I Own You

by Dawn McConnell

  One morning, I’d decided enough was enough and I’d stopped taking his calls. Predictably, he’d turned up at the office half an hour later.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer the phone?’ he’d demanded.

  ‘I didn’t answer because I’m working and I have nothing to say to you,’ I’d said calmly. ‘You are becoming pathetic, Stuart. These constant calls! I won’t take your calls in the day anymore. I’ll see you in the morning and when I come home at 6ish. Other than that, you won’t be hearing from me.’

  For a minute, Stuart had just stood there, open-mouthed, too outraged to speak. But I’d just ignored him and, finally, when he’d realized I was serious, he stormed out. I was standing up to him more and more as we both realized the truth: he didn’t have any hold on me whatsoever. We had changed places. I was the strong one and though he still had his violent temper and sick, sadistic threats, I was learning, little by little, that I could push back too.

  Now, finally ready to leave for the day, I got into my car and drove up to the gates. While I waited for them to open automatically, I checked my make-up in my mirror. At thirty-four, I looked good – all the soft edges of my youth had gone and now my high cheekbones accentuated my blue eyes. I even sported a year-round tan thanks to the house we had bought in Portugal the year before. The villa in the Iberian hills was the love of my life and every time we visited, I felt my heart soar with happiness.

  It was a lovely white house with pale blue shutters high up in the Serra de Monchique mountains, surrounded by olive groves, orangeries and lemon trees. I’d drive up to the large wooden door surrounded by bright purple bougainvillea and always feel a sense of coming home. Then I would pour myself a large gin and tonic and sit by the large stone table on the terrace, looking out over the hills towards the sea. Sitting there, absorbing the peace of the mountains and breathing in the fresh, fragrant air filled with the scent of almond blossoms and wild rosemary, I’d feel held, comforted, as the hours passed.

  Stuart still found his moments to control me, of course. That time he locked me out on the balcony was awful. And when he was drunk, he could lose control completely. Despite all the changes of the past few years, his temper still frightened the life out of me. During one trip to Portugal, I got a massage at a local hotel while Stuart decided to watch the Manchester United game on the TV. I told him where I was going and that I’d be one hour.

  I was thirty-five minutes into the massage, just relaxing, when I heard Stuart shouting my name repeatedly in the main reception. How embarrassing! The masseur carried on, assuming there was a drunk outside, which there was, but it was my drunk! When I didn’t appear, Stuart stormed into the room, threw the masseur to the ground and grabbed me by the arm. He started pulling me towards the door. Grabbing my clothes as I went, I tried to resist him but he dragged my half-naked body into the street, like I was a dog on a lead who doesn’t want to go out in the rain. It was a horrible scene and I eventually broke myself free, slipped on my dress and paid the girl behind the desk, apologizing like mad. I left with Stuart bawling and shouting indecencies behind me as I hurried up the large hill.

  I hailed a taxi and went back to the villa. Stuart arrived back six hours later, too drunk to know who I was. He fell into bed and I ignored him for the rest of the holiday. Stuart muttered his daily threats on how he knew people who could make people disappear. The more I ignored him the more he drank.

  In fact Stuart had soon found himself a group of alcoholic expats to drink with daily, and that meant that, other than the occasional outburst, I was allowed off the leash more. Generally, in Portugal, I had space and freedom like never before, only ever seeing Stuart at mealtimes. As long as I checked in when I was supposed to, Stuart wasn’t bothered. He liked to think that by giving me times to report in he was still in control. As long as I showed up when he told me to, he was calm. So in Portugal I’d started socializing with a young, cosmopolitan crowd. And, among these young people who showed me nothing but respect, I found myself exposed to a different way of living. I saw men behaving well towards women, opening doors for them, listening to their opinions and laughing at their jokes. Freed from mixing with Stuart’s older group of friends, who always treated their wives and girlfriends like second-class citizens, I’d begun to yearn for a new life for myself. A new way of being. The path of my life was evolving and, as the gates opened and I zoomed off down the road in my Ferrari, I could feel that change was now inevitable.

  To the outside world, Stuart and I shared the perfect life – the thriving property business, a home abroad, expensive sports cars, a beautiful house with all mod cons and wonderful holidays. But success only served to paper over the cracks in our marriage; cracks that were getting bigger every day. The more confident I became, the more independence I craved and the more it fed my husband’s insecurities. He was convinced I was having an affair and it drove him mad now that he couldn’t control me.

  It was bound to come to a head one day. Two weeks ago, it had finally happened.

  It was a true turning point for me. Until then, I had only had the vaguest feeling that one day I would leave Stuart. I could sense a change in the air, but it seemed like the stuff of dreams: insubstantial and shifting, like walking on sand. But, two weeks ago, one violent and vengeful act had convinced me that I would have to cut ties with him, once and for all.

  It had happened in the morning, after I’d left for the gym. In the past few months, I’d taken membership with a second gym on the other side of town, just to throw Stuart off my trail. I knew he sometimes checked up on me in the mornings but now he never knew which gym I went to and that way I could avoid him. On this particular morning, I had decided to stop at the office first to attend to some pressing business. Two hours later, I got a call from my trainer.

  ‘Dawn, we have a situation,’ he said, very seriously. ‘Your husband has just smashed the hell out of one of my clients’ cars by repeatedly reversing into it with his truck. We’ve got him on CCTV doing it. I would appreciate it if you could come and sort this out please, as soon as possible, as my client is threatening to call the police.’

  ‘Oh shit, Mike, I’m so sorry. Don’t let him leave. I’m coming now.’

  It took almost £20,000, a lot of grovelling and some very creative lies to convince the man in question not to call the police on Stuart. ‘My husband was having a breakdown,’ I’d told him with tears in my eyes. ‘He has just been betrayed by his cousin in the worst way possible and he thought yours was his cousin’s car.’ I’d gone on and on: he drank all day and night; he was on pills for depression . . . I threw everything I could at this bloke and, at last, the man, very reasonably, relented and accepted my offer of cash to fix his car. But it was a close thing.

  ‘What happened?’ I’d asked Stuart when I’d got home later that day. I was calm on the outside, but inside I was raging. Stuart had been slumped in front of the TV as usual, a glass of red wine in his hand.

  ‘I fucking destroyed your gym instructor’s car,’ he’d spat, eyes still fixed on the TV. ‘The one you’re having an affair with.’

  ‘Idiot,’ I’d whispered under my breath. Then, loudly, so he could hear me clearly above the TV, I’d said: ‘Well, the first thing is I’m not having an affair. And the second thing is that wasn’t my instructor’s car. That car belonged to one of his clients – and you’re very lucky he’s decided not to press charges. That little jealous fit of yours cost us seventeen grand. Happy? Was it worth it?’

  ‘Fuck off,’ he’d said. And I’d walked out.

  That night, I’d sat in my kitchen, staring out onto our beautiful garden, nursing a glass of wine. This is the beginning of the end of our marriage, I’d thought, swirling the honey-coloured liquid around the glass. He’s out of control and I have to get away from this man, whatever the cost.

  Now, as I drove to the office, mentally preparing myself for another busy day ahead, I gave a deep sigh. I had meetings scheduled back to back with the last one at 6 p.m. thi
s evening. It was a late one, but Hannah had been trying to set up a meeting for me with this landlord, Bryce Loweth, for weeks now. It seemed he was so busy he rarely answered his emails. Finally, she had called his office and his secretary had offered her the 6 p.m. slot in his office downtown.

  It irritated me that he couldn’t meet me sooner, or at a more convenient time, but his secretary had assured Hannah it was the earliest time he could possibly fit me in. Mr Loweth was the senior partner in a well-known firm and he was constantly on the go, she’d told her.

  Typical! I thought now, as I pulled into the parking space outside my office. Another self-important man! Well, we’re all busy these days.

  What makes him so special?

  Chapter 21

  Bryce

  ‘Come in!’ a deep voice answered my knock that evening as I banged on Bruce Loweth’s door. A lovely voice, I noted as I pushed it open, smooth like melted chocolate. It had been a very busy day and I felt exhausted.

  But when I walked into that basement office, to be met by a handsome, distinguished-looking man who was sat behind a large desk, it suddenly felt like all my senses came alive.

  Jesus! I couldn’t breathe. Who is this man? For a moment, I lost my cool completely and I didn’t know what to say or do. My mouth went dry, I started to sweat and my ears burned hot with embarrassment.

  I’m holding my breath. Why am I holding my breath? God Almighty, Dawn, I rebuked myself. What’s the matter with you? Pull yourself together!

  At the same time, the man at the desk, who I reckoned to be in his mid-forties, looked up from where he had been writing and I felt my insides flip over. As we locked eyes, I knew in that instant I had fallen in love.

  ‘Hi, I’m Dawn,’ I managed to squeak, as the man fixed me with a warm but intense look.

  ‘Yes, of course. Nice to meet you, Dawn. Please, grab a seat. Sorry I couldn’t see you any earlier. Bit under the cosh here.’ He spoke quickly and politely as he waved at the seat in front of him.

  There’s that amazing voice again! Oh, I could listen to it all day!

  It was so rich in tone, it really did something to me. Now, as I sat myself in the chair opposite his desk, it felt like every sinew in my body was on fire. I wanted this man. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone in my life before. And it was terrifying!

  ‘So, what can I do for you, Dawn?’ he said brusquely, with a quick downward glance at his watch. It was abundantly clear that whatever I was feeling at that moment, Bryce Loweth was not feeling it too.

  ‘Erm, right . . .’ I tried to compose myself, but at the same time I couldn’t help clocking this man’s thick black hair, fine-boned cheeks, his immaculately tailored suit and strong Roman nose. He was slim, I could see that – he probably worked out. Broad chest, slim hips . . .

  ‘You wanted to see me?’ he prompted.

  Oh God, I’d stopped talking! How embarrassing. Got. To. Stop. Staring. Quickly, look away . . . !

  ‘Yes, sorry. It’s been a long day,’ I spluttered. ‘Look, I’m selling a flat in the first block on Dean Street and we have to paint the communal entrance and fix the entry door system to ensure the sale goes through. Just as a courtesy I’m contacting all the landlords in the block to let them know. Yourself included.’

  ‘I see – and are you looking for a contribution?’

  ‘No, not at all. We’re happy to do the work ourselves. Like I said, it’s a courtesy call.’

  Bryce sat back now and looked at me with smiling but confused eyes.

  I wonder what he’d do if I reached over the desk and kissed him right now? My mind played out this erotic scenario as he stared at me. I could have grabbed him right then and there. I had never known such an intense, electric feeling before. It was overpowering.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ he offered.

  ‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ I replied, equally polite. If only he knew what I am thinking!

  ‘That’s really good of you, Dawn,’ Bryce said as he got up and filled the kettle in the sink behind him. ‘So, I hear you’re in property. Is that right? How many properties have you got?’

  ‘Erm, currently around one hundred and thirty,’ I replied, undressing him in my mind. I had never done this before, never felt like this before. How am I going to see this man again? At that moment, nothing else mattered in the world.

  ‘And are you looking for more?’ he went on sweetly.

  ‘Always.’

  ‘What about managers?’

  ‘Oh, we manage our own properties.’

  ‘It’s a great time to be in this business, isn’t it? Prices are rocketing at the moment. We’ve got some great properties on our books.’

  ‘Really? Anything for me to look at?’

  ‘Maybe. I mean, you know that we manage rentals, don’t you?’

  ‘Hmm.’ I did know that. In fact, I could see where he was going with this. He wanted our managing business, but I didn’t want to give it to him. No, I wanted something else entirely . . .

  But, as he passed a cup of tea to me across the desk, I couldn’t help noticing the ring on his finger. My heart sank. He belonged to someone else! For the next hour we talked business, only, though afterwards I couldn’t for the life of me remember what was said. All I knew was that I had to have this man.

  Suddenly it was 7.30 p.m., which meant I had to get home or risk Stuart’s wrath. After his stunt two weeks before at the gym, I’d been walking on eggshells and didn’t want to set him off.

  ‘Look, I’ve got to go but it was really nice to meet you,’ I said.

  ‘Dawn,’ he said formally as he got up, grinning, and shook my hand, placing the other over the top. My hand was encased now and I didn’t want to let go. It felt safe, somehow, like he was protecting me.

  ‘Look, we really appreciate your work on Dean Street,’ he said as he showed me out. ‘It’s very good of you and I’m sure my partners would be interested in meeting you. My firm has a table at the Macmillan charity gala in a couple of weeks. I’d be delighted if you would join us?’

  ‘Yeah, that sounds good,’ I said solemnly. Stay calm, stay calm, Dawn! I shouted at myself inside.

  ‘Great – I’ll get my secretary to email yours with the details.’

  And, with that, I turned around and left, my heart thumping like crazy. Outside, I walked quickly to my car and then, finally, when I got inside, I let out a massive sigh and my face broke into a large, stupid grin. Oh my God. Oh my God. OH MY GOD! I was in love! For the first time in my life, I was in love! I couldn’t stop myself smiling and laughing all the way home. I refused to let myself think about Bryce being married. Not because I didn’t care about his wife, but because it was just a fantasy to be with him, and that was all. I thought that after all this time with Stuart, I deserved a little daydream. And Bryce was certainly an unforgettable mystery man. I couldn’t wait to see him again to fuel my fantasies further. I couldn’t believe I had to wait two weeks. It was an eternity!

  That night I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to get this man out of my head. Over and over I replayed our meeting in his office, examining every detail, searching for signs that he fancied me too. From the moment I had heard his voice and laid eyes on Bryce Loweth, I was a woman possessed. I’d never felt this way before – it was incredible.

  I barely slept a wink that night and I was surprised that Stuart didn’t notice the change in me the next day. Wasn’t I transformed? Didn’t my face give me away? But no, he didn’t pick up on anything.

  That morning, I dressed in a hurry, eager to leave the house. I had to confide in someone or I would burst.

  ‘Hannah! Hannah, it’s happened!’ I blurted out as I strode into the office that morning. With the phone crooked between her neck and shoulder, Hannah was typing on the computer in front of her.

  ‘Hmm? What’s happened?’ she said distractedly.

  ‘It! Love! I’ve met him! I’ve met the one!’

  Hannah immediately slammed
down the phone and swivelled to face me in her chair, her whole body tense with anticipation.

  ‘Who? Who is it? Oh my God – tell me everything!’

  Now that I had her attention, I filled her in on what happened the night before and she shrieked and laughed with me all the way.

  ‘You’ve got to see him again!’ she said finally.

  ‘I know and I will. He’s invited me to a business dinner in two weeks,’ I said. ‘But he’s married!’

  ‘So what? So are you!’

  The next two weeks were hell, waiting for the next chance to lay eyes on Bryce again. In the meantime, I worked out every day, trying to exhaust myself so I didn’t lie in bed every night, thinking of him till the early hours. Bryce Loweth consumed my every waking thought. I wanted him so much but, at the same time, I had no idea how to get him; even if I should try.

  The night before the charity do, I went through my wardrobe with a fine toothcomb, trying to nail the perfect outfit. Nothing too sexy, I told myself. I didn’t want to arouse Stuart’s suspicions, plus this was a work do so, obviously, I had to be smart enough for everyone to take me seriously. In the end, I opted for a black Armani tuxedo.

  Simple but elegant, I told myself, as I turned to admire the trouser suit in the mirror. With a white silk blouse underneath, it definitely stood out from the average ballgown. Now sporting a sleek blonde bob and with blood-red nails and lipstick, I knew the whole ensemble exuded power and confidence. I wanted to look good, but I wanted to meet this man as an equal.

  Funnily enough, Stuart offered to drive me to the event. He did this more and more these days – I knew it was his way of keeping an eye on me, but it meant I had to be extra careful not to give myself away.

  ‘Sorry, no partners invited,’ I told him when he asked if he could join the table.

  ‘Fine, I’ll just stay at the bar and wait for you,’ he said, with a stern look in his eye. I had a curfew, and he didn’t want me to forget it.

  The ball was held in a swanky hotel half an hour out of town and, when we arrived, the large hotel was awash with the great and the good from our local business community. It was an upmarket, moneyed crowd, the type of people I was now used to mixing with. Even so, they all seemed to disappear the moment Bryce walked towards me, his hands extended in greeting and a great big smile on his face.