Chapter 4 #2
“Right….” A three-bedroom place and a pool, the girls would love that. My mind begins to tick. “That is interesting.”
“You’ve always said you wanted to leave New York City for a fresh beginning before they start school.”
I think while I listen. “I did.”
“Three hundred acres of land for the girls to run free on. Anyway, have a look at it, I’ll send you the link to the advertisement and if you want me to apply for it for you I can.”
“Okay. Are you checking about the massage tonight for me?”
“Yes, I’ll find out now.”
Ding….
“Just emailed you that caretaker ad now, you get it?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’ll report back.”
“Thanks.”
I click on the link and read the advertisement, this sounds too good to be true.
I scroll through to the images, there’s a giant sandstone mansion, I look through all of the images, rolling green hills. A beautiful lake and a flat driveway that goes on for miles.
The girls could learn to ride a bike.
Hmm…. This is interesting, really fucking interesting.
I click on the next image, horses and cows in paddocks, there’s a chicken coop. Ducks and geese are swimming in a lake.
Wow.
What’s the catch?
I bet the caretaker’s cottage is a dump.
I keep scrolling through the images, it’s another sandstone cottage.
I can’t click on the caretaker’s cottage photographs fast enough.
Two-story, the living room has an open fire, the kitchen is decent too, I find myself smiling as I look through the images.
The bedrooms upstairs are great. Jeez, this is some gig.
Hmm…. Could I really leave New York though?
A text bounces in.
No booking for tonight
What?
I dial Murial’s number immediately. “Hi,” she answers.
“What do you mean there’s no booking for tonight?”
“They said your services weren’t needed.”
I blink, surprised. “Is…. Is something wrong or….”
“No, they didn’t say that. Just said no massage was required tonight.”
“What about tomorrow night?”
“They didn’t mention it, perhaps the other masseuse is back from her leave.”
“Right….” I hang on the line as I think. She has a broken hand, she’s not back.
Damn it.
“Okay, let me know about the caretaker thing tomorrow, I imagine heaps are going to apply,” she replies.
“Yeah fine.” I hang up and slump onto the couch.
I have something else I need to care of…and it isn’t a fucking house.
My head tips back and I look up at the ceiling in frustration, fuck it.
I wanted to see her tonight….
This is why you don’t masturbate in clients’ bathrooms, you fucking idiot.
THURSDAY
“Hello, Andrew,” Murial answers.
“Did they call?” I pace with my hand on my hip.
“Oh my god, no. Why are you so obsessed with this job?”
I need to see her.
“This job was perfect for what I needed.”
“Yeah well, they didn’t call back and because I didn’t hear back from you, I made an executive decision and sent your résumé off for the caretaker position.”
“If I wanted it, I would have called you.” I throw my hand up in disgust. “I have my sister living with me and the timing isn’t right to move out of the city just yet.”
“Yeah well, I doubt you’ll even get an interview. If you do happen to get through the first stage we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You can always decline.”
“I will be. I need my friends around me.”
“I’m your friend and I think what you need…is a fresh start.”
“I don’t.”
“Who knows, a good old-fashioned country girl might be just what you need.”
“Goodbye, Murial.”
“Just admit….”
I hang up on her midsentence.
The afternoon is a blur with my mind in overdrive, we go to ballet and as the girls twirl and dance, I sit there in the corner weighing up my choices. The one thing I do know is that I am not having another sleepless night, tossing and turning while visions of her haunt me, body and soul.
What is it about this damn woman?
I don’t know why I’m overanalyzing this, maybe that was it, maybe I’ll never see her again…. But then, it feels like there is unfinished business between us.
The drive home from dancing has me deep in thought, the girls squabble in the back but my mind is elsewhere…
what if I never see her again? I mean, if I don’t do something drastic, I will never see her again, we will never run into each other because we come from different worlds.
On autopilot I cook dinner as my mind searches for an answer to this problem.
“I thought you were working tonight?” Sally asks across the table, my eyes rise to meet hers.
“Umm….”
What’s it going to be?
Screw it, I’ve got nothing to lose.
“Yeah, I am. I’ll get going after dinner,” I reply.
“Cool.” Sally smiles.
“Cool,” I reply, distracted.
She’s given me no choice. Tonight, I’m going over there, I’m getting my shoes and I’m getting what I need, with renewed purpose I make my plan.
Whatever it fucking takes.
8 P.M.
I walk through the foyer of Central Park Tower and straight up to reception. “Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Harrington.”
He looks me over and I raise my eyebrow impatiently, don’t mess with me, dude, I just had to park ten fucking blocks away and had to haul my massage table and bag the entire way.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he replies flatly
“Call up,” I demand.
“What’s the name?”
“Andrew Watson.”
He picks up the phone and calls as I wait.
If she doesn’t want to see me then at least I have my answer. I can forget I ever met her and move the hell on.
“Hello. This is Eli from reception, I have Mr. Andrew Watson here for your massage.”
“Oh.” He frowns as his eyes flick up to me. “Right….”
Fuck it.
I clench my jaw as I wait, what was I thinking?
“Okay, I’ll send him right up.”
Wait….
“This way, sir.” I follow him to the elevator and we get in, I have to concentrate on not smirking. It worked….
We ride in silence and I’ve come to the conclusion that I really don’t like this guy. He thinks he’s hot shit being on the desk here, it annoys me, and not a lot of people annoy me on sight alone.
The elevator doors open, we walk into the private foyer, past the giant floral display, and the double doors open. And there she stands, in her cream silk robe. Dark hair, big brown eyes and those fuckable lips that have been robbing me of my sleep.
“Mr. Watson,” she replies all businesslike. “You’re late.”
“My apologies.” I walk past her into the apartment.
“Thank you,” she says to the concierge before closing the doors.
Don’t blow this.
I walk into the great room and she follows me in. “Where would you like me to set up?” I ask casually.
“I didn’t book a massage tonight, Andrew.” Her voice is husky, sexual and it immediately hardens my cock.
I turn toward her. “I know.”
“So why are you here?”
My gaze drops to her big pouty lips. “I think you know.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me.”
“You’re all I can think about.”
We stare at each other, the air crackles between us and somehow everything feels forbidden. Like I shouldn’t be here doing this, saying these things.
“And you’re probably married,” I continue. “Or with someone or maybe just think I’m a complete fucking idiot…but…I had to see you again.”
“Why?” she whispers.
“To shoot my shot.”
She stares at me for a beat, and I hold my breath because this could go either way.
“Well, if you don’t mind, Mr. Watson.” She steps toward me and takes my face into her hands. “I’m going to shoot mine first.” Leaning up onto her toes, she kisses me, her lips are soft and lush with just the right amount of suction and I slide my hands around her waist as our kiss deepens.
Holy…. Fuck.