Текст книги "Bad Grace "

Автор книги: Annabel Chant

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

    Thirty Six

Him

The divorce papers arrived on the Saturday.

I admit to being totally blind-sided by them. Monique, one of the hotel receptionists gave them to me, as I was walking through the foyer on the way back from my morning run in Hyde Park. It was another glorious day, but I’d hardly noticed it. It had been a shit week. I’d finally sorted the Rick fiasco, but I was still dwelling on his death and what to do for his family. I had to be circumspect, because he still hadn’t been reported missing and I didn’t want to raise suspicions.

Added to which – and I hardly liked to admit it to myself, but this was the main cause of my low mood – tonight, I had the dubious joy of handing the little angel I’d sworn to protect over to a pack of my best men. And they were good men, there was no doubt about it, but they’d regress to animals, when presented with a prize like her. She was a cut above their usual fare, and then some.

I took the papers up to my apartment and sat on the bed reading them.

It was the end of an era, and not a happy one, at that. It wasn’t Ronnie’s fault. It was mine, if anything. If it hadn’t been such a difficult time for me, I’d probably never have latched onto her or, at least, I’d have thought more about the long-term. Mind you, no one could’ve predicted how she’d change – not even her at that point. It wasn’t her fault though – she couldn’t help who she was, after all.

I went to have a shower and, when I came out, my phone was ringing. It was her. At first, I only stared at the phone, not wanting to make the whole thing real.

‘My love?’ she said, when I finally answered. ‘Tell me you’re not cross.’

‘Not cross, Ronnie.’ I sat down on my bed. ‘More shell-shocked. I suppose I should thank you, to be honest. You know I’ll look after you.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You always have, Nat. I should’ve done this a long time ago. It wasn’t fair of me.’

‘I’ve never blamed you.’ I rubbed at my hair hard with a towel. ‘I could’ve instigated proceedings.’

She laughed. ‘You never would have. Your loyalty knows no bounds.’

It was only very gentle teasing, I knew, because she was only half joking.

‘Tell me one thing, Ronnie.’ I left off drying my hair, as the thought struck me. ‘It doesn’t matter, after all this time, you know that, but is there someone else?’

Her voice, was bright and cheerful but, I could tell, underneath, she was trying not cry. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘I think there might be. She just doesn’t know it yet.’

The phone went dead and I sat there, alone in my bedroom – as usual – wondering what in the hell that was supposed to mean.

I lay on my bed for a while after that. In one week, I’d lost the two women I’d come closest to loving since Aimee, and I’d lost all motivation to do…well…anything. I finally got up to go and fix myself some lunch and switched on the TV in the kitchen.

The adverts had just finished, and a programme was coming on. It was that show – Saturday something-or-other. A magazine programme, filled with celebrity chat and fashion tips, cookery and general interest stories, it was the polar opposite of my kind of viewing, especially today. I looked for the remote to switch to the news.

I’d just found it, and was about to turn over, when I stopped suddenly and looked at the screen. At first, I’d thought I was hearing things, but no…

‘Coming up next, the delightful Grace Anderton will be telling us all about her notorious split from the legendary midfielder, Leo Sparkes.’

The camera zoomed in on her, already in position on a sofa in the studio. She was more perched than sitting, her slim legs crossed and her hands in her lap. She looked scared to death. I groaned aloud. It was as if she were taunting me. God, I hated these kinds of programmes.

What the hell was she doing on it? The legendary midfielder…it said it all. No one outside of the die-hard fans had so much as heard of Leo Sparkes until a week or so ago. The only thing he was legendary for was for screwing some cheap tart behind his girlfriend’s back.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to turn over. I made myself a coffee, then sat down at the breakfast bar and waited for the inevitable train wreck to commence.

    Thirty Seven

Her

I was still buzzing from the interview when Jimmy dropped me back at Liv’s later that afternoon. Well, not so much from the interview – I’d made a total idiot of myself – but from the enthusiastic reception I’d got from Jimmy afterwards.

He’d taken me for a late lunch when the show finished, after I’d admitted I’d been too nervous to eat beforehand.

As we sat in the restaurant, he’d leant across the table and taken my hand.

‘You were wonderful, Grace,’ he said. ‘Truly, I’d never have thought of that. You’re quite the little actress.’

‘But I never…’

‘Trust me, Grace,’ he said, hushing my protests with a gesture of his hand. ‘You had them eating out of your hand. You’re a household name in your own right now, and things will only get better from here-on in, I promise you.’

‘You think so?’ I kept remembering my ridiculous behaviour when they’d asked me about Leo and, each time, I cringed anew.

‘I know so.’ He took out his phone. ‘I’ve already started lining up some other possibilities and, after that, they’ll be gagging for you, let me tell you.’

I was totally overwhelmed, and could only pick at my Caesar Salad as his words sunk in.

When I got home, Liv was waiting at the door, her arms open wide. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

‘Oh my God, Grace,’ she squawked. ‘You were fantastic! I called my mum and she couldn’t believe it when I said I knew you.’

‘Knew me is the understatement of the year,’ I said, laughing and hugging her back. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a pain. I’ll be out of your hair soon, I promise.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, dragging me through to the kitchen. ‘We’ll have to go out tonight – celebrate.’

‘Yes,’ I said, before remembering my plans for that very evening. ‘Uh…no. I can’t. Sorry.’

I couldn’t believe I’d actually forgotten. Maybe I wasn’t looking forward to it quite as much as I’d been telling myself. But I was going to see…

‘Not Nathaniel Fforbes again?’ Liv said, cutting through my thoughts.

‘Um…yes,’ I said. ‘And no.’

‘Don’t tell me,’ she said, with a wicked grin. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘Yes.’

‘And he’s not interested.’ She smirked. ‘I’ll bet he is now, after your interview.’

‘No,’ I said, putting the kettle on. ‘We’ve moved on from that. He can’t stand the sight of me, now.’

As Stephens drove up the long avenue to the Castle, I thought again about what Liv had said. If he’d even seen the interview, which I very much doubted, it might’ve softened him a little. I hoped so, at least.

I hadn’t brought anything with me. In my fantasies, I was usually out and dressed to impress anyway, so there hadn’t seemed much point. I decided to wear the midnight blue, diamanté-studded dress I’d worn to the F Bar, and the matching Louboutins. It seemed appropriate, somehow. As for objects and paraphernalia…well, the mind boggled, and I’d left those areas very much alone.

Ronnie was waiting for me in the entrance hall when the maid let me in.

‘Welcome again, my love,’ she said, kissing me on both cheeks before pulling back to inspect me. ‘No spare clothes?’

‘Um…no,’ I said. ‘I didn’t think I’d need them.’

‘Well,’ she said, ushering me through the corridors. ‘We’ll see how the evening progresses. I’m sure we can find you something, if need be.’

I wondered what she thought might happen to the clothes I was wearing, but I was too nervous to enquire further.

Nathaniel was waiting in his office.

‘I’ll be next door, Nathaniel,’ said Ronnie. ‘If you need me.’

I felt a certain tension between them that hadn’t been there the time before. I wondered if they’d had a row and, if they had, if it was about me. She’d said she thought we might be…I don’t know…an item or, at least, close. I could’ve laughed. How little she knew.

‘Allow me to congratulate you,’ he said, stiffly. ‘On the…spectacle you made of yourself today.’

‘Spectacle?’ So he had seen the interview. It wasn’t quite the reception I’d been expecting, if so. Congratulate? I remembered the Congratulations in his text. So he had been being sarcastic.

‘A proper little show you made of yourself,’ he commented, pulling back the curtain briefly to peer into the playroom. ‘How did that come about?’

‘Jimmy organised it,’ I replied, taken aback at his tone. ‘He said I did well.’

‘If you’re going to let me help you.’ His voice was level, but there was an edge to it. ‘You need to let me make those kinds of decisions. You’re all over the place. Good decision…bad…you can’t tell the difference at the moment.’

‘I didn’t decide it,’ I said, starting to feel angry. Who was he to tell me what to do? ‘I told you. It was Jimmy.’

‘And who’s Jimmy, exactly?’

‘My agent.’

He was still speaking calmly, but his eyes were flashing with a fire that made them sparkle like sapphires.

‘Fuck your agent,’ he exploded. ‘He knows fuck all about you. Don’t you get it? You need to be lowering your profile, not raising it. The higher it is, the more risk of you being exposed.’

I didn’t speak. I could see he was right, but I needed the money.

‘I’ll make the decisions,’ he said. ‘I’m your fucking agent.’

‘No,’ I said, finally finding my voice. ‘You’re just my fucking pimp.’

My words seemed to startle him out of his fury. Maybe it was the fact that I swore, or maybe it was because I’d hit too close to home. Whatever it was, his mouth snapped shut and he turned away.

When he spoke again, it was in the measured tones he’d used when I arrived. ‘If that’s really what you think,’ he said. ‘Then there’s nothing more to say. Are you ready?’

I stared back at him. Somehow, I felt, I’d said an unforgivable thing. I wanted to apologise, but it seemed futile. If he hadn’t hated me already, he did now.

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’ I shrugged.

He didn’t even look at me, but instead switched on the intercom.

‘We’re ready here, Alex,’ he said, taking my coat. ‘Whenever you are.’

He turned to me. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’

I nodded, not meeting his eye.

‘You can still back out.’

I shook my head, not meeting his gaze.

‘Fair enough.’ He shrugged, opening the office door. ‘Then, let play commence.’

    Thirty Eight

Him

By the time we reached the playroom, I was already regretting my outburst. I’d been stewing on that interview all day, and I’d just lost it. It showed how much I felt for her – it was a point of honour for me, never to lose my composure. I’d just dishonoured myself, and her with it.

It wasn’t even about her public profile, if I was honest with myself. That was all true, but it was just something to focus my hurt on. The real issue was the tears. I’d never expected her to cry over Sparkes. He wasn’t worth it, and I’d just assumed she knew that. It’d never occurred to me that she might still care for him.

As I went to turn the handle, I paused and turned to her. It was her last chance for redemption, in my eyes. ‘Are you completely set on this?’

She looked back at me, expressionless, and nodded.

I opened the door and she stood there, looking in. It was all set out and ready, the men already in place and a bar in the corner, which had been brought in for the occasion. I’d made that decision. It was a nod to the F Bar, where I’d saved her from herself once before, and it seemed appropriate.

It certainly appeared to please her.

She turned and smiled at me and went to walk in. When I didn’t follow, she turned back to me.

‘Aren’t you...?’

‘Coming in?’ I almost laughed and shook my head. ‘Absolutely not, Miss Anderton. This is your fantasy. It certainly isn’t mine.’

As I pushed the door shut, she was still looking out at me, her eyes wide – her expression unreadable.

    Thirty Nine

Her

As he closed the door, another door was closing too. I knew that. He’d shut down on me completely, and this was probably the last time I’d ever see him, apart from as one of Max’s clients. It was probably just as well. He was married, after all, and I had enough problems without getting involved in something like that. Besides, I’d been right all along…he was an arrogant dick. I’m your agent, for Christ’s sake, just as if he owned me.

I turned to look around me. It was the same room as before, but the bar in the corner, and the scattered groups of chairs, gave it a whole different feel – almost like a real nightclub. It was a nice touch – I’d give him that. He might not have liked me, but he’d still put in the effort.

There were seven guys in there, four sitting down, two at the bar and one, the one who’d been videoing the time before, behind the bar. A few of them were good looking, but the rest were just ordinary, including one older man, with a receding hairline. They were all looking at me, and I felt awkward and out-of-place. I didn’t know what to do so, after a few moments hesitation, I did the only thing I could think of – I went to the bar.

All the guys turned to watch me walk over there – well, they were bound to. They’d paid for the privilege. The thought alone made me feel dirtier than I’d ever felt in my life. I wasn’t much more than a prostitute now, and the thought made me feel even more uncomfortable.

‘Something for the lady?’ said one of men at the bar, looking me up and down.

‘Uh…a glass of champagne, please,’ I said, my thoughts returning to the scene I’d watched the Friday before.

‘Oh, expensive tastes,’ said the other guy. ‘I wouldn’t have expected a girl like you to be so discerning.’

I flushed and took the glass that the barman offered me, gulping down half the contents in one hit. This was actually real, and they were really treating me like a slut.

‘Why don’t you come and sit over with us,’ he continued. ‘I’m sure you’ll be most…entertaining company.’

I smiled nervously and followed him over to one of the tables, where the other men were already sitting, glasses of lager in their hands.

‘Hey, Princess,’ said a blond guy, putting his drink down. ‘Come and sit on my lap.’

He was really quite good looking, but the Princess made me shudder. It reminded me of that night at Liv’s, with Leo. I wondered what he’d have made of it, if he could see me now. Well, I knew. He’d kill me, no doubt about it. How the hell had I gone from him, to…this?

I perched on the blond guy’s knee, and took another sip of my champagne as he ran his hand across my thigh.

‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’ he said.

‘Grace,’ I said. ‘It’s Grace.’

‘Lovely soft skin,’ he said, smiling round at the others. ‘I wonder what it’s like further up?’

He started to push his hand up inside my skirt and I tensed up.

‘Relax, honey,’ he crooned. ‘You won’t have any fun, if you don’t learn to lighten up a little.’

I did my best to switch off from the thoughts that were plaguing me, and enjoy the feeling of his hand, as it ran up my thigh. It was cold, and slightly wet, from the drink he’d been holding, and it made my skin tingle under his touch.

A guy with reddish hair came and stood at my shoulder.

‘Don’t keep her all to yourself,’ he said, running his fingers through my hair. ‘Let the rest of us get a look-in.’

‘Of course,’ said the blond guy. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to get exclusive, do you darling?’

I shook my head slightly. ‘No.’

‘Good girl.’

He didn’t move his hand from where it was, but shifted the chair out with his foot, leaning forward as he did so. As the chair moved, his fingers pushed inside my thighs and bumped against my clit. The thrill of their touch sent a surge of pleasure between my legs that was almost electric and, for a split second, I thought I was going to lose myself, after all, in the moment. But then it died again. It was like an engine stalling on start-up. One minute it was there…then…gone.

When he was settled again, he pushed his fingers in further towards my clit, pulling my thigh sideways with his other hand until my legs were spread wide.

The older man was standing back slightly, observing proceedings with a thoughtful eye.

‘Lift up your skirt, Grace,’ he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

I did as I was bidden woodenly, pulling it up across my thighs and over my hips, until it was in a bunch around my waist.

‘There’s a good girl.’ He came closer. ‘Now let’s see those tits. Pull your straps down.’

I pulled my straps down over my upper arms, until they snagged at my elbow.

‘All the way down, Grace.’

I pushed my elbows out of the straps as instructed and, as I did so, the top of my dress slumped down, revealing my breasts. I had no bra on – it was a sartorial impossibility with this neck-line.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ said one of the other guys, sounding awed. ‘Let me get a piece of that.’

They crowded round me and, bending forward, started to toy with my nipples, moving the chair I was on around further. There were hands all over me, but I felt nothing from their touch but a dull prodding.

‘I’m going to enjoy this one,’ another guy said. I couldn’t tell who it was, but he was behind me. ‘Christ, the Boss has picked us a winner here.’

The Boss? So he paid them? Did these guys work for him? Oh my God, these were actual people with lives. These weren’t faceless figures in a fantasy. They had feelings and thoughts…and they thought I was a slut. They’d be talking about me afterwards, and I’d be nothing but a cheap whore that had let them use her for their pleasure.

‘You’re getting ruined, slut,’ the blond guy whispered in my ear, as he pulled my panties aside and began to rub at my numb and naked clit. ‘Make no mistake about it.’

His words sent ahiver down my spine. I pushed their hands away and stood up, pulling the straps of my dress back into place. ‘I…I need another drink,’ I stammered.

I made my way back over to the bar, my legs trembling as I went. The guys followed me, but I ignored them. ‘Champagne,’ I said, to the man behind the bar. ‘Please.’

He poured me another glass but, when I held my hand out for it, he gripped my wrist and pulled me towards him over the bar.

Immediately, all the other guys clustered in around me. It was bare seconds before the skirt of my dress was hooked up over my hips. At least three pairs of hands were running over my buttocks, pulling apart my ass cheeks and dragging my panties down over my thighs, and still the barman didn’t let go of my hand.

It was like Jackaroo’s all over again only, this time, I had one hand free. I turned away from the bar to face the men, who were all laughing and cheering. As the blond guy pulled down the straps of my dress, I wondered, yet again, how I’d ended up in this position. It was then that I noticed I was facing the office window. Nathaniel was looking in and watching it all, his face ashen and haunted.

Their boss. Who’d paid for all this. And he wasn’t enjoying it.

I looked over again and he definitely didn’t seem to be getting off on it. He hadn’t last time, now I came to think about it. So why do it?

And why was I here? I knew, in my heart, but I didn’t want to admit it…didn’t want to admit that I was so desperate to see him that I’d go through this, go through what I went through at Jackaroo’s the second time, just to keep finding excuses to see him.

I was an idiot and, worse, I was a slut.

Ronnie’s words flashed through my mind suddenly; Don’t do anything you might regret.

Suddenly, they took on a whole new meaning.

I pushed the guys’ hands off me and pulled my straps back up over my arms. Pulling up my panties and smoothing my skirt down, I pushed past them all. I stalked out of the room, ignoring their cries of protest and blinking back the tears that were already springing from my eyes.

    Forty

Him

She’d appeared to be enjoying it. She’d even stripped for them, instead of them having to take the lead. I wasn’t sure how they’d done it. Usually they had to use some sort of coercion, or resort to doing it themselves. I’d kept the sound switched off – I couldn’t bear to listen – but I couldn’t help but watch, even as it killed a tiny part of my soul with every further development.

And yet – I wasn’t sure if she was enjoying it as much as she’d expected. For the most part, her expression had been tense and fixed, staring past the guys, rather than at them. I didn’t know what to make of it. If she wasn’t enjoying it, why had she stripped so willingly?

Just as I thought the party proper was about to begin, she caught sight of me and, within seconds, she was dressed again and out the room. I heard it shut with a bang behind her and by the time her running footsteps reached my office, I had the door open, waiting for her.

She burst in, sobbing, and threw herself at my chest. Alex was just behind her, standing there, aghast.

‘You didn’t tell me she was submissive, Sir,’ he said. ‘I thought she wanted to. She did it without a murmur.’

‘It’s okay, Alex,’ I said. ‘Tell the boys they can go.’

‘They’ll be disappointed, Sir.’ Alex hovered by the door, glancing at Grace hopefully.

I glared at him. ‘Fucking good,’ I said. ‘Look, there’s been a mistake. This was all a mistake.’

She was sobbing quietly into my chest but, as soon at the door closed, she pulled away, fury in her eyes.

‘Is this what you do?’ she hissed. ‘Seduce girls into falling in love with you, so they’ll do anything to please you?’

I stepped back. ‘Now, wait a minute,’ I said, and then it hit me. ‘Falling in love?’ I said, taking a step towards her. ‘Oh, Grace.’

‘Don’t touch me,’ she snarled. ‘I don’t need your pity. You had a wife all along. God knows how she puts up with you.’

The door opened, and Ronnie sauntered in. She’d been quiet in her office all evening, and I’d forgotten our intercom was on.

‘I’m divorcing him,’ she said smoothly, and ran her hand down Grace’s cheek, brushing away some of the angry tears. ‘And, for what it’s worth, you did the right thing. He’s a stickler for loyalty.’

She shot me a fond smile.

‘Look, I’ll take her home,’ I said. ‘Sorry, Ronnie – I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s fine, Nat, really.’ Ronnie ran her hand down Grace’s hair, and smiled at me fondly. ‘She’s not going anywhere tonight, not like that. Take her to your quarters.’

I took Grace’s elbow and steered her, still sobbing quietly, towards the door.

‘And Nat,’ Ronnie said, as we walked out the door. ‘She really does look very like Aimee, doesn’t she?’