Chapter 29 #2
“Right, next thing is my application.” He picks up the blank sheet of paper with a flourish.
“I’ve listed all my assets. All my balances.
As you can see, it runs into the billions.
” He indicates a point on the blank sheet.
“I’ve even added in my bank details just for you, Nat.
Don’t overspend.” He grins at Nat, pointing to a spot near the bottom of the sheet.
Nat grins back, as if it’s real. “I’ve also listed my hobbies.
And added the fact that I can get tickets to B4d Intel concerts.
In case anyone is interested in music. My nephews are James Greystone and Bucky Buckley.
” He’s hitting them all exactly where it hurts.
Using every technique of bribery and corruption, and he doesn’t care.
“No fucking way,” Noah gasps out.
“Noah,” I chastise him.
“Well, James Greystone. Ollie, you love that band.” He looks at Ollie who is looking totally sick at the development.
“Are we supposed to be impressed? You can’t buy us,” Ollie states, mutiny etched on his face.
“I know,” Jude agrees, with a sheepish smile. “As I said, it's simply my application. You can decide if I’m allowed back or not.”
“That sheet is blank.” Cal finally points out the obvious. He’s looking at his half brothers to see if he’s not going mad. They just smirk at him. They knew alright.
Jude looks at him. “Ahh, no it’s not. It’s invisible ink.
I borrowed some from Noah.” He sits back and grins at them all.
“You can consider me, then let me know Tuesday. I’ll pop in at football practice for your verdict.
If it’s a yes, we’ll go out to celebrate.
If not, I’ll get you all ice cream to commiserate with me.
Because, boys, I really want to come to your house and see your mother. ”
Cal actually pats him. Nat is staring intently at the blank sheet. Noah is grinning like a Cheshire cat. Ollie looks even more annoyed.
“We can vote on it if you want,” Nat declares, his eyes on the payslips that state FAKE across them in light black lettering.
“Now? You don’t want more time?” Jude asks, the picture of innocence. He’s deployed every technique from his podcast. The boys are oblivious. I’m not.
All the little three shake their heads. Ollie just glares.
“Okay, we’ll vote.” Jude is decisive. “Who votes for me to come and see you and your mother at the house on an evening?”
Jude’s hand shoots in the air. I raise mine with tentativeness, and with a small smile at Ollie. Nat and Noah put theirs up decisively.
“Am I allowed to vote?” Cal looks up at Jude, and his little face breaks my heart. He’s spent so little time with us, he’s not sure if he gets a say in this side of the Drew family dynamic. I’m praying Jude says the right thing.
“You’re a Drew brother. I’m sure you told me, and all the boys certainly did, that you are a brother.
Even though you don’t live permanently at the house, you are their brother.
” Cal nods his head as all the boys, including Ollie, nod at him.
“Then of course you get a vote. Everyone in this family gets a vote.”
Jude smiles widely at the boy and I almost get a tear in my eye, and he’s not even mine.
Cal raises his hand, and Nat and Noah smile at him. I see Ollie’s hand twitch, but he keeps it down on the table.
“That’s one, two, three, four, five for. And one against,” Nat states as if he’s at a board meeting.
“Let me add that to my application sheet. As you can see, there is a box at the bottom that states Access Denied or Entry Granted. We’ve all got to tick the box and sign our names.”
The boys are all waiting whilst he pulls out a pen. He’s not got the nib out, so it won’t mark the sheet at all. I can’t help grinning at his antics. It’s the best display of negotiations I have ever seen. He pretends to tick and then sign the sheet, passing both the pen and sheet to Noah to sign.
“Sign at the bottom and pass on. I’ve ticked the box Entry Granted for Life.”
All the boys are busy pretend signing. Except Ollie. Who hands back the blank sheet and pen to Jude, still issuing dirty looks.
“Great. I’ll file that. Thanks for doing business with me. Now, let’s order.”
The three younger boys cheer their collective victory as Jude leans in to me, surreptitiously brushing his lips across my earlobe. “Game, set, and match to me,” he states under his breath, and he sits back, grinning like a cat that got the cream.
The weeks roll by, and the lighter nights have Jude coming over as often as he can. The younger boys seem at peace with him coming and going, and as the cricket season starts mid April, he’s become a permanent fixture—both at home and the cricket club.
The only fly in the ointment is Ollie. He’s still convinced that Jude is up to no good.
And although he’s limited the amount of time he spends with his dad, the man is managing to drip poison into the boys’ ears.
The younger ones it seems to wash in and out of.
But Ollie is choosing to listen. Spin every venomous remark to suit his narrative.
I’ve decided I’m going to tackle Ollie in the next few weeks. His exams are starting, but he’s staying out a lot. He’s been accepted on an apprenticeship, but is still going for interviews for a placement. He needs the grades if he wants the top positions. We need to have a serious talk.
I’m sat in my office, mulling over my options as I know Ollie has a really crucial interview the next day. Dad let it slip, as Ollie doesn’t seem to want to talk about it at home. I think it’s in case he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t want his brothers to mention it to him.
My phone pings, interrupting my thoughts.
Jude: Lincoln. VVIP meeting. Greystone House. 1pm.
Me: I’m busy.
Jude: Lincoln. Don’t keep me waiting. I can see your diary. Forfeits for tardiness. In fact, be fucking late. I’ve bought a new whip. .
It’s Jude’s new invention. If he can’t get to my house, or if meetings are keeping us both busy, he sends a car for me for ‘lunch.’ I am generally the first course, the main course, and, seemingly, the dessert. The man does not intend to starve to death.
Every time he sends a text, my stomach swoops. Louise says she can tell if he’s on a text binge. I start shuffling about in my chair. Yeah, those texts are pretty explicit. I then go for water. Usually remove an item of clothing. I’m so hot, he sets me on fire from across the road.
My only retaliation to his tempting ways is to send hints about my underwear. The only issue is, by the time I get to his designated place, he’s frothing at the mouth. And I’m dragged in and my clothes removed from my body.
I’ve started leaving clean dresses at his home and his apartment in the office block behind my building, as he has a penchant to rip clothing from my body.
It is usually destroyed in the process. Louise always sniggers when I turn up back at the office in a different outfit from what I left the office in.
He tries to be more sedate if we’re in a hotel.
But I’ve started packing sewing kits and safety pins to stitch my clothing back together.
Not that I’m complaining. His wildness is a complete turn on. His eyes are feral, and if his hair is a mess I know I’m in for an afternoon of spice. I love it.
Today I’ve gone all out. I’m so glad I put on a super-sexy corset this morning, along with stockings and suspenders. It’s very 1940s. But the whole game heightens my sensuality. I feel sexy, and worshipped. The underwear has become as much for him as me. And his reaction never disappoints.