Chapter 6 Aurora
Aurora
My knuckles turn white as I centre all of my strength into the sponge and scrub.
‘Come on, you bastard,’ I huff as the stain fades.
I lower my head to the gleaming white surface of the dressing-room drawers and squint at it. It’s nearly invisible. But nearly won’t be good enough for Tanya. I know she’ll notice.
I scrub again until I’m satisfied even a forensic scientist can no longer find evidence of the chocolate-coloured nail polish stain I found smeared over the glossy surface like a particularly offensive skid mark.
‘Finally.’ I straighten and swipe the back of my hand over my clammy brow, pushing the loose strands of hair from my eyes.
I grab the vacuum and whip it round, then stand back and survey the walk-in wardrobe.
It’s immaculate. Every surface is gleaming.
Shelf after shelf of designer shoes and bags are lined up at perfect forty-five-degree angles to showcase them.
The oversized dove-grey velvet pouffe sits in the centre of the room like an inviting cloud, and the entire space smells like I’ve burnt a year’s supply of Diptyque candles.
I inhale deeply and let it out, closing my eyes for a moment and allowing calmness to wash over me.
The low hum of voices coming up the stairs has me glancing at my watch.
Shit. I didn’t realise how late it was. I should have left over an hour ago.
I’ll just apologise and get straight out of here.
I told Charlie I’d go over to his place tonight.
If I can gather up the courage, then it’s time we talk about the situationship we’ve got into.
I pause behind the door that leads into the master bedroom as the voices spill into the room.
‘Take off your suit,’ Tanya purrs.
A rich chuckle accompanies the sound of rustling clothes.
‘Patience, sweetheart. I want to take my time with you.’
‘You do, huh?’ she says.
‘I do,’ he murmurs. ‘I’m going to taste every inch of you.’
The sound of his voice is like warm butter on hot toast. Confident. Dreamy . . . Sexy.
God, this woman is so lucky. She has a wardrobe to die for, and her husband sounds like he adores her.
Kissing sounds travel from the room, and I hover by the door, a flicker of embarrassment preventing me from opening it.
Maybe I can just wait until they really get going so they don’t hear me leave.
Then I’ll be able to tiptoe around the edge of the room so I don’t disturb the fresh vacuum lines in the plush carpet that Tanya gets so precious over, and ease open the window.
I can escape down the fancy balcony that wraps around the house.
I’ve been out that way before once when Tanya had dinner guests and said she didn’t want to risk them seeing ‘the cleaner’.
There’s a reluctant, masculine groan as he pulls away from her. ‘But I do need to use the bathroom first. Give me a moment.’
‘Don’t be long,’ she coos.
Heavy footsteps move closer, and I look around in panic.
I should have walked out and said hello the moment they came in.
Not stayed behind the door and listened like some creepy eavesdropper.
And there’s not enough time for me to open the window and get out now.
The wardrobe provides absolutely no places to hide.
Not unless you’re a Birkin bag or a Louboutin.
Shit, think . . .
The footsteps grow closer, so I dart inside the bathroom and climb into the shower. It’s a giant one with a built-in seat, and it has a mound of clean, fluffy towels hanging on the outside of its glass door. If I tuck my feet up on the bench and keep my head low, I can hide behind them.
Planting my butt on the cold tiles, I wrap my arms around my legs and breathe as quietly as I can as her husband walks inside.
His shiny black shoes are visible through the bottom of the glass screen as he strides to the toilet.
The scrape of a fly being unzipped cuts through the air, followed by the sound of liquid hitting liquid as he relieves himself.
I should put my fingers in my ears. Listening to someone pee seems like a gross invasion of privacy. Sliding my hands up my shins, I reach for my ears, but that’s when I see it.
The shower door is moving.
My heart rate kicks up, stealing my breath.
It’s creeping open, the weight of all the clean towels hung on the door too much for it to remain closed. Or maybe I didn’t shut it properly.
Bloody hell . . .
I stare at it in horror as it inches open further like it’s in slow motion.
The guy’s broad shoulders come into view first in his dark grey suit. His head is tilted back, like he’s savouring a few moments’ peace whilst he empties his bladder.
The gap widens, and I clamp my lips together to stop myself from squealing as more of him comes into view.
I don’t look away fast enough.
His dick, in all its glory, fills my vision.
My mouth drops open.
I didn’t think dicks could be beautiful. But my God, this man has a work of art between his legs. Long, thick, and highlighted by a ridged vein that runs up to a smooth, broad crown that’s glistening as he squeezes the final drops from the end of it.
I’m even more jealous of his wife than I was before. I bet he doesn’t fart mid-sex. And that dick is a multiple orgasm giver, there’s no way it isn’t.
‘Hurry up! I need you inside me!’ Tanya calls from the bedroom.
Instead of hurrying, the man lets out a long sigh and curses under his breath like he’s mentally preparing himself. I don’t get it. They were all over one another moments ago.
My attention drops back to his dick, and I tilt my head, admiring the way his hand looks wrapped around it. He grips it with purpose – skilled fingers cradling the weighty shaft, thumb sliding towards the wide, fat tip as he prepares to tuck it away.
I lean a little more and my head catches on something.
A shampoo bottle dislodges from the inbuilt shelf above my head and crashes to the floor.
The guy jerks, his gorgeous dick bouncing in his palm at the sudden movement.
My stomach flies into my throat as the offending bottle rolls across the floor of the shower, the sound echoing off the tiled walls.
I look up and my eyes collide with a pair of rich brown ones, like molten bronze, in the mirror above the toilet. I rip them away fast, my heart pounding and cheeks blazing with embarrassment.
‘I’m sorry, I . . .’
I can’t help it; I glance down at his dick again before my brain registers something.
Molten bronze eyes highlighted with amber flecks.
Thick, wavy brown hair.
Oh God, no.
I move my attention back to the mirror. But he’s not looking in it any more. He’s spun ninety degrees and is facing me full frontal.
My breath flies out of my lungs in a gasp. ‘You have got to be kidding me!’
His expression turns thunderous, and he shoves his dick back inside his trousers hastily.
‘Rafael fucking Fairfax,’ I hiss.
He clears his throat. ‘Francis, actually.’
‘What?’
‘My middle name,’ he snaps, tugging his zipper up roughly.
I stare at him, and he stares back, his eyes darkening.
‘What are you doing here, Aurora?’ he growls.
‘Rafe, darling, what’s taking you so long?’
Her whiny voice cuts the air between us like a knife. I clamber off the shower seat and step out into the room.
‘Alice?’ she scoffs, screwing her nose up as she walks into the room and spots me. ‘What are you still doing here?’
She’s taken her clothes off and is standing in black lace lingerie, complete with stockings and suspender belt. I flick my eyes towards Rafael, but his attention is glued to my face, like she isn’t even here.
‘Alice?’ He scowls. ‘She’s not—’
‘Not supposed to be here, you’re right,’ I say quickly, widening my eyes at him with a ‘please shut the hell up’ look.
He closes his mouth, and I let out a shaky breath.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say to Tanya, who’s standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at me. ‘The list you left took longer than—’
‘So you being incompetent and unable to get all of your work done on time is my fault?’ Her brows shoot up her forehead.
Yes. If you weren’t such a goddamn unreasonable witch. That list would have taken two people an entire day to complete, and you expected me to do it in a few hours.
‘No, of course not, but—’
‘You know what.’ She holds her palm up, silencing me. ‘I don’t care about your excuses. You’re fired.’ She looks at Rafael and rolls her eyes. ‘So hard to find good help nowadays.’
I stay rooted to the spot as she walks to him and runs her index finger down his tie, giving him a flirty smile.
I clear my throat.
She arches a condescending brow at me as if to say, What are you still doing here?
‘My . . . wages,’ I prompt.
She sighs theatrically like I’m a huge inconvenience, then waltzes into the dressing room.
I purposefully keep my eyes averted from Rafael, my cheeks burning with anger at the way she’s talking about me, like I’m nothing. But I need that money. I worked for it. I’m not leaving without it.
Tanya returns a few seconds later and holds out some folded notes.
I reach for them, but she yanks them away before I can take them, giving me a dirty look. ‘Uh-uh,’ she tuts. ‘Not so fast. I think it goes without saying that I expect your discretion. You’ll never work in this neighbourhood again otherwise.’
I swallow the burning insult that’s threatening to spill from my tongue.
I give her a sweet smile instead, noting that she’s removed her wedding ring.
Once the money is safely in my hand, I say, ‘Absolutely. You can count on me not to say anything to anyone about what you do when your husband’s away on business. ’
Her mouth drops open, and she turns to Rafael, excuses spilling from her lips. I don’t wait to hear them. I stomp through the dressing area, swiping up my bag and shoes on the way. Then I pause for a moment before sweeping out my foot and messing up the perfect vacuum lines in the carpet.
Feeling marginally better, I run down the grand staircase. I pull my shoes on at the front door then yank it open.