Reaching my arm across, I find the bed warm but empty. I check my watch, it’s six a.m. He did say we needed to be up early. Well, the sun’s up, so I guess we are too. Successful people are always early risers. I should add that to my routine if I want to succeed. Elton is definitely the five-a.m. gym type. He’d have to be to keep that body. I am more of an eight-a.m. quick dog walk while still in my love heart pjs sort of person.
I cross the room to go find him and the coffee he promised me, I’m going to need it.
I push the door to the lounge area open slightly; he’s on the phone, but he’s talking purposefully and quietly. I lean against the door. I know, I’m too nosey for my own good sometimes.
“Darling, why are you awake so early?” Darling? “I know, sorry I didn’t come home. I finished my meeting late then grabbed dinner with Charles. We both crashed at the hotel.” Not a total lie, I guess. He chuckles a soft, affectionate laugh. “No, Charles is asleep in the lounge, I don’t want to wake him.” Well, that’s definitely a lie. “Look, I’ll be home soon, and I’ll take you out for lunch and maybe a little shopping, okay? Love you.”
And just like that, my beautiful Cinderella bubble pops, and I come crashing down to reality. Disappointment settles in before quickly being pushed aside for anger. Another man using me, another man being a let-down. My father, Tim and now Elton.
The audacity of him.
How does he make time for it all? Squeezing in a secret shag then running home for lunch with the wife? Wait, no ring. Unless he takes it off. Maybe a girlfriend? Long-time cohabiting partner? Doesn’t matter the title. The point is, he has someone waiting for him at home.
I tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing my underwear and slipping it on under the T-shirt. I’m keeping this. That cheating arsehole can buy himself a new one. He’s got the money for it.
Now what, though? Do I confront him? Demand he come clean and apologise? It’s too bloody early, and I didn’t even get my coffee. I’ll grab a nice takeaway on my way home to nurse my wounds.
“Jesus,” he mutters. The soft padding of his bare feet on the carpet send me diving back under the covers and I turn away from the door. He goes straight into the en-suite. Now’s my chance to get out of here. Sneaking into the lounge, I find my dress and shimmy it over my bum. The T-shirt can cover my top half. It’s obvious what I’ve been up to anyway.
Ordering an Uber, I find my shoes by the window.Goodbye, beautiful view.I take one last look at this stunning room – I will never get to see this sort of luxury again. I’m out the door and calling the elevator with what I believe is speed and stealth. However, as I step in Elton pokes his head out the suite door.
“Reilly? Where are you going?”
“Fuck you! Wanker!” I call out, and as the doors close, I manage to flip him the middle finger.
Through my rage and astonishment, a small crack of heartbreak appears. I thought he was something special.
When will I learn?
THREE
Elton
“She flipped you off and called you a wanker while trying to sneak out of the hotel room?” Jeeves laughs as he spots me at the punching bag. Considering he’s technically staff – my driver, security and general go-to guy – he shouldn’t be laughing at my misfortune.
Clayton “Jeeves” Rider has been by my side since I was fourteen. When we were just two lads wasting time at the park smoking stolen cigarettes and trying to get strangers to buy us cheap beer. Another orphan with no home and no hope.
I started calling him Jeeves after he became my right-hand man. He hates it. That fact alone made sure the nickname stuck. When I made my first million at twenty-five, I picked him up out of the shithole of a bedsit he was living in, and he’s been with me ever since. You don’t get to where I am without an element of risk. It feels right to have a guy like Jeeves at my side.
“I don’t know why. We had the best sex of my life. I wanted to see her again. And then … She’s fucking crazy, clearly.” I sound petty, but honestly, I’m at a loss for an explanation of her disappearance act. Especially the way she left.
“Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are.”
I raise my eyebrows at his completely inaccurate comment. I am as charming as they come. Women flock to me. They always leave fully satisfied, and those who have turned into more eventually parted ways amicably. I am in no way a player, despite what some might claim. I am respectful, I enjoy the company of women, but I’ve never had the time for serious, long-term relationships.
Reilly has shocked my brain with her complete one-eighty turn. I felt things that night I didn’t know I was capable of. It wasn’t all just fun, games and sex. We had a connection. I wanted to open myself up to her.
My eyes were on her as soon as she walked into the bar. Her red curls piled on top of her head, she laughed at something her friend said. Tipping her head back, exposing her neck.
She stumbled as she made her way across the bar, wearing ridiculously high shoes that she had no business wearing. As much as they elongated her legs, she clearly can’t walk in them. Although, the women in my life would remind me they don’t dress for men. They dress for themselves, and sometimes for the validation of other women.
I wouldn’t normally pick up a woman in one of my bars, choosing to keep those two sides of my life separate, but after Charles and I finished a meeting in the conference room downstairs it made sense to head to the bar for a drink. And the moment I set my eyes on her, I knew it was the right place to be.
She looked stunning, a glowing red flare in between her two blonde friends. She stopped the other side of me at the bar,laughing and waving off her friend. I kept watching her, well aware I was probably coming off as a creep but I couldn’t keep my eyes away.
A tryhard twat tried to force a drink in her hand. When he gripped her arm with a bruising touch, rage burned through me and I found myself standing behind her.
Just a little boy playing in Daddy’s suit, the loser quickly backed off with one warning stare from me. I wanted to punch him in his wimpy face but I know better than to create a scene somewhere I could be recognised. Better to have him and his little posse removed and barred.
