Your Red Always (7 page)

Not one single kiss. Is he some religious nut who wants to marry me first? I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that.

Sara waits by the door. “Miss Lovell, would you follow me please… Mr Knight is waiting for you.” I blow out, and screw my jacket up into my arms.

I glance in the mirror inside a stainless-steel elevator. Sara watches each green light goes out as we descend in silence. I don’t think she likes women very much. I wonder, if I were to bring Nathan up would she thaw. I decide against it. She scares me slightly, reminds me of a psychopathic bunny boiler.

The doors part into the garage beneath the Shard. He’s there, leaning on the hood of a brand new black and chrome Land Rover, swinging his keys on his forefinger. He’s beaming a sinful sexy grin at me. 

I step out onto the concrete. My legs are heavy, like I’m walking through mud. The elevator doors slide shut on Sara, and now it’s just me and him down here. Alone. He’s ogling me with his intense ray, but at the same time he’s being so distant. Does he not get it? I told him the need is mutual. 

Perhaps it’s me. Jeez. Maybe beneath this unsexed shell, I’m a whore. I don’t want to be loose loving. I’ve never been that way inclined. But he’s changing my ideals. It’s all I can think about when it comes to him. 

He walks to the passenger side. I stare at the fit of his jeans, the perfect taper of his waist, eyeing right up to his agile shoulder-blades. My pulse is rising. Booming. Dropping beats. He opens the door for me. I lower my head and go to step into the car.

“Elizabeth.” His fingers curl around my bicep and I bashfully peer up. “Now you get your kiss.”

With velocity, he draws me into his hips so his crotch is pressing against mine. The excitement bursts in my belly, fizzing up into my throat. I sigh with triumph, as he presses his lips on mine, aggressively. I place my hands against his clean shaven soft face as his fingers run up my spine, to twine around the side of my neck. Fuck. His scent is driving me nuts.

I breathe into his mouth. A pure pent up, I want you now, breath. His supple cool lips fiercely make a move down, thrusting the base of my neckline back. And now, his fingers fumble through my locks as I find myself pulling his hair. His mouth travels hungrily, back up to my cheek as I claw at his toned neck. Holy shit. This kiss is ethereal.

I want you right now Mr Knight. Just push me into that seat or over the bonnet. I now don’t care if I’m loose loving. 

He nuzzles my nose, his dilated pupils piercing through mine. He pulls away from me and I bite my lip, hard.

“We don’t do biting, Elizabeth.”

Why the hell not? Okay, maybe biting is a bit aggressive
. But Mr Knight, I’m biting myself because you won’t give me what I want
. I feel like throwing a tantrum. Stomping my feet until I get my way. This is terrible. I have no restraint around him at all.

“I’m going to take you home now, Elizabeth.” He holds my cheek briefly as I purr like a wild cat. “Sara will pick you up at six pm, and take you to McQueen’s.”

McQueen’s. Did he just say McQueen’s? The shop I can’t even afford to glance in the window McQueen’s.

“You will have a selection of dresses to choose from that I see as suitable?” He adjusts his jeans to accommodate the bulge he should be using on me.

Okay. He’s telling me; well buying me something to wear, that he sees as suitable. That kiss has clearly affected my ability to think straight, because that’s just a tad weird. I swoon and exhale.

“You need to be presentable.” He glances down at Cate’s dress.

Liz, wake up! You’re being gullible.

I cough. “For what?” I struggle to say even that. “I have clothes.”

He smiles, and inclines his head. “I would like you to meet some of my very close friends.”
Oh my
. “I’ve arrange for some of my colleagues to come for drinks this evening, and would like you to accompany me.”

“So, it’s just business?” I don’t like all this formalness.

“It won’t take long.” His fingers knead my bicep then release. “Then I’m all yours.” Well that sounds much more appealing.

I slip down into the cream leather interior of the extravagant muscle car, pulling over the belt. I watch as he moves to the driver’s side. I touch my lips for a second as he gets in, and buckles up. I’m still sensing how wet that kiss has made me. 

He flicks a switch on the dash, and a tint appears across the top of the windscreen. He accelerates up the ramp to emerge out onto the street. He presses a paddle on the steering wheel, so music sounds through the speakers. I find myself completely mesmerised by him doing these very simple tasks.

He catches me staring. “Do you like this?”

“Sorry?” I hum.

“The music?”

“Oh.” I sigh. 

Listen to the music Liz. You can’t be a doughy eyed mush around him forever. Hold an adult discussion will you.

“Good group. Maybe I’ll take you to see them.” He checks the way is clear, and turns left at the junction.

I actually love the group. I have them on my IPod, and listen to them on my way to work.

“Yeah, one of my faves at the moment,” I reply. “But it changes a lot… not that I’ll stop liking them, just…”
Control totally gone Liz.

“I understand. Moods change; new comes along.”

All I can do is hum to agree. Talking is now off the agenda. Timeout is what I need. The brain cells that have shrivelled away due to that kiss, need recharging.

We pull up outside my apartment building. He angles his head to look up at the grey clad tower block. It’s not what he’s accustom to, but its home to me.

“It’s quaint,” he says.

“Yes… quite mediocre in comparison to yours.”

“Until tonight then.” 

Is he not going to kiss me again; not even a peck on the cheek? I discreetly sulk, and turn to the door. He grabs my hand and I keenly look to him. He leans over the handbrake and delicately lays his lips on my knuckles. He angles back with a hot devious grin.

“Tonight,” he emphasises.

Cate stands there wearing her purple dressing gown, waiting as I stroll on air down the beige corridor. This fantastic high I’m on begins to diminish, knowing I’m in for an unwanted lecture. She leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed. My eyes drop, looking at the brown carpet beneath my feet to avoid her peeved protective view on me. I wait for her to move out of my way, but she refuses to budge.

“What!” I push by her, and march into the kitchen.

She growls, slamming the door. “What… what,” she squeals.

I pull a carton of fresh orange from the fridge, and pour myself a glass.

“Did he hurt you… what the hell happened?” She taps her foot impatiently.

I take a sip, looking over the glass. “Nope.” I suck the tangy orange flavour from my lips, trying not to give a thing away.

“Oh shit, you slept with him didn’t you?”

“No!”

“Well something happened.” She moves, brushing her hand over the edge of the worktop to get closer to me. “He called me at four this morning.” Her tone strains high. “Tells me you’re in safe hands all creepy like… I thought, yeah, safe hands my ass.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not… you’ve been brainwashed or something.” She prods my arm. “Look, you’re all mushy and warm.” I laugh at her. “It’s not funny Liz… it’s all good going out and having a drink, but Nathan told me you passed-out. He’s so mad with you.”

I grumble under my breath. Mad with me. He was the one too busy snogging Sara’s face off to notice where, or who I was with.

“Well, he has no right to be,” I snap. “Look, I had a really bad day yesterday. Mr Knight was a gentleman. I admit, I was a total wreck, and I’ll never let myself get like that again. So just leave it now.”

Suddenly, she grabs and squeezes my shoulders. “I’ve told you about looking after yourself,” she Mothers me. “Bet you didn’t even take your pepper spray did you?”

She brought me home a small can of pepper spray, after she attended mandatory self-defence classes at work. She has actually used it. We were dancing in Monroe’s nightclub, when some guy grabbed her butt. It must have been that time of month for her, because she lost it. Was having none of it. She sprayed the poor guy in his face, nearly blinding him. 

I pull away from her and finish my juice; in need of the vitamin C.

“So, he’s a gentlemen eh?” She hums. “Where did he take you then?”

This is what she does. Dig and dig, until she’s satisfied with the information. I prepare my ears for the shrill. 

“The Shard,” I quietly say.

Her eyelids expand. “The Shard.” And there’s the shrill.

“The sixty-third floor… Penthouse suite,” I smile.

“Oh my god Liz… you more than like him don’t you?” There’s no hiding it from her.

“I’m seeing him tonight, so you’ve had plenty of notice if I’m not home by midnight, fairy godmother,” I joke.

“Liz, take it from a seasoned pro. Just because he’s rich, and hasn’t took advantage, it doesn’t mean he’s perfect,” she counsels. “Be prepared for it, that’s all I’m saying. He swims in a bigger bowl than us.” She squeezes my cheeks, then heads towards her room. “You’re too good for him. He’ll take what he wants, that’s what guys like him do.” Her lips purse. “And when he’s done with you, he’ll toss you out.” She goes into her room.

“Yeah, thanks for that Cate!”

“Don’t mention it,” she yells. “Oh, and call Nathan.”

“Not a chance,” I mumble under my breath.

I take my pink razorblade out of the cabinet, whilst waiting for the bath to fill. I know I’ve already had a shower at the Shard, but I don’t want to put Mr Knight off with prickly legs now do I. My body has to be clean and smooth, ready for his hands to devour. 

I close the door and glance at my reflection in thought. Maybe I’m not good enough for him. Or maybe Cate is right. He clearly thinks my dress sense is unfitting. He’s picked me out some fancy togs at McQueen’s. 

I slip down into the hot water and sigh, trying to relax. It wasn’t a normal kiss. It was otherworldly. I’ve had a taste of him, and don’t think I could possibly ever go without more. He has made too much effort for this to be some future one night stand thing. Cate has been hurt in the past. That’s why she is thick skinned, and always on guard. Besides, would a one night stand be so bad with Mr Knight? I think not.

I’m clean, sweet smelling, and my hair is knot free. I have a little concealer and blusher on my cheeks, along with a tiny sliver of eyeliner on my bottom lids. I opt for a light lip-gloss, because I think Mr Knight prefers the more natural look. Underwear: lilac and cream lace briefs with matching bra. I doubt very much that Mr Knight would have picked out my under garments for the evening. So I will take my black bra in my bag, and swap accordingly with whatever outfit I wear.

My phone vibrates beside my lamp. It’s five-thirty. It could be Mr Knight checking on my status. With zest, I excitedly glance at the screen. Crap. It’s Nathan. I screw my eyes up tight and grunt as it continues to ring. He won’t give up; not until he’s had his say, and I need this line open for calls. I blow out and stab the screen. 

“Hello Nathan,” I grumble.

“Oh, hello Liz,” he says in a condescending tone. “Nice to hear from you, seeing as you couldn’t let me know you’re safe… I had to hear it third party.”

I take an angry breath. “Yes Nathan, is that all?”

“No it’s not,” he yaps, making me move the phone from my ear. “Why didn’t you call me this morning?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must be mistaken, because I thought slutty Sara explained everything to you,” I sarcastically say. “Forgive me for not telling you about everything and everyone I’m doing.”

“I fuckin knew it. So you and Mr Prick had fun then!”

“Yes we did.” I wish I could punch him right through this phone. “And I’ll be sure to give Sara your regards when I see him tonight.” I go to press red and hear him yelling.

I push end call as I pace my room. I’m so pissed-off with him. He still thinks he has a hold over me, just because I’ve not been with anyone other than him. Does he actually think I’m waiting for him to screw every girl in the city?
Oh, good old Liz, she’ll be there when I’m done, a good little house wife
. God, he’s such a sexist, arrogant, asshole.

My phone vibrates in my hand. In blind fury, I stab the screen.  “Fuckoff Nathan!” 

“Miss Lovell.” 

Oh god-oh god-oh god
. I keel over. It’s Mr Knight. I puff out, shake my head, and slowly bring my phone up, cringing like I’ve never cringed before.

I cough. “Mr Knight.”

“Elizabeth, Sara is waiting for you downstairs.” He hangs up without another word.

I squeeze my hand into a fist and growl, tempted to throw my phone through the window. I bet no one has ever told him to F-off before.
Real smooth work there Liz.

I dash down the lobby stairs. Sara is parked outside in the Land Rover. I opt to jump into the back. She doesn’t even look at me. She indicates and steers out behind a truck. I swap my view from window to driver’s seat, warily. She’s wearing her black waitress uniform for The Mill.

“You working tonight Sara?”  She glares at me through the rear-view mirror. “At the Mill.”

I just had to continue didn’t I? She obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.

“As you can see,” she replies, sharp.

“So, you and Nathan, how’s that working out for you?”

In his mood on the phone, not very well I’m guessing.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Let’s cut out the awkward talk.” She swerves left, and pulls up to the curb, flicking on the hazard lights. “I’ve worked for Mr Knight for a long time.” She scowls over the headrest. “Girls like you throw themselves at him all the time… but for some reason he thinks you’re different.”

She hates me. She’s making me feel like I’m only after one thing. His money.

“Until you can be trusted, don’t presume you and I will be friends.” She turns to the front, and pulls back out onto the road.

I sink into the seat, sloping out of her eye-line.

We arrive at McQueen’s. There is not one single customer in the shop. Sara goes through the door first. Whereas I plod my way in, scared I might be accused of shoplifting, or be arrested by the fashion police because I’m wearing Primark jeans, and cheap pumps.

She strides in her smaller than usual heels, I’d say four inch, to the clear lit counter. A man, very smartly dressed in a black suit, with red tartan cuffs, and curly black hair, grins politely.

“Mr Knight has a dressing room reserved,” she says.

“Follow me.” The man come out from behind the counter.

I stay at the back, walking shyly down the thick cream carpet of a bright white hallway. The man opens a silver studded door at the very end. Sara enters, and I freeze up. The man goes to pass me on his way back into the shop, then stops.

“Go on then sweetie… we all have to start somewhere.” He smiles, obviously referring to my first lesson in what not to wear.

I apprehensively enter the room. I’m used to the tiny dressing rooms. The ones in which you have to fight with a curtain, so all and sundry don’t witness you hopping around madly in your jeans. This room is big. Bigger than my bedroom. There’s a classy peac
h
chaise longue chair, and an oval frosted glass table. Against the far wall, there’s a three way mirror that goes from floor to ceiling, so you can see all angles. It also has the same thick cream carpet throughout, that feels squishy under my feet.

Sara sits on th
e
chaise longue, and crosses her legs dramatically. This is clearly tedious for her; having to babysit me.

“Go choose a dress then.” She nods her head toward a rail full of outfits.

This is so difficult and strange. I don’t want to choose a dress. I’m not interested in Mr Knight’s money, and that’s exactly how this appears. I have my own mind, and I’ve made a huge mistake going along with this. No wonder Sara thinks I’m some money grabbing slut. I’ve lost self-dignity. Just tossed it aside, all because of that kiss. It has knock me for six, and messed with my common-sense. I should have refused. He can take me the way I am. I shall not be purchased.

Sara exhales impatiently, looking over the gold gilded edge of the chair. “We have thirty minutes… Mr Knight does not like tardiness.”

Liz, as Nathan would say, man up and tell her. 

“I’m sorry you’ve had to drag me here.” I inhale for the next part. “But I’m not going to pick one of those dresses.”

She pouts, turning swift in her seat. “Mr Knight specified that this is a must to you did he not?”

I gulp, watching her twitch, like she’s about to leap up and claw my eyes out. 

“Here’s how I see it. You don’t like me because you think this is about his money. Maybe he does too. Feels he has to do this,” I explain quickly before my bravery fades. “But really, it isn’t necessary.”

She dips her head, grumbles, and gets up. I take a step back, fearful of what her next move will be. She storms across to the clothes rail, and starts to aggressively slide the dresses apart, uttering to herself.

“I’m all for women’s liberation,” she huffs. “But you go dressed like that, or in some cheap body-con dress, made out of shit fabric by some poor kids in Pakistan. Then you’re out of your mind,” she flusters, pulling out a black and white dress. “Here, try this on… it’s you all over.” She swings the hanger on her finger.

It a nice dress. Not over the top. Black, thigh-length, with white panels over each hip. But no, I will not sell myself short.

“No… If Mr Knight wants me there, he shouldn’t care how I look.” 

I boldly, and probably regrettably, troop down the hall, smiling at the pleasant man on my way out. If I’ve blown it, then so be it. Maybe it will prove what sort of man he is anyhow, I tell myself.