I GRAB MY light grey yoga pants and Ramones T-shirt, scrape my hair high on my head, and skip downstairs. I overslept, not a huge surprise given my weekend, and luckily I’m due to help in the kitchen this morning, so my appearance is not a priority. I slink into the store cupboard and emerge with an armful of vegetables, hoping no one will notice I’m late.
“It’s no good trying that trick, girl. You’d have to get up a whole heap earlier to pull that one over on me, and”--Joe looks at his watch--“that didn’t happen this morning, did it, Bets?” His kind eyes betray his reprimanding tone.
“I’ll work extra hard Joe, promise.” I smile my biggest smile, hoping to charm him a little. I still have to ask for a shift change.
“You always work hard, girl.” He grins, then barks, “Get to work!” By ten thirty I’ve prepped the vegetables and salads, and I’m just about to grab a coffee, when the doorbell to the back entrance rings. I open the door to a group of workmen who proceed to stream past me and into the corridor. Anthony, Jr., comes out of his office and starts to direct the men to the shower room and up the stairs.
“Oh, morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling today?” I cringe a little at this since I know it’s a direct result of my meltdown on Sunday, and I am not sure how much Marco has disclosed to his older brother; knowing Marco, it’s probably just enough.
“Anthony, I’m fine, thanks. Good, actually.” I certainly sound chipper. “What’s with all the workmen?”
“Oh, that. It’s nothing. Fixing the shower door and some extra security.” He starts to back up into his office. “It’s been a long time coming.” Just as he shuts his door, I jump in front of it to prevent him from closing it.
“Anthony, this has nothing to do with me, does it? You’re not going to all this expense for me?” I am just about to die of embarrassment if that’s the case.
“Not at all sweetheart. You can check with Dad. We had this planned for a long time, just had to shuffle which of the restaurants we were going to trial it in, and, lucky you, you get to be guinea pig!” He ruffles my hair, and I’m instantly at ease. I would hate to think Sofia’s dad was having to pay because I went a little ‘postal’.
“Oh, okay.” I am a little relieved.
“Bets, I need you to do me a favour, though?” He flicks through his phone like he is looking for some information.
“Anything.” I reply but he still doesn’t look at me.
“Can you work through? I was landed with Marco’s Ski crowd group booking at lunch. The little shit gives me no notice, and even gets Mama to call it in, so I can’t refuse. You can have tonight off in exchange. I’ll fix it with Joe.” He lifts his head with a grin, but I have already agreed.
“Sure, not a problem. Well, other than the relentless come-ons with that lot, harmless but exhausting.” I smile and roll my eyes.
“Just tell Joe if they give you any trouble, sweetheart. He has some very big knives.” He winks and returns to his office. I return to the kitchen and mentally high five myself, because this is a good result for me. Just before one I change into my work clothes and set up the big table for Marco’s crowd. Throughout the morning, I have had a steady stream of texts from Daniel. His playfulness makes me smile. His texts range from questions regarding what type of food I like, what drink apart from tequila, to deeply detailed descriptions of how he intends to make me scream tonight, and how often. Seriously I’m at work, surrounded by possibly the most flirtatious men on the planet, and I’m blushing like a nun in Amsterdam. I slip my phone in my apron for the hundredth time.
“Hey, Marco, when are you going to convince Bets that I’m the man of her dreams if she would just give me a chance? Look, she’s blushing already. You know that’s a good sign, right? It means your body wants me.” I stand at the end of the table as Marco snakes a protective arm around my hip and glowers at his best friend.
“Stef, don’t flatter yourself, man. That colour is not for you, and if it was, I’d lock her in a tower and throw away the key. She is too good for you. I’ve yet to meet a man good enough, but it certainly ain’t a player like you.” Marco laughs at his best friend, who tries to look offended.
“Takes one to know one, Marco.” He tips his beer bottle and clinks it with Marco, and the whole table erupt in boisterous laughter.
“Men are pigs.” I lean forward and kiss Marco on the head, just so he knows I don’t mean him. I finish serving the last coffee and retrieve my phone once again. Every question Daniel has asked, however silly or obscure, has made it really hard not to ask my own. I feel myself wanting to know about him, his family, his life, and I actually have to physically curl my fingers into tight fists to prevent that line of enquiry. It’s not that I am not interested--I really am. It’s just that knowing more will make this less like the fun it is supposed to be. I have to keep this fun; fun is temporary, and temporary I understand.
His last text reminds me his driver will pick me up at six. He also suggests for the third time I get some rest. I can’t believe in the space of a weekend I’ve gone from virgin to nymphomaniac. I feel like the sexual equivalent of his supercar, nought to insatiable in three point zero days. I head upstairs to rest, read, and I really need to catch up with Sofia. I notice the small flashing green then red lights in the corner of each room straight away. I don’t have a television, so anything electrical would stand out like a sore thumb. I run back downstairs and knock on Anthony, Jr.’s, office door.
“Hey, sweetheart. How was lunch?” He grins widely.
“Are you fishing for compliments or information?” I narrow my eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Lunch was fine. Marco kept the wolves at bay… I just wanted to check something. The flashing lights in my apartment, they’re just motion detectors right, no cameras? I don’t want to find out my super exciting life has gone viral?” Anthony laughs and slaps me on the shoulder.
“That would have to be the dullest YouTube ever, sweetheart.” I can see full-on hysterics bubbling beneath his laugh, but he holds off to add, “No cameras, just sensors.” I must look relieved when he adds. “Just a safety thing, okay?”
“Okay, thanks.” I head back up to my new ‘super safe’ apartment.
Having smoothed things over with Sofia, I’m a bad friend for leaving her to worry, but she was placated when I told her all the details of my weekend with Daniel. She has a penchant for the dramatic and is a complete romantic, so she has read way too much into the ‘rescue in the rain’ incident. Her world view is a little rose-tinted, and it’s wonderful for her to have found her perfect match in Paul, but I am much more likely to think horse when I hear hooves, while Sofia hears unicorns. I have washed as best I can, and I am thankful that Sofia takes me for regular waxing treatments, because I would easily sever an artery trying to shave my legs, balancing with one leg high in the sink. I am now in a panic. What underwear? I know what’s on the agenda tonight, and I would love to wear something sexy and alluring, or even pretty would be good. I can’t wear any of the lingerie I have been sent. Another box came today, cream silk lace bra and panties; that set would be perfect. But it would feel wrong to wear underwear bought by one man to fuck another. It feels like cheating, and I know how he feels about lying. What if he asked? Okay, that’s ridiculous, but it would still feel wrong; plain Jane it is, then.
I wish I had asked a few more questions about tonight, because now I’m getting nervous. He said dinner. Did he mean dinner at his apartment? Is he going to cook, or is he taking me out? Where would he take me? What should I wear? I look in my wardrobe and eighty percent of what is hanging there belongs to Sofia. She comes over, hauling armfuls of clothes that she is bored with, some of it still with tags, and she switches my wardrobe around so it is a constantly changing entity and full of surprises. I find a thin jersey wrap around dress in black, a cropped leather jacket and my knee-high boots. The evenings are chilly now, so I take a scarf, too. I have straightened my hair and put a little lip gloss on, but I don’t want Daniel’s driver ringing the bell, so I go to wait outside by the back door just before six. I see the sleek Bentley pull around the corner and not that this is a rare sight in Knightsbridge, but the fact that my tummy starts to churn means I know this is Daniel’s car. The car pulls to a gradual stop and with impeccable timing; it is then that the kitchen porters decide to take their cigarette break.
“Whoa, Bets. Is that sweet ride for you?” Ricky, one of the youngest porters can’t hide the awe in his voice. “Hey Joe!” He yells inside gaining the attention of the remaining chefs and waiting staff, all of whom scramble outside. I close my eyes and curse myself. Why didn’t I just walk? “Looks like Bets, has bagged herself a rich dude!” He laughs, and Joe slaps the back of his head. My shoulders slump, and I return a tight smile.
“No, Ricky, I’m not interested in his money… It’s his fucking enormous cock I’m interested in. Not that you’d know much about that. Now, if you don’t mind my ride is waiting?” I wink at Joe and throw myself arse first in to the back of the car, snapping my knees together as I do to make sure I don’t flash the audience, which is now standing with mouths slightly open.
“Good to know.” Daniel’s deep voice makes me jump; I didn’t see him in the darkened interior.
“Oh God, I’m sorry about that. It’s just the guys, well, it’s what anyone would think anyway, so I thought I’d put them straight. Really I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve just walked to your place. It’s not like it’s far.” I start to mumble, and I can feel my face heat.
“But I wanted to collect you.” He is quiet for a little while before he adds, “So the only reason you would be with me is because of my money?”
“What? No!” I laugh, but he looks deadly serious. “No, Daniel, you can’t possibly think that. You do have mirrors, don’t you? It’s just we are not exactly on a level playing field, are we? You’re well…” I try to swallow the dryness from my throat. “Daniel, you’re gorgeous. I mean seriously hot as hell, and I wasn’t joking about your cock.” I can’t help bite my lips together. “But you’re seriously wealthy, too, and although I don’t care, no one in their right mind is going to believe me. Just like anyone would think that your interest in me is either as a charity case or purely about sex. Personally, I think it’s about the charity, but then I don’t know anything about you, and that is how it should be. This”--I wiggle my finger between the two of us again--“is off the charts sexy and intense, but it’s just a bit of fun.” I nudge him playfully, with a wide grin spread across my face.
“Bethany.” He reaches for my hand. The familiar spark of heat ignites inside. “I think we need to qualify what constitutes fun, because I think our definitions are poles apart.” I shrug and whisper as I turn to the window.
“Whatever.” I feel the seat dip as he leans over and pulls me on to his lap, one arm curled around my waist, and the other hand holding my chin millimeters from his face. His breath is warm, his eyes dark and serious.
“So I’m a philanthropist, is that right? That is why I want you?” He tucks my hairs behind my ear.
“I have no idea why you want me, and I don’t care; it’s just fun, Daniel.” I’m getting aggravated, and so is he. He grinds his teeth.
“Bethany, you are-” I interrupt, and by the look on his face, I am not sure this happens to him much.
“-Daniel.” I narrow my eyes and repeat slowly, “I. Don’t. Care. It’s. Just. Fun!”
“Dammit, Bethany! You think this is fun, feeling like this is normal?” His voice is a loud rumble and his jaw ticks.
“I have no idea what normal is, and, yes, it is fun.” My voice wobbles, “It has to be.” I blink back the tears I can feel rising, but I have to close my eyes tight to hold them back. I try to move from his lap, but he strengthens his hold, waiting for me to open my eyes again. I don’t understand why he is pushing this, but he has the same intensity in his eyes when I open mine. “Look, Daniel.” I don’t know how to explain this; I’ve never had to explain this. “It’s one of ‘my things’. Another one of ‘my things’, which you can also deduce, is my way of surviving.” I push with more strength and manage to sit back on the car seat. I have trouble thinking when his body generates such turmoil in mine. “Although, this one actually takes care of two of ‘my things’. First, everyone leaves. Second, everything is temporary. So it’s never going to be anything else, and if that doesn’t work for you, that’s fine, too! We can stop the car and end it here.” I lift my chin to punctuate my determination at this point.
“God, you’re infuriating!” His tone filled with fury. “How can you deny this? How can you pretend to be so indifferent? I fucking know you’re not indifferent. I can feel you, Bethany, every pulse, every increase in your heartbeat. I feel you respond to me, react to me, need me.” He has closed the distance again, and the heat between us is stifling. I can’t think, “Why don’t you trust this? Why don’t you trust me? Why can’t you be honest with yourself?”
“Daniel,” I say softly. “I do trust you, I just don’t trust myself. And honestly? For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do, and I’m scared shitless.” I let out a nervous laugh, which actually lightens this intense mood. He covers my mouth with his soft full lips, sucking in my bottom lips and grazing it over his teeth. He presses into me and dips his tongue, inviting mine to join his sensual dance. He tastes divine, sweet mint and erotica. I grab at the lapels of his jacket, tightly fisting the material. I need to feel his weight on me. I need the release I know he can give me. He builds this desire so easily, so quickly, it makes my head spin. I groan my response as he pulls back. His eyes are warm pools of desire and lust, matching my thoughts precisely.
“You know that’s fucked up, right? You’re an intelligent woman, and you have to know that’s fucked up?” He laughs, and I stiffen a little as he dismisses my insecurities with his cocky smile. “Don’t get all defensive, I understand. Well, I mostly understand, but we can work with that. I have a plan.” His wicked smile is infectious and he screws a firm kiss into my hair and exits the car, which has been parked a while.