Chapter 13

I’m on my knees, gingerly plucking up pieces of glass from the kitchen floor, when Jesse strolls in from the bedroom. I glance up. Oh, that gait of his. He rocks up to me wearing heavy, beige board shorts, a white Ralph Lauren Polo shirt – collar turned up – and blue converse. The blonde hairs on his muscled legs are bleached, highlighted by his slight tan. He’s not shaved, but his blonde stubble doesn’t conceal his handsome features. I’m on my knees, lips parted, looking deprived. He stops in front of me, looking down with a grin on his face. He looks younger.

‘I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. ’ I tease.

His eyes sparkle with delight as he squats in front of me. ‘It would seem your disadvantage would be my complete advantage. ’ he winks.

I want to jump him, but with a hand full of glass shards, us both fully dressed and late, I shall resist.

‘Here, ’ He holds both his hands out in front of him for me to transfer the glass. ‘You should have left it, you could have cut yourself. ’ he moans at me. I tip the glass into his palms and heave myself up from the floor, while he empties his hands, tipping the glass into the sink. ‘I’ll sort it later. ’ He slips his Wayfarer’s on, collects his keys and my bags, before grabbing my hand to lead me to the door.

‘Are you working today? ’ I ask.

‘No, not much goes on at The Manor during the day. ’ He winks at me. I melt. He’s all roguish, and I love it.

He opens the door and we’re immediately met by a couple of scruffy looking men with clipboards, wearing blue overalls. The embroidered print on their uniforms reads, “B& C Removals”.

‘Mr Ward? ’ The one that looks like a trucker asks, his yellow teeth indicating at least fifty cigarettes and twenty cups of coffee a day.

‘The boxes in the spare room go first. My housekeeper will be here shortly to assist with the rest. ’ He pulls me through the corridor, leaving the trucker type and his lanky apprentice to get on with things. ‘Be careful with the ski and bike equipment. ’ he yells behind him.

‘You have a housekeeper? ’ I ask, completely stunned. I don’t know why. The man’s brought the penthouse at Lusso for a cool ten million. Why is this only just sinking in? He’s really rich.

‘She’s the only woman I couldn’t live without, ’ he replies flippantly. ‘She’s off to Ireland next week to visit her family. It’ll all fall apart then. ’

I make it to my car in record time, after Jesse dipped and weaved through the early morning traffic. Fellow drivers seem to be more accommodating to an Aston Martin and a few hand gestures. He loads my bags into the back of my car, while I check my phone. Ten past eight. Okay, I’m late. I fire a quick text to Kate to tell her I’m on my way and look up, finding him staring at me. Even through his Wayfarer’s – which he looks tremendous in – I can feel that potent, green gaze blazing my skin.

I open the driver’s door of my Mini, jump in and start the engine. Jesse is crouched down by my side before I can close the door.

‘I’ll take you for lunch. ’ he informs me.

‘I told you, I’ve got stacks to get done. ’ I’m not being sidetracked by roguish Jesse, although he is very distracting.

‘Dinner then, ’

‘I’ll ring you later. ’ I’ve spent the whole night with him, he’s fucked me into oblivion, and I need some recovery time.

His shoulders sag and he scowls heavily. ‘Are you refusing me? ’

‘No, I’ll call you later. ’ I say on a frown.

‘Fine, ’ he snaps. ‘Make sure you do. ’ He leans in, resting his palm on my jean clad thigh, and plants a deliberately scorching hot kiss on my lips. He knows what he’s doing. He pulls back, leaving me slightly breathless. ‘I’ll wait for your call. ’ he says, strolling away, enhancing that bloody gait. That was a look-what-your-missing kiss. It worked.

‘How old are you, Jesse? ’ I shout after him.

He turns, walking backwards with a fraction of a grin tickling his lips. ‘Twenty four, ’

I drop my shoulders, exhaling a long, exhausted breath. ‘How many times have I got to ask you before we get to your real age? ’

‘Quite a few, lady. ’ He lifts his glasses up a touch and winks before turning away and resuming sexy stride. Everything this man does is effortless and sexy as hell, the way he carries himself, all confident and virile. It’s no wonder women fall at his feet. He’s sex personified. And I can more than vouch for that.

The engine rumbles to life and he roars off like a teenage rally driver. Maybe he is twenty four. He certainly acts it sometimes.

I fly through the front door and up the stairs, finding Kate drying her hair on the landing. She looks flustered, which means she’s running late. When she spots me, she turns the dryer off and grins from ear to ear. I know I’m blushing from head to toe. It’s not going to help me if I choose to go on the defensive.

‘Good night? ’ she asks on an arched brow. She doesn’t seem in much of a rush now. Her eyes are dancing in delight, and I can’t help the smile breaking out across my own face.

‘It was okay. ’ I shrug, reflexively grabbing a tendril of hair. What an understatement. Try mind-blowing, drop dead worthy.

‘Ha! ’ she cries. ‘Do tell. ’ She bats my twiddling fingers away from my hair, looking at me expectedly.

‘Yeah, he’s a God. I can’t lie to you. He’s the new owner of the penthouse. ’

‘Fuck off! He’s delicious and super rich! ’

Yes, it would seem so. ‘Weren’t you worried about me? I left a message on your phone. ’ I can’t believe she’s not been worried about me.

‘I’ve not checked my phone. Anyway, the way he was looking at you, the only thing I was worried about was you not being able to walk this morning, ’ She starts laughing as she chucks her dryer on the floor and makes her way into her super tidy bedroom. ‘And, if I’m not mistaken, there’s a limp. ’ she calls back.

I am a bit sore, actually. Four rounds of Jesse Ward has taken its toll on my body.

I follow her in, flopping on her perfectly made bed. ‘Jesus, Kate. The man has experience. ’ That sudden thought reminds me of all the many conquests that would have come before me. I screw my face up in disgust.

‘You wanted uncomplicated fun. It looks like you’ve got it. High five! ’ She air slaps me and leaves the room. ‘And there’s no girlfriend? ’

Did I want uncomplicated fun? Will this be uncomplicated fun? ‘No, but she wants him. I’ve worked that much out. ’

‘Oh well, unlucky for her. I’ve got to beat feet. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. What are you up to while I’m gone? ’

I roll off her bed and smooth the covers before leaving her immaculate room, shutting the door behind me. ‘I’m going to sort my stuff out. Have we got any bin bags? ’

‘Hurrah! They’re under the sink, ’ She grabs her bag from the top of the stairs and makes her way down to the door. ‘You’re more than welcome to borrow Margo. ’

Is she kidding me? I’d have to complete a ten month leg muscle workout programme to build up the strength to use that clutch. I’ve got cramp just thinking about it. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Drive safe. ’

By six o’clock, I’m sat in the middle of my room surrounded by bin bags. I’ve been brutal. Clearly, my last sort out was half-hearted because I’ve accumulated four sacks of clothes for the charity shop. If I’ve not worn it in the last six months, then it’s in one of those four bags. All of my remaining clothes have been washed and ironed, and are now folded neatly in an organised manner. I feel cleansed. I empty my waste paper basket into a rubbish sack. The calla lily that Jesse gave me tumbles out. It’s all shriveled and discoloured. I should have put it in some water, but back then, I didn’t plan on seeing the man again. I wanted to forget about him. Impossible. I smile to myself, tying the sack and carting it out to the bin.

I collapse on the sofa with a bottle of wine and a family size bar of chocolate to catch up on Saturday night, crappy television.

A few hours later, I’m staring at the last cube of chocolate and feeling slightly nauseous. I really need to start buying a regular size. I pop it in and chomp lazily as I flick the channels repeatedly.

The sound of my phone drags me from the sofa, my heart giving a little skip. It could be Jesse. I groan. It’s Matt. What does he want? It’s Saturday night and he’s newly single to do what he pleases. Not that our relationship ever stopped him from doing exactly that anyway.

‘Hello? ’

‘Ava, you okay? ’ He doesn’t sound drunk.

‘Yeah, are you? ’ What does he want?

‘Good, how did yesterday go? ’

My wine glass halts on its way to my lips. Why do I feel interrogated all of a sudden? It’s just a friendly question. What should I say? I had sex in the penthouse with the new owner; I went home with him; he fucked me up the arse; he’s older, I’m not sure how much older, but an absolute Adonis; I can’t walk properly today…

‘Really good, thanks. ’ I say instead.

‘Great, ’ he chirps, but then there’s a long pause.

Why all the sudden interest in my career? When I told him that I’d won the Lusso contract, he’d asked me what I’d done for dinner. I hear him draw breath.

‘Ava, do you fancy lunch on Tuesday? ’ He doesn’t sound right. He sounds all nervous and timid, not the usual conceited, sure Matt that I know. What’s he doing in on a Saturday night?

‘Sure, is everything okay? ’

‘Not really. I’ll speak to you Tuesday, yeah? ’

‘Okay. ’ I reply hesitantly. I hope nothing dreadful has happened.

‘I’ll meet you at Baroque at one o’clock. Is that okay? ’

‘Of course, I’ll see you then. ’ I hang up. He really doesn’t sound good. He might be an arrogant, cheating rat, and I might be well shot of him, but you don’t just stop caring.

I flick the television off and take myself to my newly cleansed bedroom, retreating hastily under my duvet. I’m completely whacked. Being tucked up in bed at this time on a Saturday night is new territory for me these days, but after my recent exertions, the sleep is most welcome.

***

I come awake to music and stretch in my bed. It’s a lovely satisfied stretch that tells me I’ve had a very restful sleep. I sit up. What is that? It takes a while for my brain to kick into awake mode, but when it’s does, I can still hear music. I brush my hair from my face. The music stops.

Huh? Is Kate back already? I glance at my clock. Nine o’clock? Christ, I’ve not slept this late in years. I flop back on my pillow with a smile. It would seem that Jesse Ward is good for my sex life and my sleep.

There’s that music again. The familiar sound of Noel Gallagher’s Sunday Morning Call penetrates my ear drums. I love that track. I frown, reaching for my phone and see Jesse’s name flashing on the screen. I smile as I connect the call.

‘How did you do that? ’ My voice is husky from sleep.

‘Do what? ’ he asks. I can’t see him, but I know he’s grinning that cocky, sexy grin.

‘You rigged my phone. ’ I accuse.

‘Where are you? ’

‘In bed. ’ Recovering from you!

‘Naked? ’ he asks – all low and husky.

Oh no! I’m not getting into sleazy phone sex. I know where this is going. His voice does things to me. ‘No, I’m not. ’

‘I could remedy that. ’

I shudder at the thought. How can he spark such reactions by being on the end of the phone? ‘How’s your new apartment? ’ I need to change the direction of conversation quickly.

‘Full of Italian shit. ’

‘Funny. Where are you? ’

He sighs. ‘At The Manor, you said you would call. ’ He sounds slighted.

Yes, I did say I would call, but it’s only been twenty four hours – ish, and I’m majorly uncomfortable with the fact that I really, really wanted to call him.

‘I got carried away sorting my room out. ’ I did. And it’s a good job done. I’m ignoring the fact that I purposely kept myself busy.

‘What are you doing today? I want to see you. ’

What? Just like that? Christ, hasn’t he had enough of me? Obviously not, but is this a good Idea? Damn, I want to see him. I’m much too young for him. And I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him. With his looks, confidence and talent in the pleasure department, he’s a sure fire way to a broken heart. I need a reliable, trustworthy man – a man who’ll look after me and walk on hot coals for me. I silently laugh. My expectations are ridiculously high, but given my last two relationships, I’m sticking to the plan. If Jesse wants to see me, it should be on my terms. I can’t be seen to be desperate.

‘No can do, ’ I say dismissively. ‘I’m super busy. ’ Doing sweet fuck all! Damn, I want to see him.

‘Busy doing what? ’ He’s shocked. Why wouldn’t I be busy? I have a life.

‘All sorts. ’

‘Are you fiddling with your hair, by any chance? ’ His voice is full of humour.

I pause, mid-twiddle. How has he cottoned on to that? ‘I’ll call you tomorrow. ’ I inform him. Will I? I’m just about to hang up when I hear that cold, unfriendly voice I hate so much. What the bloody hell is she doing there? I’m uncomfortable with how uncomfortable that makes me feel. Why should I care?

‘Ava, wait a minute. ’ He must cover his phone because the voices become muffled, but it’s definitely her. I bristle all over, which is crazy stupid. ‘Sarah, just give me a second, will you? ’ He sounds slightly pissed. ‘Ava, are you there? ’

I should just hang up. ‘Yeah, ’ Damn me!

‘You’ll call tomorrow. ’ he says. It‘s a statement, not a question.

‘I will. ’ I hang up quickly. That was not how I wanted to end the conversation. He pretty much told me to call, and I agreed. That is not being on the front foot.

I huff my way out of bed and take myself to the shower. What am I going to do all day, anyway? Kate’s not home and the house is spick and span, as usual. I need something to divert my unreasonable, jealous frame of mind.

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