Sneak Peak – Who is Erebus
If you love reformed players, and don’t mind a man with a past, then you’ll love Who is Erebus. You may have met him in The Intern when he joined Derek and Jade to spice things up. Now, he’s looking for a future but can he really leave his past behind?
Chapter 1 - A Moment of Truth
Erebus
The man they knew as Erebus collected his clothes, taking one last look at the room and sleeping couple. Empty bottles and leather items of clothing were still strewn around. The short dark hair of the man and long black hair of the woman intermingled on their shared pillow as she lay spooned by her lover. The night of passion and her content evident in her sleeping smile.
No matter – he was finished for the evening and his instructions were to be gone before the couple awoke. He didn’t think his shower had taken long, but clearly long enough for them to fall asleep.
Quietly closing the door behind him, and not for the first time he wondered. How did his life come to this? As a leading finance analyst, he had the job, the salary, car, mortgage on an inner city apartment and any girl he wanted. All gone with a couple of ill-timed trades. Using the firm’s money and losing his own in a gamble that didn’t pay off.
Waiting for the lift, he remembered the weeks of running out of money, losing his home and still walking away with a mountain of debt. Unemployed, and unemployable in the financial industry, he finally accepted the offer of a former colleague asking him to help out and as a stripper for her sister’s hen’s night.
The first gig had been eye-opening. Flirting with the bride-to-be, flirting with her friends. The desire in his ex-colleague’s eyes as he stripped down to a g-string before the offer to make more for a private performance. When he politely turned her down, she booked him again for another friend’s event. Then the money and offers flooded his way.
No longer able to use his brain to make money, his body stepped up to the task. Within weeks, he had a full diary and almost earned the same sort of money he did from trading. But night after night performing the same routine to the same songs became boring. He couldn’t imagine stripping long enough to clear his debts and those of his parents who had trusted him.
“You looked good up there,” a guest at one of his shows offered him his towel and a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” the hardest part of his job was the get-away. The more he insisted on not sleeping with clients, the harder they tried.
“How would you like to earn double, and there is no dancing involved?”
“I don’t offer full service,” shame, because if he did she would be the easiest money ever.
“I’m not asking you to sleep with me,” she leaned in, giving him full view of what she had on offer. “I want to pay you to watch my partner fuck me.”
That got his attention and a new career. Once a week, his new client paid for him to watch her and her partner engage in whatever they wanted to in the bedroom.
The rules were simple. Never a full service. The only touching was with women. Never use his real name.
Usually, his only role was to be in the same room and watch the couple try to outperform each other, be a witness to their inhibitions. Occasionally he offered “stimulation” for the female while her partner recovered.
Once his number started being passed around, he invested money in outfits, including a mask. Amongst the wealthy, Sydney remained a small town and the last thing he needed or wanted was for people from his old life seeing him use his body or even worse, judge him.
He could handle the women – in a way he became the perfect man. Ready to make them feel young, sexy and incredibly desirable. They adored him while he lay back and counted the dollars. No, the women were never going to be a problem – it was their partners. He never wanted to see pity or worse, recognition, in the men’s eyes. In a strange twist of fate, it was men like his former colleagues who became his most profitable clients – only able to perform under extreme pressure.
Proof yet again last evening - there was nothing like having a young, well hung and muscled man in the room to keep a wife or girlfriend aroused and the man determined to perform.
The problem began when he started seeing one of his regulars as a woman instead of a client. Short bursts of conversation while they waited for her partner. He thought he’d hardened his heart and was immune to feelings. Only to realize that he couldn’t keep up this lifestyle forever.
Leaving the foyer a quick check of his bank balance showed he now had everything financially he’d lost, it was the emptiness in his soul screamed to be filled. Years of working hard and finally he could think about his exit strategy and move onto a life with more meaning.
The train timetable hadn’t been designed for night workers. Especially night workers who needed to travel from one side of the city to the other.
It was almost dawn by the time Erebus opened the door to his tiny bedsit. He spent every dollar earned in the last four years on clearing debts, invested in the clothes for “work”, or savings. No more wasting money to rent a fancy address or drive a current model sports car. He even made his own gym equipment from left over items from construction sites. Ironic, really, most woman wanted him dressed as either the hunky tradesman or a masked stranger in their bedroom. Little did they know the only “honorable” money he made came from laboring and using the skills honed from years working on his father’s building sites.
No woman ever spent time in his bedsit, not that there was room for two. What woman would allow her man to do the things he did? Any woman who would put up with him as a partner was not the sort of woman he wanted.
He needed another shower before bed. Long and hot enough to clear his head. The past four years had done the job financially and it was time to start planning for what’s next. The online ad that fascinated him for weeks was still live. Yes, that’s it!
It took an hour to clear his schedule for five free days and he knew exactly how and where to spend them.
Chapter 2 - She
Felicity
Felicity Grainger nursed her broken fingernail and empty water bottle. Too much tapping on the steering wheel waiting for the rude city jerk to turn up and view the property. She had to drop by her father’s home and make sure her father took his diabetes medications, prepare his dinner and do anything else to make his life more comfortable before going home and getting ready for classes next semester.
“It won’t take long,” her friend, Sonia, cajouled. “Turn up, let him look through the property and get him to talk to me tomorrow.”
“I can’t – I need to look after dad.”
“I promise, these things never take more than ten to fifteen minutes, especially with this old house. He’ll walk in expecting a mansion and run out as soon as he sees what a money pit it could be. Still, I need to prove to the vendor that I’m still trying, but I can’t get there tomorrow. Please, Flick, I’m counting on you.”
Clearly, the potential buyer was a rich pompous arsehole who valued his own time over everyone else. Especially poor little country folk like Felicity. Probably used to fast paced life style and woke up one morning with a romantic notion of a house in the country that he planned to visit on weekends. He would – at least for the first year – he would even try and make friends with his neighbors.
Felicity hated labelling people with generalizations, but a drive down any street showed empty houses that locals couldn’t afford, but lay empty. All because rich owners couldn’t bother living in them any more but didn’t want to give up their romantic dreams and sell up.
No matter, almost a week’s wages to hang around until he showed. He was only an hour late. He’d better be worth it.
Erebus
Pulling over, Erebus found his phone from the back of the car. Throwing it in a fit of frustration not exactly his brightest move, but completely understandable. The GPS had sent his rental car off in the wrong direction. Yes, it was his fault for not downloading the latest update. Yes, he should have asked for directions after being lost for half an hour.
Surely, one of the benefits of being a small town is that you didn’t need a bloody map to find one house!
Now he was second guessing himself – did he plan to meet at the real estate office or the house? He finally stopped outside the office and found the contact number. Damn, he needed to meet some girl at the house. “Turn left at the corner, go through two intersections towards the beach, take a right,” the professional female voice recited, “Then another right and you can’t miss it. The big white house with an even larger tree out the front.
Clear and very precise instructions - whomever answered the phone sounded annoyed and rightly so. He’d never kept a client waiting and hated when they stuffed him around.
His phone assured him a florist lived at the end of the main street. For once, the phone knew best. He couldn’t give back the realter her day, but he could give her flowers and his best apology.
Wow. Just wow. Driving into the street, only one property stood out. A massive, white weatherboard house in need of more than a coat of paint, and with a relatively tiny “For Sale” sign stuck next to the driveway.
As he got out of the car, his shoulders immediately relaxed at the sound of the ocean nearby. Already he could imagine it lulling him to sleep after a day of surfing. Waking at dawn, surfing until lunchtime and then fish and chips on the beach covered in salt and sand! He licked the film of sea-spray from his lips.
Perfect.
The town, the house, the location was perfect. He needed a project and the photos didn’t hide the amount of time, work or money the house needed to be turned into a home, again. His home.
He wanted a place to settle down and move away from what his life had become. All he needed was to find this Felicity, beg her forgiveness and convince her to sell him the house for a price he could afford.
“Mr E,” a soft voice appeared from the side of the house as he walked up to the front verandah. A vision of dark brown hair, light blue eyes greeted him professionally but with distain. As he approached to shake her hand, he took in her simple long dress, the skirt flapping in the sea breeze. Either she wasn’t a typical realter or perhaps the owner? “I’m glad to welcome you to our town. have you been here before?”
Instead of shaking her hand, he held it a little longer. Capturing her eyes, he pleaded “I’m so terribly sorry for being late – it’s completely my fault for not looking up a map so I knew where I was going.” Turning up the charm, he offered her the flowers, noticing her surprise and awkwardness in how to respond. He smiled to himself, the perfect gift.
“Felicity, is it, the good part of being lost is I’ve had a lot of time looking around the area, and this town,” she rewarded his humility with a shy smile. “The whole area, this town is beautiful. Have you always lived here?”
“All my life, and my parents as well.”
Erebus followed her through the house, noting the old floor boards that creaked as he walked and sounded her way through the rooms with her heels. He hadn’t made an offer and already he imagined stripping the door frames of the sloppy, cheap paint job and replacing the white with a deep stain to bring out the natural woodgrain. It could become the passion of love he needed.
He nodded, keeping his face as neutral as possible as he realized the enormous amount of work required. This house needed someone with vision to know what was needed, the money to invest and the time to make sure it was done properly. The house needed someone like him.
The woman, Felicity, followed him with a never ending script of nervous chatter about the home and the town. It was all white noise to his own journey. Every part of this house called out to him – it wanted to be a home again – every creak of a board and peel of paint wanted it to be his home.
“What do you think?” Felicity wanted his attention.
He shrugged, “Needs a lot of work.” She couldn’t argue, “A lot of expensive work.” Now she matched his eyes. No reason for her to think he had bundles of cash to throw around. “It also needs someone here to do the work, which is why the original listing is dated last year.”
He wandered around again, tapping the walls to find the studs, flicking away the peeling paint and kicking at the loose boards. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he could even do most of the work himself. The bills for the trades, well he shuddered to think. “There’s far more work than I expected. Let’s hope the backyard looks better?”
Now her face lit up, “That’s my favourite part of the whole house.” She almost ran outside, throwing the door open for him to see.
All the effort and love lacking inside was evident in the backyard. Well cared for garden beds raised, with composting set up down the back, chicken runs and evidence of vegetables and fruit trees. Walking through the garden beds, he recognized some of the vegetables left to grow to seed. His mum would have an old rhubarb and apple pie recipe for the purple stalks.
“Look,” he found some beans still growing wild, “They taste better fresh and raw.”
“They’re new, I didn’t see them on the weekend when Sonia and I came to clean up a bit.”
“You like?” he gave her a small handful. “The only way to eat them.” Her first genuine smile and all it took was to feed her!
This could become his home. A home to live with and love with someone special. A fresh start for the rest of his life.
Think you know him? Think again. Get today.