The old gods awaken, p.11
THE PITCH, page 11
“Really? I don’t think it was Brook that made me a brilliant player.”
“Whatever you say, but if you still like her after all these years, you need to do something about it.”
I look at him in shock. Drew, the brother who has vowed never to be caught in the relationship trap, as he calls it, telling me to do something about it!
“You’re right, I do, but I’m not sure what to do. She was adamant this morning and—”
“Wait, you fucked her this morning, and you’re worrying already? Do you not know anything about women? I thought you’d know better by now. She’ll be having all sorts of regrets, but you’ve got to push through, Brother. Look at Braxton. Gee made him work for it. She had him running around in circles, but he got her in the end.”
“Yeah, but I’m not Braxton! I’m Carter, who is far worse with women than he has ever been, and my track record is no secret either.”
“If she slept with you once and you did it right, she’ll come around. You mark my words, if you play this right, she’ll be begging you by the time you get back from New York.”
“That’s if she’ll come with me. I think I fucked it up! I pushed her too quickly.”
“For fuck’s sake, if she didn’t want to bounce around on your cock for breakfast, she wouldn’t have done it. Anyway, I need to go, I’ve got a hot filly waiting for me tonight.”
“Do you mean a horse or a woman?” I ask, never knowing. Drew smiles and then winks.
“Maybe both. Oh, before I forget, I think we should share a plane back home. It makes sense, and Mom has been giving me shit because we always seem to fly separately.”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know my plans. I might go earlier if I get a ban because of today’s fuck up.”
“Okay, I’m fairly flexible, so just send me the flight details.” And with a pat on my shoulder, he walks back out of the bar with every female watching.
My stomach aches as I open my front door. Why did I fuck Brook this morning? It was too soon, but Drew has a point. I didn’t force her; she was a willing participant. It doesn’t make me feel any easier though.
“Ah, Mr. Blackmoore, you’re home early. I thought you’d be celebrating your win until the early hours,” Glenis, my housekeeper, says from the kitchen.
“It’s okay, I’m not in the mood tonight to be celebrating. Did you watch the game?” I ask.
“No, I just looked up the scores on the internet. I wanted to see what type of mood you’d be in.” She laughs as she polishes the wine glasses before putting them back in the cupboard.
“It was a good game,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Why the long face then? I’ve not seen you like this before, especially after a win.”
“I don’t know. I need to make amends with someone, and I don’t really know what to do.”
“Male or female?” she asks.
“Female, if you couldn’t guess.” I let out a long sigh.
“Flowers always help. Even if she chops all the heads off, at least you’ll have had a reaction.”
“Really?” I ask, looking at the woman I’ve known for over five years. “Flowers? And where am I going to get flowers from at this time of night? All the florists will be closed.”
She shakes her head and smiles at me just like my mom would have done.
“When was the last time you went into a supermarket?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. A year or two ago, but I can’t give her a bunch of supermarket flowers.”
“Oh, Mr. Blackmoore, it’s not really what they look like, it’s the gesture, the thought behind them. Are you seeing her tonight?”
“I wasn’t going to, but I think I need to apologise in person. Yeah, I’ll go round tonight and then get some flowers delivered tomorrow.”
“Leave the flowers with me. You go and get yourself spruced up and looking nice. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Hmm, okay,” I say, walking into my bedroom.
Glenis has been my housekeeper for five years. She keeps everything perfect, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. I don’t see her often since she has my schedule and comes in when I’m not here, but from time to time, our paths cross, and we share pleasantries. However, I’ve never had a conversation with her like that before.
As I walk into my bedroom, the crumpled sheets and towels have been removed and changed. There is no sign of Brook ever being in here this morning. More’s the pity. Even any faint scent she’ll have left behind will have been washed away.
I shower, shave, and change into my favourite pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt.
As I come out of the bedroom, Glenis is nowhere to be seen, and then I see a note on the fridge.
Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back soon. Dinner is in the fridge. Heat it up and eat it before I get back.
Since when did Glenis get so bossy? But I do what she says. I heat up the pasta dish that she had prepared and sit at the counter, eating away while I open up my phone and look for the folder Drew was talking about.
I’d forgotten about the photographs I used to snap of her when she wasn’t looking. As I scroll through, I realise most of them are either of her ass or tits. What a fucking creep!
I close the folder and hover over the delete button, but I just can’t do it. Now I know where to find them, at least I can see her even when she’s not around.
I finish the meal and load the dish into the dishwasher as the front door opens, and in walks Glenis with her arms full of flowers.
“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll have this lot looking perfect,” she says, laying down the flowers and opening the packets.
“If you can do that in ten minutes, I’ll give you a pay raise.” I laugh, looking at the mess she’s making.
“Oh, you can be a doubting Thomas if you want to be, but watch and learn, young man.”
Young man . . . Glenis is in her late forties at the most, but her comment makes me smile, and true to her word, ten minutes later, I’m looking at the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen.
“Wow, this is spectacular,” I say, taking them from her.
“I used to have my own florist, until the building was sold, and it was turned into ultra expensive apartments.”
“Oh, and is that when you came to work for me?” I ask. She originally came through an agency, so I didn’t know her background.
“Yeah, it was on Canal Street. It’s called Canal Wharf now. It was the best time of my life.” She smiles, but I can see the sadness in her eyes.
Canal Wharf was one of my first projects, and guilt rips through me like a train.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, ashamed of what I did, although I don’t recall putting anyone out of business.
“Don’t be silly, it’s history. Things happen for a reason. Go and woo the girl. Show her that you’re the upstanding gentleman I know you can be.”
More guilt, oh god. I don’t have time for this conversation, but I’ll make sure I pick it up with her soon. I need to put things right. If I destroyed her dreams, I’ll never live it down.
I stand on Brook’s doorstep for longer than I should, building up the courage to press the doorbell.
When I do, it’s only a few seconds before the door swings open, and Brook is standing there, her hair wrapped in a towel. She’s fresh-faced and as beautiful as ever.
She doesn’t see me until I hand over the bouquet, and she finally looks up at me. My heart is hammering in my chest like it’s fighting to get out, but the smile on her face tells me I did something right at least.
The evening started off well. I ate Chinese with Brook and her housemate Evie, and then when Evie decided to go on a date, Brook insisted that she didn’t go, which made me wonder if it was because she’d be left with me alone.
I needed time with her when she’s not in her professional capacity. I wanted to try to be a good man around her, so I insisted that we all go on the date. Brook and I would follow her a few minutes later and just keep an eye out for her, and if the guy turns out to be a creep, then she could ditch him and join us.
We pull into the car park of The Tanners pub, and Evie gets out. “I’ll see you both later, and maybe I won’t.” She smiles and winks at Brook, who rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“Just be bloody careful. Any red flags, and you ditch him, you hear me?” she says.
“Yes, Mum, I hear you. Now don’t forget, you and Dad are not supposed to know me, okay?” she says sarcastically and then walks away from the car.
Brook is sitting next to me in the passenger seat, and I can tell she’s anxious.
“She’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s her first ever date, is it?”
“Evie? God no, but something about this guy makes me uneasy. I don’t know why, but I just have a feeling.”
“If you have a feeling, that’s good enough for me. Do you think we should go in now?”
“Oh . . . yeah,” she says. I don’t miss her look of slight disappointment, and that springs my plan into place.
The pub is busy but not too busy that I don’t spot Evie straight away. Being six foot four gives me an advantage over most people. She’s sitting with a guy who looks fairly normal—not that I know what a normal guy looks like, but he doesn’t look like a creep.
“Grab a table, and I’ll get us some drinks. What would you like?”
“I’ll have the same as you,” she says, giving me a slow smile.
“A pint of diet Coke? Really?”
“You’re not drinking?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“And how do you think we’ll get home?”
“You’re not having just one?”
“Nope. Now, what do you want to drink?”
“Erm . . . I’ll have a glass of house white please. I’ll be over there.” She points at an empty table as I head to the bar and order the drinks.
Two hours later, we’ve still not spoken about this morning, and although she’s being friendly, I know she’s struggling with it.
I take a deep breath. “So, I understand what you were saying this morning. I don’t agree with it, but—”
“Carter, listen, I’ve been—”
“Let me finish. I get it. You’re worried about your career and your home. I just wanted to say that I accept that we can never be together, okay? Just friends.”
I wait for a reply. Her cheeks flush, and I can tell she’s absorbing what I’ve just said.
Eventually, she lifts her head and looks at me. “Thank you.”
It’s all she says, but I can tell she wants to say more.
“I’m going to New York the week after next, and I’ll be there for a few days, maybe even a week, so I was thinking that you might come with me. I don’t want to break the therapy that we’ll have been working through.”
“New York?”
“Yes, it’s my mom and dad’s wedding anniversary, and they’re throwing a party. I have to go, and I don’t want to ruin any work we’ve done, so if you don’t mind, I’d like you to join me.”
“I don’t have a passport, and don’t you need a visa or something to get into America?”
“We’ve got a few days, and I can pull some strings to get your passport pushed through. Your visa will only take a day or two unless you’ve spent time behind bars.”
“No, no criminal record, but a passport is an expense I can’t really afford. I need to save as much money as I can. I’m sorry, but it’ll have to be a no. I’ll write up a schedule, and we can even do Skype sessions.”
I sense the tension in her body. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” I say, standing up and heading to the bar. “Same again?” I ask, and she nods in reply. I’ll give her a few minutes to think it through. New York is the trip of a lifetime to some people, but to me, it’s going home, and I’m sure Evie will do the persuading for me with a little coaxing.
I order the drinks and look over at Brook. She’s reading something on her phone before she stands quickly and walks over to where Evie is sitting. The guy’s hands are everywhere, and Evie looks like she’s trying to get free.
Oh fuck! I tell the bartender I’ll be two minutes and head over to Evie’s table. Oh shit! Brook has the guy by the front of his shirt, and her face is nearly touching his.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask as I pry Brook from the guy.
“Your bird just stormed over here and grabbed me.”
I look at Brook and then back at the guy.
Brook says, “He was fucking molesting Evie in public. She . . . she—”
“She’s right,” Evie says, standing. “He was getting too handsy, and I texted Brook to come over.”
“Okay, so, Evie, you’ll be joining us for the rest of the night, and you, buddy, can fuck off. Okay?” I say, moving Brook and Evie behind me. The guy is drunk and is obviously pissed off.
“What the fuck? Buddy? Who’s using that word, fucking buddy? You fucking prick, she was asking for it, she wanted it.”
“I don’t think she did, or she wouldn’t have texted for help. Now, leave her the fuck alone,” I say.
“Or what?”
“You’ll be the second guy I put on his ass today.”
“Ha, yeah, you mean that tidy bit of red? She doesn’t count. Although seeing her on her knees would be something— Oh fuck!”
I hear ‘seeing her on her knees’, and my temper explodes. I drag the prick off his seat and throw him onto the floor. “Stay the fuck down. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“What the fuck, man? I was only joking,” the creep says as he backs away from me on the floor.
“No, you’ve been disrespectful to women. You don’t do that!”
“Okay, okay, just leave me the fuck alone.” He stands and heads to the door, turning back once to shout, “Give me a call sometime, Eves!”
I look at Brook and Evie in shock. Did this guy not nearly get his ass whipped? Oh, fuck knows. Today has been a day of many learning experiences, and I think it’s time I went home.
After dropping Brook and Evie off at their house, I arrange for a car to pick up Brook in the morning. She argued, but I won. I check my emails and find what I’m looking for. Munch has sent me through all the details, but the price has suddenly elevated from five million to six. I don’t have the brain space to deal with pricks like him, so I fire the email over to Petra and ask her to deal with it from here on in.
I think of today’s dramas as I lie back on my sofa with a large scotch. Three scuffles if you include Munch, twenty properties bought, or nearly, I learnt that I’d ruined Glenis’s business, had relationship advice from Drew, and fucked the only girl I ever fantasised over and fucked it up spectacularly. To say today has been a shit show is an understatement, and as I sip my scotch, all I can think about is Brook. What’s she doing now? Is she in bed? Is she watching TV with Evie? I don’t understand why it’s important to me. I’ve never been interested in what a woman does when she’s not in my bed, so why Brook, and why now?
Chapter 12
Brook
I slam the door behind me as Evie and I walk into the house.
“Woah, what the fuck? Keep it on its hinges,” Evie says, raising her hands.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to slam it that hard,” I say, lying. I absolutely did, and I don’t really know why.
“What up? If it’s the prick at the pub, I promise I’ve blocked his number already.”
“No, it’s not him or you. It’s me!”
“Oh, that old one . . .” She laughs. “What have you done now to piss yourself off?”
“Hmm, where do I even start? I’d decided after our chat earlier that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little fun with Carter as long as we kept it as fun, and it didn’t interfere with his therapy.”
“Okay, so that’s good. Fuck, Brook, the man is seriously gorgeous, and he’s so into you, it’s borderline disgusting.”
“Ha, well, I was going to broach the subject, but he did first, and he’s agreed to remain friends and professional.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, oh! And he’s asked me to go to New York with him the week after next.”
“That’s good, so he might have a change of heart.”
“No, he doesn’t want to mess up his therapy. I’d be going as his therapist, not as his . . .”
“His what?”
“I don’t know. I’m just kicking myself that I made such a fuss this morning and . . . Oh, Evie, what if I’ve fucked everything up?”
“From where I stand, you are in a really good position.”
“How do you work that out?”
“He’s so into you, but he’s honouring your wishes, and that’s really sweet. But you will be able to torture him so much.” She starts laughing so hard that she has to hold her tummy.
I sit down on the sofa and huff. “This isn’t funny.”
“Believe me, you will be laughing all the way to the bedroom, and the best thing is you only have to do your job.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Listen, this is what you need to do . . .” she says, still laughing and explains the foolproof plan to drive Carter out of his mind and into my pants. Evie’s words, not mine.
The next morning, my alarm sounds, and I jump out of bed livelier than I have done in years. I shower, paying special attention to my lady parts and using all of my favourite shower gels.
I pull on the outfit that Evie and I planned last night and eventually head down to the kitchen for coffee.
I’m startled when I open the kitchen door. Carter is standing there making himself some toast.
“What the hell? How did you get in?”
“I was sat outside, and when Evie left, she told me to go in and make myself at home. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not really. You made me jump, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I cancelled the car. It’s Sunday morning, and I was awake anyway.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, squeezing past him in my tiny, tiny kitchen to get a mug.
I place my hands on his hips and move behind him slowly, and I feel his body stiffen, which brings an involuntary smile to my lips.
