by Nana Malone
Hell, what he needed tonight was to crash out. He was in desperate need of some distraction and some light-hearted fun after that phone call. As a kid, he’d adored the old man. Wanted to be just like him. Nathan had always admired his father’s resilience and perseverance, had always thought that hard work and determination was all you needed to make your family secure and happy. That gold plating had worn after his mother’s death.
And now his father was up to his old bullshit all over again. He was going to lose his family over this shit.
Nathan cursed. It wasn’t like he had daddy issues or anything weird. He was just disappointed that he’d been let down so spectacularly from the man he’d used to look up to.
But sitting in a funk was not his style. Instead, he got up and headed to his wardrobe. It was time to pick himself back up and move on. He'd deal with the family bullshit later. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let it ruin his night. He needed to numb the well of emotion.
Decision made, he reached for his designer jeans and a T-shirt made of a silk blend. It felt smooth against his bare chest. It made him feel good. Not as good as a woman’s touch, though.
Striding over to the full-length mirror in his dressing room, he ran his fingers through his dark hair. Yeah, he’d pull tonight. It wouldn’t take long. And he’d be able to block all this shit out. Forget about the betrayal.
He scrolled through his address book until he found what he was looking for. Canada. That wasn’t her real name of course. He just called her that because that was where he’d met her.
She was a model he had met a couple of weeks back. The next Brazilian It girl. But there were so many Brazilian supermodels now. It was hard to keep track.
So, he called her Canada. It was as easy as that. When he needed a date for the evening, someone to let off steam, all Nathan had to do was scroll through his phone and make a call.
Thing was, it wasn’t as cold as it seemed. These girls in his phone, they had thrown themselves at him and he was simply obliging. It wasn’t always about looks. For him, it was about escapism. Fun. Some laughs. He was always very clear that he would only be around for one night, explained there would be nothing more to it right from the very start. He wasn’t mean or cruel. He enjoyed the pleasure of being with a beautiful woman; he enjoyed fucking and drinking. That didn’t make him a bad person. Just a normal bloke in a slightly more advantageous position than most. It makes you like him. No. Nathan wasn't hurting anyone.
In all his years, not one woman had drunkenly called or texted him, begging for a second chance. Nathan was proud of that. Twenty-six years old and he’d never been the reason for a woman’s tears. He certainly wasn't starting now.
6
Nathan
Canada was proving to be an extremely good distraction. She was tall and exotically beautiful, and Nathan found her unbelievably sexy. They went for dinner, though, and as was standard, she barely ate anything.
Still, Nathan tucked into his steak while she picked around a salad. He was used to the models he dated nibbling on two pieces of cucumber. But she was nice and chatty and made him laugh a few times. Fortunately, Canada only worked in London a couple of times a year, so she was looking for something as free and easy as he was. It was proving to be the most perfect distraction from the whirl of emotions he was running from.
By the time they’d had several early cocktails, Nathan was feeling a familiar pull. When Canada uncrossed and crossed her legs, revealing an extra couple of inches of her caramel colored thighs, he leaned over. “Why don’t you come back to mine and say goodbye to London in style?”
He whispered the proposition into her ear and her skin broke out in goosebumps. It gave him a shiver of power, of anticipation, knowing that he had that effect on someone. Just like always.
Once they reached his flat, she stared. “Wow,” she gasped. “The rent on this must be wicked. What is it you do again?” She turned to him, her brown eyes curious. Truth was, he’d never told her what he did because she hadn’t actually asked.
He grabbed a bottle of champagne from his fridge, tipped some ice cubes into a bucket and placed that and two champagne flutes onto a tray.
“I’ve just started my own business. It’s like a consultancy for businesses that need to improve productivity.”
His Brazilian beauty frowned momentarily and then laughed. “I just assumed you were a model, like me.” She gestured to him. “I mean, look at you. You should be a model. You’d put every other male in the industry out of a job.”
Nathan smiled, used to hearing these kinds of compliments but enjoying them all the same. “Thanks.” He wanted to change the subject from his work.
“Come on. I want to show you the rooftop garden,” Nathan said, picking up the tray.
“But it’s freezing outside!” Canada looked alarmed.
“Trust me.” Nathan grinned. The earlier rain had made the August night cooler than usual.
He loved the rooftop garden. He shared it with Little Miss Uptight. Just like they shared the pool and the hot tub. But he wasn’t here for that tonight.
The view from the roof was breathtaking, even for Nathan, who had seen it a hundred times before. They were fortunate that although the air was cold, the skies were crisp and clear. Before them, the still, cold night revealed a view right across the illuminated skyline of the city.
“This is stunning,” Canada breathed.
“I know, right?” Nathan busied himself preparing the area. He’d spent a lot of thought, and money, designing his part of the rooftop garden. There had already been a chair and a little side table up here, presumably belonging to stuck up Sophie, but he had added several, heavy-duty gas flamed outdoor heaters, a chaise lounge, a large coffee table and strings of outdoor lighting. If you’re gonna do something, do it well, Nathan had figured. So now the whole area was akin to a climactic scene in a romance movie.
On the inside of the door, there was a large ottoman from which he pulled out several giant sized, faux fur throws and some downy cushions which he threw onto the chaise lounge—making it look invitingly cozy. The flames from the heaters warmed the little section around the seat and gave the whole area an orange, warm glow.
Canada made a happy spin before joining Nathan on the chair and accepting her glass of bubbles with a coy smile. He loved the fact that he could make even the most attractive and confident of girls feel giddy. He liked making someone feel special.
This was his kingdom, his domain. It was what he excelled at. It was all in the details, all about setting the scene.
Briefly, he wondered if he was ever going to meet someone that would make him feel compelled to see them for a second time—or even a third or a forth. He sincerely hoped not. He did not want to run the risk … Nathan turned his attention back to his guest. Now was not the time to be pondering the future; now was the time to be very much in the present.
He took Canada’s glass and set it down before leaning in to kiss her.
Sophie
In a word, hectic. That's how her day had gone. With two weeks to organize the start-up party, she’d been on nonstop and felt in serious need of some relaxation.
It was seven. She had two hours before Christopher was going to show up.
Enough time for a shower and a glass of wine, she thought, already calming at the plans in her head. Her shower was quick, rinsing off the grime and stress of the city.
She checked her watch again. With enough time to get in some decent chilling, Sophie decided to wrap up in her coziest and oldest pajamas and take her wine to the rooftop with a blanket and a good book. The air seemed so much fresher up there, away from the fumes and the funk of the day-to-day bustle. She had every intention of spending a good hour’s downtime before heading back into the warm and getting changed for Chris’s arrival.
The door to the rooftop had been carelessly and thoughtlessly left ajar, allowing the chill to seep into the bones of the building. She sighed, immediately knowing who the c
ulprit would be. Determined not to let him ruin yet another of her evenings, Sophie pushed through the door to outside.
What she saw wasn’t much of a shock to her; she had witnessed Nathan in so many varying states of undress over the last year that it hardly phased her anymore.
Apart from last night. Last night was the first time she’d seen him totally naked. Her mind wandered back to that beautiful vision: the ridges of muscle on his torso, the pronounced ‘V’ where his hips met the top of his legs, shaped like a big arrow pointing downward to his …
Sophie shook her head. Stop it, she told herself. He may have the most knicker melting body she’d ever seen, but the man was a wanker.
Noisily, she scuffed her way over to the little chair and table she had placed on top of the building before Nathan had moved in.
She wanted to let the panting bodies beneath the blanket know that she was there, and that she was not going to be moving for the next hour, not this time. If Nathan chose to have sex on a roof terrace that they both shared, he was damn well going to have to put up with interruptions.
Nothing.
She set her wine glass down loudly and then coughed; it was obvious that she was going to have to make her presence known in a less subtle way.
The cough did the trick. First, Nathan’s head popped up from the blanket. As was typical, he was wearing nothing, at least on his top half, his bare shoulders a creamy white against the backdrop of night. Then a woman’s head emerged. A different woman from the evening before, Sophie noted with disgust. If possible, this one was even more beautiful. She looked confused, frowning first at Sophie and then toward Nathan beside her.
“Hey! My favorite neighbor. Darling, this is Sophie.” Nathan made his one way introductions with not an ounce of humility, shame or embarrassment. Arsehole. She hadn’t missed that Nathan hadn’t said the girl’s name. Git probably didn’t even know it.
“Want to come join? It’s warm under here?” Nathan lifted the blanket covering him and Canada up slightly, inviting Sophie in. His female companion stared at him, openmouthed in shock, but Sophie knew better than to react in the way he wanted.
“I’d have thought this activity would have been better performed inside without the chill.” Sophie muttered, staring only at the pages in her book.
“Nah, it’s even more fun in the cold. A good excuse to keep warm. Plus, it’s really snug over here.” He paused, waiting for an answer that he didn’t get. “So, are you here to watch? Because we’re just going to carry on.”
Was he fucking serious? Well she wasn't leaving. “You two just carry on. Don't let me disturb you.”
He lifted a brow at her. “Do you like to watch, Sophie?”
She flushed. Shit. Had he finally remembered?
Canada reached to the floor to pick up her discarded clothing. “I should go … ” she said, clearly feeling awkward by the frosty exchange between the pair. Nathan grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“No. Don’t worry. We were here first. If Sophie wants to stay, then she can stay.” He stared her directly in the eye before covering the two of them back over with the throw.
Sophie adjusted her position in the chair and tried to start reading. She read the same word over and over about fifty times before finally letting out an exasperated cry and grabbing her things to head back downstairs.
Coward.
Nathan
“What the hell was that?” Canada whispered to Nathan, still under the makeshift tent Nathan had constructed around them.
“Ah, it’s just my neighbor. She’s got a problem with me. I don’t know why,” he answered. But suddenly he wasn’t in the mood anymore. He passed Canada her clothes and coat.
“Come on. It is a little cold up here. Let’s go inside. I’ll call you a cab.”
She looked confused but followed his lead anyway.
He hated to admit it, but Sophie had gotten into his head. He hated that every time they saw each other it involved some kind of argument. It was like the two of them were circling each other, marking their territory like neighborhood cats. He knew that he antagonized her and sometimes quite purposefully. At first, it had just been a bit of fun, a bit of teasing. He never thought that she’d continue to retaliate in such a way. And then it had formed into a habit.
Sometimes, he thought he could see a glint in her eye when she’d come over to complain. Thought that deep down perhaps it was a nice little ‘in’ joke the two of them had going on. But tonight had felt a lot different to that. Was something bothering her? Moreover, what the fuck did he care?
As he said goodbye to Canada, he noticed Sophie’s boyfriend making the final steps to her front door. He smiled and tipped his head, being friendly to Canada. But the git just blatantly ignored him and knocked on Sophie’s door.
Wow, he thought. The two of them sure as hell suit each other.
“Am I glad to see you.” Sophie wrapped her arms around Chris’s slender frame. He pecked her on the lips quickly.
“The bloke across the hall just smiled at me. What’s the deal?”
Sophie almost laughed, tired and borderline hysterical. “You honestly couldn’t make that guy up. He’s probably smiling because he’s a smug git. He was up on the roof terrace again earlier.”
“With the girl I saw leaving?” Christopher asked taking off his glasses and cleaning them on the edge of his jumper.
“Yeah. He is so arrogant; he’s got no shame. Didn’t care a tiny bit that I wanted to use the space, just carried on fu—with his antics.” Sophie quickly edited the word ‘fucking’ from her sentence. Christopher was a little old-fashioned and liked his ladies to be, well, ladies. She hated the way he frowned whenever she swore too much, though she found his little foible cute and endearing.
In a world where men and woman were equal, as it should be, she thought, she secretly quite enjoyed his old-fashioned values: opening doors; minding his manners around her. It was a little corner of her world where she could feel different. Special, sometimes, she guessed. Okay, sometimes it made things a little … stiff between them.
She could never actually quite relax enough around him to be herself as she was sure that he’d hate the loud, brazen sass queen bubbling beneath the surface of her persona. But it worked for her nicely; they didn’t spend a lot of time together and it was kinda fun to take on this slightly calmer version of herself around him. Almost like a break from herself in some ways.
“I can’t get over the kinds of women he dates. I have never even looked a girl like that in the eye, let alone got one alone up on a roof terrace,” Christopher mused.
What the fuck? “Uh … hello? I’m right here.” Sophie pulled him up on his statement with a shake of her head. “The kinds of women Nathan dates are bimbo models without an ounce of personality. I thought there was a bit more about you than that? Anyway,” she said, unable to resist a little dig, seeing as how Christopher had just been so openly, if unknowingly, rude, “it’s obvious he’s going to go for stunning women. Have you seen him? He’s got the pick of any woman in the world, I expect. And he bloody knows it.”
Her statement had the desired effect. Christopher walked over to the fridge and asked if she wanted a drink, suddenly keen to change the subject. She was glad. Arsewipe took up enough of her negative headspace as it was. She was done talking about him. So why the hell could she not shake him from her head?
“Hey.” Sophie suddenly remembered. “Do you want to come to a party on New Year’s? I had someone drop their plus one.”
“Charming. What an invite.” Christopher smiled. “Yeah sure. I’d like to come and see what keeps you so busy all the time. I am a bit miffed that we won’t get to continue our tradition.”
Sophie forced a smile back at him, unable to work out why she was faking it. Maybe because their New Year’s Eve tradition involved consuming too much wine and him passing out before midnight. She’d never had that midnight kiss.
7
Sophie
Two Weeks Later…
All day, Sophie had been running around at the bar underneath her flat, barking into her phone and trying to get all the final loose ends tied up and ready for the evening ahead. The bar had been a little bit of an anticlimax. She’d been expecting something uber cool and different. Instead, it was just like any other bar she’d been to.
Some exposed brick. Ridiculously low lighting. Some of the seating booths were pretty neat—surrounded by loads of plush colored chiffon sheets, giving each booth a private, Moulin Rouge kind of feel—but other than that, it was nothing special.
Everything was going smoothly; the caterers had turned up on time, the decorators had placed some tall, palm-like fronds with some funky up-lighting beneath them around, as well as some jungle themed waiting costumes and brightly colored parrot motifs. It was just enough to be within the brief without looking like a five-year-old’s birthday. Who in their right mind combined the holidays with a jungle motif?
Sophie was just relieved beyond belief that her client hadn’t requested fake lions and tigers. It was all going to plan. There were no last minute snags. But Sophie just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, sitting like a lead weight in her stomach. At first, she couldn’t work it out. She was so used to organizing these kind of events— and this one was basic compared to her usual extravagant affairs— but then it dawned on her.
The worry was because of Nathan. She was dreading seeing him. They hadn’t even come across each other in passing over the last fortnight. The last time they had spoken there seemed to be pure hate between them and she was terrified he was going to show her up or embarrass her in some way.
She hated this awkwardness that he had created. Sophie was now at a stage where she dreaded coming back home after work, just in case she bumped into him.
He had accepted the RSVP, but that had had the client’s name on it, not hers. She was worried that he’d take one look at her there and use his good looks to manipulate the client into getting rid of the company she worked for.
Sophie had no evidence that he was really that bad a person, but he certainly didn’t seem to care about anyone other than himself, so she couldn’t put it past him.