Freeing Alex (7 page)

Is that all she thinks about?

“We can, but don’t you want to save that until Katie’s with
you?” I suggest.

“I suppose, but I like shopping with you and anyway, apart
from that handbag and a couple of pairs of shoes you’ve not got yourself
anything new since you got your inheritance, not really anyway. For heaven’s
sake, Mum – you’re still wearing Marks & Spencer’s frumpy knickers!” She
raises her voice at me. She’s right, I’ve not done much for myself, apart from
buy a car, a purchase which was essential but the Audi – well, I’m starting to
think that it was a mistake.

I relent, sighing, “Okay, you stay in bed tomorrow and I’ll
call you mid-morning. We can arrange where to meet, maybe have lunch in the
hotel, is that okay?”

“Great, I haven’t eaten there yet.” She yawns.

I hug her on the landing and say goodnight before we both go
off to our rooms.

I lie in my bed, just thinking about the day, the weeks and
months since I heard about Maggie. It’s all so surreal, my mind drifts here and
there and I still can’t quite believe everything. My mobile bleeping interrupts
my thoughts. Reaching for it from my bedside table, I see a text from James.

Thk u so much 4 raise. U don’t no how much it means. J

I tap a quick reply before pulling myself under the duvet.

U r most welcome & tks 4 strawberries. Alex X

He replies almost instantly.

They’re good 4 u!

Umm. I tap a quick reply before attempting sleep.

Well thank u anyway. Going to sleep Alex X

I have a restless night, waking myself up during the early
hours by dreaming about my past. I’m thinking about Lewis and hoping he doesn’t
do anything stupid and just agrees to the terms of the divorce as they are. I’m
thinking about My James (yes, he’s My James now, well, in my dreams anyway),
the
Bossman
, but I know I shouldn’t be. For one, he must be ten years
younger than me, and for two, I’m his employer, but why shouldn’t I think about
him? I ask myself. Oh, the thought of that man makes me quiver – the lean body,
the big dark eyes, the olive skin, his scent and those lips, not to mention
that fine head of hair, how I would love to run my fingers through that…
Alex,
stop it,  he may find you repulsive! I can’t help the attraction, it’s biology!
I think about what I said to him earlier, that I
liked him
– I’m
embarrassed at the thought. Will I be able to look at him again without
flushing? I bet he’s lying there with some young floozy. Well, if I believe the
receptionists, he’s bound to be.

I eventually drift off again to a restless sleep and wake up
to my alarm beeping away. My first thought is of James waking on someone’s
sofa, not good – I need to be a good employer and make sure he’s sorted.

I shower and wash my hair quickly,
blasting it dry. Being dead straight, I never have to worry about it curling
the wrong way, unlike the battles that Anna has in the mornings. I dress
casually in my Levi’s, a gingham shirt and a pair of tan flat pumps. If I’m
shopping with Anna later I’d better be comfortable.

Leaving the house, I grab my bag and head towards my car.
I’ve a love-hate relationship with the Audi. If I was at home – no,
this is
home – if I was in Staffordshire I would have no problem in driving the beast.
It’s not the car, it’s the town, the streets that are the problem, not to
mention the other drivers, they’re all lunatics, and given that I’m not used to
the geography of the place it’s a triple whammy.

Dropping my bag and a document file onto the front seat, I
settle myself behind the wheel and carefully navigate my way to the hotel and
into the car park. Parking in my usual place, I note that there’s a very old
Vauxhall in the General Manager’s space. I hadn’t noticed it before and wonder
if it belongs to James. I lock the car, gather my things and make my way
through the recently completed new corridor. There are one or two people in the
swimming pool, I’m pleased it’s being used.

I pass staff and try my best to acknowledge everyone as I
walk through the foyer and into the Staff Only area. I’m sure that most of the
people I speak to have no idea who I am, but they must have seen me around
before, they’ll get to know me eventually. I walk into James’s office and toss
my bag and the file onto the chair. No James!

I flick the kettle on to make myself a tea. Rooting through
the small fridge, I find milk that looks like it was opened yesterday. I sniff
it – it doesn’t smell off, must be okay. I’ve just added the water to my mug
when Roger walks in.

“Morning, Mrs Drake, can I have a word?” he asks, his Action
Man-like figure filling the doorframe.

“Sure, Roger, what’s up?” I ask brightly. “Tea?” I offer.

“No thanks, just had one. I needed to get a budget for some
temporary security, there’s that big event happening two weeks today, you know,
the one for the Premier League footballers. We’ll need extra staff, expecting
paparazzi. Thomas and I won’t be able to cover it on our own.” He’s very well
spoken, this mountain of a man, I can’t help but wonder what Thomas is like.

“I don’t think there’ll be a problem but you need to speak
with James, he knows what budgets we have in place for this sort of thing. I
also don’t want to tread on his toes. I’m sorry I can’t give you a yes or no
now, but I’m sure it’ll be okay. Look, I’m expecting him any minute, why don’t
you wait?” I know this place is mine and I could agree whatever budget he
wants, but I said at the outset that I wouldn’t tread on any toes and I won’t.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me waiting here?” he asks.

“Of course, why would I mind? Are you sure you don’t want a
cuppa? Why don’t you have a seat?” I nod towards the battered leather chairs in
front of James’s desk.

“I’m fine thank you, and I really have just had a coffee,”
his deep voice rumbles.

He slouches against the wall just inside of the office to
the side of the doorframe. The guy really is massive.

“Did you know Maggie?” I ask, making conversation.

“Yes.” He smiles. “She was great. I thought the world of
your aunt.”

My aunt
, I think. “Everyone says that.” I look down,
stirring my drink. “I didn’t really know her, although I’ve learnt lots, and I
mean
lots
,
since she passed away.”

We’re interrupted from our conversation with the arrival of
James who walks through the open door into his office, straight past Roger, I
don’t think he’s seen him.

“Morning, Alex, you okay?” he asks with that huge smile.

“I’m fine, thank you. Roger’s there.” I point to the
doorway. “He wants to ask you something.”

“Rog. How’s it going?” James turns towards the door, facing
the huge security guy.

Roger repeats himself to James about the additional budget
for the Premier League Footballers bash. The budget is agreed and Roger is left
to contact whoever he usually uses to sort out temporary staff. After he’s gone
I start to make James a drink. I haven’t asked if he wanted one but I make it
anyway.

“I was worried about you last night… staying on a sofa!” I
say quietly as I make his drink: coffee, black, no sugar.

He stands in the middle of his office, hands in pockets.
“Oh!  You shouldn’t have, don’t worry, I was fine. I’ve called a few letting
agents this morning, they’re going to send some details through to me.”

“Good, but the offer’s still there.” I smile. “Seriously, if
ever you get stuck.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure it’ll all be okay – you’ll see!” he
mutters.

Walking around to his side of his desk, he starts flicking
through supplier delivery notes. I turn around and pass him his mug. As he
takes it from me, his hand brushes mine. I freeze. His very touch sends little
exquisite shocks through my whole body, the feeling is divine. I can’t help it.
I place my hand on his and look into his dark eyes, I must just stare at him. I
mentally shake myself. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking down. I turn away back
towards the kitchen unit.

“No,” James says, his voice deep and sensual, “don’t be
sorry, don’t. I feel it too.”

He stands and walks over to me and places his palm on my
back.

“Please don’t be sorry, Alex. It’s all right, it really is.”
He pulls me close into a hug. My head tucks neatly into his shoulder and for a
moment I am overwhelmed. I’m finally free from years and years of neglect, it
feels like reality has just whacked me in the face. Tears prick my eyes and
before I know what’s hit me, I’m sobbing into his shoulders. I don’t know
what’s come over me? Years of pent-up tension and finally the realisation that
I’m free of that bastard, free of the hurt and pain.

“Sssh,” he says softly. “Please don’t cry, please. Alex,
don’t cry, please tell me what’s wrong, you know you can talk to me.” His voice
is so tender, so comforting.

“I’m… I… I just feel l… like the world has been lifted from
my shoulders,” I stammer through the sobs. “I f-f-feel free,” I whimper. I
can’t look at him. I keep my head down, the weight of the world, of the abuse
that I’ve carried around for what feels like forever, seemingly gone.

James rubs my back slowly. What am I doing, letting him get
so close
? Isn’t this what I wanted?
I ask myself. Yes, of course it is.
But what about all the women he
services
?

“It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” His voice is so soothing.

He guides me to
that
leather chair in front of his
desk and sits me down. He kneels in front of me and pulls me close again, still
maintaining that electrifying contact, not letting go. For a split second I
have the feeling that I’m just another conquest, not that he needs them,
apparently they come to him.

He places his gentle fingers under my chin, lifting my face
towards him. “Tell me. Tell me, Alex, what he did to you. What made you feel
like this?” His voice is soft and husky, almost like he’s willing me to tell
him.

I shake my head. “I can’t!”

“Why can’t you, what’s so bad that you can’t tell me? There
really is nothing that shocks me!” He laughs. “Well, not much anyway!”

I bet
, I think, whilst trying my hardest to pull
myself together. “I’m hideous,” I mumble.

He laughs again. “
You
are anything but hideous.
You’ve got an amazing figure, you’re very attractive, you’re kind and caring
and you’ve bucket loads of compassion and I think you’re fabulously wealthy –
why are you hideous?” His tone, questioning, intrigued by my statement.

I pull myself away from James, shaking my head. My face must
look horrendous, all screwed up, mascara running down my cheeks. I reach for my
handbag and pull out a tissue. I try to wipe away the black streaks but without
a mirror I can’t see what I’m doing, I’m probably making it worse.

“Give it to me.” He takes the tissue from my hand and wraps
it around his fingers, gently wiping the smudges from my cheeks. “There, that’s
better,” he whispers. He stays on the floor, kneeling in front of me. Placing
his hands on the top of my arms, his focus remains firm.

“Tell me!” he says slowly, firmly. “Tell. Me,” he says
again, punctuating his words as if to emphasise the demand. I look directly
into the handsome face, the dark eyes willing me to reveal why I feel so, so
desperate about myself. I think for a moment.

“I can’t.” I lower my face, looking at my feet. “I can’t
tell anyone!” Inside I’m wrecked, my stomach knotted, my heart racing. I feel
choked, yet deep down I know it would be a relief for someone to know and James
has
become as good as a friend – more than just a friend, it would
seem, at this moment in time. Although I’ve only known him a few weeks I think
I can trust him.

I whisper, pleading, “Can I trust you? Can I trust you to
never
say anything if I tell you, if I show you?”

“I can’t promise that, it depends on what you say. What I
can promise you is that I will listen.” His voice is soft, yet firm, yet full
of compassion.

I shake my head. “It’s embarrassing. I need to know that you
will never tell anyone,” I mutter.

“Is that the only way you’re going to talk to me about
what’s upsetting you so much, if I promise never to tell anyone?”

“Yes, that
is
the only way!” I look at him through
tear-filled eyes. “It
’
s the only way.”

“Then I promise, unless… unless you tell me that someone is
going to be harmed, then I will have to do something, say something.” He’s
looking at me, his words so firm.

I compose myself, taking a breath or two. “I’m not going to
tell you that anyone is going to be harmed, don’t worry, it’s nothing like
that, but it is shocking and it’s what makes me hideous. Lewis made certain
that no man would ever come near me ever again, that I’ll never have another
man.”

He’s confused, I can see in his beautiful face that he’s
totally confused. He must think I’m some sort of crazy woman.

“Tell me…” he demands quietly.

Our eyes meet, his focus directly on me, nowhere else. “I’ll
show you, I can’t speak the words,” I say flatly, my vision blurred from the
tears.

He frowns, totally confused. Now I know he thinks I’m some
sort of mad-woman.

I can’t believe I’m going to do this, I really can’t.
Alex
Drake, what the hell has come over you?
Yesterday I felt so strong, so
confident, and yet today I’m ready to crumble. The past, although I’m working
on it, has clearly not yet left me.

What am I doing
? I slowly unbutton my shirt. I slip
my left shoulder from the confines of the soft fabric and slide it down the top
of my arm, letting it drop to waist level. James just stays kneeling in front
of me, looking at me, his face looking so soft and compassionate. My M&S
white bra at his eye level, he gasps. “Oh, Alex,” He looks at my breasts before
moving his gaze to me as I sit in that chair, a complete mess, “you’re
beautiful.” I break eye contact with him as I shuffle around in the chair,
bringing my left shoulder into his view. There. Now he can see the repulsive
scarring on my shoulder blade, the outline of the iron clearly visible.

“Fuck!” James spits. “Your husband did this?” he hisses.

I quickly pull my shirt back into place, tears blurring my
vision again. “See, I’m monstrous and I’m useless,” I say, sobbing again.

“Alex, Alex… Oh my love, you’re anything but monstrous and
certainly not useless, look at what you’re doing here.  You’re the most
generous, compassionate, beautiful person anyone could wish to meet.” His voice
is a low growl. “Alex, you’re beautiful.” His tone changes, his voice soft. He
places his hand on my arm, the touch so wanted, I so desperately want to be held,
to be loved.

Reality hits me head on, “Who wants me branded with another
man’s mark?” I snap. “Who… tell me who? Who wants me now? I’m not attractive,
not any more.” I raise my voice, anger getting the better of me.

I stand, pushing him away, shaking with anger, a further
explosion of pent-up rage from the last twenty-two years finally surfacing.
Poor James has the brunt of it. I need to release this anger, need to get it
all out.

“Come here.” He offers me his hand. “Come.” He’s talking
softly to me. I take his hand and he pulls me gently into his arms. He holds me
close, so very close and tight, as I sob and sob.

“Let it all out, Alex. Come on, nobody can hear you in here.
And you are beautiful, Alex, don’t let anyone tell you any differently,
please,” he whispers.

“I’m not, James. Not like those young women who visit you
here, they’re beautiful,” I sob.

He sighs. “It doesn’t happen often, Alex, and not since I
met you. And they’re not beautiful – pretty, maybe, but not beautiful like you.
Beauty is from within, it’s what’s inside. Anything can be pretty.” His voice
becomes a deep growl.

I must cry into his shoulder for what feels like hours,
although I’m sure it’s not. When my sobbing reduces to a mere weep he places a
finger under my chin and lifts my face to look at him, my red, screwed-up,
tear-stained face.

“I’m taking you home,” he announces – a statement, not a
request or a question.

 I feel too weak and drained to protest. I need to sleep,
I’m exhausted. James just holds me.

“Where are your keys? In your bag?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He picks up my bag and fumbles around for the keys. Once he
has them he puts his arm through mine, pulling me up from the chair. Linking
arms, we walk to the fire escape stairs and down to the ground floor. He’s
careful to avoid any of the hotel staff or guests. On the way out we see Roger,
who strides over. “Everything okay?” he asks.