The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone

by D H Sidebottom

  I was embarrassed that I had shown my awkwardness when it was nothing to do with me what he did with other women.

  He nodded at my statement and turned to leave. “A sandwich will do, Ava and I ask again, please call me Mason.”

  I raised my eyes to him and nodded my confirmation before he disappeared out of the room.

  Flicking the kettle on, desperate for caffeine, I busied myself emptying the bags and filling the fridge.

  I quickly made him a beef salad on rye bread and placed it on a plate with a side portion of crisps, accompanying it with a bottle of water and a coffee I took it up to his office.

  Knocking lightly I smiled when I heard his acknowledgement. “Yep,” his voice shouted. I wondered if he ever said ‘come in.’

  I opened his door and walked in, setting the tray on his desk.

  “Layla, babe, calm the fuck down and trust me, I said I’ll see to it . . .” He spoke into the phone whilst he watched me, smiled and mouthed a thank you.

  I nodded and turned to leave the room.

  “Ava,” he said behind me. I glanced round my shoulder at him, noticing as I turned that his gaze quickly lifted from my backside to my face. “I’m going to be out for most of the afternoon, is there anything you need to know before I go?” he inquired as he held his hand over the mouthpiece on his phone.

  I shook my head, “No, everything’s fine. I’ll be leaving around 6pm, is that okay?”

  He nodded and smiled. I turned to leave but I quickly spun back round. “Did you need me to fix anything for your dinner before I go?”

  “No, I have an engagement tonight so I’ll be eating out but thank you.” His face seemed to cloud over as he said it and I knew he had finished talking to me.

  Nodding, I left the room, wondering if his ‘engagement’ was with a woman but quickly banished that idea from my head.

  It was nothing to do with me but I couldn’t help feel the stab of something resembling jealousy again.

  Absurd, Ava!

  * * *

  Mason shouted that he was leaving but didn’t look in on me.

  I decided to bake him some cookies and brownies because he had told me he had a sweet tooth. I enjoyed cooking, it helped to relax me. George had often been experimented on, sometimes turning green in my trial periods, yet he always ate whatever I made in earnest. Often we had both ended up in hysterics at the faces he pulled, but he wouldn’t tell me how awful it was.

  I had persevered and now my culinary skills were a lot better, my love of cooking reflecting in some perfect dishes I created.

  My friends were always insisting that I cook for them. It gave me a secret pride in myself knowing I could create something that people enjoyed.

  I placed the baked treats on a plate and then placed them in the fridge, and at 6pm I made my way home.

  * * *

  Pulling up in front of my cottage I noticed my friend Courtney sat on my doorstep. Her face was tear-streaked. When she spotted me she shrugged and gave me a nervous laugh.

  I cocked my head at her sympathetically. “Not again,” I sighed to her as I pulled her up and embraced her. She sobbed in to my shoulder as I hugged her. “Come on, let’s go in and open some wine.”

  She smiled and followed me in, slumping onto my couch as I got the wine and glasses from the kitchen.

  As I returned to her she took one look at me then the tears flowed again. I quickly pulled her against me. “Courtney, why do you keep doing this to yourself?” I asked and I felt her shrug.

  “I dunno Ava, I love him” she sobbed.

  I shook my head at her, my anger at her behaviour plainly showing on my face, “But how many times is he going to cheat on you? This is the third time and while I can understand you taking him back after the first, why let it keep happening? I don’t want to hurt you hun, but he obviously doesn’t care about you in the same way, otherwise he wouldn’t do this to you.”

  She sobbed and shrugged again as I stroked her hair. “Courtney, you are worth so much more than this” I told her, meaning every word.

  We had met at the business and finance course we had both done at night school. George had insisted that I get some qualifications as a backup if anything happened to him and I had made some loyal, great friends; Courtney being my closest as we had hit it off straight away, having lots in common as we had discovered we had both grown up in foster care. She was the only one I could open up to about my childhood. Her experiences of foster care had been exceptionally better than mine but she still had the same sense of not belonging anywhere.

  She pulled away from me and reached over for her wine, taking a large mouthful she turned to me, her pale face even pastier, “I walked in on them this time.” She gulped down the tears and my heart broke for her.

  “Oh no, Courtney.” I immediately grabbed her hand but she pulled it away, her brow furrowing as though she didn’t quite know how to say the next part.

  “It was . . . it . . . it was Tracey,” she whispered the name as though it stabbed her.

  I shot off the couch, staring at her in astonishment, “What the hell. I’ll fucking kill her.” I was so angry.

  Tracey was supposedly one of our circle of friends, but obviously not.

  Courtney shook her head vehemently and pulled on my hand. “No! Ava, I know what you’re like, you’ll kill her!” she argued.

  “Too damn right I will. The conniving bitch! How long’s it been going on? Did he tell you?” I know I was barraging her with questions but my rage had taken over.

  She shook her head again, “I don’t know, I just stared at his arse pounding away at her then just walked out the door and closed it quietly. I heard him shout my name but I just came over here. I needed to be with you.” She shrugged again and I sat back beside her, taking her hand in mine again.

  “Courtney, please, for me . . . don’t take him back this time. This is the worst betrayal ever.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I don’t know which one of them has hurt me the most?” she added then reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of vodka, “Let’s get wasted.” She grinned at me and I laughed as my phone beeped a text message:

  Ava, the cakes and cookies are orgasmic

  Thank you

  Mason

  I grinned at the pleasure curling through me, then chastised myself. He was just saying thank you that was all, nothing more.

  I quickly replied after saving his number into my contacts:

  You are very welcome Mr Fox . . . enjoy

  Ava

  “What are you grinning at?” Courtney asked, narrowing her eyes on me.

  I shrugged at her, feigning nonchalance. “I baked some cakes for my new boss and he was just saying thank you,” I said, not looking at her, my little finger between my teeth.

  She tapped my arm. “Out with it, girl” she probed. I sighed, knowing it was a waste of time trying to hide my feelings from Courtney, she knew me better than I knew myself.

  “He’s just nice, that’s all.”

  “Nice as in nice or nice as in hot?”

  I decided to be honest with her. “I dunno what it is, but he really gets to me, like physically. But I also find him unnerving, he’s very mercurial. One minute he’s checking me out and flirting, then the next he’s closed off and intimidating.”

  She cocked her head at me, a gleam in her eyes. “Well holy hell! You’re finally attracted to a man” she said it as though it was a miracle.

  “Courtney, it’s not that.” I lied but she raised her eyebrows.

  “Don’t lie, Ava. I know you and in the four years we have been friends you have pushed every man away. You’ve had plenty of male attention but you have never been attracted to any of them and now this . . . it’s great you feel like this. I was actually starting to wonder if you were gay after all.”

  She laughed and I slapped her arm, “Well it doesn’t matter. Nothing will come of it. For one he’s my boss, two he’s a player and three, I won’t let any
one in, no matter what.”

  She wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Ava, you can’t live the rest of your life around your past. You deserve happiness and you need to grab it while you feel it. I’m not saying you should jump straight into bed with the guy, but just play it by ear and then face it again if it gets any heavier between you both. Even if he is a player, maybe that’s what you need, a one night stand, no emotions involved. Enjoy the way it feels, enjoy the attention and the flirting. You never know you might actually enjoy it.” She grinned as she poured us both a large glass of alcohol and gave me mine.

  She clinked glasses with me. “To best friends who pull each other through,” she saluted.

  I loved this girl so much, how she coped with everything. “Best friends,” I returned. “But I’m still flooring Tracey.”

  CHAPTER 4

  I WOKE THE next morning with a hangover from the pits of hell, not good for my second day at work.

  After quickly showering and dressing in my brown skirt and soft pink, cashmere sweater and pulling on my knee-high brown boots I phoned for a taxi. There was no way I was driving, I was most probably still over the limit.

  Pulling my long hair in to a loose French plait and trying to hide my deathly appearance in the mirror, I worried what Mason would make of my pale face and red eyes. I didn’t look very professional and it looked obvious that I had a hangover.

  All the way to his house, I chewed on my finger in the back of the taxi, nervous as what to tell him but when I let myself in, he wasn’t anywhere in sight and I let out a huge breath of relief.

  I quickly set about my duties and answered the landline phone many times, taking messages and informing people that Mason wasn’t available.

  After I had baked a carrot cake and was sliding it on to the cooling rack the phone rang again. “Hello, Mr Fox’s residence” I answered, the phone tucked under my chin as I tried to steer the cake in the right direction and still squinting my eyes against my pounding head.

  “Oh hi, is Mason there?” a woman said in a soft tone, her voice was one of those that you knew would send you to sleep within ten minutes, a relaxing quality to it.

  “No, I’m sorry; he’s not available at the moment. Can I take a message?” I inquired.

  “Is this Ava?” she asked. I finally gripped the phone properly having navigated the cake successfully.

  “It is, yeah.”

  She was quiet for a moment, “Well if you tell him Kerrie rang and to ring me back please?”

  I smiled at her pleasant manner. “Sure, I’ll let him know.” She thanked me and said goodbye.

  Ending the call, I groaned against my headache and held my head in my hands, resting my elbows on the worktop.

  “Are you okay, Ava?” Mason asked from behind me, and as usual I jolted in alarm. “Oh dear, there I go again.” His voice held no humour though and I turned to look at him, nodding.

  “Yes I’m fine, just a headache.” I lied.

  His eyes narrowed on me. “You look like shit Ava, are you ill?” His tone held concern, along with his eyes that were flicking over my face swiftly. I shook my head again, trying to smile and keep the approaching nausea at bay.

  His head tipped as he scrutinized me. “Well, you look fucking ill,” he barked and I flinched at his firmness.

  “I’m fine, Mr Fox, just a headache.”

  His eyes searched mine and then widened as a grin broke out on his face. “Are you hung over?” Amusement lit his face and I swallowed, “You look a little green, Ava.” He laughed as I closed my eyes and groaned.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr Fox. I don’t usually come to work like this but my friend has been having a few problems and she turned up at my house in tears . . . with vodka,” I shrugged, hoping my truthfulness would help the situation.

  He tipped his head, “Well it’s good to know that you’re a loyal friend, and if ever I need a shoulder to cry on all I need is a bottle of vodka . . . and you.” He winked, turned and left the room leaving me froze in place.

  What the hell was that all about?

  I shook myself and switched on the coffee machine, still pondering his words.

  I knocked on his office door armed with coffee and a slice of frosted carrot cake.

  “Yep.” I smiled at his summoning and opened the door.

  Smiling at him, I placed the tray on his desk and handed him the messages I had taken all morning. “Some messages, Mr Fox and Kerrie rang and asked if you could return her call.” He nodded and peered at the cake.

  “Do you bake all these cakes you keep bringing me?” he asked. I felt the blush creeping up my neck as I nodded in reply.

  He frowned at me. “Don’t be embarrassed Ava, your cooking is delicious. As I told you last night . . . orgasmic,” he said huskily. The throb was back, causing me to swallow harshly as a slow grin lit his face, “They really are delicious and I’m glad you make them for me. I love sweet things.” There was that sexy tone again and I quickly changed the subject.

  “Is there anything specific you need me to do today, Mr Fox?” I asked around my little finger.

  He tipped his head, his gaze on my mouth. “Do you always bite your finger when you’re nervous, Ava?”

  My hand shot to my side as I shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t realise I’m doing it.”

  “Don’t apologise for who you are Ava,” he said sternly.

  Mr Unpredictable was back and I flushed at his statement as he glowered at me. I fidgeted nervously, “If that’s all, Mr Fox I’ll get back to work?”

  His eyes cleared and he nodded, “I’m expecting someone later, if you can show him up when he gets here please?”

  “Yes, that’s fine,” I replied with a nod and turned, reaching for the door handle.

  “Oh and Ava,” he said as I opened it. “Please call me Mason. Please,” he practically begged, his mood now shifted again.

  I smiled widely. “Okay, Mason.” He nodded and broke into a smile as I said his name.

  * * *

  An hour later there was a knock on the front door, a small thin man stood on the doorstep.

  “Hi,” he said nervously. I could feel his nervousness and fear, making me frown. “I’m here to see Mr Fox, Robert Nolan” he informed me then gulped. I nodded, letting him pass and into the entranceway.

  I took his coat from him and smiled encouragingly as I tried to soothe his obvious nerves. “Would you like to follow me, Sir?” He just nodded grimly causing me to frown at him but he followed me up the stairs, a slight drag to his feet.

  I knocked on Mason’s door. “Yep.” I opened the door and entered.

  “Mr Robert Nolan’s here.” I saw a flicker behind Mason’s eyes, something resembling anger.

  He nodded. I opened the door wider, gesturing the man in. He looked a little pale and I wondered if he was sporting a hangover too.

  I smiled and turned to leave. “Ava, make sure we’re not disturbed please,” Mason ordered sternly.

  I nodded and left, noticing the man was pressed up against the back wall, his paleness now looking a little green.

  Deciding to sort Mason’s laundry I walked across the huge landing, opening many doors before I found his room.

  When I entered, the sight of his bed took my breath away. It was a huge, antique wooden four poster outfitted with pale blue bedding. The rest of the room coordinated the blue, giving it softness but with a masculine feel.

  Two large French windows opened up onto a balcony overlooking the garden and I walked over to the doors, opening them and stepping out. The view was stunning, a vista of peace and tranquillity and as I looked around I noticed a hot tub in the corner of the veranda, my mind wandered as I imagined Mason sat in it, a naked woman writhing about on top of him.

  God damn it Ava!

  I admonished my thoughts and quickly walked back in the room.

  Noticing a door in the corner I entered the bathroom. A pristine aqua décor gave it again a soothing but masculine feel. What did surprise
me though was the number of candles in the room, not a very manly style but it made me smile.

  Mason obviously enjoyed the relaxation of a soak like the rest of us but then my thoughts turned ugly as I thought about the women that they might be for.

  I quickly shook myself and pulled his laundry from the basket and left his room.

  As I walked back across the landing I heard Mason shouting, the rage in his voice freezing me in place. The other man was trying to say something but Mason wouldn’t let him get a word in. The malevolence in his voice grounded me, reality slamming into me just how merciless and vicious this man was and even though I had heard plenty whilst being in George’s care, I realised that George’s fury had been nowhere near the extent of this man’s.

  I heard a thud and scurried back down the stairs quietly, recognising the noise for what it was.

  * * *

  I heard the man leave through the front door. I was grateful for the fact that I didn’t have to face him as he left.

  My phone rang from the confines of my bag and as I checked the display I was the one now full of fury.

  “Tracey,” I greeted harshly as I turned to look out of the window, closing my eyes to try and rein in my temper.

  “Ava, please” she pleaded quietly, the tone in her voice shifting high and low as she struggled against the nerves. “Please listen for a moment.”

  I ground my teeth and kept quiet, secretly enjoying her discomfort but feeling the growth of the fury that was always buried in me; the result of my childhood always simmering within me.

  “Ava, I need to talk to Courtney but she won’t answer my calls.”

  That was it, my fury surged. “What the fuck do you expect, Tracey?” I asked savagely, “You’re screwing her boyfriend.”

  She coughed slightly. “Well I know but . . .” she started. I smirked as I sensed her fear but interrupted her, trying to focus on a large willow in the garden.

  “Tracey, let me just get one thing straight,” I grated through my teeth. “You so much as look at Courtney, then believe me, I will rip your fucking throat out and ram it up your arse. Now fuck off and don’t call me again.” I abruptly ended the call and sucked in a breath, slamming my phone on the counter.