“Hey,” Esme said as she made herself comfortable. Aggie looked great, but then she always did. Her skin glowed and she wore a nice Prada shirt that Esme had seen in the mags not long ago. Maybe she should ask about her skincare routine? “How are you?”
“Good,” Aggie said. “Same, I guess. How is Felix? Still missing in action.”
“Basically. He and Shania are just caught up in themselves.”
“Playing house,” Aggie said distastefully.
Esme felt it was more than playing at this point, but Aggie was in one of her ‘hate relationships’ period, which she sometimes developed when she wasn’t in one. As cool as Aggie was, she just couldn’t get it together in the guy department.
“Us single girls will just have to stick together,” Aggie continued. “It seems everyone is pairing off. First Quentin, now Alistair and Felix. Rashida. Megan. It’s quite disheartening. Tell me you’re not seeing anyone.”
Esme didn’t quite know what to say. She should say no, because, technically, she wasn’t seeing anyone as such. Then again, the chances were that things would have to come out with Inns, particularly as they were doing it hot and heavy in Aggie’s actual house. They had almost been caught the other day and Esme had literally had to sneak out because she hadn’t been ready for Aggie to know. So, it really was time to bite the bullet. It wasn’t like it was anything serious, just friends with benefits, minus the friends part. “Well, actually.”
“God, not you too,” Aggie said with exasperation.
“Well, kind of not really,” Esme said, wringing her hands together, trying to think how to put this.
“What?” Aggie said, obviously picking up on her reticence.
“Turns out recently, I’m kind of dabbling a little bit with Inns?”
“Who?” Aggie said.
“Inns.” Esme held her breath, but Aggie still looked lost. “Innocent.”
“Inns, my cousin?” she said with astonishment and disbelief. “You’re sleeping with Inns? Why? God, I think I just threw up in my mouth. Why?”
Alright, Esme had no actual answer for that. She felt like a complete idiot now, looking at it from Aggie’s point of view. “Convenience? It’s just fucking, nothing more, I swear.”
Aggie was still staring at her. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Potentially. It’s just we’re in the same class and… ” There really wasn’t any way of finishing that sentence. “One thing led to another.”
“And you thought getting it on would be a good idea? With Inns.”
“He isn’t exactly ugly.”
“He is every form of ugly.” Aggie shuddered. “Personality wise, he if the most repulsive human being on earth.”
“Perhaps a bit strong. Granted, he is a little antisocial.”
“And you’re like everything he despises. I think he’s even misogynistic.”
Esme sighed. “I’m not exactly stupid. I haven’t got any ideas of this going anywhere. It just happened. Sheer mechanics.”
“Esme,” Aggie chided, shaking her head. She sighed. “I would have thought Inns was too uptight to even know where his cock is. And I’m now in a position where I am talking about his cock because you’re insane. Jesus, Esme, I thought I had bad taste in men. You truly take the cake.”
Again, Esme didn’t really have anything to say. It wasn’t like she could defend Inns as such, because it wasn’t as if she thought he was any less an arsehole because she was sleeping with him.
“So are you like a couple now?” Aggie continued with exasperation in her voice.
“No!” Esme said, almost offended she would suggest such a thing. “We just occasionally… fuck.”
“Does Felix know?”
“Felix wouldn’t notice if we got up and moved away.”
“I hate to say it, but everyone in your family has atrocious taste in partners,” Aggie said. Esme almost felt a little offended. “Considering your brother has shacked up with a former stripper who also slept with his father.” Well, if put like that it did sound indefensible. “And you with Inns. It’s like you have this hereditary self-destructive streak.”
“Shania isn’t as bad as you make her sound.”
“Inns is, though.”
The sad thing was, that this confession was not getting her any closer to breaking it off with Inns. It was more like, now she could come over and not have to worry about getting caught. She didn’t even like him. Saying that, the sex was really nice, and the last time, he had actually opened up a bit, dropped that extreme defensiveness.
There was a real sadness in him, once he cracked himself open a bit. A loneliness, perhaps. He truly was the most isolated person she had ever met. He did it to himself, but still. Maybe it was that isolation that had attracted her, like a lost puppy, deserted and overlooked. Didn’t bypass the fact that he was a complete dick and his isolation was fully self-imposed.
“I know this guy, maybe I should set you up,” Aggie suggested.
“I don’t actually want a boyfriend right now,” Esme said. “Which is probably why fooling around with Inns appealed. It’s not like it’s ever going to go anywhere. Just a bit of light, you know, care-taking.”
“Ewwh. It actually turns my stomach thinking of Inns doing it. He’s pathologically OCD about anything being out of place. I would have though the whole process was too messy for him.”
Nope, Esme wanted to say, but restrained herself. In fact, Inns liked it quite messy. He was actually quite assertive, taking what he wanted, and Esme found that quite exciting. Her body tensed just thinking about it. Okay, she had developed a full hard-on for Inns. Just thinking about him made her insides clench. None of her relationships had been so sexually driven. Alright, this one was exclusively sexually driven. And she would rather take the hit of everyone knowing about it than give it up.
Aggie groaned. “We really are getting down to the dregs now, aren’t we?”
Chapter 37
It might not be the toughest week of Cheryl’s life, but it was close. The fact that she had gone through this before did help. All the salon stock sat in boxes on the floor, and the movers were just about to come and take them, along with the salon furniture and mirrors.
It was surprisingly easy to pack up in the end. The office was probably more problematic with all the paper records. The back of the office cupboards had gotten quite dusty; probably because she never opened them other than to shove in yet another set of monthly accounts.
Everything was going to a storage locker until she decided what to do with her life. Yet again, she was completely cut loose from her foundations. The boys knew something was going on, but not exactly what. She didn’t want to tell them until she actually had some direction.
What she really wanted to do was go to bed and pull her covers over her head. Marbella was supposed to be her town—where she started over, and everything had turned to dust. Like before, when her husband had stolen her business and sold it, she’d done nothing to bring on this destructive force. Well, she did marry Ricky, which was probably the biggest mistake of her life. But then, she had two gorgeous sons, and she couldn’t really regret that.
The packing tape made a harsh, protesting sound and she pulled it across the box, sealing it for some time in the future when she unpacked it again. Obviously, it couldn’t be Marbella. These vile rumours meant Marbella was out. She still didn’t know who was responsible or what she’d done to upset this person. Some people were just nasty, vindictive people. Cheryl didn’t think for a moment that this person regretted what they’d done. People like that didn’t. They probably sat and enjoyed the power they had exerted.
It didn’t matter. She had been unlucky and had run across someone nasty, someone evil. She would rebuild. It was scary and hard, but it could be done; she’d done it before. At this point, though, she had no clue where and how. She’d spent too much money trying to keep the salon afloat, in some useless attempt to weather the storm. The truth was that she would have bee
n better off shutting it down sooner, but how do you bring yourself to foresee things would have gotten so bad.
Lifting the box on top of another, she saw the moving truck backing into the carpark. So, here they were. It was time to cut her losses.
Burly men flowed into the salon and started picking up boxes. Cheryl directed them to take the chairs, wall fixtures and mirrors as well. Basically, she had a salon in a box. It would make it easier to set up somewhere else, once she found a place for her and her boys.
It wasn’t necessarily an easy prospect. Research had to be done to find a neighbourhood with a solid client base and not insane amounts of competition. A lot of the towns along the coast were already well established, so maybe it would be worth exploring some of the newer prospects, towns which British holiday makers were just discovering. It was a risk. Marbella had been her original choice because the town was established, though.
It hurt her head thinking about it. As she was emotional like this, it wasn’t a good time to make decisions. She would take some time to recover and recoup before deciding what to do. Rushing into something would probably backfire.
The men finished swiftly and before long, Cheryl was standing in an empty space with parquet floors and white walls. There were some mirror tiles that would only break if she tried to remove them. That was all that was left. A couple of lost pieces of paper lay on the ground and Cheryl gathered them up, knowing she would probably never find where they belonged again. Hopefully they would not turn out to be that crucial piece of evidence if she ever got audited.
With a sigh, she looked around the place one last time. She’d fought so hard for this salon. It had been the embodiment of her hopes and dreams, but that was over now. Her hopes and dreams were a thriving business and a happy home for her family. Marbella wasn’t the place for that, so it was time to move on. Shame, but no use crying over spilt milk. Well, she’d already cried her heart out. The shock of this had passed.
Stepping outside, she turned the lock and stepped away. The last thing to do was to hand over the keys. She looked like crap—jeans, no makeup and her hair barely brushed. Not that it mattered now. There was no point keeping the game face. She had resoundedly lost.
Still, she wanted to hand the keys over to Dominic personally if possible. He had been nice to her when no one else had been—at a time where he could have been anything but.
In her dusty flats, she walked over to the main Dunbury Industries building and told the receptionist she wanted to see Dominic Dunbury, getting an incredulous look when she admitted she didn’t have an appointment. Apparently, one didn’t just rock up and ask to see the CEO at a moment’s notice.
“I will inform his office,” the girl said, still unimpressed by Cheryl’s request. Cheryl heard a woman on the other end of the line, probably Fennie. “He will see you,” the receptionist said, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.
Cheryl walked to the lifts, again aware of how unprofessional she looked in her jeans and blouse, arriving at the very top of the building. It took a while to orientate herself, but she soon saw who she assumed was Fennie walking toward her.
“This way, Mrs. Waters,” the woman said with a smile and Cheryl knew that voice. Fennie had always been kind, but she had a toughness to her which was probably necessary in a CEO’s personal assistant.
Fennie led her to a door and Cheryl entered a large room. Dominic sat behind a desk, chatting on the phone. So this was where he spent his time, from where he ran his empire. The view was wonderful. She hadn’t seen anything but the road from the salon, but from here, she could see the coast in the distance, the expanse of Marbella township in front of her.
“Cheryl,” Dominic said and stood. “How can I help you?”
His eyes roamed over her, probably noting her complete lack of professional togetherness. With a sigh, she smiled. This was actually harder than she’d thought—having to admit her failure. “I’ve come to hand over the keys to the salon, the property, I mean.”
Dominic was quiet for a moment. “I wasn’t aware that you were struggling.”
“It happened quickly, actually,” she said, feeling the prickle of failure again. “I live by my reputation and mine took a nosedive rather quickly.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Rumours,” she filled in. “Nasty and untrue ones, but the truth can’t compete against such things.”
“I am sorry to hear that.”
“Well, I wanted to thank you for the consideration you’ve shown me. I suppose I will be a thorn out of your side now. You can do what you want to with that part of the property.”
“So we will not be neighbours anymore,” he said. Cheryl had difficulty looking him in the eye and instead tried to focus on the view. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said with a tight smile. “Regroup. Find a new town, I guess.”
“You cannot simply get a new location?”
“No, I am afraid the damage runs deeper.”
“I am sorry.”
She really didn’t need sympathy right now. It was hard to deal with the loss on its own without having to deal with other people’s sympathy.
“Have you got sufficient funds?” He’d moved around the desk to take the keys.
Cheryl smiled. Why did he always offer such extraordinary gestures? People underestimated how generous a man he was. She reached out and touched him on the arm as a sign of gratitude for the gesture. “I should be alright. I’m not skint and have enough for a move. Luckily, my salon packs wholesale, so setting up somewhere shouldn’t be difficult. I better go.”
“Let me know if I can do anything.” There was that sympathy again, that kindness that was threatening to undo her resolve to stay strong.
It was awkward saying goodbye to him. It wasn’t like they knew each other well enough that embracing was appropriate, even if he was so extraordinarily generous. Instead, she held out her hand. “All the best,” she said.
“And to you, Cheryl.”
A last smile and Cheryl turned and walked out. That had been hard, emotionally taxing, but perhaps it was the sum of the day that had left her so utterly drained.
Chapter 38
Esme walked ahead of him, leading them out of the lecture theatre. She turned to see if he was still following, looking good in her short, pale pink skirt and matching sneakers. The cream cardigan to keep away the chill of the lecture theatre hung off one of her shoulders, showing tanned, smooth skin. Everything about her looked luscious and perfect.
When he’d first met her, he’d thought she looked ridiculous with all her clothes, the time she took to make them match, imagining she spent hours in front of the mirror. It was a different story now that he knew those clothes came off. He imagined she’d considered him when she’d chosen what to wear and he found that extremely erotic.
The heat outside was sometimes like a punch, having been inside in nicely air-conditioned spaces. He tended to forget the heat.
Esme walked to a shaded bench and sat down, crossing her lovely, long legs. Part of him wanted to drag her into some dark cupboard, which they had done numerous times now. But there was no rush, exactly. That period when he felt he had to get as much as possible before she shut him down was something he was learning to let go. There was something to appreciating in the anticipation as well.
“Are you going to come over later?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll drop some things off at home first, unless you want to come with.”
Not a bad idea. Esme’s house was always empty.
Inns shrugged.
“What do you think of this?” Esme said and pulled out a little vial of liquid, pulling out a tiny cork. She pushed it to his nose and he smelled. It smelled girly.
“What is it?”
“I’m thinking of using this as a base for my products. It’s patchouli and lime. This is concentrated, of course, and it would need some tweaking.”
“I’m really not the person
to ask. Seems very summery, though. Tropical.”
“Good,” she said and put the little vial away. “I need to get a proper perfumist to put the scent together—a professional. It will probably cost a fortune.”
Perfume had never been something Inns had ever thought that much about, except for buying his mother’s favourite Chanel at the chemist every Christmas. “I didn’t know they had professional perfumists.”
“Oh yeah, they’re highly trained.”
Inns lost interest. “Should we go?”
“So you’re coming to my place first?” Which was in reality asking if he was coming to her place to have sex, and the answer was yes. He could feel himself tightening already. That was the thing with girls: you got addicted to the sex. Easy, constant sex. It was worth keeping her sweet and mellow just for that.
In the beginning, he’d fought, then he’d given in to the fucking and the excitement. Now, he was getting used to her, the way she thought and how she was.
Yes, she was a girl and utterly mad, too congenial by half. It was important to her that people liked her. Inns saw it as a weakness. Part of him had seen that letting him fuck her was a weakness too. He’d wondered what she got out of it. It was an answer he hadn’t reached, but for some reason, she liked having him near.
Saying that, she wasn’t pushy. When a girl in class had asked if they were a couple, she’d said no. But they were fucking like they were a couple. Well, he assumed; he didn’t actually know.
This business venture was all she ever thought about. Whenever she talked, it was about the decisions she’d reached. The scent was apparently currently on the cards. He had to give her credit for being thorough. This venture wasn’t something she was doing half-arsed, and she seemed to value his opinion. It was hard not to see that as an ego booster.
All in all, Esme Dunbury was softening him up. Her presence didn’t grate, and the rewards for good behaviour were compelling. Still, he wasn’t going to change himself. It was a take it or leave it thing. If she hoped spreading her legs would make him an angel, she was sadly mistaken.
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