"He always has been. You know he is just like that.”
Lacey started crying again and Alex cursed herself for being tactless. "He can be really sweet, but then he turns around and guts you.”
"Don't mess around with him, Lacey. This isn't about you. He is two thousands ways of fucked up and he plays games. He's toying with you. It is just what he does and it has nothing to do with what you have or haven't done—no matter what he says.”
Lacey came out of the stall. "I know. I know he does this, but he pulls me in, and every time, I tell myself that he's finally realised what he prick he is. He even says so.” Lacey looked lost and angry.
Alex pulled her into a hug. "You just have to cut him loose. He is never going to change and you're wasting your energy on him. You need to turn your attention to someone else—a proper guy whose mother didn't lock him in a closet or whatever.”
Lacey chuckled, but her nose was red from crying. She looked awful. "I keep telling myself that, but then time passes and I go right back for more.”
"No more," Alex stated.
"No. No more," Lacey repeated. She turned to the mirror and groaned loudly with how she looked. "Game face," she said and marched out of the bathroom.
Alex turned her thoughts back to her own problem. She still needed a pitch—something Peter wouldn't savage, although now she was starting to wonder if Peter's foul mood hadn't been completely about her pitch.
Alex had a bad feeling when she woke the next morning. It was early, but the traffic outside had already built up. There was the usual competition for the bathroom, making Alex yearn for a time in the future when she'd have her own place. Maybe Marco was the one she would have that future with, she thought—a ray of sunshine creeping into the gloomy, dark morning.
The commute was wet and cold, making the pressing humidity in the Tube almost unbearable and Alex had to contort herself to avoid the water coming off some man's umbrella. But this was the price of being in London, she knew—these little inconveniences for what was otherwise an exciting and pumping city.
Her dread was confirmed as soon as she walked into the office. Lacey's desk had been cleared out. "Damn it," Alex swore. She'd known something was wrong.
Sitting down heavily at her desk, she logged onto her computer. An email was waiting for her in her company inbox.
Hey Sparks, it started. Sparks was the name Lacey sometimes used for her, but Alex never really knew why. I've decided I've had enough and since I can't seem to keep my head straight with 'him' around, I thought it was better to just not have him around. So I'm going home. All the best. You've been wonderful as a desk neighbor. Look me up if you're ever State-side. Love, Lacey.
Alex sighed and let her hands drop to the desk. She was sorry to see Lacey go, but she also understood. If Peter insisted on torturing her, she might as well move on, and that was going to be hard if she was eternally susceptible to him.
"Where's Lacey?" she heard Peter's crisp English accent behind her.
"Gone," Alex said, standing up. "Apparently she couldn't stand the sight of you anymore.” Grabbing her coffee cup, Alex strode past him to the coffee machine in the kitchenette.
* * *
Chapter 10:
* * *
Gavin's knee was bouncing up and down as they sat at one of the pub tables and his lips were a tight straight line. So far he hadn't said anything.
"You've got your new girl and Alex is ready to move on, too. It wasn't anything planned; it just happened.”
Gavin still didn't say anything, but moved uncomfortably in his seat.
"I know we're mates and this wasn't something either of us did to offend you. You've moved on and Alex is a really cool girl.”
Gavin started flipping his cigarette package over and over. "No, it's cool," Gavin finally said. In truth, there was little else Gavin could say. There were no respectable reasons for him to object, but Marco knew he wasn't happy. In Gavin's ideal world, Alex would swear off all men forever and spend her life pining for him, even as it was her that broke it off. "So what, you're like a couple now? Didn't think I'd see you all loved up. Thought you liked playing with the ladies without getting tied down.”
"I'm not tied down," Marco said, trying to not get offended. He knew Gavin was having a shot at him and under the circumstances, he should expect it. Gavin made a tsk noise like he thought Marco was deluding himself, which was rich coming from Gavin as he had a girlfriend—although it seemed that they were fighting a bit of late. Marco waited for the conversation to continue. The ball was in Gavin's court now and there were a number of ways he could take this, including reaching over the table and decking him. It would be seen as bad form, but Marco had to be prepared for any reaction.
Gavin looked away and stared out the window at the people hurriedly walking past outside. The muscles in his jaw popped out intermittently. "I got the new Gears of War game. It arrived this morning.” And with that, they were moving on and Marco relaxed.
"Yeah? You've been waiting for it for a long time," Marco said. Gavin was a bit of a gamer, although he downplayed that fact in mixed company. "Will we be seeing you this weekend then?"
"Lyssa wants to go to that new club in Holborn.”
"I hear it's good.”
"Saturday," Gavin said. "I think we're all going.” This was news to Marco and he felt a bit put out that he hadn't been aware of their plans. Normally, he was there when they made the plans, but his relationship with Alex had put a bit of distance between him and Gavin—and everyone else.
Alex looked awesome when she joined him for a bite early Saturday evening. He'd seen her geared up for clubbing before, but never when he had right and access to her. Her dress was short and tight as was expected for a club, but the heavy geometric pattern of the dress kept it from looking slutty. Standing up, he waited for her as she made her way into the Turkish restaurant. She really was awesome, he conceded.
"You look fantastic," he said, skimming the material down her back as she embraced him.
"Ah, thank you. I can scrub up when I want to. You look dashing yourself.”
"Dashing?"
"Debonair.”
Marco wondered if they could skip the meal and just head back to her flat. But he did look good. He knew how to dress well and had learnt what suited him. It always paid off to look tidy. "You hungry?"
"Famished. I was at the gym before, so I am ready for a mezze platter. Have you been here before?"
"No."
"Me neither. I guess we will find out what it's like. I'm auditioning for a good Turkish in my list of favourites.”
They ordered and the food was delivered to their table minutes later. It was a cheap restaurant with basic aluminium tables, but that didn't mean the food wasn't awesome. You could never tell by décor. Alex used her fingers, moving morsels of food onto toasted triangles of pita bread. "This is good," she said after her first bite. Marco tucked into his shish kebab on rice, letting the spices coat his tongue and fill his nose. It was good, but so was watching Alex enjoy it.
"I spoke to Gavin," he said after they'd eaten for a while.
"Yeah? How'd he take it?"
"He's alright with it.”
"Good. I feel better about that being squared away," Alex said, preparing another bite. "I've booked us a hotel. This awesome little B&B, right on the coast.”
"Okay," Marco said, not really able to picture what she was talking about.
"I'm so looking forward to it.”
Marco smiled at her enthusiasm. He still thought it was a bit of a shame that they weren't going skiing in Norway with the others, but if she wanted to go to the Isle of Wight, then that was okay, too.
There was already a queue when they got to the club and Marco put his arm around her, as she was cold, even through the cropped leather jacket she wore.
"This better be worth it," she said.
"It will be.”
"And you have to dance with me," she said, turning to him and leaning
into his chest. Marco leant down and kissed her. He wasn't the most enthusiastic dancer around, but he would enjoy watching her.
"You danced growing up, didn't you?" he said. "I can definitely see you as a little dance freak, all dressed up in lycra.”
"Of course. I did ballet for five years, jazz for three and some hip-hop, too.”
"Hip-hop, huh?"
"I was a teenager," she said defensively. "And it was a cool class, I'll let you know.”
"You'll have to show me your moves.”
"You'll have to show me yours.”
During their bout of light teasing, they'd made it to the front of the line and the bouncer let them through. The club was dark, with flashing lights making Marco feel disorientated for a moment. It felt like entering another dimension, which was the effect the club designers had likely worked hard for. The music was pumping as they made their way through the crowded space, where they found their friends in an open circular booth.
"I'll get drinks," Marco shouted, knowing Alex hadn't heard a thing he said. But she nodded and he went off, shouting at the bar tender, who lip-read his order.
Alex was talking to Sarah, practically shouting in her ear to be heard. Turning her head, she beamed at him and Marco was conscious that Gavin was watching them, sitting on the other side of the booth with his arm possessively around Lyssa. He was just going to have to get used to it.
This wasn't the place for talking and before long the girls were itching to dance. Luckily, girls were pretty happy to dance with each other and Marco preferred watching. There was an unwritten rule that dancing was emasculating and it didn't matter how good you were at it. Girls just didn't understand that rule. And right now he was in a full-on 'manliness' contest with Gavin. Again, nothing stated, but Gavin's ego was bruised and he would be extra critical of Marco at the moment, until this phase passed.
Lyssa took to the dance floor and she was a sweet girl, but kind of clueless. Marco noticed Alex's moment of hesitation as Lyssa joined the group of girls, but she let it slide. Lyssa was, after all, the girl that Alex's ex had cheated on her with. But Alex was all calm and collected class and she wasn't going to resort to histrionics, starting a girl-fight in the middle of the club. Marco suspected Gavin would want her to, and that her cool approach to things was one of the reasons he'd driven their relationship into the ditch. Gavin just didn't understand Alex, Marco realised. Alex was never going to be drama after drama, but Marco suspected that was how Gavin felt appreciated.
A group of other Kiwis joined them and Marco attempted talking to a guy he knew in passing, who would be quite cool if he wasn't a golf nut who approached a social round with over-the-top competitive zeal.
Alex was practically glowing when she returned from the dance floor. Her body was flushed and she was covered with a sheen of moisture, which Marco found incredibly sexy. Marco handed her the drink he'd ordered from the fifties stylised waitress with fish-net stockings and cherry-red lipstick.
They stood away from the group, next to a column with a small ledge-type table circling around it. Marco could feel the heat in Alex's body as she embraced him, and he felt a rush of heat himself. Smiling, she reached up and kissed him. He should take her clubbing more often.
Turning around, she leant back into him and he put his arm around her shoulders. The drinks and the atmosphere were making him felt sedate. The beat hadn't completely let go of Alex's body and she bounced slightly with the music as she relaxed into him. He had a hot girlfriend and he burned with anticipation for the evening ahead, when they went home and he stripped her out of that tight dress.
At the moment, he was happy just standing there, appreciating Alex's body and the attraction he felt. They weren't over the top; there were other couples who were much more offensive in the PDA department, but this was perfect. He didn't want to talk to anyone; didn't want to check out other girls—he had the best one and he knew it. Her back was rubbing slightly against him and he wanted to be somewhere more private now. "Should we go?" he spoke into her ear. She smiled and turned her neck away, giving him a perfect view down the front of her body, the firm mounds of her breasts and the tight stomach; the flare of her hips. He wanted to see what lingerie she wore under that dress, suspecting it would be something lacy, maybe red or black, or maybe something soft and silky. He never knew with her, but she always looked delectable. He lightly nibbled on her shoulder, thinking of the night ahead.
Turning around again, she placed her arms around his waist and looked up at him. Leaning down, he kissed her, feeling the urges rush through his body. He wanted her so much right now. "Let's go," he said and pushed them forward.
"Where are you taking me, Mr. D'Arth?" she teased, letting herself be half carried away.
"Somewhere dark," he answered and he saw anticipation flash through her eyes. Okay, that was it—they were leaving.
After pushing through the crowd, the cool air outside was pure pleasure. Cabs were waiting and he walked straight towards the first one, holding Alex's hand as he went. He didn't care if anyone saw him and thought he looked like a pussy; he was not getting go of her.
'
* * *
Chapter 11:
* * *
"You ready?" Marco asked when she opened the door, having returned from getting the rental car ahead of their drive down to Portsmouth. "I'm parked downstairs. Where's your bag?" She gave him a warning look as he steadily moved them forwards until he pressed her into the wall of her flat's hall. "And we need to go and you shouldn't distract me like this.” Leaning down he kissed her. His hand travelled around her, pressing her hips to him, making her body flare with heat. She just couldn't get enough of him. He simply had to look at her and he had her panting for him. "Maybe we can sneak back to bed for a while.”
"You're parked illegally, aren't you?" she asked.
"It will be worth the ticket.”
"No," she pushed him away. "Behave or we'll miss the ferry.”
"It's going to be hours until I have you alone again.”
"Poor thing," she said. "Now carry my bag down like the strong, burly man you are.”
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a salute. Smiling, she followed him down the stairs where there was a late model Toyota waiting for them.
"Where'd you get the car?"
"I rented it through work.”
Alex had planned on them taking the train, but Marco had insisted they drive. Admittedly, it would be nice to just be them, seeing the countryside as they made their way down to Portsmouth.
The roads were crazy busy through London and the traffic was heavy on the motorway south as people rushed off to their Christmas destination. There were the makings for sleet, like the weather couldn't decide if it was going to snow or not.
The heat in the car got too much for the knee-high boots she wore and she took them off, along with her heavy sweater.
"I miss driving," she said. "I miss my car.”
"A car is a pain in London," Marco said. "But I might get one anyway.”
"Have you got a park?"
"No, I'd have to pay for one.”
"It would be worth it if you are going to travel around Britain quite a lot. Problem is that everyone you know will try to borrow it.”
They chatted throughout the trip about their lives back home and also the goings on they'd heard about regarding the broader group of Kiwi's they knew—who was seeing who, and who was breaking up; who had gone home or to Australia. Well, she was chatting mostly—Marco listened. "Do you think people are gossiping about us?" she asked.
"Bound to be.”
The ferry was large and they had to wait forty-five minutes to get the car into it. When they sailed, the crossing was rough in the strong winds. It was freezing when they stepped out on deck. The wind tore through their clothes and hair, but there was something exhilarating about it—the strong wind, the smell of the sea and the sight of a large ship ploughing through waves.
Happy with her plans for this tr
ip, she snuggled into Marco, who looked spectacular in his black coat. They would have a week of just being together—just the two of them in a cosy B&B. From the pictures, it had a reading room and big, old fireplaces throughout.
They ate lunch in the ship's cafeteria where the news was blasting on TVs around the large hall, then found the bar for a quiet drink. The ferry was pretty crowded, but it wasn't unbearable, except for the screaming kids. But luckily, the bar was a kid-free zone and they had time for a drink before pulling into port on the Isle of Wight.
The weather was still abysmal, but Alex didn't mind. Again, it took time to get out of the ship, but it gave them time to study the map to find their hotel on the other side of the island. Driving down the island, they noted the lush, undulating hills and the white cliffs, giving a dramatic look to the landscape, like it could be a setting of some 19th century gothic novel. Heading towards the hotel, they passed a little village, noting a pub down the road from where they were staying. Stepping out of the car, the wind blew Alex's hair violently around.
"It's certainly not weather for being outside," Marco said as he grabbed their bags from the back. The inn keeper was an older lady and the ceiling of the house was surprisingly low like it was built for slightly shorter people. It as well kempt though and they had to walk up a set of narrow and dark stairs to get to the second floor, where their room looked out over the coast through a small four pane window. This house was obviously ancient and the floors creaked when they walked. Unlike the building itself, the furnishings were modern and the bathroom ensuite was lovely.
Marco sat down on the chair and looked around the room. "Now what?" he asked.
"We could go down to the pub we passed. Or go for a drive around the island.”
"Okay, we'll do both" he suggested, standing up again.
The weather never let up and they exchanged gifts in their room on Christmas Day. Just about everything was closed on the island and when they weren't in bed, they had little to do other than stay in their room and read. Marco picked a book out of the hotel's little library and they wiled away the next few days. Yet a few more and they had seen the rest of the island, even walking along one of the beaches one day when the rain let up. It felt like they were completely alone. There seemed to be no one out on the desolate roads. They'd explored a castle and an impossibly quaint village, and the days slowly passed. It probably couldn't be described as an exciting vacation, but they got to spend time together and a fair bit of time in bed.
The Gamble (D'Arth Series Book 3) Page 7