The Kiss
Authors: Emma Shortt
Evernight Publishing
Copyright© 2011 Emma
Shortt
ISBN:
978-1-926950-50-1
Cover Artist: LF Designs
Editor: Caitlin Ray
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced
electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of
brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Richard and to Ruth.
For all the kisses you had, and all the kisses you
will, someday, have again.
THE KISS
Emma
Shortt
Copyright
© 2011
Chapter
One
“You realize the contract is for four months?”
Eva Diakou, unemployed artist and self-proclaimed cupcake addict,
took a deep breath and nodded in what, she hoped, was a calm and professional
manner. “Yes, I read all the recruitment literature.”
“And you understand during those four months you will be expected
to stay within the Estate? No holidays? No weekends off? Once you start with us
you will not finish until the four months are over. You’ll be paid only at the
end of the contract and if you leave before then you get nothing.”
Again Eva nodded. The recruitment pack had made it all perfectly
clear, as had the frighteningly well-groomed woman in front of her, for the
past half hour.
Four months cut off from the real world
. Eva sighed
inwardly. It didn’t seem such a bad thing at the moment, especially not
considering the pay on offer. “Yes I understand and that won’t be a problem.”
The woman, who hadn’t bothered to introduce herself, seemed
determined to drive her point home. “There will be no telephones, no internet,
no contact with the outside world at all. Literally it will be like you’ve
disappeared from the face of the earth... for four whole months.”
Ignoring, with difficulty, the fact that her entire social life—if
you could even call it that—revolved around the internet Eva forced a smile. “Yes,
the recruitment pack explained all that as well. It’s not a problem I assure
you.”
The interviewer pursed her lips and gave Eva a
long
considering look, Eva tried to seem cool and collected but it wasn’t easy. Nervous
and worried, beginning to sweat slightly, and pretty sure the ladder in her
tights—her last pair—was snaking down to her knee, Eva superstitiously rubbed
moist hands over her skirt and twitched it down. She needed this job, despite
the fact it was temporary, like
really
needed it, and couldn’t afford to
blow this interview.
“You’ll forgive me for saying so but you don’t look as though
you’d be up for any really physical labor.”
It took a moment for her words to register, but once they did a
blush traveled warp speed over Eva’s body and she felt her jaw drop. She
clenched and unclenched her fists around the hem of her skirt, wondering as she
did so, how on earth she was supposed to reply to that.
Bring it on bitch?
Nope, unlikely to cut it.
“It’s demanding work, you need to be fairly fit,” she continued.
Eva barely contained herself from saying something, anything,
insulting back.
What a bitch.
Bad enough that she hadn’t even thought it
necessary to give the simple courtesy of her name, probably knowing Eva was far
too nervous to ask for it, but to suggest…
Unless she did tell you and you
forgot? Well, fuck, you can’t ask now!
Feeling horribly hot and flustered, and depressingly aware of her
tight suit Eva smiled through gritted teeth.
Forget the name.
Don’t
blow this, you need the money, think of the money
. “I’m up to the job I
assure you.”
“I’m not trying to be rude,” the woman continued. “But there’s
little point in hiring you if you’re not comfortable with the level of work.”
Eva held her smile in place, just about. Damn it she knew she was
out of shape, was patently aware of the bloody fact and didn’t need to be
reminded of it! Especially when compared to her interviewer.
She certainly
looks like she spends her entire freaking life in the gym. Say walnuts for an
ass?
Of course Eva didn’t say any of the retorts she desperately
wanted to say. She needed this job, was willing to hold her temper, take the
insults and reassure as much as she could.
The things I do for rent money
.
“I’m a very hard worker.”
Walnut ass gave a skeptical look and Eva could do nothing but
bite the inside of her cheek and tweak her skirt down a little more. Part of
her couldn’t quite believe that she was being grilled over her size. Surely
there was some sort of discrimination law or something around that? And it
wasn’t like she was fat, curvy yes, but hardly in heavy weight category. Jobless
for the past six months and living on her savings meant that she’d had to
change her eating habits, something that had been damn difficult
.
No
more expensive fruit or cuts of meat, it was cheap meals all the way.
And comfort eating much?
Yes, bored and a little depressed
Eva had turned to the chocolate. She’d added two dress sizes and knew that she
looked slightly curvier than the accepted norm, but then Eva was not a girl
built to be skinny anyway, her olive skin demanded filling with curves—she just
had slightly more than usual right now. The recruitment pack had mentioned ‘in
house gym’
and Eva was determined over the next four months, if she got
the job, to make good use of it.
“I didn’t mean to imply—” she continued and Eva plastered another
smile to her face.
“Of course not.”
Think of the money, think of the money
.
Shaking her head slowly the woman looked down at her papers. “It
is
a physically demanding job, waitress service, bar work and… other duties. You’ll
be expected to do a bit of everything, and you should know here and now that I
don’t take people on who won’t last the distance. I’m sorry.”
Despite the mega-bitch attitude she did sound sorry and Eva
thought she saw a hint of sympathy in her eyes. That could only mean one thing.
Shit
. She felt the job slipping through her grasp and the familiar I-have-no-money-and-might-end-up-on-the-streets
worry take hold. Leaning forward in her chair Eva decided to throw caution to
the winds.
“Look I’m up to the work, I promise you. I’ll do all the hours
you can give me, all the overtime you have. I’ll work hard. I’ll work harder
than anyone else you take on. You’ve seen my resume, I have experience in all
the areas you need. Before I got my job in the studio,” she paused and
shrugged, “well after too if I’m honest, art doesn’t pay a lot, I worked in
pretty much every bar and restaurant around.”
The woman frowned. “There’s nothing worse than taking someone on
and finding out a few days in that they’re not right for the work.” She said
the word ‘right’ like it was a contagious virus. “I don’t like losing them
before the end of the contract. It makes my life too difficult.”
Eva leant forward a little more.
Any further and I’ll be
practically on her lap
. “I need this job, really need it. I’m down to the
last of my savings and have no other options. I promise I won’t let you down.”
It stung a bit to be so honest, especially to someone who had
passed the boundaries of rude several sentences back, but Eva was desperate.
She’d lost her job through no fault of her own in the middle of a global recession,
everything had gone to shit including her one opportunity to do the very thing
she loved and be paid for it. Jobs were scarce and those in the art world
practically non existent. Too many people chasing too few opportunities, and
she’d had no luck getting anything. Overqualified, under qualified, not right
for the position
,
she’d heard it all. Four months cut off from the world
in the middle of nowhere was not Eva’s preferred option but it was that or
going cap in hand to the welfare office—something she was not prepared to do.
Her interviewer frowned. “Don’t you have any family, anyone to
help you out?”
“No, there’s no one but me.”
“No boyfriend?”
Is she trying to make me feel worse?
“No.”
She tilted her head. “So no one to notice you’re gone?”
It sounded a bit depressing put like that but Eva couldn’t escape
from the truth. There
wasn’t
any one to notice Eva’s absence for four
months. No mom, no dad, no lover. She’d left all her friends behind when she’d
moved to look for work, Facebook aside she was on her own. “No, no one.”
Pursing her lips again, the steel haired woman said nothing for
what seemed like hours, but in reality was only minutes. Eva bit down on her lip
and sent out a silent prayer.
Please, please, please give me this job...
please just a bit of luck for freaking once...
Finally she stood up and opened the filing cabinet next to her
desk. Ignoring the moisture pooling in the small of her back Eva sat up a
little straighter and waited. The woman flicked through a bunch of folders before
pulling one out. The folder was ice white and written on it in bold italics...
a name,
Evangeline Diakou
,
Applicant
.
She turned back to Eva, gave one more assessing look and sighed.
Rifling through the folder, before pulling out a sheaf of stapled papers, she
paused for one more moment before passing them across. Eva took the papers,
ignoring the fact that she’d probably make them damp with her sweaty fingers,
and looked.
It was a contract. Her heart skipped a few beats and she was
ready to fall over herself with thanks.
Thank God
. Sweet relief flooded
her, at last a job, a chance.
A freaking paycheck.
Eva looked up and the words tumbled from her lips. “Thank you...
really I mean thank you so much. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
The woman placed her hands on her hips and smiled in a grim kind
of fashion. ‘You start immediately.’
Chapter
Two
December
11
th
1811
Lord Adam Garret, fifth Earl of Winterwood and sole owner of the
Winters Estate, swallowed down his first brandy of the day, ignoring as he did
so, the burn in the back of his throat. No matter how many times he drank the
damn stuff it still caused his throat to protest. He wondered idly if that was
due to his early introduction to the world of strong spirits. He’d been barely
eighteen before he was consuming a good half a bottle a day and hadn’t really
stopped since. Perhaps he’d irreversibly damaged himself? He was slightly
surprised to realize that the thought bothered him.