The Man In The Mirror: A Billionaire Romance

by Georgia Le Carre

  "Go get the gardener, Zackary," she said.

  He ran off and she came over to me. "Thank you, Brett, for taking the time for us."

  "I should be thanking you,” I said to her. And I really meant it. It had been the best hour of my life.

  Zackary was racing over to us. “Brian is coming,” he shouted excitedly.

  “Let’s head over to the tap to wash off these grass stains,” she said to him.

  At the tap, exactly what I expected happened. Charlotte sprayed Zackary with a blast from the hosepipe and I watched as they got into a little water fight. I would have been fully included, but neither was familiar with me as of yet, so I got off with a few stray blasts.

  Our laughter rang out into the early afternoon skies, and it was a memory I knew I would never forget. Charlotte was soaked, her white blouse glued to her chest and giving me a perfect view of her breasts. I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Zackary, go and ask for some towels from Mrs. Blackmore,” I instructed.

  He hurried away obediently towards the kitchens.

  I would have approached her, but it turned out she was the one in that moment who longed for me even more than I did her.

  “Let's call a truce she said." I felt the heat of her gaze. We were drenched, but I felt like my whole body was on fire. Her earlier rejection felt like a forgotten memory. The bulge of her nipples through the white cotton material hardened me even further, and more than anything I wanted to have them in my mouth.

  "Will you take your mask off?" She took a step forward and to my surprise my feet took me backwards.

  I could not believe I was retreating. She took another then but this time, I forced myself to hold still. Cowardice was not a word I acknowledged in anything that I did, and it wasn't going to start with her.

  "You're the one who can't seem to look me in the eyes now," she said, and her tone was anything but smug. She looked terrified, and yet unable to control herself from coming forward.

  Her hands were on my shoulders for support, and before I could work out her full intention her lips were on mine. She kissed me, her tongue softly nudging my lips apart. For a few seconds, I relished the taste that was solely hers.

  Then I crushed my lips to hers.

  My strength pushed her backwards so with my arm around her waist I cushioned the impact as her back connected with the old wall. My mouth feasted on her lips and then sucked on the plump bottom one. The kiss was desperate, and all-consuming.

  Somewhere in the distance I heard Zackary call out to her, but I still couldn't pull away from her.

  “Charlotte? Where are you?” his little voice rang out.

  Eventually when his voice got too close, I found the will. I ended the kiss, and turning around, walked away. But it felt as if I was walking on air.

  My whole world was shaken. Now I knew. I could not let Charlotte go.

  Chapter 41

  Charlotte

  I watched him go, my nails digging into my palms.

  Zackary met him on the way, the towels in hand and for a moment he stopped, seemingly unsure of what to do without me there. He appeared even unable to look up at his father. Slowly, as if he was afraid to spook the boy, Brett lowered himself and silently held out his hand. I watched Zackary eventually find the courage to look him in the eye, and then shakily extend a towel out to him.

  I could almost feel the smile underneath his mask as he accepted the towel from his son, patted it across his forehead, then rose to his feet again.

  He turned around and shot me a glance. My hands were flattened against the stone wall to keep me stable, and I was still breathing hard. The look he gave me was searing. I just stared back at him. When he looked away and took his leave, I shut my eyes and prepared myself to be normal for Zackary.

  Opening my eyes, I dropped to the ground, my arms spread out for a hug. Zackary ran into them. In just a short time he had transformed into the sweetest child I’d ever known.

  “Thank you,” I whispered almost tearfully in his ear.

  “You’re welcome,” he said handing me the towel.

  He thought I was thanking him for the towel, but I was being grateful to him for not freaking out and for trying his very best to welcome his father.

  We went back indoors and the rest of the day passed with lessons and his schedule of activities. When evening came upon us we went in for dinner; this time I allowed Zackary to have his meal with the rest of the staff. I had to admit I was nervous that at any moment his mother would return to meet the scene of her son sharing his meal with the servants and completely lose it.

  But I didn’t lose my nerve.

  I opened a window, even though it had turned quite cold, and kept an ear open for the sounds of cars approaching. Instead of his carefully prepared, highly nutritious meals, I allowed him to eat the same food as us all. It wouldn’t hurt just this once. Soon I would be gone and I wanted him to enjoy my last few days here.

  It was one of the best meals we have ever had. Mr. Boothsworth produced a bottle of gooseberry gin his friend made at home. It was strong stuff and Mrs. Blackmore got drunk after one glass. It was funny to watch her. She started tickling Zackary and flirting openly with Mr. Boothsworth and it was finally clear to everybody that they had a thing going on in secret. It made me quite happy to see them like that.

  Carrie and Bella were as merry as I’d ever seen them, and I laughed at the appalled expression on Zackary’s face when they took turns in stealing bits of sausage from his toad in the hole.

  The alcohol had gone to my head as well. Coupled with the magic of the day and the lovely floating feeling, I returned to my room emotionally and physically exhausted, but happy.

  I found myself immediately going towards the window and standing by it, wishing his silhouette would appear. How long I remained there, hoping, I wasn’t sure, but eventually thunder struck across the sky, and soon the cold, ferocious rain came pouring down. Just as I had given up the idea of seeing him, he appeared. This time I knew for certain that he was staring directly at me … watching me … craving me just as I was him.

  I placed my hand on my chest to settle my erratic heart, wondering if responding to it and to him was the way to go. What good could possibly come out of this besides my heart being broken when it all came to an end?

  He wanted me, but I was not deceived that it was anything more than just a sexual longing on his part. What would it take to fuck you? No, I wasn’t deceived as to what our positions in the world were. I was only a nanny, to Jillian, I was even her servant, while he held the baton of wealth and prestige.

  Maybe that was my shield of goodness. The impossibility of us ever being together meant I wouldn’t give in to the raging lust in my body. It was my default to always give a hundred percent, but 100 percent would not be needed this time. All there would be is time to just revel in it and tuck away the memories of whatever moments I could find in his arms.

  Memories to be taken out and relived when I was old.

  I shivered from the chill and turned away to head down the stairs. I was suddenly thirsty and cold. During weather like this my mother always used to brew us both a cup of tea. I decided I would do that. I was halfway down the stairs when I realized I had not brought my baby monitor, but I knew he was sleeping deeply and I would only be a few minutes.

  Sure enough less than ten minutes later I had the steaming mug in hand and I was making my way across the dimly lit house when a sudden scream shook the house. I almost let go of the mug as my heart jumped into my throat. It was Zackary, there was no mistaking it. Before I could even start running towards him, I heard the thudding sound of a body rolling and tumbling. The mug fell from my hands and crashed on the stone floor as I started running towards the stairs. To my horror, I saw Zackary’s white little body falling down the stairs, hitting every hard step, in a dead silence. I almost passed out in fear.

  “Zackary,” I screamed, and raced towards him.

  He lay sprawled at t
he bottom, motionless, face down. No, no, no. I was so frightened my knees felt like jelly as I fell to my haunches next to him.

  “Zackary,” I called, my entire being stricken with panic.

  I turned him around. He was breathing, but his eyes were closed and a blue bruise was already forming on his forehead. But even worse his mouth was full of blood. Red blood seeped out of his mouth, scaring the shit out of me.

  Without moving him, I ran back up the stairs to grab my phone. The tears were rolling down from my eyes as I dialed 999. I managed to make myself understood and requested an ambulance. Then I hit the intercom and screamed for anybody at all to come to the bottom of the stairs.

  Mrs. Blackmore was the closest and she was the first to arrive. Her hair was in blue rollers and she was wearing a long white nightgown. “What happened?” she cried, her face pale without her make-up.

  Before I could answer, Mr. Boothsworth came hurrying in. He had drunk too much at dinner and he looked a bit confused. Then from the top of the stairs Brett appeared.

  “What the fuck?” he exploded as he ran down the stairs and knelt beside his son’s still body.

  “I’ve called the ambulance,” I said, my voice shaking. I tried my best not to cry as I stared at the helpless child. I felt so guilty. If I had taken the baby monitor I would have heard him calling out. I shouldn’t have had that drink. I was supposed to be working.

  Mr. Boothsworth positioned himself next to Brett. “I used to work in a hospital. Let me,” he offered urgently.

  Immediately Brett moved to make space for him and Mr. Boothsworth moved his hands quickly over Zackary’s small body. “It doesn’t look like any of his bones are broken and his breathing is even so for now things are stable. I think we’ll risk it and take him to ER ourselves.”

  “Get a blanket,” Brett barked, and Mrs. Blackmore and I both started to run up the stairs, but she held out her hand to me to indicate that she would get it. Brett telephoned someone and ordered him to start the helicopter. He then called someone named Logan to prepare for the helicopter to land close to the hospital that was an hour’s drive away and have a car ready to pick him up.

  “Can I please come?” I begged.

  Brett nodded grimly, then he carefully lifted Zackary into his arms. Mr. Boothsworth opened the back door and Brett walked out into the night with his precious cargo and me following, with my heart in my mouth.

  While we were on our way to the landing pad Zackary started moaning. I was so happy to hear him conscious I started crying with joy. Gently, very gently, Brett spoke to him and stroked his hair. “It’s okay, Zackary. I’m here. You’re safe. Nothing bad can happen to you.”

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, it’s Daddy.”

  “My head hurts, Daddy.”

  “I know, darling. It’s just a temporary thing. We’re going to the hospital now and the doctors will make it all better. You have to be brave, okay?”

  “What happened?”

  “You fell down the stairs.”

  “I did?”

  Then he lost consciousness again and Brett stared ahead. I knew he was willing the journey to be over soon. His jaw was clenched so tight his skin, already so pale, looked bone white. For the rest of the journey I prayed, God how I prayed, that all would be well.

  Soon we were getting into a waiting vehicle and before long we arrived at the hospital. Staff took Zackary from us, put him on a gurney, and wheeled him away. I wanted to bawl my eyes out. Wordlessly his father drew me into his arms, and I held onto the front of his shirt in desperation. I loved that little boy so much, even the thought of him being hurt was unbearable.

  It seemed forever before the doctor returned. “You said he fell down a flight of stairs?”

  I nodded frantically.

  “It seems he has a concussion.”

  “What about the blood in his mouth,” I asked anxiously.

  “It looks like he just knocked a tooth loose, but we will find out more after some tests. Please calm down and wait patiently. The good news is he is currently not in much danger.”

  The relief I felt drained the strength from my legs and I would have sunk to the floor if Brett had not caught me and helped me to a chair.

  In time we were ushered to Zackary’s room. The lights were switched off and he was hooked up to equipment that bleeped and emitted a pale green glow. Neither Brett nor I tried to speak. We just sat there in complete silence. I stared down at the frail child and just prayed that no lasting damage had been done.

  After a while, Brett pulled my hand and we both exited the room. Outside, in the corridor it seemed too bright.

  “It’s my fault,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be silly. Accidents happen, it’s not your fault. He was probably just scared by the rain and wanted to find you.”

  “I should have taken the baby monitor with me,” I cried.

  “Come on. How were you to know? It won’t help him at all if you beat yourself up over this. I’ll call a car for you. Go back and get some rest. I’ll hang around here and make sure his test results are fine.”

  “I'll stay,” I said. “I won't be able to sleep anyway. Besides if he wakes up, I want him to see a familiar face.” And then I realized what I said, and quickly added. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”

  But he shook his head dismissively. “It’s not important. Don’t give it another thought.”

  “We can take turns,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said softly, and rubbing the back of his neck looked around him. “I can’t wait to take him back. As you can imagine I have quite the distaste for hospitals.”

  Chapter 42

  Charlotte

  "The same goes for me," I said.

  He turned to look at me. “Why is that?”

  "I had a friend who had acid thrown on her face by her ex. He swore if he couldn’t have her, no one would. So he had the great idea of splashing her face with acid. She lost an eye and her pain was so intense she was unable to even shut her eyes for a moment to sleep. She was a very beautiful girl and she couldn’t take it to see what she had become. I’d go to see her in hospital every day and she would say nothing. I knew she was awake, but she was unwilling to move, or speak, or acknowledge anyone at all. In the end she took her own life. And then my father went and died in one. So, you see, hospitals are not my favorite place either.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze boring into mine.

  I knew he was thinking about his own disfigurement.

  "Do you want something to drink?" he asked suddenly.

  I nodded and watched him leave. He was in a camel coat that went past his calves. Mrs. Blackmore had chosen it and brought it to him because it was just the right thickness for the weather, and he had carelessly thrown it over his shoulder, but it perfectly complemented the plain white shirt he had tucked into his dark gray slacks.

  The ensemble, although simple would have made anyone look regal, but coupled with the natural grace of his frame, and the layer of mystery and danger that the mask added to his demeanor, he almost looked too intimidating to approach.

  He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of juice and water. I chose the juice and lifted it to my lips while he kept the water by his side.

  “Aren’t you going to drink something?” I asked.

  “Later,” he replied, his gaze ahead and deep in thought.

  It was late at night and we were the only ones in that waiting room. “Who do you wear the mask for? Yourself or others?”

  He didn’t look away. “I wear it for myself because of others.”

  “Because they’ll pity you?”

  “Because they’ll make me angry. I don’t want any eyes on me …” He turned away. “I never did.”

  “What about my eyes?” I asked.

  For the longest time, he watched me without moving, until I lifted my hands. The moment I touched the sides of his face, he lowered his head. I went on, towards his ears, carefully, b
ut when I touched the string to pull it away, he caught my wrist.

  His touch seared me and I waited with bated breath. For what exactly, I was unsure.

  “Your pulse is racing,” he murmured.

  I said the first thought that came to mind. “I want to see you.”

  He smiled, sadly, and roved his eyes over my face, his gaze settling on my lips. “And I want to fuck you.”

  In that moment … the world, time … and my breathing slowed down. My heart stuttered in response, and it made me breathless. “Okay.”

  His eyes widened.

  I returned my gaze to his hold on my wrist, and began to reach again for the string around his ear.

  “Charlotte …” he warned, but I ignored him, overtaken by determination.

  “I want to look at you … please … let me.”

  Chapter 43

  Brett

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHuDGv53dcA

  Good Girls Go To Heaven (Bad Girls Go Everywhere)

  She was unraveling me, and I hated it.

  I was terrified … but at the same time I craved it. Sparks of excitement electrified my brain.

  I knew that she wouldn’t reject me, but I didn’t want her to know just how ugly I was. The way the nurses, the doctors, Jillian, the orderly who came into my room, my son reacted. Those memories told me she was going to get a shock. That somehow she had built it up in her mind that I had a few white scars like the one she had on her wrist.

  Then I looked into her eyes and suddenly, I knew I wanted her to see.

  If she showed disgust I would know then that it was over. I didn’t need to masturbate to fantasies of her every night, twice. I could forget her. Stop hoping and just go back to life as it was before she breezed into my life.

  My hold began to loosen around her wrist as she began to pull the string away.

  We were the only ones seated in the corridor, and although it was softy lit, the light was enough for her to have her fill. The mask came away in her hand, and I was revealed in all my hideousness. The scars, the skinless bits, the brutally mangled flesh. I didn’t dare meet her gaze, but as she traced her fingers over it as if in awe, my body trembled.