She rose to welcome him. Enthusiastic at the fact he hadn’t stood her up, she flung her arms around his neck for a hug, as he approached to shake hands. His right hand jabbed her stomach, then snaked round her narrow waist in a bid to disguise the awkward greeting gone wrong. He kissed her cheek. As he attempted to kiss her other cheek, she pulled away, letting Brian land his mouth on her nose. Faith prayed for a hole to open and swallow her up. It would have comforted her to know Brian felt the same.
‘Sorry, I was doing the continental thing,’ he said, faking joviality.
‘And I’ve never been to Europe, so it’s wasted on me anyhow,’ quipped Faith.
Her remark highlighted the differences in their polar opposite social strata. Brian stared at the grass. Faith knew she’d torn strips off him after the charity dinner, but she was by no means resentful of his wealth, nor could she blame him for being born to rich parents.
‘Guess we should get in and you can show me the ropes,’ he said breaking the uncomfortable silence on the verge of setting in.
Faith looked him up and down.
‘I thought you would’ve dressed appropriately. We’ll have to go collect your Candy-Striper top to change into.’
Brian grinded his teeth, brow furrowed. It was bad enough he had to devote ten hours in the company of sick people, let alone dressing up in cheap clothes to look a complete fool as he did so.
‘I have to wear the red and white striped jumper to do this?’
‘Of course. How else will they know you’re a volunteer? It’s Candy-Striper tradition. With the history of your family lineage, I thought you’d applaud tradition.’
He scowled, following her to the hospital’s main reception. Brian noted they greeted Faith as an old friend. She clearly did this often, cheerfully and for reasons that inevitably made her a better person than himself. She grinned, passing a badge with his name printed on it. The badge contained the hospital logo and position of Hospital Volunteer.
‘Ha ha,’ he said straight faced, attaching it to his shirt.
‘You didn’t honestly think they’d dress you up in red and white to look like candy for volunteering in 2013 did you?’
‘You’re wearing a red and white striped top.’
‘I did that to wind you up.’
‘You executed it well,’ he confided, feigning annoyance. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘The plan is, I’m going to take you to the ward where your hard-earned money will be spent.’
Faith hadn’t intended it to sound like a jibe. The comment stung Brian. He may not have earned the money but he had no obligation to pass it on or give it away. Again a silence threatened.
‘This is the ward for Muscular Dystrophy. It’s an inherited condition that basically causes muscles to weaken and waste. There’s no cure for the disorder.’
‘Is the entire evening going to be this cheerful?’
‘If you think hearing it is hard, imagine living with it or caring for someone who suffers from it.’
‘That’s why you’re here. Because your brother in the wheelchair has it?’
‘Yes. My father had it to. He died.’
Brian had the grace to apologize for her loss. As annoying as she could be, he couldn’t deny she had a heart of gold and a great deal of compassion.
‘I’m not trying to be a scrooge here, but if there’s no cure why did I pay $270,000 to this ward?’
‘Because there are treatments available that prolongs the lifespan of those unfortunate enough to have the active gene. The hospital provides services like physiotherapy to strengthen muscles and mobility aids such as crutches and wheelchairs. In terms of medication, there are steroids that can improve muscle strength and function for an additional two years in the right cases.
‘The hospital can perform surgery on those suffering from heart ailments, or who have trouble with their bones like spine curvature. Most importantly, as a university hospital, it conducts research specifically into this syndrome. The grant has been cut. Research here has come to a standstill. Further cuts may impact on the hospital resources offered here. If that happens, it will potentially affect those relying on medication and physio.’
Faith flung open the door to a ward where Brian was greeted by bed-bound children of varying ages. As Faith explained, some of the children would be lucky to live to their mid-twenties, Brian mustered all his will power to not let his eyes well up. Instead he sat quietly in the corner as Faith engaged and read to the children until lights out.
Faith nodded to him at 9pm.
‘You’re free to go now.’
‘Wait a second,’ he said controlling the wobble in his voice from having been moved by the children inside. ‘Don’t you owe me a pizza at pappa’s or something.’
‘Paulo’s Pizzas,’ she laughed. ‘I had my first job with him and he treated me like a daughter. If you’ve aspirations to be in the privileged position of calling him Pappa, be prepared for five years of waiting tables.’
‘Whatever,’ he said glibly. ‘I’m ravenous. Let’s jump in the limo and go.’
Faith was going to protest on the premise that it wasn’t a long walk, but the truth was the buses ran hourly at this time of night and she wasn’t keen to wander to town in the pitch black.
‘I can hear the cogs turning. You don’t want my driver sitting alone in the car any longer do you? He must be bored stiff already after a two hour wait. It’d be cruel if you insisted we walk to the restaurant.’
‘Should we invite him in for pizza, too?’ asked Faith, unfamiliar with protocol.
‘No. Marcus, has a lovely wife that keeps him well-fed and well-stocked for our travels.’
She hated herself, but Faith was wowed by the stretch limousine. The soft changing lights, blacked-out windows, bar fridge and abundant seating were extravagances she’d only ever seen on TV. It was nice to stretch out after being on her feet for two hours solid.
‘I bet you’ve entertained a lot of women in here.’
Brian wrinkled his nose.
‘I try not to be too crass. This is a party mobile. If a group of us are going out, this is the vehicle to take because you can squeeze a pile of girls and boys in and have a few drinks to kick it off.’
‘Knowing it was only me, why choose this car?’
‘You’re already laying on the couch with your feet up, having a vodka and orange juice. Don’t pretend you aren’t appreciating its perks.’
‘I’m not. You’re evading the question though. Why the limousine?’
‘Because you dazzled me at the charity dinner. I’d never such a rare beauty in my life. I guess I intended to dazzle you.’
‘Dazzle me because I dazzled you at dinner, or dazzle me because you pitied me as a stay-at-home secretary?’
‘You’ve got me all wrong, Faith. I admire that you run your own company. I respect that you live with and care for your brother. I’m profoundly in awe that you devote your spare time to plugging away to find a cure for an illness that may not exist.’
‘I can’t ever afford to have that mindset. It might take time and money, but there have already been advancements in treatment. Who can say with certainty there’s no cure?’
‘Positivity is useful. Blindness and completely ignoring science and facts are dangerous. You’re investing a lot in something that may never happen.’
‘That’s why they call me Faith.’
He’d hurt her with the brutal truth. Brian’s words were clumsy. She’d not received them in the intended spirit.
‘What I was trying to say,’ he began cautiously, ‘is that I’d hate you to be disappointed waiting for a cure that may never come in your lifetime. You’re entitled to have a life of your own.’
‘I have a life of my own and it is rewarding. Pushing on with raising research funds and maintaining current treatment facilities isn’t without purpose or prize. My focus is making sure my brother is as happy, healthy and competent as he can be. That’s where I find happiness.�
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‘What do you do for fun?’
‘Hanging with my brother is fun. A wheelchair doesn’t preclude you from having fun.’
Brian felt foolish and uneducated.
‘And you don’t need a billion dollars to have fun, as you’re going to find out,’ said Faith, stepping out of the limousine as it crawled the curb outside Paulo’s Pizza.
Baffled, but secretly turned on by her independence, Brian watched the owner bear-hug Faith, planting a kiss on each cheek. The welcome was certainly a lot more familiar and natural than his European venture earlier. Paulo was as cordial to Brian as he was to Faith, congratulating him on his charitable donation and selfless devotion to the hospital. Brian ignored the dubious expression on Faith’s face. Given his performance at the charity auction, he couldn’t blame her for questioning his motives.
They sat in the crowded pizza parlor. It was a new experience for Brian, but not an unwelcome one. The buzz of the crowd, the lively Italian music and tasty rustic food enthralled him. Despite the noise, he was determined to get to know the enigmatic Faith Spires better. Sharing a pizza dripping with cheese was an intimate place to start.
Faith expected a painful dinner with Brian, but admired how easily he fitted in with his unfamiliar surroundings. The pleased wonderment on his face struck her heart. He somehow appeared childlike despite his world-wise bragging.
‘This place is great,’ he said, raising his voice to make himself heard.
‘You think?’ she asked, ascertaining whether or not he was being sarcastic.
‘Absolutely. There’s a real freedom to it. A vibe where anything goes. I like the idea of not having to pre-book a table or adhere to a dress code. It’s accessible.’
‘Everything’s accessible to you, Brian Porterhouse.’
He shook his head.
‘Not at all.’
Faith frowned.
‘Don’t patronize me Brian. Money can’t buy you love, but it can buy you everything else.’
He inhaled, annoyed that he had to explain his financial situation to a stranger.
‘Nothing’s free, Faith. Not even the allowance I get. You spoke of tradition earlier. I’m the youngest of three. My older brother, Terence, went to university to run the family business when Dad retires; he’s there full time. My middle brother, Hamilton, went to university as well. He’s at the company but in a department he chose that interests him.’
‘And you?’
‘With two sons in the company, Dad didn’t feel the third should be trained. I had the option of going to university or not. There was no pressure. If anything, he advised me not to entertain the idea. I own shares in the company and always will. It provides a secure, steady, spectacular income. My father wasn’t bothered as to what I did with my future.’
‘Then what decision did you make?’
‘I’d only graduated and typically I insisted on a gap year to travel in Europe. Dad was happy enough, thought it would educate me by broadening my mind. A typical cliché. I came home and realized Dad and my two brothers were firmly knit in the company. I was on the outside. No way to wheedle in. When I asked Dad if I could get a job, start at the bottom rung of the ladder to learn as I climbed it, he turned me down flat, claiming it would be degrading and pointless for a Porterhouse. I was told to use my allowance and enjoy life. That’s what I do.’
‘By appearing on endless reality TV shows and dating a score of beautiful women.’
‘I know it sounds shallow and meaningless, but at least I got noticed. In my family I didn’t exist. In the press, I finally gained a degree of recognition, however lacking in talent I am. Plus my public profile means when Dad’s in the office, stories featuring me at least force him to remember he does have a third son.’
‘You make yourself sound like Richie Rich, the poor little rich boy.’
‘Not at all. I love what I do, but don’t ever assume someone coming from wealth has had a privileged life or easy ride. I’m less educated than you academically and nowhere near as disciplined or self-reliant as you. Those are qualities money can’t buy.’
‘Your money could change your circumstances, right?’
Brian refused to answer and ate his pizza. Faith didn’t push the issue. He was undeniably gorgeous which tantalized her sexual desires, but her misconception made him highly repellent to her. Having revealed a few tiny snippets she was reassessing her original opinion of him.
The banter reverted to easy conversation as they steered cleared of Brian’s wealth and Faith’s volunteering. Whilst Brian was keen to not be solely associated with his bank account, Faith had no intention of portraying herself as a martyr without a sense of fun.
Merry from their wine glasses being continually refilled and high from the conversation, after repeatedly thanking Paulo for his incredible hospitality, they staggered out of the pizza joint.
‘Thank god for the cool midnight air,’ said Brian as the fresh breeze sobered him.
‘Thank god I’ve got a lift home,’ giggled Faith. ‘That is, if the offer there is from your driver.’
‘Of course, of course. I may be uneducated but my breeding has made me a gentleman.’
Familiar with Brian in an inebriated state, Marcus stood by the car to open the door for them. As Becky took his hand for guidance she tripped, crawling on her hands and knees to find a seat in the limo. She knew staggering on all fours was not a classy look, thus was grateful when Brian hit his head on the car as he stumbled in.
He collapsed beside her, holding his forehead in agony.
‘Do you think maybe for one night only you can forgive all my embarrassing accidents and write them off as nervousness at being placed in a foreign environment?’ he asked.
Faith tittered as she appraised the bruise already starting to show beneath the strands of the blue-black fringe he constantly swept from his eyes. As their eyes locked, Faith pushed back his hair, her thumb resting on his high cheekbone. She leant forward to brush his lips.
Brian reciprocated the kiss eagerly. In this area he maintained a degree of finesse. His lips were as soft as hers. What started as mellow, gentle kisses hurriedly graduated to deeper ones. He let his tongue slide inside her mouth to explore, as his hand raked through her curly red hair. Faith tilted her head to intensify the kiss and found herself responding, shooting her tongue to his mouth.
Sitting side by side limited their physical contact, but there was something delicious to be lost only in kisses. Faith, who had initiated the clinch, was drawn to him. Her hand went to his knee and ran up the muscular, chino-clad leg. Permitting Faith to direct the action, Brian focused on enjoying the sensation of her kiss, the feel of her hair and titillating electricity from her touch. As Faith went under his polo shirt to feel his tight torso, Brian was unable to refrain from gasping at how cool her fingertips were on his warm skin.
He pulled Faith on top of him as he lay down. She pushed his shirt up high enough for Brian to remove it completely. Faced with the body of a Greek Adonis and drowning in desire, Faith’s sea-green eyes stared into Brian’s dark blue set. She sat up to observe him properly. Her hands traced the outline of every muscle from his chest, down his rock hard stomach to the belt of his chinos. Straddling him, she could feel the crotch of the chinos straining as she rubbed herself over the desperate-to-escape erection.
Her nimble fingers went to his belt and expertly undid it. She stopped herself snorting at the stereotypical designer label written on the band of his boxers. Having made her intent clear, Brian’s hand went to her neck, drawing her flat to his bare chest. He squirmed and twisted ungainly, until he managed to put himself on top of Faith. Underneath him, Faith hadn’t the strength to regain control, but was happy to be dominated by Brian. He ground his hips on hers. She tipped her head backwards, exposing her graceful pale neck and whimpered at his rhythmic movements.
Brian kissed upwards from the base of her neck up to her lips. The kisses remained feathery until he reached her lips. The har
dness of him below and softness of his kisses had her deliriously hungry for more. She went to rotate Brian flat on his back, to strip him to complete the act, but her swift, strong movement caught him off-guard.
Faith rolled Brian clean off the stretch sofa and he crashed onto the floor; his head hitting the bottom of the car as Faith’s weight landed on top of him.
Mortified at his raspy breathing for air, she leapt up. Winded, Brian stayed on the floor till he caught his breath.
‘I’d like to say that was unexpected but...’
‘But we don’t seem to gel sexually,’ completed Faith.
Brian didn’t correct or disagree with her conclusion. He was already wrestling to get his shirt on. Once both were sitting in the limousine, the window between driver and passenger went down.
‘Where to first, sir?’ asked Marcus.
Brian nodded for Faith to give her address and the window wound up.
‘Oh my days, did he hear everything that happened?’
‘No it’s soundproof,’ assured Brian.
‘Did he see anything?’
‘One way window. We can see him, he can’t see us.’
‘How did he know when to roll the window down to start driving?’
‘Marcus has an impeccable sense of timing.’
Brian decided to save Faith any further blushes. The truth was the entire vehicle would have shuddered when their combined weights hit the floor. Marcus was a man of the world and knew a catastrophic event occurring mid-seduction would dampen the flames of the most ignited passions.
Delivered to her home, Faith was at a loss for words. She didn’t have any idea of how Brian’s head operated, what had just happened or what was going on between the two of them—if anything.
‘I’ll walk you to the door,’ offered Brian neutrally.
I Kissed A Playboy Page 3