Chapter 5 Eredine
EREDINE
While I usually had time between my morning and afternoon classes to leave the estate for lunch with either Arran or one of the girls, Monday was not that day. Perhaps to counteract a weekend of eating and drinking, Mondays were always my busiest.
For almost two years, I’d eaten lunch in the studio on the first day of the week, until Lachlan had enough of me being antisocial and maneuvered me into the staff lunchroom at the castle.
To my surprise, the men and women who worked at the spa—a separate building a short drive from the castle—ate their lunch here, too, since the estate chef served the staff lunch.
The food was fantastic, making it worth the trek over.
I began a friendly acquaintance with a couple of the spa ladies and ate with them every Monday.
Call it my Spidey senses or whatever, but I knew as soon as I walked into the lunchroom today that something was up. I felt eyes on me from all over, and as I approached the pass-through where we place our order, I glanced over my shoulder at the spa girls and noted they were watching me too.
Unease shifted through me, but I chose an option off today’s small menu. The kitchen staff member in charge today, Ali, said he’d give me a shout when it was ready.
Sucking in a breath, I walked toward the table, eyeballing the girls.
“Hey,” I said quietly as I took the empty chair they’d left for me.
They exchanged a look, and then Michelle, a masseuse from Inverness, said, “Notice anything strange in your classes this morning?”
I couldn’t say that I had. I frowned. “Not really.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Considering the gossip, I thought you would have noticed.”
I tensed. “What gossip?”
Natalia, a young woman originally from Glasgow, had escaped her massive Scottish-Italian family there for a little privacy up here.
She shared a lodge on the estate with a few of the other young staffers.
She leaned toward me. “Iris Benning told anyone she could that you’re a snake who lied and got her thrown out.
A few of the members were gossiping about it at the spa this morning. ”
“Saying what?” I gritted out, anger filling my belly.
“Iris told them not to trust you. They were …” Natalia shot a look at Michelle, who scowled. “They were talking about whether they’d come back to your class.”
Pulse racing at the thought of my classes becoming obsolete, I forced myself to remain calm as I rewound through my memories of this morning’s sessions.
None seemed any smaller, and I’d felt no weirdness from the members.
We’d had a very good turnout for my yoga/mindfulness class in particular.
It was those mindfulness techniques, in fact, that stopped me from overreacting to stressful situations such as this.
And thank goodness, because if what they were saying was true, then wouldn’t my classes have been smaller? Someone would have said something, surely? Lachlan would have gotten complaints from members and said something, no?
“I didn’t hear that,” Michelle interjected. “I just heard that Iris Benning was shooting her mouth off about you.”
“Me too,” Anne-Marie, a nail technician who lived in Ardnoch, added, expression reassuring. “I didn’t hear anything about boycotting your classes.”
“I think most of them are probably well aware that Iris Benning is a rotten apple.” Jacinda, the spa’s oldest staff member, an experienced freelance physiotherapist who only works Mondays, shook her head.
I could tell she was annoyed they’d even brought this to my attention.
“Anyone who’s crossed paths with that woman knows it.
And this isn’t the Golden Age of Hollywood.
That kind of behavior doesn’t stay buried anymore.
Soon enough, the world will know who Iris Benning really is.
So don’t you let her worry you a bit, Eredine,” she said kindly.
I gave her a small smile. “I won’t.”
“Good.”
A call of my name drew me from the conversation.
In the time it took me to collect my lunch and return to the table, I’d convinced myself to focus on Jacinda’s advice.
There was always gossip among the staff here because we’d all signed nondisclosure agreements that meant we couldn’t discuss anything that happened inside the club with the outside world.
So we only had each other to unload it on to.
But the gossip always died down within a few days when they found something else to talk about.
“I honestly thought it was a myth.” Anne-Marie giggled as I sat down.
Jacinda snorted while Michelle wore an envious expression.
Just before taking my first bite of grilled salmon and rice salad, I asked, “What’s a myth?”
Anne-Marie beamed. “The G-spot.”
I nearly choked on my mouthful, and the ladies laughed. “Sorry,” I said once I’d swallowed, my cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Neither was I.” Anne-Marie cackled. “But my God, where has it been all my life?”
Now I felt envious.
“You’ve honestly never had a man hit your G-spot before?” Jacinda frowned.
“Hey, I’m not sure I have,” Michelle answered, her lip curled in disappointment. “And I’m ten years older than she is.”
Natalia shook her head. “You need to get that man of yours told.”
“Aye, don’t I know it.”
“Do it doggy style,” Anne-Marie instructed. “Seriously, I was totally against it because I always thought it would be impersonal, but oof …” She waved a hand over her face like she was getting hot just thinking about it. “He hit me so deep, and at this angle—”
“We get it,” Michelle cut her off. “You’re embarrassing Eredine.”
“No, you’re not,” I promised Anne-Marie while trying not to be annoyed at Michelle for using me as the excuse. “I’m thirty-two, not a shy virgin.”
“You’re thirty-two?” Natalia’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “Give me your skin-care regimen. You look my age.”
Granny had taught me to take care of my hair and skin from the age of twelve. “Thanks.”
“Not a shy virgin?” Michelle pounced, eyeing me. “So, why do we never hear about your sexual exploits?”
Because I hadn’t had sex in eight years.
Oh my Lord.
Eight years.
Maybe my hymen had regrown. Who knew?
I missed sex.
Not that I’d ever been a casual sex kind of girl. I’d always been in a relationship with the person I was intimate with, but I’d had this one boyfriend before everything fell apart, and he was the first guy I’d met who seemed to care if I had a good time. We’d had some pretty great sex together.
I really missed sex.
Squirming, I crossed my legs under the table and speared my fork through a piece of salmon, a little too aggressively. “I’m very private,” I finally said.
“So, you’re not banging the headboard with Arran Adair?” Anne-Marie teased.
Unamused, I shot her a look that made her smile fall. “More gossip?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything …”
“It’s fine.” I shook my head. “Arran and I are just friends.”
“How can you be just friends with him?” Natalia huffed. “He is gorgeous.”
“Not as gorgeous as Brodan,” Michelle said.
“Did you see his last film? I kept rewinding the scene where he comes out of the bathroom naked, and though they didn’t let you see his dick, they certainly let you see his arse.
And what an arse it is.” She closed her eyes as if replaying the scene in her head.
I squirmed uncomfortably again because not that long ago, I’d fantasized about Brodan Adair, and now I barely even thought of him. And while the mention of Arran bothered me, I only felt a flicker of annoyance on Brodan’s behalf for being objectified. Not that he’d mind.
“I’d take Thane over the others any day.” Jacinda pointed her fork at us. “Now that is a man.”
Anne-Marie sighed dramatically. “Well, I’d actually take them all. Orgy style.”
“You try one sexual position outside of missionary, and suddenly you’re into orgies,” Michelle teased.
Anne-Marie cackled, and we all laughed with her, but my smile covered the gloom that had fallen over me.
It was a gloom that came for me now and then, and more often lately. While I knew I wasn’t capable of a relationship with someone anymore, I longed to be touched again. I missed kisses and caresses and the feel of a man moving inside me.
I’d never considered casual sex before because I needed to trust the person I was with, and it seemed impossible to find both.
Envy for these women who could reach for sex when they wanted it, could enjoy life to the fullest, scored through me.
Arro, Regan, and Robyn might crack jokes about their sex lives, but they didn’t go into detail because of the connections.
Regan and Robyn, sisters, were with Arro’s brothers, and Arro was with Robyn’s father.
It was too weird for them to chat about, saving me from those conversations.
But I envied them too. They’d all more than insinuated they were delighted with their sex lives.
The Adair men and Mac Galbraith apparently knew how to satisfy their women.
An image of a naked Arran braced over me, his hips thrusting against mine, flashed before my eyes, and heat blazed through me. My fork fell from my fingers, clattering against my plate, drawing the ladies’ attention.
“Are you okay?” Michelle asked, concerned.
“Fine. Just done. Didn’t mean to drop my fork like that.” I laughed softly, trying not to look mortified. I wished them all a great afternoon and took my plate up to empty it before passing it through the kitchen’s wash-up window.
Unfortunately, now that the image of Arran had entered my mind, I couldn’t get it to stop replaying. Over and over and over …