Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
GASLIGHT AND GHOSTS
Jules
As soon as Omar leaves, I go upstairs to run us a nice hot bath. The tub in his huge ensuite, which takes up half of the third floor, was delivered and installed last week. Tonight feels like the perfect time to christen it.
I turn on the shower and pull off my clothes while it heats up. My phone rings, and I run to grab it in case it’s Omar. “Unknown number” flashes on my screen. Despite the warmth of the steam starting to rise from the tub, a shiver leaves gooseflesh all over my naked body.
Whoever it is is going to have to leave a message or send a text before I answer it. I hit the red x on my screen and hop into the shower to rinse off the day. The water pressure here is excellent—Omar complains it’s a little forceful, but to me, it’s like getting a massage. It only takes two minutes before the hot pummel of water starts to work its magic. My body loosens, but my mind is wound tight as a spring trap.
I really fucked up when I moved in with him. It made this heady fall inevitable. We aren’t just physically attracted to each other, we really like each other. Reena, my chamber mate, and even Jodi warned me that living together was a bad idea. They said we hadn’t known each other long enough and that we’d ruin what we were building by our households so soon. They were so wrong. It’s been wonderful and easy, and we’re solid as a rock.
But it was still stupid and selfish. I sit on the bench and hold my head in my hands while the water beats me down. I know this has to end, and I just wanted to enjoy it. And boy have I ever. I’ve been floating through time and space for the past six months. There are days I’m so happy, I wonder if it’s possible to die of it.
But as those blocked number calls started to come with a greater frequency this week, I think the trepidation that replaced my happiness is much more likely to kill me. I’m not floating, I’m careening. There’s a disquiet in my gut that grows more fractious every day. And today, it’s so loud that not even the prospect of a wet, naked Omar can shake it loose.
The conversation about his family was hard. I didn’t do it because I wanted to get him out of the way before Conrad makes landfall. I did it because despite what he was saying, it’s clear the tension with his family is wearing on him. And the distance is a problem for the prospect of work. He has a crisis on his hands, and he’s trying to handle it from here.
I turn off the taps of his hot steaming bath before I slather myself in his coconut lotion and pull on his dark gray, plush bathrobe. It’s too long, and I sling the excess over my arm and carry it downstairs to wait for him.
Halfway down, the doorbell rings, and I laugh knowingly.
He forgot his keys. “Coming,” I sing.
I untie the belt and let the robe fall open. On a stroke of inspiration, I put a hand on my bare hips. I check the mirror at the foot of the stairs and smile approvingly at the gratuitous display of my entirely naked left half before I fling the door open.
The welcome on my tongue, the laughter in my throat, the joy in my heart shrivel in breathtaking, perfect unison. My worst nightmare has shown up three months earlier than he should have. I clutch the robe closed and hastily retie it. But I don’t take my eyes off Conrad Duncan, not even to blink away the tears pooling in them.
“Hello, Jewel, darling.”
“How did you find me?” I ask even though I already know. That video. Architectural Digest.
His chuckle ruffles the hairs under his nose. “Just because you walk around with that nose of yours up in the air doesn’t mean you’re a god. You can’t command me. Or get rid of me. Or ignore me. I’ve been calling you.”
“Have you?”
He snickers. “As if you didn’t know. Aren’t you going to invite me in? I know your father taught you better manners than that.”
My blood boils at him daring to speak my father’s name. “As if you know a thing about what he taught me.”
He nods repeatedly. “True. All I really know about you is what you did to him.”
My heart races as anxiety and despair ratchet up to the same level as my anger. “You know I didn’t do anything to him,” I grit out.
“So you keep saying. Too bad the court didn’t believe you, Crown Jewel. ”
Hearing that name makes my heart hurt. It used to be the name of my father’s pride and joy. And now it’s the name of a criminal and a ghost.
“Shut up,” I hiss.
He rocks back on his heels, and his smirk intensifies. “I don’t blame you for changing it, by the way. It is actually the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”
I swallow the string of curses I want to hurl at him. He’s trying to get under my skin. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it’s working. “What do you want?”
“Invite me in.” His voice has lost all traces of amusement.
I hate him and myself for putting myself in a position he could exploit in the first place. He has the upper hand, and my heart is a runaway train, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting him step foot into our home. “No. You have to leave. Now.” I speak through barely moving lips.
“Either I come in, or I wait at the end of the street for your man to come back and tell him who he’s got living under his roof.”
Tears prick my eyes as I struggle with my choices.
“Stop wasting time, CJ. We know how this story ends. You give me what I ask for, and I go away for a while so you can keep your boring little life.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I force myself to think. I can’t let him in, but I can’t let him blow my life up. “I’m not blowing you off. But this isn’t the right time or place. Give me until tomorrow. Call me after 8 a.m., and I will answer, and we will talk.”
“I don’t have until tomorrow. I’m skint. I need a place to lay my head tonight .” He sticks his head in and swivels it from side to side. “You must have plenty of room here. I’m sure your man won’t mind.”
“I have a flat over a pub on Rattray Road. Go there and wait for me outside. I’ll come down as soon as I can get away.”
“Outside? Don’t you have a spare?”
“There’s one buried in the flowerpot right outside my door.” I’m heartsick at the thought of him in my flat, but it’s the lesser of two evils. “You can let yourself in.”
“Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck are you doing at my house?” Omar’s voice booms through the dark, and Conrad jumps and gives a small yelp.
“God, you scared the shit out of me, mate,” he says, clutching his chest and laughing.
Omar steps into the light, past him and into the house, putting his body between us. “I’m not going to ask you again.” He holds up his phone. “I’m five seconds from calling the police.”
My heart jumps. If he calls the police, this is all over.
“Jules, tell him that you know me, dammit,” Conrad shouts, and I enjoy the genuine panic in his voice for a second before I come to my senses.
I lay a hand on Omar’s warm, solid shoulder. “Baby, it’s okay. This is Conrad. We were in care together after my father died.”
Omar turns to face me, his expression still thunderous, but the skepticism that should be there isn’t. “And you invited him over? Tonight?”
“He texted to say he’s in town. Turns out his Airbnb is two streets away, and he’s only here for the night. I’m sorry, should have asked first.” I’m ashamed of how easily this lie comes out of my mouth. Old habits die hard, I guess.
The tension in his face eases, and he drops a kiss on my mouth. “No, you shouldn’t have. This is your home.” He turns back to Conrad, his voice not as warm as it had been when he spoke to me.
“I’m sorry, Connor. I’m overprotective of my Jules. Nice to meet you. Where are you in town from?”
Conrad’s eyes dart away, and the overly confident and intimidation demeanor he just displayed is nowhere to be seen. “Here, there, everywhere. Traveling around Europe. Just stopped in to refuel. It’s too cold here.”
“Well, that’s too bad. We’d love to ask you to stay. I’ve been dying to meet someone who knew Jules when.” He waggles his eyebrows at me with a mischievous grin that makes me want to cry.
He smiles at my man like they’re old friends. I can see why Omar isn’t suspicious. Conrad cleaned up nicely while away. His beard is trimmed and neat. He’s tan and fit and looks like exactly what he says he is: a person who’s traveling and only stopping to refuel. If I didn’t know the dark that lay beneath that smile, I’d believe him. He turns his false smile on me. “Oh, that would be great. I’d love to stay for dinner.”
“Yeah, and on a normal night, we’d love it. But we’ve got plans tonight. Next time you’re in town, give us a heads up, okay?” Omar holds up his hands to show him the takeaway bags from The Effra.
“Yes, I can see I’ve interrupted something. So I’ll just be on my way. Thanks for the kip, Jules.”
“Goodnight, then,” Omar responds.
“Night.” He winks and turns on his booted heel and disappears like a ghoul into the night.
I contain the shudder of revulsion and try to return Omar’s smile. He gives me a once-over. “Why’d you answer the door half naked?”
“I thought it was you, thought you’d forgotten something.”
“I forgot my wallet, but they put it on my tab.” He sets the food down and takes off his jacket.
I’d rib him for that normally. But right now, nothing feels normal. I take a step back, afraid that standing this close, he’ll be able to smell the fear that’s crashing against my heart like a typhoon overruns an entire coastline in a matter of seconds.
I inhale to catch my breath and keep the panic at bay. God, I think I’m going to throw up. “I opened the door and there he was.” I press a finger to my temple to soothe my suddenly throbbing head.
“Woah, Beat. You feeling okay?” He’s by my side in a matter of seconds, his arm around my waist, holding me steady. And I don’t deserve it. I shrug out of his hold.
“I’m just tired. Do you mind if I go to bed?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Right now? It’s so early. I got dessert.”
“I’m sorry. I’m knackered, and I have to be up really early to finish some work I didn’t get through before court. Raincheck?”
“Of course.” He tilts his head down for a beat, and when he looks up again, he’s smiling. But I know he’s only doing it for my sake.
“I’m sorry. I hate disappointing you.”
“No, baby. Don’t give it another thought.” His expression softens, and he smiles, but the furrow between his eyes betrays his worry as he scans my face and thumbs the rise of my cheekbone. “You look wrung out. Go lie down. I’ll see you in the morning. What time is the car coming?”
“Six a.m.”
“Okay, wake me before you leave. I’ll be up all night looking at candidates. I—” He stops short.
“You what?”
“I love you. Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.” He drops a kiss on my lips and reaches for the bags of food.
I grab his hand, bring it to my lips, and press a lingering kiss to the back of it, having to fight my tears. “Thank you. I love you.”
I wait until he disappears into the kitchen, just to make sure he’s not coming back this way before I duck into the powder room underneath the stairs.
My queasiness is suddenly an acute nausea, and I barely make it to the toilet before I throw up. I want to lie down right there and close my eyes.
My heart…oh God, help me. I thought I had more time. I should have been more vigilant, I shouldn’t have blocked his number. He has nothing to lose, and I know he’ll make good on his threat if I don’t cough up the cash. I’ve got much more than my career at stake now. I don’t give it a second thought before I open the app for my brokerage account. I have enough here to last him at least a year. I won’t waste it like I did the last six months.
I email my broker and text Conrad to let him know it will be a few days. Then I turn my phone to do not disturb before I drag myself to our bedroom and into the bathroom. I pull the stopper out of the tub and let the fragrant water drain away. While I brush my teeth, I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing.
Everything will be fine.
I just have to put up with him until he leaves again and disappears for another long stretch of time. Still, I don’t look at myself in the mirror. I’m afraid I’ll see a truth that not even my inner optimist can deny: Once this money is gone, I won’t have anything to bargain with next time. And there will be a next time, for sure. Lying to Omar tonight made me physically sick. I know he deserves the truth, and I want him to hear it from me. As soon as I come back from this very important trip, I’m going to tell him about my conviction.
I’m not surprised by the rush of relief that follows my decision. However this ends, it will be a crushing weight lifted.