I Kissed A Playboy

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I Kissed A Playboy Page 12

by Oates, Sorell


  Brian glowered at Faith. After his conversation with his father, he’d automatically assumed Faith would support this venture, instead she was tearing it to shreds.

  ‘Gabe might be in a wheelchair, but his mobility is limited. Would he even be able to actually play the game? He wouldn’t have the strength in his upper body to wheel a chair for the duration of a full match.’ hissed Faith.

  ‘The game can be played with powered electric wheelchairs. All of which I intend to supply to the team to ensure the equipment caters specifically for the sport and don’t interfere with the normal day-to-day wheelchairs. Strong reliable mobility equipment is a must for any sufferer,’ said Brian knowingly.

  ‘And if Gabe can’t play? If you encourage these people and they can’t play? Have you thought how they’ll feel if you offer them a dream, or snippet of hope then snatch it away? Won’t that be even worse?’ snarled Faith.

  ‘There’s other sports out there for wheelchair users and I read that umpiring is feasible. There’s definitely something out there for anyone looking to participate in sport or reconnect with neglected hobbies,’ said Brian, desperate to remain professional.

  ‘This interview was supposed to help raise money for Muscular Dystrophy research, not be used as a tool to portray you as a changed man bringing ‘fun’ to the lives of the less fortunate.

  ‘I thought the interview was us as a partnership. I thought you wanted me and my public presence to promote the disorder. Haven’t you got exactly that? Isn’t that what you asked for Faith?’ his hard voice demonstrated she’d penetrated his calm exterior.

  ‘Had you turned up on time at the auction we could’ve done that without this three-ring-circus. Two photographers were waiting and waiting for your arrival but left assuming you’d be a no-show. Then you staggered in drunk, not knowing what you were bidding for.’

  ‘Are you saying you wished I hadn’t attended?’

  ‘I’m saying I wish you’d turned up on time at the original charity gala. Then the PR team could’ve managed this effectively with the hospital as the star feature, not you clambering for your ever elusive fame.’

  ‘But we found each other,’ he said sullenly, hoping her love for him was as real as his was for her.

  ‘I wish you’d bid for someone else. You still think only of yourself and how best to make life fun. In essence that’s what you’ve done this week. It’s why I didn’t want to mix business with sex. This was always a transaction first and foremost. You couldn’t respect that, because what Brian wants, Brian gets. You’ve jumped on-board something you have no understanding of to catapult yourself to be part of the fame game.’

  ‘That’s not fair. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this endeavor. You gave my life purpose and direction. This might be an area I can succeed in. I thought I’d have your support,’ stuttered Brian.

  The interviewer noted his stuttering. Brian was always eloquent and well-spoken. He stammered as a young child but excessive lessons removed the verbal tic.

  ‘Not only have you completely stolen the attention the hospital requires for funding with your jolly wheelchair soccer team, but you’ve broken my heart in the process allowing me to believe I was more important to you than the blinding light of the flashes.’

  Faith left the room dismayed.

  ‘Print the interview. I’m done.’ stammered Brian numbly as he shook hands with everyone in the room to hurry along his exit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Sounds catastrophic,’ consoled Gabe.

  His pregnant fiancé had prepared Faith a hot chocolate, but both were confused as to what the real issue was. As Faith looked up at the pretty Hispanic girl, maternally caring for her sister-in-law-to-be the hysterical crying started.

  ‘Sweetheart I’m confused. I don’t know if it’s my pregnant hormones, but none of this is making sense. Gabriel tells me you and the playboy are perfect and in love. This man is setting up a soccer club for Gabriel to play again. Gabriel’s big dream. Somehow this has angered you. I confess, to me he does not sound like a bad man.’

  ‘That’s because he’s not. If we’d treated it as a business transaction. Kept our feelings separate and out of the equation at each meeting, treated those sessions as formal and professional then everything would have come together as I planned.’

  ‘It may not have come happened as you planned but this week is the happiest I’ve seen you in ages,’ said Gabriel matter-of-factly.

  ‘That was the whole problem. I could handle it if he’d treated me like a tissue, a girl to be binned without a thought. To be branded a boring, lonely, do-good, ball breaker, charity worker I could deal with, but that’s not me and that’s not what Brian saw. Strangely, Brian relates to people. Feels for them. However he’s treated them, whether they’ve been pleasant or nasty, whatever triggered behaviors and actions in his relationships, he always considered their feelings, going out of his way to protect them. To have someone see my soul and rush to cradle it, how was I ever going to keep things separate?’

  ‘You make falling in love sound a bad thing,’ said Sasha, taking Faith’s hand to put on her bump letting her feel the baby kick.

  ‘Loving Brian isn’t a bad thing. For me it’s a blessing, but I’ve done something awful and every time I remember it, it breaks my heart because I know it’ll drive him away when he finds out. I witnessed it tonight. I’ll lose the best thing that ever happened to me.’

  ‘If the man loves you, he will always love you. Forgiving takes time, but love lasts forever,’ said Sasha wisely.

  ‘I’m not sure there’s any point trying. I betrayed him.’

  ‘You slept with someone else?’ asked Gabe incredulously.

  ‘No. I did something, initiated something that will hurt him. This once Gabe, I can’t confide in you. He has to be the first to hear it.’

  Faith didn’t sleep. She spent hours on the internet, trawling gossip blogs. As the hours passed, photographs of Brian in nightclubs surrounded by women popped up online, as did one of him crashing drunkenly out of a club with two blonde girls supporting his weight draped under each arm. The malicious remarks were in reference to his short lived charitable affair with Faith. Her heart fractured at each new picture uploaded.

  Only yesterday he’d been claiming he wanted to spend forever with her. It seemed forever only lasted a week with Brian Porterhouse. Despite the hurt, she knew it was she who’d driven him away. Her guilt and fear won in the end. It consumed her to the point where she couldn’t bear being bathed in his unconditional love. She’d ripped away the close bond they’d developed in such a short space.

  She left the house early for the newsagent early Saturday morning. The front cover photo was of her and Brian in a heart, but edited to look as though it were torn in half. Their faces were those of a couple in love.

  Reading the article, the interviewer had come down on her side. Comments and praise from Brian lavished on Faith had been edited out. He was portrayed as a publicity hungry playboy who had used a simple, sweet secretary with a sick brother as a stepping stone to curry public favor to create an interest in his fledging career. It was unfair and untrue.

  The article boldly had an edited version of her final words to Brian emblazoned over the interview ‘Not only have you completely stolen the limelight from the hospital’s necessary funding with your jolly wheelchair soccer team, but you’ve broken my heart, too.’

  She had no number for Susie to rectify the situation and she couldn’t face Brian’s justified wrath to get Susie’s number to resolve the poorly written article. Scanning the newspaper the magazine came in, she found a contact number and dialed to speak to an editor.

  Unless she was prepared to sue there was not a lot Faith could do to put things right. She’d half hoped a pesky journalist would be on the front doorstep to investigate or seek her opinion on Brian’s flagrant partying last night, but given the rags-to-riches romance was finished before it began, there was no interest in her.
r />   While Faith contemplated her next step, Brian was hung over and sleepy. For reasons beyond his comprehension he was greatly relieved not to see a random woman in his bed. Astounded that he hadn’t slept with a gorgeous nymph to boost his ego, he was optimistic he’d exercised enough self control to be in a position to swallow his pride and follow his heart.

  His mobile bleeped. For once it wasn’t Susie. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t Faith. He was however dumbstruck to find a text from his father.

  ‘Still keen to discuss corporate responsibility?’ read Porterhouse Senior’s text.

  Brian fought the urge to hurl the phone at the wall. Although he hadn’t read the article, clearly his father had. Evidently it wasn’t even close to the satisfactory Cinderella story he’d been hoping for. Similar to most men, Brian was able to compartmentalize when duty-bound. Faith was lost to him. He had no idea how to reach her but that couldn’t be his focus right then.

  Rereading his father’s text, he contemplated the ‘corporate responsibility’ issue. Did he really want his father’s company becoming actively involved in supporting charities and prevalent social issues? The answer was yes. It would benefit the Porterhouse Media; a company he had shares in and it was of interest to him. It was something with or without Faith he had to do, knew he could organize and it felt right.

  Maybe he hadn’t fought at eighteen to be part of Porterhouse Media, but at twenty-five he sure as hell would now. Brian composed then sent his text.

  ‘Absolutely, Dad. Looking forward to the meeting and going through the material to knock out a few ideas with you.’

  He noted his father didn’t text back, but didn’t care. The lack of communication spoke volumes.

  Faith took the bold step of calling Porterhouse Media directly. Whilst the company opened on weekends because of the varying mediums it used that ran twenty four hours, seven days a week, Porterhouse Senior wasn’t on the premises. She’d expected that but risked asking for his phone number.

  The receptionist almost scoffed at the suggestion, then politely recited the policy of private numbers. When Faith said who she was and why she was ringing, the receptionist offered to transfer her to Porterhouse Senior’s cell phone directly.

  It rang. Faith was half hoping for voice-mail, but he answered the phone.

  ‘Porterhouse.’

  ‘Mr. Porterhouse, sorry to bother you on the weekend and I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time but my name’s Faith Spires. I wanted to talk to you regarding an interview you may have read.’

  ‘It wasn’t one of my publications.’

  ‘Yes I know that. It’s only, I’d like your advice.’

  ‘My advice is stay away from Brian. You’re a nice girl doing nice things, that’s not who Brian is.’

  ‘Actually that’s exactly who Brian is and that’s why I need you. They’ve edited the story, excluded questions and answers, taken quotes out of context; painted a poor picture of him.’

  ‘Welcome to the wonderful world of newspaper publishing, precious!’

  Faith despised the tone of his voice.

  ‘Your son is a good man and I don’t know how I can remedy what’s happened. I know nothing about the how the press works.’

  ‘Let him and his trusty PR agent manage it and stay clear. Heed my warning, young lady.’

  ‘Don’t you care in the slightest? Don’t you care that people all over the country are reading a trashy magazine, thinking your son to be heinous womanizer when he’s a bright, bold, beautiful man?’

  ‘I care that he’s in a magazine, but I don’t care why.’

  ‘Do an interview with me?’ insisted Faith.

  ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘Get one of your papers or magazines to do an interview with me. I can put the record straight.’

  ‘Ms. Spires, let me remind you who I am.’

  ‘I don’t care for your name, sir, or your money, but I care for your son.’

  ‘People don’t tell me what to do.’

  ‘In this instance I shouldn’t have to tell you, but as you aren’t listening I feel I have to. Don’t let people demonize your son. Please. I’m begging you,’ she said assertively.

  ‘Is this a tiff between you and Brian or have you broken up?’

  Remembering Sasha’s romantic view of love and forgiveness, she did what Brian would do – be optimistic.

  ‘It’s a tiff. That’s why I’d like it resolved formally in the papers. It can easily spiral. I don’t want to lose him; not because of silly disagreement mid-interview.’

  ‘You’ve a lot to learn if you’re going to be with him permanently.’

  ‘I know that. I’m a quick study. It was stupid losing my temper. I should’ve waited, but I have to make this right.’

  ‘I’ll talk to my son and get back to you,’ said Porterhouse Senior, hanging up abruptly.

  It was not the response she’d prayed to receive.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Brian drank strong black coffee and took a few tablets for his headache, his phone rang. He smirked seeing his father’s name flash up. Clearly the text had thrown him.

  ‘Hey, Dad,’ he said feigning joviality.

  ‘Brian.’

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s what I can do for you.’

  ‘I’m well set up, Father. Apart from attending our meeting, there’s nothing further you can do for me.’

  ‘Perhaps then there’s something you can do for me?’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I don’t want to receive calls from your cast-offs. Strong-willed, demanding women hold no appeal for me. Having them phone at the crack of dawn on a Saturday is unwelcome. If you haven’t planned on ditching her yet then rein the bitch in and put a muzzle on her.’

  ‘Don’t talk about Faith like that ever again, especially not to me.’

  ‘I thought she was lying when she claimed you’d had a lovers tiff. Perhaps I was wrong. If it was a tiff the papers will soon catch on. Why ring me begging for an interview to put right yet another article slamming your disrespect for women in your already extensive portfolio? It was hardly new. Explain things to her. Calm her down, attend a few public lovey-dovey functions next week and I’m sure the interview will be forgotten.’

  ‘She rang you asking for an interview?’

  ‘She was emphatic you’d been misrepresented and the story should be set straight. Obviously, no-one’s interested in a secretary that went out with a socialite for a week, but she thought one of my publications might be able to rescue your reputation if she was given the chance to give the full story. Chivalrous. That’s an unusual term to describe a woman.’

  ‘Faith’s an unusual woman,’ choked Brian down the phone.

  ‘Remarkable and bold. Getting a hold of my number and making demands to look out for you. I thought you should know’

  ‘I appreciate it, Dad.’

  ‘And Brian?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’ll be at the meeting and I’ll be there with an open mind,’ said his father gruffly.

  ‘That means more to me than you’ll ever know. Thanks for taking the time to call.’

  ‘Thank her for making me take the time to listen.’

  His father hung up. Brian felt free, as though a weight had been lifted from him or he’d taken his first step on a stone that was on the right path for him.

  It had to be done. Reluctantly, Brian thought of Faith. She’d lambasted him over the soccer team. Maybe he should’ve discussed it with her, consulted her but he’d been too excited; desperate to surprise her, demonstrate the impact she’d had on him in five days. He wasn’t sure why she’d crucified him, but whatever was going on in her head, he never ceased to be amazed by the lengths she’d go to, to make things right.

  Rather than call Marcus, Brian drove himself to Faith’s house. Pressing the doorbell, he was jiggered at a beautiful Hispanic girl opening the door.


  ‘Are you here to cause heartache or happiness?’ she asked squarely.

  ‘I’m hoping happiness.’

  ‘Then come in and kiss away her tears and fears. Girls in love for the first time do silly things, make mistakes. I did with Gabriel, but now I’m all grown up and sensible. I’m twenty-one, an expectant mother and ready to wed once I lose the baby fat. All girls are princesses desperate for love. Can I trust you?

  Bemused, Brian saluted the pregnant woman he guessed to be Sasha.

  ‘Promise.’

  She let him in. He sensed her dark, chocolate brown eyes boring into him as he headed to Faith’s quarters.

  Opening the door, when Faith looked at him the tears rained down her cheeks.

  ‘Sensible head, Faith,’ he said gently.

  ‘It’s all my fault. I betrayed you. You betrayed me. I loved you and now we can never repair it. I know I deserved it, but I didn’t expect this to happen. I didn’t want it unraveling. I thought we were tight. I’m sorry I called your Dad, but I’m hoping he’ll send a journalist. I can make amends and set the record straight.’

  ‘You’re babbling Faith. Can you take a few breaths to slow down?’

  She took ten deep breaths.

  ‘Faith, I know what you did. Gabe told me the night we got back from Paris. He said he knew I was drunk at the charity gala and wouldn’t back down from the bidding so forced me to take it to $270,000 to win the auction. It was only me and him. He explained no one else was prepared to vote so he stepped up. I’m not angry or annoyed. I wish my siblings supported me the same way, but quarter of a million dollars is a price tag that doesn’t befit the woman you are or the love I have for you. I got a good deal.’

  Faith was quiet.

  ‘I didn’t know Gabriel did that.’

 

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