” OK, now the shudder was obvious.

  He laughed. “You can’t even say it can you? Seb always did know how to spot the innocent ones. I should thank him for bringing you to my attention.”

  Fuck you. She managed not to say it.

  “Does Ana know?” And why do I sound like a little kid who never knew she was the butt of everyone’s joke…

  Christoph seemed to consider her question. What was there to consider? Either she did, or she didn’t. “You sound distressed Lily. It was never my intention to distress you. Merely to fuck you into the submission I know you crave. Don’t obsess about the money. And don’t let your boy-toy turn you into a coward. You’re not a coward. Far from it, from what I recall.”

  “What?! I don’t crave submission,” she stammered. Do I? She wished she could have sounded just a touch surer.

  Because Christoph sounded pretty damn sure. “You nearly came when my hand slammed into your ass, Lily. Don’t lie to yourself. You’re better than that.”

  “Fuck you.” This time she didn’t manage not to say it. And he laughed. He just laughed.

  “I’m a busy man, Lily. If you’re finished, I’ll be going.”

  And she couldn’t think of a single word to say to him. Not one word to express her humiliation without him making it feel a hundred times worse. Because that’s what he did, wasn’t it - he took her shame and told her it was what she wanted. So how could she say anything more.

  Dealing with Tom was suddenly the furthest thing from her mind. She had to go. Now. She hung up the phone and carefully, as though handling a bomb, she replaced it on the desk, then pulled in a few shallow breaths before standing. The room span. She gripped the desk’s edge and gritted her teeth. For fuck sake, Lily, just go! Too late. As she reached the door, it opened toward her.

  “Lily.” Ana smiled at her. “Are you alright?” She stood to one side, beckoning Lily from the room.

  “I’m fine,” Lily said, too quickly, her voice constricted. She needed to go. But could she? Could she walk out on Ana, leaving her reputation in Tom’s greedy hands? Perhaps. Christoph hadn’t answered her question. Did Ana know about the money? Lily’s eyes skimmed the corridor to the entrance hall, but her body lacked conviction. She had to deal with Tom.

  Ana placed a hand on Lily’s tensed shoulders, and nodded toward the drawing room. Her flight instinct was switching to ‘fight’. This wasn’t the time or place to confront Grayson about the contract. Not in front of Tom. So why did she suddenly want to storm into that room and knock someone’s block off?

  Silently, they walked the short distance to the drawing room, pausing in front of its closed door. Ana twisted the drawing room handle, pushing the door wide. “I liked you. We could have been friends,” she sighed.

  Lily was aware of Tom and Grayson inside the room, watching from adjacent sofas, but her eyes remained fixed on Ana. She knows about Tom’s threats. She knows about the diary. She knows, and she hates me. But Lily had never set out to jeopardize Ana’s reputation. It was a mistake. Surely Ana could see that?

  “I - I’m so sorry. I never meant for Tom to see my diary.” She spoke softly though louder than a whisper. If Tom heard her, so be it.

  Uninterested, Ana took hold of Lily’s hand and marched her into the drawing room. “Your diary isn’t the problem, Lily,” she hissed gently, still smiling, always smiling, backing up toward the door.

  “I don’t understand.” Lily stood there, in the centre of the room, refusing to shift her gaze from Ana’s.

  “The problem,” Ana sighed, “is this.” She threw a crumpled piece of paper at Lily’s feet, turned about heel, closed the door, and locked it. Why did she lock it?! Lily ran to the door, turned the handle, then yanked it. Definitely locked.

  “Oh for God’s sakes, she’s such a drama queen,” Grayson piped up. “Lily, come sit down.”

  Lily didn’t budge. She looked at Tom; his arms were folded, head cocked to one side, as he eyed her with a smugness which made her arm hairs stand on end. She looked away.

  Grayson shrugged. He placed a full whiskey glass on the table, and Lily noticed a second glass next to it; this one drained. “Have it your way,” he said. “And if you’re wondering what that is,” he gestured to the mangled piece of paper, “Well - funny story - our cleaner was up in Seb’s room the other night - got a bit too vigorous with the feather duster. She knocks one of photos clear off the wall - smashes the frame - big commotion. Ana goes running in to help out, and you know what she finds? Solicitors papers. They’d been crammed down the back of the frame. The asshole wants a divorce. Did you know that?”

  Lily didn’t respond. How long had they known?

  “I guess I’ll take that for a yes. Good. Makes this bit easier.”

  She stared at him, incredulous. It hadn’t been like that. Seb was never planning on just walking away. Nothing was set in stone. He wanted to make Ana an offer she couldn’t refuse, do the decent thing.

  Lily shook her head. “You haven’t got a clue.”

  “Oh, sweety, I’m afraid I do.” Grayson’s lips settled into a straight line. He shot a look at Tom. “Shall I fill her in?”

  Tom shrugged, his eyes burning into Lily’s peripheral though she couldn’t bare to look back at him.

  A pile of papers sat on a coffee table to one side of Grayson. He reached for the top sheet and his lips twisted into a smile. “We’ve hit a deal. Tom here has been extremely reasonable. He’s agreed to drop the issue, with a little compensation to help mend his pride. And as you're so sexually liberated now -”

  “What?!” The blood drained from Lily’s face. “I'm not sleeping with him.” She stepped back, her shoulder blades pressing into the hard edges of the door.

  “Actually, honey, we were hoping you'd say that. Tom and I had something less romantic in mind than straight-up vanilla sex. What would be the point in that? If he wants a whore, he can buy one for next to nothing. Are you following me, Lily?”

  She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Refused to compute what he was saying.

  “Let me spell this out for you, Lily. Tom wants revenge sex. So your… resistance… would actually be beneficial to the arrangement.”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Her words were a gasped whisper, but Grayson’s smile told her he’d heard.

  He lifted up the piece of paper he’d been holding, turning it so that Lily could just about make out the shape of the header, the paragraphs, the signature at the bottom. Her contract. “Nothing you haven't already agreed to.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. You said…”

  “I say a lot of things.”

  She folded her arms. This was madness. He was bluffing. He had to be. But whatever his game was, he wasn’t beyond risking her safety for his own gain. Christoph’s answer-phone message had taught her that much. Bile rose in her stomach and she fought it down. She couldn’t afford to be weak. “So I guess you won’t be getting your big pay-off from Christoph. That’s got to smart.”

  His eyebrows momentarily drew together in confusion, but his smirk remained. “Fine choice of words. And no, I won’t. But don’t worry, honey. There are some things money can’t buy. A front row ticket at your dishevelment for instance…”

  “What?!” Tom turned to Grayson. The sudden roar of his voice sent Lily’s heartbeat rocketing into her mouth. “You're just going to sit there and watch?” He said, a flicker of discomfort suddenly blemishing his confidence.

  “Pretty much. I'm also going make sure you don't knock her about like last time.”

  Tom flushed, shifting his weight awkwardly on the sofa. “I didn't. That was an -”

  “An accident. Yeah. All the same, I promised her boyfriend I'd look after her, so this is the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  Look after her?! Lily could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Whatever Grayson was up to, looking after he
r was hardly up there on his list of priorities.

  Tom glared at Grayson, momentarily outraged, his mouth aghast, jaw jutted out as though he might be about to fight the issue. Was he reconsidering? Lily wasn’t about to wait and find out. She turned and pounded her fists against the door as though her life depended on it, ignoring the pain sparking through her hands with each thump. She half shouted, half screamed, her voice scratching through the dryness in her mouth as she begged for help. No one came. A hand closed around her mouth. She knew instantly whose it was.

  Tom’s hot palm pressed rough against her face. He jerked her head back so that his words hissed down onto her in a whiskey fueled stench. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  A bubble of hysteria rose in Lily's throat. Was her screaming interrupting his good time?

  “You can let her yell. Ana's sent the staff home.” Grayson sounded bored.

  Tom dropped his hand. The pressure of his fingers still burnt against her left cheek. Eyes stinging, she turned to face him. Screaming hadn't worked so, God help her, she'd have to try reason. Folding her arms and forcing herself to stand tall, she tried to ignore the dull throbbing pain in her face. She levelled her eyes with his. Had his eyes always been so dark, so deep set? “What... What am I doing to you, Tom?”

  “This!” Tom thrust a finger toward Grayson, who met Lily’s eyes with an amused shrug. “Whoring it about!” Tom yelled, spraying drops of spittle. “Sticking two fingers up at everything we had. I miss you. I fucking miss you, Lily. And you keep on rubbing my face in it.”

  Blood thumped in Lily’s ears. How could she reason with him? He was drunk. Beyond sense. But he missed her. Maybe if she could just get through to him... But how could she argue without making him worse?

  “You're gonna have to talk to me this time. We've both done things we're not proud of. I grovelled to you - fucking begged you to forgive me,” he said. “But you? Course not. You just keep on screwing about, laughing at me, don't you?”