Bad Grace: A Billionaire Romance Romantic Suspense (The Filth Monger Book 2) (11 page)

Him

W
hether she just didn’t want to talk about it now, or whether she was truly pressed for time, she suddenly looked at her watch and stood up.

‘I didn’t realise how late it was,’ she said. ‘I’ve an appointment.’

‘I’ll take you.’ I stood up, too, and drained the last of my tea. ‘Stephens is on standby, somewhere around here.’

I left a tenner on the table and escorted her back out into the shaded vaults of the market. She seemed on edge, and I knew how she felt. I didn’t know how to play it. I wanted to take her in my arms, there and then, and tell her how I felt, but it just seemed such bad timing, what with Charlotte and Rick. I didn’t want her getting caught up in all that. Added to which, it was true - Max would be pissed off. I couldn’t give a shit, for myself, but for her…he’d make her life hell, and it didn’t seem fair.

If I’d thought she felt the same, it might have been different, but she seemed distant again, back to the girl I’d spoken to on the verandah at the F Bar. I had to keep my desires to myself, for now, and focus on what she needed. I’d given her my word.

‘You don’t have to,’ she said, as we came out into the blaring rush of Lombard Street. ‘I’m going to the West End. I can find my own way.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ I said. ‘It’s practically on my way home.’

‘Does Stephens always drive you around?’ She looked at her watch again.

‘Now, you know very well he doesn’t,’ I said, with a grin. ‘But in the middle of the day, in the centre of London…well - it beats taking the bus, I suppose.’ Or the Tube, I thought to myself, remembering the previous night.

She laughed, and it was like she’d turned into another person. ‘You? On a bus? Now, that’s something I’d love to see.’

‘I’ve been on a bus,’ I said. ‘I was a student once, don’t forget. And you should laugh more. It suits you.’

‘Well, I suppose a bus might suit you,’ she said, with a wicked grin. ‘But it’d have to be a very special bus, for your own personal use. Gold-plated, and…with a Jacuzzi on board.’

‘A Jacuzzi?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘What kind of man do you think I am?’

She looked directly at me and raised her eyebrows back. ‘We both know what kind of man you are,’ she said, pointedly. ‘You’re a filth monger. It says so on your card.’

‘Now, look, I…’

But at that moment, Stephens pulled up at the kerb and, by the time we’d got into the Bentley, the moment was lost.

So she was still dwelling on the card. No wonder she seemed distant. I tried again to address this warped notion she had of me, as we headed through the traffic into the West End.

‘Grace, about that card,’ I said, turning to look at her. The windows were down, and her hair was blowing across her face. I wanted to push it back for her, but I didn’t know how she’d take it. ‘I know what it said, but I’m not the kind of man to…’

‘I know what kind of man you are,’ she said, quickly. ‘You don’t have to explain. It’s why I called you. I wanted…’

She tailed off and looked out of the window.

‘You wanted…?’ I shifted in my seat, so that I was facing her. ‘What is it that you want, Grace? You can tell me.’

‘It’s not what I want,’ she said, still looking out of the window. ‘It’s what I need. I can’t help it…can’t help myself.’

‘And the counselling? You’ve only been once, you said.’

‘Didn’t help.’ She closed her mouth, firmly. ‘I’ll go again, but it won’t stop me. Nothing seems to stop me.’ She turned to look at me. ‘I wouldn’t have got in touch, otherwise.’

I turned away from her. So it really was all about that. I wanted to tell Stephens to pull over…to drop her off…but I’d given her my word.

My word.
Christ, it did nothing but get me into trouble. Why was I so fucked off, anyway? She was hardly the first woman to come to me in a tail-spin. Hell, their friends, their husbands – even their fathers – sent them to me on a regular basis. She was just one more fucked-up female to sort out. I’d taken on the mantle - made it my mission in life. It was my decision, so why was I letting her get to me like this?

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, with an embarrassed laugh. She seemed to realise she’d said the wrong thing. ‘I didn’t know where else to turn. I know I sound crazy, but he…Leo…took my fantasies away. I just want them back.’

I’d heard women say similar things too many times, for too many reasons. She didn’t sound crazy to me, but it didn’t mean I had to like it.

‘And if you experience them? What then?’

‘Then,’ she said, with the hint of a sob in her voice. ‘I might finally get a decent night’s sleep.’

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes but, as we entered the West End, I knew I had to say something. She’d come to me for help, and I couldn’t leave it like this.

‘Look,’ I said, as Stephens pulled over at the address she’d given him. ‘If you want it that badly, I can make it happen – discretion assured and no questions asked – but, please, don’t ask me.’

‘Please,’ she said, even as I willed her not to.

There was nothing I could say. She had her own path to follow, and I knew that, if I tried any harder to dissuade her, she’d give up on me and walk it alone, and into certain danger. If she weren't killed, she’d be ruined – splashed all over the fucking media like her mate, Kitty Hart.

‘Be ready, then,’ I said, as Stephens got out to open her door. ‘Stephens will pick you up at seven.’

I left her, standing on the kerb and watching as we pulled away. I turned to catch one last glimpse of her and wondered, not for the first time, what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

‘Home, please, Stephens,’ I said, turning away and getting out my phone. ‘There’s some business I need to attend to right away.’

Her

J
immy turned out to be a quaint little man, in a garishly striped suit. Short and slightly balding, with his remaining hair combed carefully back over his tanned scalp, he held out his hand and shook mine warmly.

‘Grace, Grace, Grace,’ he said, ushering me into his office. ‘How has it taken us so long to meet?’

‘It’s very kind of you to offer to see me,’ I said, gazing around the room. It was large but seemed cramped somehow. It probably had to do with the walls, which were covered from floor to ceiling with signed photos of celebrities. Some of them were dead now, I was sure. He’d obviously been in the business a long time.

‘It’s my pleasure, dear girl,’ he said, sitting down in front of me, at an enormous desk, empty but for a phone, a laptop and a notepad. ‘I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have you here.’

‘So,’ I said. ‘Do you think you can do anything for me?’

‘Oh, my dear.’ He clasped his hands together. ‘With your looks? I mean, just look at you. Your figure! That hair! Those eyes! Those cheekbones!’ He paused briefly to give a satisfied sigh. ‘And, of course, you’ve come here at such a
serendipitous
moment.’

He paused theatrically, waiting for me to speak. I didn’t. I could only look at him, wondering if he’d gone stark staring mad. Was he even talking about me? I think he thought I didn’t understand what
serendipitous
meant because when he started talking again, he repeated it, complete with explanation.

‘Serendipitous, darling. Fortune is smiling upon you, my dear. Just when that
footballer…
’ He wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘…Has been such a very bad boy, and that naughty girl Kitty has gone AWOL. Oh, I’m cross with her. I am. I’d be a liar if I said otherwise, but it’ll all come out in the wash.’

He stopped again for a moment and looked at me, consideringly. ‘Now, let me see. What have I got at the moment?’

He leafed through his notebook, before throwing it down in disgust and turning to his laptop. He perched a small pair of glasses on the tip of his nose and seemed to be looking down a list. Every now and again, he’d turn back to look at me.

‘Hmm, no,’ he said, on one occasion. ‘You’re a bit…thin. My dear, you do need to eat, you know. It’s a
man
you’ve lost, you know – not a pair of Manolos. It’s not the end of the world.’

I smiled, in spite of myself. He was eccentric, but he seemed to have a good heart. I could see why Kitty doted on him. The luvvy-meter must have been maxed out, when they were in here together.

‘Why don’t we try you with a little spot on
This is the Morning
to start with?’ he said, finally, looking at me over his glasses. ‘Just a quick chat. You know the sort of thing.’ He put on a woebegone face. ‘
Oh, well, I was utterly destroyed by it but, you know, I’ve picked up the pieces and I’m stronger now…
That sort of thing. Get the audience’s sympathy. Make them like you, then…wham! You’re available for public appearances.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, thinking maybe it had all been a horrible mistake. I went to get up. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve thought this through. I didn’t think. I mean, it’s not like I’m a celebrity, like Kitty.’

‘Not a celebrity?’ Jimmy jumped up from his seat and came round to my side of the desk, settling me back down in my seat. ‘Who’s not a celebrity? Let’s do a search, shall we?’

He turned the laptop to face me and, carefully, using two fingers, typed in
Gr
. The first search result that came up – with only those two letters – was Grace Anderton. I sat back in my chair, feeling floored.

‘And let’s click on some of those links, shall we?’ he said, pressing very precisely on the mouse.

The first was a news website, the second an entertainment site, and the third, a chat room for teenagers. All of them had features or discussions about me.

‘And look. There’s pages of them.’ Jimmy clicked onto the fourth page, and it was the same. ‘And images – hundreds of them.’

Nearly all of them with Leo, I noticed ruefully. It’d been the only time, up until now, anyone had wanted to take a photo of me.

‘You see, my dear,’ he said, putting his arm around me. ‘You hiding yourself away like that – you’ve turned yourself into a sought-after commodity. Everyone’s going to want a piece of you. Not like Kitty.’ He rolled his eyes and gave a shudder as if trying to rid himself of the thought. ‘Between you and me, I can’t
give
her away at the moment, but don’t tell her I said that.’

I stared at the screen in horror. No wonder the Filth Monger – I couldn’t think of him as Nathaniel – had paid those guys off. He must have realised they were sitting on a goldmine.

‘In fact,’ Jimmy sat back down at his desk and spun the laptop back to face him. ‘I think, if you
were
to agree to an interview, we might be looking at a bidding war.’

‘A bidding war?’ I echoed, trying to take it all in. ‘For me?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He sat back in his seat, looking pleased with himself. ‘And that’s just the start of it. I can see great things ahead for you, Grace.’

I just nodded, unable to process the enormity of what he was saying.

By the time I left, I had the feeling my life was never going to be the same. Instead of finding the nearest Tube station, or trying to work out a bus route, I hailed a cab and headed back to Liv’s…in style.

Him

A
s soon as I’d concluded my business with Leo Sparkes, I headed over to the Castle. I was still smarting from the conversation in the car earlier, and I wondered, once again, why I was still pursuing this business with Grace – why I was still pursuing this business at all. It all stemmed back to Aimee, and I knew I was cursed to carry on indefinitely or, at least, until I found redemption – like that was ever going to happen. Aimee was still everywhere, in everything I did.

Even though I knew in my heart it was best I kept away from Grace, for the moment at least, I hadn’t been able to help myself. I’d really thought I was getting somewhere with her, there in the café. I’d done my best to hold back, in the hopes that she might give me some sort of indication of her feelings, and I’d actually thought she was beginning to like me.

Then, she’d come straight out with it in the car. She’d only got in touch with me for my help – because I was the only one who
could
help her. And why did she think that? Because of that damn fool card I’d given her. It was my own fault for being so hopelessly inept, and now there was nothing I could do but suck it up.

And that boyfriend of hers. What the hell had he been doing with himself? The man – if he could be called one – was a mess. The whole apartment was a state – reeked of curry, with beer cans all over the coffee table and some video game playing on the flat screen. He was lost without her, that much was obvious, but his belligerent attitude hadn’t exactly gone down well with some of my men.

Mother was waiting on the steps of the Castle as I pulled up. I wondered how long she’d been standing there. It was gone seven and the sun was low behind the turrets, the steps in shade.

I got out of the car quickly. ‘Mother – where’s your cardigan? Who let you come out here like this?’

‘Let me?’ She turned her cheek up to me to be kissed. ‘I know you think I’m gaga, darling, but I’m still Mistress of this estate, and don’t you forget it. Not your precious Ronnie,’ she added in a stage whisper.

‘Ronnie’s just overseeing things,’ I said. ‘I can’t expect you to run the place when I’m not around. Not with…’ I trailed off, not wanting to upset her with further mention of her mental state. ‘Not with Father the way he is. How is he?’ I added, feeling duty-bound to enquire after the old man’s health.

‘Come and see him,’ she said. ‘He’s quite bright today.’

I allowed her to lead me away from the steps and round to the East wing of the old pile. We went in through the back, into the quarters they lived in now. The main house had too many stairs, was just far too big for the pair of them now. I’d moved them out when my father had become ill, and Mother had started to lose her way…and her marbles. She’d been found in the library, crying and saying she’d never seen the place before. It might even have been true – Father was precious about his privacy – but it wasn’t something the staff felt able to cope with on a regular basis, which it quickly became.

‘There you are, Ma’am!’

It was Mary, their maid. A qualified nurse, she looked after them when the primary staff were on duty elsewhere. Tonight, they’d be needed in the West Wing – a place where only the core staff were allowed. Mary didn’t have that privilege, but she was trustworthy enough and looked after the pair of them better than they liked to let on.

‘I’m sorry, Sir,’ she said, sounding put-upon. ‘If I’d known you were coming, I’d have known where to find her.’

‘I told you he was coming,’ said my mother, disapprovingly.

‘Yes,’ said Mary, giving me an upside-down smile. ‘But you say that every day.’

‘Well…’ I looked at my watch. ‘No harm done. Where is the old duffer?’

‘Naughty!’ My mother giggled. ‘He’s in bed, of course.’

‘He rarely gets up now,’ said Mary, lowering her voice. ‘He’s gone downhill a bit.’