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I frowned. “Then why is it a club only for billionaires?”
“Because it is special and must be seen and treated as special before it can grow. Would you put your fifteen-thousand pound Louis Vuitton dress into the wash with your waitress uniform? Slowly, over a very long time the techniques will spread to the rest of the population.”
“How did you know I was working as a waitress?”
“There’s very little I don’t know about you, Freya,” he said very quietly, his eyes were suddenly shrouded. Then he stood, filling the room with his deliciously naked presence. When he spoke, I felt myself shudder ever so slightly.
“I’m running late for a meeting so I’ll get someone to drive you home. I’ll arrange a pill for you to take before you leave.” With that, he walked away and shut the door behind him.
Wow! He didn’t even trust me to get my own morning after pill!
Later that morning I was sitting in class deep in thought about the forgotten techniques taught in the Blue Butterfly when someone suddenly squatted by my side.
“Hey.”
I looked down to see the nice guy I had spilled my red wine on yesterday evening. He was smiling at me and there was a twinkle in his eyes.
“Hey,” I responded, wishing that I could be attracted to him instead of crazy about Brent.
“You disappeared last night,” he complained, good naturedly.
I smiled. “Something urgent came up.”
The class was restarting from the fifteen-minute break so he gave me a charming smile and rose to his feet. “See you around.”
I nodded in agreement, and marveled at how detached I felt from my entire class. They all felt like complete strangers to me. This entire past year since my father passed away, I had barely noticed anyone. I’d been too focused on my grief or on how to chip away at the mountain of debt his departure had left us. Now I had money, but the current headache was how to explain its existence to my mother.
Picking up my phone, I pulled up Brent’s number. I had since calmed down from the sting of his less than loving departure that morning and chalked it up to the nature of our agreement.
I wanted to send him the message, the way a lover would, but I wondered if that would be too clingy. I put the phone away and tried to concentrate on the lecture, but five seconds later I had the phone back in my hand.
Can you talk? I need to ask you something.
I pressed the send button before I could think it through, just like I had done the previous night, and waited for the rewards or disaster of my action to arrive.
A painful hour passed, then the class came to an end. My teammates came by, so we could all attend our project planning meeting.
We headed downstairs to the lobby of the building and sat around a table to begin. I kept my phone away so I could concentrate, but I didn’t have the heart to mute it. In case he answered. The moment it began to ring half-an-hour later, I jumped up and hurried over to the wall where it was charging.
The incoming number was unknown, but it wasn’t Brent. It wasn’t the one that he had used to contact me previously, anyway. I hesitated for a moment and then quickly picked it up. Perhaps it was another number of his. “Hello?” I answered, supporting the phone with both hands to keep it still. I hated how nervous I felt.
I waited for his voice, but it didn’t come, instead someone unfamiliar responded.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“Hello, Freya. It’s Liam Lucan. Can we talk?”
Freya
Three hours later, I was seated in a glamorous cafe in West London.
Liam Lucan had said there was something very important I needed to know and that it could not wait. At first, I was reluctant to go, because I remembered Brent telling me he didn’t want to be with me because of the childish game I had played with his brother when I had danced with him to make Brent jealous, but then Liam said the magic words.
“It’s about your father, Freya.”
I was sitting by the window facing the street, so the moment he arrived, I saw him. He got out of a burnt orange Mclaren, and took his time to acknowledge the cat whistles and buzz his vehicle garnered by some teenage boys who had hurried over from the bus stand to come and admire his car.
He found me easily, and took his seat with a smile.
I could barely work up one in response. My nerves were frayed as nothing about any of this felt right, especially as Brent had warned me away from him, but I needed to hear what he had to say.
“Hello, Freya,” he greeted formally. “Thanks for meeting me.”
I nodded and waited as he placed a quick order for organic chrysanthemum tea. He was dressed more simply today, but no less opulent in a gray sweater and a charcoal thick coat. The skinny white pants that completed the look was sufficient enough to remind me of my unease of him.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” I asked, needing this meeting to come to an end as quickly as was possible.
He regarded me plainly. “To be honest, I didn’t know how to take this up with you when we first met at the banquet, but in light of what I have found out since then, I think you will definitely want to know about this.”
“What are you talking about?” I had a sick feeling in my stomach.
“I found out that you have quite an interesting physical relationship with my brother.”
