Survival (Twisted Book 1) (12 page)

Deep meaningful conversation, not a fan.
Sweet pillow talk, almost a fan. Churros…huge fan.

November 29
th
, 2009.

I loved our Sundays together. When we weren’t in our offices finalising things for Monday, we spent the day in town. It was small and quaint on the outskirts of the city. Wide open spaces, fields of wildflowers, and a trickling stream that ran through the middle of the town, from the old church to the old windmill, made it feel like a world away from the hustle and bustle of the city. A tranquil little spot in the centre of madness. It was our tranquil little spot. I loved being a part of it and had since it became our home a year ago.

We often walked the aisles of the Sunday market. Thomas had a thing for the cheeses and I loved perusing the stalls for fresh eggs and bread. It had snowed in the night and we walked glove-in-glove, wrapped up so only our faces were showing. It had only snowed a couple of inches but, like the stereotypical Brits we were, we had no idea how to react to the alien white fluff besides to wrap up like we were on an arctic voyage and moan about how cold we were.

“I've been thinking.”

Thomas pulled me off to the stall selling sweets and looked at the treats on offer.

“Did it hurt?”

“Funny,” he looked at me with the puppy eyes I fell for and pouted. He was a terrible actor. “Anyway, I thought we could get a tree this year. A real one, so the house smells like Christmas.”

I said the only thing I could think of that wasn’t a strangled cry of pain, “What does Christmas smell like?”

“You never had a real tree?” We left candy-free. He knew he’d touched on something I didn’t talk about. I couldn’t. I didn’t even think of those days. Pre-2003. A time that felt so long ago and a world away from the life I now lived. I was back at the crossroads…only this time the decision wasn’t easy.

I took a deep breath.

“We had trees. They were just artificial ones with fibre optic lights.”

“You had baubles though, right?”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, we had baubles. And an angel on the top. I had a normal family life until I was eighteen.”

“It’s okay,” we stopped at another food stall. I concentrated on the sweet smell of chestnuts and caramel to distract me from the anxiety that crept in. “You don’t have to talk about it. It was just an idea.”

I stared into oblivion as Thomas mulled over what the stall was selling. He knew I needed a minute. I wanted Christmas with Thomas, and I wanted to do it our way. The present way, not the past way.

“I don’t like chestnuts,” I said as Thomas opened his mouth to order some. I turned to the woman running the stall. “He’ll have the chestnuts. I’ll have a
churro with Nutella, please.”

“Mmm…Nutella and you?”
Thomas wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered in my ear. “Don’t lick your lips.”

“Cinnamon,” I took a bite and offered him my mouth. He kissed me quickly and licked the sugar and cinnamon off his lips. “Cinnamon smells like Christmas.”

I remembered making cinnamon biscuits with Grandma before she died. Oliver – I covered my heart with my hand – and I fought over what shape to cut them; he said they all had to be the same shape so they didn’t look messy on the tree. I should have let him pick the star, but I argued until he gave in and we cut them into hearts.

We paid the woman and I tucked my hand in Thomas’ back pocket; he squashed me to him so he could hold me and eat his chestnuts.

“No tinsel, okay? We’ll get a tree but I don’t like tinsel, and no moaning because I can't stand the needles on the floor.”

“Deal,” He kissed the top of my head and I took another bite of my
churro. “You’re the boss.”

“You know it,” I bumped my hip into him as we continued browsing the stalls.

I wanted to celebrate Christmas with Thomas. He was the only person I could be free with…besides – no. Thomas was my freedom. My magic. I couldn’t go through life miserable and I wouldn’t bring Thomas down. His excitement was contagious. I knew why, but it was something else I couldn’t allow to cross my mind.

“Here,” Thomas handed me a glass of brandy and a slice of the olive bread we bought at the market.

I thanked him and he set my legs over his as he sat down and pulled out a folder. We liked to turn the TV off and relax in the evening, just the two of us like it had always been.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“Background on some fighters.
There’s a title conference coming up and we’re covering the match. I thought I’d do some research on them.”

“Who are they?”

“A guy called Cyclone and Andy Mallone.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Why would you have?” He squeezed my leg and continued reading.

“Yeah, right.”
I looked down at my diary and tried to ignore the nauseating nostalgia that made my skin prickle.

“Thomas?”

I knew dropping my voice and massaging the inside of his thigh with my toes would grab his attention. It did. I parted my legs, inviting him closer and he took the opportunity, moving between them and dragging my nightdress up.

It wa
s time to forget.

I could do it, I knew I could. I finally believed that I had the gumption to win this battle. I was going to be a champion.
November 30
th
, 2009.

“Skye!”

I jumped when Nina yelled my name from her office; I shot out of my chair and smoothed my dress down as I scurried along the short hallway. I checked my nail polish and touched my hair to feel for grease. I thought I was fine.

“Yes, Nina?” I asked stepping into her office and seeing a stressed Nina pacing the floor. She marched so furiously I was sure she’d leave tracks in the carpet.
“Everything okay?”

“No.”

She continued pacing, continuously smoothing down her suit jacket, but there wasn’t a crease in sight.

I stood with my hands behind my back and waited. Eventually she stepped behind her desk, sighed and sagged in her chair.

“Can you go and get me a coffee?” She mumbled, tossing her glasses onto her keyboard and pinching the bridge of her nose. “And bring your diary back with you.”

I nodded and rushed out of the office.

“You okay?” Amanda asked when I fell into the coffee room and began putting together Nina’s order.

“Something’s up with Nina. I think I’ve done something wrong.”

Amanda winced; we’d seen people after they’d felt her wrath. Most of them left in tears or as white as a ghost.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, tell me that when I'm out on my ass.”

“Good luck.”

She gave my shoulder a squeeze as I turned to leave. I struggled to walk fast enough back to my desk without spilling the coffee. I grabbed my diary and as I hurried back to her office, I prayed she wouldn’t mind the multiple sticky notes that hung from the pages. Her PA, Erika, had been adding to my to-do list for weeks. Maybe I’d forgotten to do something she’d asked. I shoved it under my arm and opened the door. Nina was massaging the back of her neck and staring at her computer screen when I placed her coffee in front of her and sat down.

“Have you booked flights before?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Meeting rooms?
Meetings with clients? Have you spoken with our advertisers? Photographers? Printers?”

“I have before, yes.”

She held out her hand for my diary as she inspected her cappuccino and I handed it to her. She flicked through the pages, reading my notes.

“You look organised.”

“I am.”

When I first got promoted to office manager, Thomas gave me some pointers on prioritising and organising, so I was confident.

“Right,” she slammed the diary on the desk and I watched the post-its hang on for dear life. “Here’s the deal.” She chose that moment to take a sip of coffee. “Erika is leaving. Her boyfriend is relocating to Leeds and she’s going with him. You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Ah, yes. Thomas Radley,” she purred and swooned in her seat. “That’s fine.”

Would it not have been fine if it was someone other than Thomas?

“What do you need?” I asked, preparing to step up.

“A PA…I want you.”

I didn’t see that coming. Through her stress, Nina smiled at my shock.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Erika can take over the office until she leaves and Penelope will find a replacement. I want you working with me.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“Go,” she waved me away and turned back to her screen. “Erika will be back shortly and you can swap schedules. She’s messy, so you’ll have to get a new diary and sort it out. I've got printers running late, next week’s cover still not decided and a load of article proofs for you to filter through.”

I got up shakily from the chair and headed back to my desk. I was Nina
Bertolli’s personal assistant. Ring the bell…another round to Skye the Skillet.

“Thomas?”

I dropped my bag on the floor and followed the pheromone trail that told me Thomas was already home. I found him in the kitchen, rummaging in the drawer.

“It’s on the sideboard,” I said knowing he was looking for the corkscrew.

He turned and smiled at me like he always did – a smile that made my heart beat a little faster.

“Hi, beautiful,” he strode towards me and wrapped me in his strong arms. “How was your day?”

“Perfect, actually,” I tiptoed and kissed him quickly. “Will you open the wine while I go and shower? I have some news.”

“Good news?” He gave me a once-over but seemed satisfied when I nodded confidently.

“Great news,” I kissed him again. I just couldn’t get enough. “I won't be long.”

We sat on the floor by the coffee table sipping our wine after dinner.

“Will you tell me now?”

Thomas had asked all through dinner for the news, but I made him wait. It was still sinking in. It was exactly what I wanted; to be at the top of my profession.

“Mm hm,” I took another steadying mouthful of wine. “I got promoted.”

“You did?” he didn’t seem surprised.

“I did. I am now, well, as of Monday, Nina’s PA.”

He lunged at me, encasing me in a celebratory hug that sent us back onto the floor. He hooked his leg over both of mine and shifted so he was straddling me. He took my face tenderly in his hands.

“That’s my girl,” he leaned down and kissed me; slowly, sensually, reverently. “I knew you could do it.”

“I’m really excited about it. I didn’t see it coming.”

“I did,” he sat back and grinned down at me. “It’ll be tough. I know how hard I work Trisha and I’m a kitten compared to Nina. But you deserve this. I’m proud of you.”

I sat up to rest on my forearms as he leaned down and we were nose to nose.

“Thank you.”

“Oliver would be proud of you.”

We both looked down as Thomas’ fingers found my palms and our hands danced together. His hands were warm, always warm, like his heart, and they felt soft against mine as if we were both embracing the magic Oliver had blessed us with. I had no doubt that he brought Thomas and I together. He protected me when I was fragile and now that I was stronger, he was cheering me on. He showed me every day that I was worth something, that everything that had happened hadn’t been in vain.

“I love you,” I whispered, looking from our entwined hands as they twirled and caressed, to his eyes that sparkled with the pride and love he professed.

“I love you, too,” he said. “And guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m taking you shopping this weekend.”

“
You’re
taking
me
shopping?”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk, “Yes. Is there a problem with that? My beautiful PA should have a new closet full of clothes to start her new job on Monday.”

“Dresses?” He nodded. “Underwear?” He nodded, licking his lips and glancing quickly at my chest. “Heels?”

“Definitely heels,” he ran his hands down my legs to my feet and lifted them to lock my ankles on his back. “I’m picking out the heels.”

My pulse quickened; I felt it thumping in my neck. I loved it when we had sex with me wearing nothing but a pair of heels. Thomas knew how to make me feel like a woman; safe, desired and loved.

“Deal.”

“Deal. I’ll just need an extra-large coffee before we begin the ordeal.”

I rolled my eyes but before I could think of something smart to say, he lowered his hand and blew a raspberry on my neck. My arms and legs flailed and I shrieked and shrilled as I tried to shove him off me, but eventually, I succumbed to the willpower of the man on top of me and let him have the unrestrained giggled he was the looking for. My laugh was one that sounded like a besotted princess enjoying her beloved prince. I was that besotted princess, totally devoted to my beloved prince.