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Not expecting her to nuzzle into my neck and sigh with content, I feel my cock hardening at the feel of her against my body. Down, boy, this one’s not for us. She is just a moment of beauty that will keep moving forward in her own direction, which won’t be ours.
Walking through the little wire gate and up the pathway, I imagine this to be the sort of house my grandparents grew up in. The year I spent with my grandfather, I would sit for hours and listen to his life stories. I will be forever grateful for that time, however short it was.
“Oh my, it’s you… the Aussie god,” the young lady at the door exclaims as her hand covers her mouth, trying not to let anything else out that she didn’t mean to say.
Wallace laughs from behind me.
“Where shall I take her?” I’m guessing this is the friend Tori was talking to this morning and sending her proof-of-life pictures to tonight as we got into the car.
“Oh, um yes, straight down the hall to the spare bedroom at the back,” she says, scurrying down the house in front of me.
Spare room—this isn’t her home. Oh, well played, Tori. You were keeping yourself safe, and the protective bones in my body are very happy with that.
Placing her gently on the bed, still wrapped in the blanket from the car, she snuggles down into the pillow and pulls it up, stroking her face with the softness of it.
Taking one last look at her, I wish I could see her eyes one last time but know I’m better off not to. This vision is the one I want to photograph in my mind and take home with me. The quiet beauty.
“Make sure she drinks plenty of water, and she will need paracetamol as soon as she wakes. Ice on that ankle, and she needs to keep off it for a few days. Take care of her. Good night.” I turn and walk out of the house and straight into my waiting car. Wallace closes my door and jumps in, starting the engine. As we pull away from the curb, I see her friend standing at the door, looking like she has been hit with a stun gun. I bet the conversation in that house will be interesting in the morning.
Looking at the time, it’s now officially the weekend. Almost two am, and I just need to crash. It might be Saturday, but that means nothing in my work week. There is very rarely a day that passes that I don’t need to do some work.
I take the opportunity to message Mum, knowing it’s ten in the morning there. I want to make sure she is feeling okay and has organized the rental car. She looks after my nan and pop too, so must be able to get to them in a hurry if they need her.
Watching as the dots dance on the screen as she’s replying, it finally hits me how tired I am. Luckily, all my years of being a chef have taught my body to survive with limited sleep.
The appearance of her reply on the screen has my bad mood returning quickly.
“Seriously!” I can’t help but let my frustration out.
“You okay, sir?” Wallace has become more than my driver. At times, he has been my confidant, and I know I can trust him that what is said in this car stays in this car. He has worked for my family for a very long time, and his loyalty is treasured. We have developed a friendship built on trust. We might not socialize, but we spend more time together than I do with most people.
“My damn mother. She wrote off her car, so I told her to hire one until I can replace it. And she fucking hired a car the size of a jellybean to save me money. Those things are like a speed hump for a truck in the city. What was she thinking? I could buy her a whole car dealership, yet she sticks to a budget car. For crying out loud!” My finger hovers over the call button, but I know I’m too frustrated to speak to her.
“You need to remember, son, she didn’t grow up with money. It is hard for her to change. She will never want to mooch off you, no matter how much you have.” His voice is always so calming.
“But my father would have wanted me to look after her with his money. Something I’m sure he would have done all his life if he were able to.” Thoughts of a man that I only know through stories and pictures consume my mind like they often do when I’m alone at the estate and walking the grounds. To me it is like walking the beach back home. The sound of the waves crashing, the wind on your face, the smell of the ocean. My calming place. The estate has become a close substitute. The sound of the birds in the trees, the different animals calling out, and the rustle of the leaves in the English breeze. The smell of freshly cut grass in the fields and hay in the feeders has become home. But more importantly, I know I’m stepping across the same fields both my father and grandfather have walked, and that is the most comforting thing of all.
“True, sir, but he would also want you to give her space to live her life as she chooses.” His words resonate in my head, and as much as I know that is true too, I can’t have her struggling while I’m here living a life of luxury.
Silence now falling over the car, I need to just finish out the day, and hopefully tomorrow—well, later today, to be accurate—is a little less eventful.
* * *
I’m sure every member of my management team has ended up in my office today. All except Jocelyn who avoids me most days, and I’m okay with that. I haven’t seen her since Friday’s board meeting, and with it being the end of Tuesday’s workday, she has successfully managed to get through another day of not seeing me. Pity she is about to get an email from Lucy asking her to meet with me and Flynn tomorrow morning at nine am. I need to reiterate to her that this is my company and that is not going to change, ever.
Her words to Flynn on Friday were that if I didn’t watch myself and my high-handedness, the board will have no choice but to push a vote of no confidence in me as the CEO. She must think I’m stupid not to have all my bases covered, but I can never trust her. She is always working behind the scenes to undermine me. My grandfather did warn me about her but insisted she is family and that she always have a place in this business. I want to honor his request, but if she keeps stepping on my toes or sharpening knives behind my back, I will squash her!
My desk phone rings, and I pick it up. “Yes, Lucy?” I’m hoping that this afternoon is not about to blow up in my face with some drama I don’t need right now.
“Marco is on line one for you. Says it’s urgent.” Her voice trails off as she hangs up to put the call through, knowing I will never decline a call from one of my hotel managers when they say it’s urgent. I employ these people to handle things, and they only call pronouncing urgency if there is a serious problem.
“Marco, are you about to ruin my Tuesday?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood before he deals me the bad news.
“Nic, you know I would never do it on purpose.” His Italian accent is thick, but his English is excellent. He’s a valuable asset to our Italian hotel in Rome. He also manages our other locations in Italy, Milan, Portofino, and Capri. My recent trip to Tuscany was to check out a few other potential places. I was on holidays, but we all know that means work for me. The only time I truly switch off is in Australia because I’m so far away, and with the time difference, my staff have usually sorted any major problems before I have woken up for the day.
“Can we just pretend you are calling me to tell me about the rave reviews from the customers on this month’s surveys?” Sitting back in my chair, I brace myself for the true reason for the call.
“Si, they are excellent, but that’s not why I am calling.” Taking a breath, he starts, and although his English is good, when he talks at speed, I struggle to understand anything.
