Chapter 14 #2
I watched Alfie, the way his lips moved as he spoke, the bob in his throat as he breathed, swallowed and spoke again. Every detail of him tantalised me. He was right. His name did feel right in my mouth. As if it had always been there, just resting on my tongue, waiting for me to notice.
The ma?tre d' poured white wine into our glasses before depositing the bottle in an ice bucket next to the table. I smiled my thanks. Alcohol. I need alcohol.
"My usual please, Jean," Alfie told the man in the white coat, who I assumed was the chef. "Lola?" Three pairs of expectant eyes fell on me.
"I don't have a menu," I whispered, as if Jean and the ma?tre d' weren't standing right there .
"It doesn't matter. Just tell him whatever you want to eat and he'll make it."
"Really?" I glanced at Jean to make sure he was happy with this and wasn't just following orders.
"Oui, Madame, whatever you wish to eat will be my pleasure to make for you." He smiled broadly, his smile plumping his cheeks so much I wondered if he could see over them.
My mind spun with possibilities—everything I'd ever eaten, what I liked and what I didn't. A thousand what-ifs crossed my mind. I saw a guy on TV eat ostrich once; what if I ordered that? I was acutely aware of Alfie's eyes on me, awaiting my decision.
"Jean," I said finally, my decision made, "can you please make me your favourite thing to make?"
The chef’s face lit up, and with another "Oui, Madame!" he disappeared into the kitchen, the ma?tre d' disappearing with him, leaving me alone once more with Alfie Tell who was looking at me with approval.
I fiddled with my napkin. He eyed my hands, picking up on my nerves straight away. I placed the napkin on my lap instead and fidgeted with it there, out of his sight.
"So, show them to me.” I looked up, startled. "The earrings," he clarified. I bit my lip, wondering how exactly he was going to take this. I lifted my hair and showed him my naked lobes.
"I gave them to Ryan for treasure.”
He stared at me, seemingly dumbfounded. "Treasure?"
"Yes. On Monday I had to borrow Natalie's shoes, the ones you said didn't fit right, because he'd decided that mine were treasure and buried them in the garden. I wanted to give him some real treasure." As I talked I realised how insane that sounded.
"So, those seven carat earrings are currently…"
"…buried in my back garden under the watchful eye of an imaginative eight year old."
His expression was completely unreadable. He didn't smile, or look angry, he just stared at me. He sat back in his seat, the candle light reflected in his eyes, hypnotising me.
My gaze dropped to his mouth, to the lips that had been on mine and coaxed such a visceral reaction out of me.
My cheeks flushed, and I tried to blame it on the heat from the candles but I knew that wasn't it.
I didn't miss the satisfied look on Alfie's face.
He was affecting me just by sitting there and he knew it.
That was okay, because I knew I could affect him too.
"So, what now? You've gone to a great deal of trouble to get me here, Mr Tell. What do you intend to do with me?" I took a slow sip of my wine, not missing how his eyes lingered on my mouth.
"I think you're playing with me, O'Connell."
"Maybe, maybe not. Truly though, why did you invite me here?"
He paused for a moment, considering his answer.
"I just wanted to know you. I've been curious about you ever since you threw your smart mouth at me and called me…
what was it? Mr Business Suit?" He gave a slight shake of his head, as if he still couldn't believe I'd spoken to him like that.
"You're different every time I see you; changeable, unpredictable.
I never know how you're going to react. Do you have any idea how exhilarating that is?
After years of cardboard copy people, to meet someone so fresh.
" His eyes glazed over a little as he looked at me, as if he wasn't sure that I really existed. I felt the same way about him.
"Do you remember that day on the rooftop?
When you asked how you could be satisfied if you had the same wealth I do?
You were right. I am dissatisfied. The people in my world bore me.
Everything is so painfully predictable and nothing I own is enough.
But you, my unusual girl, are fierce and I want to know you.
I want to fuck you senseless too, and I will.
Not tonight, but I will. First, though, I want to know you. "
His words had struck me, rendered me speechless.
He'd struck my heart, my mind, and then finished me with an arrow to that visceral place inside me.
I felt the familiar ache between my legs, the one that plagued me so often when he was close.
He awakened some deep, reckless part of me that wanted to be free.
It was a part of me that sharply contrasted my rational side.
The side that grimaced at his arrogance and was none too happy about being tracked via GPS.
Those two sides of me warred, only confusing me further.
I sipped my wine again, allowing the liquid to cool my heated mouth.
"So know me." I waited, clutching the crumpled napkin in my lap, wondering what he would say next and what effect those words might have on me.
"Tell me about yourself. Have you always lived in this town?"
I breathed a sigh of relief. A safe topic. "Yes, born and raised here. I've never left, not even for a holiday. I think actually this might be the furthest I've ever been from home."
His eyebrows raised in disbelief and I could understand why. This was one of those moments where our different stations in life smacked us right in the face. He must have been everywhere. He probably had a plane on standby right now.
"Where are we, anyway? I thought I passed by water earlier."
"That's the River Thames. Do you want to travel?"
"Yes, of course." Travelling was always something that seemed so out of my reach I'd never allowed myself to think about it too closely.
"Where? Tell me."
"Stockholm, Italy, Amsterdam," I checked them off on my fingers, growing in confidence as I spoke, "Norway, Iceland.
I'd love to see the Golden Circle. Keira went there once for a bachelorette party of all things.
I think Iceland was wasted on her." I stifled a sudden giggle as I remembered her words at lunch the other day.
"Why are you laughing?"
"I was just remembering something Keira said. When I was telling her about you she said that a billionaire was wasted on me." I worried for a moment that he wouldn't appreciate the joke but he just gave a small nod.
"Yes, I'd say that's accurate. Now, tell me more about you, tell me about your family. I already know you have a sister and a nephew."
“She's my half sister. We share the same father and she and Ryan are the sum total of my family. What about you? Are you close with your family?"
"I don't wish to discuss my family," he said, but I just gave him the same ‘go on’ motion he had given me and he sighed as if already bored.
"I have a younger sister, Grace. She's engaged and living in London with her fiancé, Nathan. My father passed away ten years ago. My mother, Carolyn, currently lives in Monaco. We speak occasionally."
"Can I ask what happened to your father?”
"He died of a heart attack when I was 23." He waved a dismissive hand, clearly done with that subject. "I inherited the company shortly after."
“I’m sorry,” I said but he just waved another hand.
“Bad hearts run in my family.” It was a strange thing to say but I decided not to comment on it.
I wondered about the 23 year old Alfie from the article. He was arrogant and spoiled in that interview but he was also playful and wild, nothing like the cold man sitting in front of me who could barely stand to crack a smile.
"Did you want it? The company I mean." I knew from reading the article that he hadn’t ten years ago. In fact, he’d told the reporter to wring his neck and put him out of his misery if he ever ended up working for his fathers company. Now he didn’t just work for it, he ran it.
"Whether I wanted it or not is irrelevant." Something crossed his face, an old memory, a secret. I wanted to reach out and catch it, to ask him what it was, but his face shut down and I knew that whatever it was, he'd just buried it so deep there was no way I was getting to it tonight.
"Tell me more about your company."
"It's not interesting, Lola. All I do all day is talk about the company. I'd rather not do the same tonight."
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms, giving him the same look he gave me when he wasn't going to budge.
"Alright. I'm the CEO of Tell Company LTD, an international luxury hotel chain started by my father in 1980.
The company has a net worth of more than 40 billion dollars.
It fluctuates with the economy. We have more than 120 hotels worldwide.
Our corporate office is located in London.
We have regional offices in New York, Canada, Switzerland, and Berlin.
I have more than 30,000 employees across all chains and locations…
you can Google all of this, Lola." His tone was harsh, biting.
It surprised me. I hadn't expected such a vehement reaction.
"You hate it, don't you?"
His eyes flashed in surprise. "Miss O'Connell, I'm enjoying your company but I'd advise you not to discuss matters you don't understand."
I rolled my eyes at his attempt to shut me down. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. I don't blame you for hating it. It sounds boring as hell."
He paused, looking at me the way he did so often, like I was an alien. "I don't have time to be bored."
"Really? It sounds to me like you do the same thing over and over. You get off a fancy plane and get in a fancy car to go to a fancy meeting, then have a fancy dinner with fancy people, before going back to your ultra fancy hotel and doing it all over again the next day. I'd be bored to death."
"I could say the same to you, you know. You've lived in the same town with the same people your whole life," he said.
I nodded and sipped at my wine. "True. Still, I think you're bored."
The man looked me up and down, cocking his head in that way that had my stomach doing little flip flops. "You don't bore me."
I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. He didn't bore me either.