Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALEX
“Christ. What are you wearing?”
Kit laughed as he flopped down into the seat on the other side of the small table I’d reserved in the bar. He leant across and gave my hand a light touch, sending a tingle all the way up my arm.
“Don’t you like it?” Kit turned his head from one side to another, showing off the woolly hat in all its tacky, ugly glory.
“Are they turds? Please don’t tell me you’re wearing a hat decorated with turds.”
“Christmas puddings, if you don’t mind.” Kit pulled the hat off and inspected it, leaving his hair standing up in little clumps my fingers itched to smooth down. “Although they do have a certain turd-like quality.” He grinned at me from across the table, his eyes filled with mischievous humour.
My chest tightened. I hadn’t seen him for the best part of a week and it had been agony.
It was work, he’d said when I’d called. A big company-wide restructure, alongside all the usual misbehaving employees, were keeping him and the HR team he managed very busy.
I believed every word he said, but I also guessed, after what he’d confided, he’d needed to be on his own for a time to regather his strength, to regroup.
I’d needed to do the same thing myself, once.
“You okay?” Kit tilted his head.
“Why?”
“Because you’re staring at me like it’s the first time you’ve seen me.”
I jolted. “Just wondering if you’re wearing a matching jumper under your coat.
” It was a quick response that got me a quick laugh.
Because in a way he was right, it was as if I were seeing him for the first time—a man who, I now knew without any doubt, would not just be a part of, but central to, the new life I craved.
“No, the hat’s as far as it goes I’m glad to say. It was the Secret Santa in the office today. At least I didn’t get the Rudolf the Reindeer novelty dildo that flashes red at the tip.”
I coughed, and spluttered out the mouthful of wine I’d taken, spray painting the table. His face was impassive, until his lips lifted in a smug little smirk.
“You’re a fucker, Kit Anderson. And anyway, it’s November so it’s too early for Secret Santa.”
“I know, but for some reason it’s always done in November where I work. I just go with the flow, but Christmas isn’t really that far off.” He looked around the steadily filling bar as he twisted his glass in his hands.
Christmas. For as long as I could remember, I’d hardly acknowledged it, but this year would be different. The words were out of my mouth before I let myself think.
“How do you fancy getting away over Christmas? Somewhere warm and sunny and where there’s no Christmas puddings that look like turds?”
His eyes widened. “Away, like abroad?”
I nodded. I could see the excitement taking hold, but so was the worry about how much it would cost. I leant forward, intent on coming down hard on that thought.
“I’ve got a place in southern Spain, on the edge of a sleepy hilltop village.
It’s secluded, there’s a large pool, and not a single sun burnt ex-pat in sight.
I’ve not been for a while, so I’m due a visit.
Just think of it. Sun, sangria, and Santa in a mankini. ”
His eyes widened some more as his mouth dropped open. And then he laughed, loud, full-throated, and filled with so much joy I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“It sounds incredible. Especially the mankini. I was, erm, going to ask if you wanted to spend the holiday with me. If you hadn’t made any plans, that is.”
With Kelvin, was what he meant. Kel and I might not have ever done the whole turkey and tinsel thing, but we didn’t do it together. It would be a first, and I tamped down on the ripple of apprehension in my chest, not letting anything mar this moment.
“No plans, other than the ones we’re making right now.”
“I haven’t been away properly for so long, so I’ve got leave I have to take or I lose it…”
“That’s settled, then. Give me your dates and I’ll book the flights.”
Kit nodded. “Let me know how much the ticket costs. All the budget airlines have sales on at the moment, so we could bag a bargain.”
I had no intention of accepting his money, just as I had no intention of flying in a cramped charter plane surrounded by tanked up tourists and their screaming kids. Short haul, long haul, it was business class all the way. Kit could discover that for himself when we arrived at Heathrow.
“Table’s booked for eight.” It was an easy way of heading off any more talk of money. He didn’t know it yet, but I was going to make sure he had his best Christmas yet. Just as I was going to.
The bar was getting increasingly busy and we had to lean in closer to make ourselves heard.
A couple of glasses of wine, and Kit was loose and relaxed.
He drifted his fingers through his hair as he talked about his job, his plans for his garden, and the Great Crested Tit Warbler Duck, or whatever, that he’d seen when he’d gone out with his bird spotting group.
“Alex.”
The voice was nails down a blackboard. My body stiffened, my nerves on high alert.
“Mehmet.” Short and blunt, the signal for him to move on. He didn’t. Instead, he smiled, his round, almost doll-like eyes coming to rest, briefly, on Kit before flickering back to me. His greasy smile broadened. I had no doubt he’d taken the hint, but he wasn’t acting on it.
Behind him, I spotted a couple of his heavies hanging back.
Christ. Mehmet Aksoy, and his crew, had pulled off the whole gangster vibe perfectly.
Shiny black suits strained against the lumbering, heavy set men who both wore sun glasses.
How the fuck could they see, in the low lit bar?
I bit back on the derisive laugh that tickled at my throat.
There was something cheaply theatrical about Aksoy and his brainless thugs.
Cheap but very, very dangerous. My gut heaved.
And Kelvin wanted us to go into business with this parasite?
Glancing over his shoulder, Aksoy said something in Turkish and the two bodyguards stepped away.
“Alex and I are business associates. Mehmet Aksoy.”
He stuck out a chubby hand. Flashy, jewelled rings were wedged on his stumpy fingers. Aksoy smiled down at Kit, and a gold tooth glinted; he was a man who liked his bling, adhering to the adage that more was more. He was an easy man to mock, if you fancied having your guts sliced up.
“I’m Kit. Nice to meet you.”
I doubted it, if the speed with which Kit pulled his hand away was any indication.
“Alex, I look forward to talking to you and Kelvin very soon. To our mutual advantage.”
Hell would freeze over before that happened. I looked at my watch and got up.
“We’re late,” I said to Kit, who stumbled up after me. I smiled down at Aksoy; I had a good six inches on him and I didn’t deny the bitchy satisfaction as I forced him to look up at me and return the smile that was as cold and bloodless as the one I gave him.
“I’ll contact Kelvin to arrange something very soon, to explore… possibilities. And I look forward to meeting you again, Kit. Very much so.”
Before I could stuff my fist so far down his throat he’d be smiling out of his arsehole, he was gone.