Wicked Game

by Michelle Betham

  “No,” I murmur, gripping his belt, my eyes burning into his. “Would you?”

  “We don’t need to.”

  That’s all he says, and I frown. That seems like a strange thing to say, but like I said, we’ve both had too much to drink, and it’s late. It’s that time of night when, after a few drinks, people can be prone to talking crap, saying shit that makes no sense.

  “We should go to bed,” I say, and he drops his forehead, rests it against mine, and he smiles at me, the corner of his mouth inching up in that familiar way.

  “Good idea.” He grins, and I laugh, and that moment there, when something didn’t feel quite right, it’s forgotten.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I ask, running my thumb over his slightly open mouth. “Because I am.”

  “Well, you don’t have to do anything, baby. Just let me do all the work.”

  “You kill me with romance, do you know that?”

  He grins again, and again I laugh.

  We’re Noah and Kari.

  We’re back to being us.

  Just us …

  Ten

  Slipping the card out of its hiding place behind one of my credit cards, I stare down at the name.

  Joe Millar.

  Flipping the card between my fingers I watch as it drops onto the desk, his name staring back up at me, and I place my hand over it, drag it back, curl my fingers around it. I should have thrown it away, should have left it in Norway. None of this was supposed to follow us home. What happened wasn’t supposed to impact our life in any way, other than to bring Noah and I even closer. But this – this is making me think about him. This is making me remember how it felt, when he touched me. His voice. His lips brushing the base of my throat, his beard bristling against my skin. His eyes, a dark yet striking blue. I’m shocked that I can remember so much about a man I barely spent any time with. Barely looked at, my eyes were closed so much of the time. But I remember.

  “Caron needs the phone number for the Clark party contact, Kari.”

  Jenna’s voice drags me back from those thoughts and I quickly shove the card into my drawer. “Hmm? Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “Yeah. You were. The number for the Clark party contact. Caron needs it.”

  “Oh, right … I’ll text her. Everything else okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Are you?”

  “You said when I was ready, Jenna.” I pick up my phone and quickly text Caron the number she needs. “I’m not, ready.”

  “You realise I’m kind of concerned now.”

  I look up. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.” I throw her a smile, but I don’t think she’s buying it. “Do you want a coffee?”

  “Please.” She sits down on the edge of my desk as I get up and go over to the coffee machine in the corner of our office. “I hear Noah’s trying out something new in the restaurant this week.”

  “Yeah. He gathered together a few new recipe ideas when we were over in Norway, and he thought it would be a good idea to set up a special night to try them out, see how they go down with the customers. See if any of the dishes are worth adding to the menu. You’re coming, aren’t you? It’s on Wednesday.”

  “Yeah, we’ll be there … Who’s Joe Millar?”

  The teaspoon I was holding clatters onto the counter before it drops to the floor and I hurriedly crouch down to retrieve it. Placing the spoon in the sink I turn around, see Jenna looking right at me, holding Joe’s card in her hand.

  “Is he a new client?”

  My heart starts beating like a jackhammer, I don’t know what to tell her. I’m usually quite good at thinking on my feet, but this time I’m lost. I can’t tell her he’s a client, I can’t lie like that because she’ll keep asking questions. So, what do I tell her?

  “Kari? You listening to me?”

  “Sorry, yes … yes, I’m listening to you. He’s … he’s no one.”

  Is that seriously the best I can come up with? I could bite off my tongue, she isn’t going to leave it at that, I know her too well.

  Jenna raises an eyebrow, then looks down at the card again before raising her gaze to meet mine. “No one … Why do you have his card, then?”

  I turn away, start to pour the coffee. Why am I feeling so guilty? I did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Am I ashamed? Is that it? Am I ashamed of what we did?

  No.

  Never.

  “He’s one of Noah’s contacts. I must’ve taken his card when we were over in Norway.” I turn around and hand Jenna her coffee.

  She keeps her eyes on me as she takes the mug I hold out, her other hand still holding onto the card. “Is he a fellow chef?”

  “I don’t know.” I lean back against the wall and will her to end this conversation.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Are you going to repeat every answer I give you?”

  “If he’s one of Noah’s contacts he’s most probably a chef, right? Or involved in the food industry in some way …”

  “Does it matter?”

  My tone may have been just a little too defensive there, in fact, I know it was. Jenna’s expression is telling me as much.

  “Have I touched a nerve somewhere?”

  “What fucking nerve could you possibly have touched, Jenna?”

  Okay, my tone was definitely defensive there. And I instantly regret that.

  “Jenna, I’m sorry …”

  A knock on the office door distracts us and we both look over as Fran pokes her head around it. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, it’s just that Milly King from King & Krown Productions is downstairs, and she’s wondering if she could possibly speak to one of you about getting the Christmas events planning started early? She wants to stay one step ahead of the game, so …”

  “I’ll go,” Jenna says, sliding down from the desk. “Here.” She hands me the card and throws me a look. “You might need this.”

  I take it from her, and I glance down at it.

  I should have thrown it away.

  I could still get rid of it.

  If I wanted to …

  *

  I’m still up when Noah finally gets home, nursing a whisky and watching the box-set I save for the nights when he isn’t home, because it’s a show I know he isn’t keen on. But it’s my guilty pleasure.

  “What are you still doing up?” he asks, leaning over to kiss the top of my head before throwing himself down on the couch beside me.

  “I’m not tired yet. Thought I’d cram in a few more episodes of this while you weren’t around.”

  He glances at the TV and pulls a face. “You’re still watching this?”

  “I like it.”

  He looks at me, and he smirks. “And I always thought you had good taste.”

  I smirk back. “Whatever made you think that, when I married you?”

  He picks up a cushion and flings it at me, I fling it straight back, and then he pulls me around so I straddle him, and he kisses me. He slides his hands up under my T-shirt and I gasp as his cold fingers touch my warm skin.

  “All these late nights, Noah. I miss you when you’re not here.”

  “It comes with the territory, baby. You know that.”

  I do, he’s right, and I’ve never complained before. Never come across as needy, never nagged him to cut down on his hours so we can spend more time together. Food is his passion, it’s what he does. What he loves to do. And I’ve never stood in the way of that, I have no idea why I’m doing it now.

  “Yeah. I know.”

  He presses his hand onto my back, pushing me against him and he kisses me again. And when he kisses me, more memories of that night flood my brain, and I pull back from him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning slightly.

  “Nothing, I … what did you mean, the other night? When you asked me, would I do it again? What we did, in Norway, you asked if I’d do it again, I said no. And when I asked you the same question you said we d
on’t need to. What did you mean by that?”

  I guess that comment stayed fixed there, in the back of my mind, even though I’d all but dismissed it as something said in a slightly drunken haze.

  “I didn’t mean anything,” he replies, lifting me up off his lap and standing up. “I need one of those.” He jerks his head in the direction of my whisky glass and heads out into the kitchen. I follow him; watch him as he pours himself a large measure.

  “I think you did.”

  He swings around, his eyes fixed on mine as he takes a sip of his whisky. “We’d both had a lot to drink, we didn’t know what we were saying.”

  “I remember the entire conversation, Noah.”

  He narrows his eyes, downs the rest of his whisky in one mouthful. “It’s late. I’m tired. I’ve had a long day and I’ve got another early start in the morning, so, I’m going to bed.”

  He strides past me, but I grab his arm, I stop him from leaving, and as his eyes bore into mine I feel sick. My stomach’s twisting and turning because I know something isn’t right. I felt it, as soon as I woke up the morning after that night. As soon as I saw him standing by the window; when he dropped his head, his body language – something didn’t feel right, and that didn’t change once we got back home. It hasn’t changed. I’ve just been trying to convince myself I was wrong. That I was being stupid. Imagining things. But I don’t think I’m wrong, I don’t think I’m being stupid. Not now.

  “It was just a fantasy, Kari. One we both wanted to live out …”

  “Why? Because it really was just something you wanted to experience, once? A special birthday present you’ll never forget?”

  “That’s exactly why. And why are you bringing this up now, huh? It was weeks ago, it’s over, done …”

  “You brought it up again, Noah, not me. But, if I’m being honest, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that what happened … there has to be consequences. When you do something like that, there has to be consequences.”

  He stares at me, and he frowns again. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “What happened – what I did … I cheated on you.”

  His expression softens, and he gently cups my cheek with the palm of his hand. “No, Kari, you didn’t. Baby, it was a beautiful night, a fantasy we got to live out, that’s all. That’s all.”

  “You watched another man have sex with me.”

  I’m really not dealing with this as well as I thought I could. If I was dealing with it, this wouldn’t be happening, I wouldn’t be feeling like this.

  “Another man fucked me, Noah. And you watched him do it. Why aren’t you angry? Why aren’t you upset? Why aren’t you questioning what we did …?”

  “Because it meant nothing, Kari. It’s over. It’s in the past, and that’s where you should leave it. Don’t let it do this to you. To us.” He leans in to kiss me, slow and deep. “Remember how it made us feel, baby. How it made you feel, hang on to that, because that’s all that matters.”

  I don’t know what I think anymore. But I do think we should have thought more carefully about doing what we did. We should have thought about the consequences. The aftermath. We should have talked about how we felt, and whether it was worth it.

  “It hasn’t changed us, Kari. We’re still you and me, nothing will ever change that. Nothing. I won’t let it.” And that’s it. It’s like he’s drawn a line under this subject now. Like he’s done talking about it, when I don’t think we’ve even started. We should have done. We should have talked more. Been more aware of what we were getting into. What it would do to us; how it would make us feel, when it was over.

  Guilty?

  No. Not guilty.

  Scared?

  A little. But of what, I’m still not sure.

  But then, is it possible I’m just seeing things that don’t exist? Or is Noah refusing to see things that do …?

  Eleven

  It’s a busy evening in the crowded nightclub where Jenna and I are overseeing a private party for a local celebrity – Ally Farmer, a very popular, Newcastle-born soap star. A party we’ve spent the past three months planning, and so far, it’s going well. The place is full of people enjoying themselves, the food is great, there’s an obscene amount of Champagne and Prosecco flowing, and everyone’s having a great time. Including me and Jenna. Only, we’re keeping clear heads. No alcohol. That wouldn’t be professional. We’re here to make sure everything goes smoothly, that’s all.

  I lean back against the wall and take a sip of one of the mocktails a particularly talented bartender made for me. It tastes of lime and coconut with a hint of ginger. He asked me for some of my favourite flavours, I told him, and he came up with this, and now I know why we keep hiring him.

  Looking out across the club, I watch people dancing and laughing, everyone’s enjoying themselves, people I recognise, vaguely, and those I don’t recognise at all. And I smile to myself as I remember how nervous Jenna and I had been when we’d first set up our business. We’ve come a long way since then. Ten years later, we’ve become the go-to event planners in the region, and I’m proud of what we’ve achieved. Work’s a success. My personal life? I’m not so sure anymore. Despite everything Noah said to me the other night, things still feel a little strange between us. Different, somehow. Like something shifted, something changed, but neither of us are quite sure what so we’ve chosen to ignore it.

  “I need some air.” I hand Jenna my drink. “I won’t be long.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just need a breather.”

  I head outside, out onto the street. It’s a busy Thursday night in Newcastle, the place is buzzing, full of people heading to pubs and clubs, bars and restaurants. People of all ages, couples and groups, and for a few seconds I just stand there and take it all in. I escape, for a moment. I think of nothing, I wipe my mind clean, let my head clear, and after a few minutes I feel ready to go back inside. I put my professional face back on, I smile and chat with people as I make my way through the crowd, trying to find Jenna. She’s up on the balcony that overlooks the dancefloor, talking to someone, and I head upstairs to join her. The man she’s deep in conversation with has his back to me, his hands in the pockets of his dark grey jeans, his white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dark hair just long enough to curl up over the back of his collar, and he’s tall, much taller than me. Quite imposing, almost. And then Jenna spots me over his shoulder, her face breaking into a wide grin.

  “Hey, you’re back.”

  “I am.”

  She gestures at me to come closer, her eyes back on the man in front of her, but before she can say anything else he slowly turns around, his striking blue eyes locking with mine. And that’s when my heart skids to a halt; a rush of déjà vu hits me, almost knocking me sideways, like a sucker punch to the gut. But I keep the smile fixed on my face. I can’t let that slip, I can’t do that.

  “Kari. Good to see you again.”

  He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I hesitate for just the briefest of seconds before I take it, his fingers curling slowly around mine, his eyes fixed firmly on me as he smiles. He’s lost the beard now, and I’m thrown slightly by how different that makes him look. Younger. Even more handsome.

  “Joe, I … what – what are you doing here?”

  He lets go of my hand, slips his into his pockets as he looks from me to Jenna, and all I’m feeling right now is confusion … no, that’s a lie. I’m feeling so much more than confusion, because every memory of that night – what we did together – it’s now crashing forward, invading my thoughts at a time when I can’t let that happen.

  “Well, I’m in the process of opening up offices here in the north east of England, and I’m going to need people to take charge of all my business and personal events in the region. People I can trust, I’ll be dealing with some very important clients.”

  He’s making me nervous, but I have to stay focused here. I can’t let Jenna know something’
s wrong. That I’m not comfortable with this.

  “You didn’t say anything, last time we met.”

  His face breaks into another slow smile, he knows what I’m trying to do here. “We didn’t have a great deal of time to talk, did we? Last time we met.” His eyes linger on mine for a few, long seconds before he turns his attention to Jenna, although, he’s still talking to me. “Jenna’s told me a lot about you; about your business. I’m really interested to learn more about you guys, that’s why I’m trying to set up a meeting, for tomorrow, if possible. And I’m sorry to talk business at a party – a party I will admit to gatecrashing, and I really do apologise for that, but there are some things that just can’t wait.”

  He looks at me as he says those final few words, and I feel a shiver race up my spine. An unwanted shiver, but I can’t stop it from happening.

  “I’m sure Jenna can arrange something.” I tear my eyes from his and look at Jenna, fixing a smile back on my face. “Can I leave you to it? I just want to check Ally’s happy with everything.”

  “Yeah, I’m good … Oh, hang on, before you go, are you going to be around tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  She looks at Joe. “Is ten-thirty okay?” She directs that at him, and he immediately glances in my direction.

  “If that’s okay with Kari?”

  It’s Jenna’s turn to look at me, and I just want to get away now. I want to run. “It’s fine with me.”

  I turn away and head back down the stairs, try to find a member of Ally’s family; management, friends. And after a quick chat with her agent and her sister, I’m satisfied that we’re doing a great job here tonight. And it’s a party that’s nowhere near wrapping up just yet, but I’ve got waves of exhaustion washing over me now. I’m tired, confused, but I need to stay. I can’t expect Jenna to handle this on her own, and I don’t really want to leave her here, with him.

  Joe Millar …

  I need some time, to think, so I head out to the back of the club, to the office we’ve been given the use of for the night. It’s quiet in here, I can finally be alone, and I walk over to the desk, grab hold of the edge, dropping my head and breathing in deep. What’s he doing here? Why is he here? I don’t understand …