Authors: J. L. Perry
There’s something special about her, and I’d be a damn fool to let her go.
Excitement flows through me when the driver stops outside the hotel and I have an unfamiliar bounce in my step as I head into the lobby. The woman behind the front desk gives me a flirtatious smile as I pass. She’s pretty, but has nothing on my Jade.
‘Mr Weston,’ she calls out as I pass, heading to the lifts. I turn. She better not hand me her number. Coming around from behind the desk, she says, ‘I forgot, I have a note for you. Miss Davis left it at reception for you earlier.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, taking the envelope from her. I smile when I see ‘Brock’ neatly written on the front. Sliding it into my pocket, I head for the lift again.
I stupidly forgot to get Jade’s phone number this morning. My common sense seems to elude me when I’m in her presence. Our lunch plans are still up in the air, so I’m gathering the note has something to do with that. Rupert’s been pretty obliging about us being together, so I’m confident he won’t stand in her way today.
When the doors to the lift close, I press my floor number. I want to get changed out of my suit before I go and see her. I slide the envelope out of my pocket, smiling like a damn fool as I open it.
My heart drops when I read what it says.
My Dearest Brock
,
I’m sorry. I’ll never forget you
.
Jade
.
She’s kissed the page underneath her name. It’s the same shade of red lipstick she was wearing the day she ran into me at the airport. My fingertip skims lightly over the imprint of her lips before I press the number of the floor she’s staying on. When the doors finally open, I find myself practically running towards her room. Rupert must’ve said no to her having lunch with me today. He can deny her all he wants, but I’m not giving her up without a fight.
A hotel cleaning cart is sitting in the corridor and the door to her suite is open. I enter without knocking. I can still smell Jade’s sweet scent, lingering in the room.
‘Can I help you, sir?’ the cleaning lady asks.
‘I’m looking for Miss Davis. The lady who’s staying in this room.’
‘I’m sorry, she checked out earlier this morning.’
My
head starts to spin as I try to wrap my mind around what she’s just said. ‘What about the man staying in the room next door?’
‘He checked out as well. I’ve just finished cleaning that room.’
I screw the letter in my hand into a ball, and clutch it to my chest. This can’t be happening. She wouldn’t just walk away from me like this. Or would she? I exhale a deflated breath as my shoulders slump. A crushing pain, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, settles in my chest.
She’s gone
.
*
I spend the rest of the day locked away in my suite, a vast array of emotions running through me: shock, hurt, rage, confusion, despair. After leaving Jade’s room, I’d headed back down to the reception desk. I needed to make sure she wasn’t staying somewhere else in the hotel. I then tried calling all the other hotels in New York, to see if there was a Jade Davis staying there. That’s when I broke out the bottle of scotch—I needed to be numb.
I pull the crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket, smoothing it out with my hand. I read it over and over, but the words won’t sink in.
I try to make sense of what I’m feeling. Maybe it’s only because I’d never felt the sting of rejection before. But even I know that’s a lie. My feelings for Jade run deep—her disappearance was a shock to my soul. That fact is only cemented when I lay on the bed.
The
scent of her still clings to the bedding, and like the pathetic pussy she’s now made of me, I clutch her pillow to my chest and don’t let go until I eventually pass out.
BROCK
To
say I’ve had a crappy fortnight would be an understatement. I’m still consumed with thoughts of Jade, and I hate myself for that. Part of me wants to forget I ever met her, the other part of me knows that’s never going to happen.
What I had with her was special. It was like nothing I’d known with any other woman. I honestly thought she felt that too. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.
‘Mr Weston,’ Amy says through the intercom. ‘Theo James, your 3 pm, is here.’
‘Thanks, Amy. Send him in.’
Amy knocks once and pauses briefly before opening the door. I’m not sure why she does that. Maybe it’s because she caught me buried balls deep inside Renee, my father’s secretary, last year. I had her bent over my desk as I gave it to her from behind. It was awkward all around, I guess, but it didn’t stop me from finishing what I started. It took Amy a good week or two to make eye contact with me again. I chuckle to myself as I stand. I’m lucky she’s a good sport because she’s a great secretary. I’d be lost without her.
‘Mr Weston,’ Theo says when he approaches my desk.
‘Mr
James.’ I extend my hand to him. ‘Call me Brock.’
‘Theo.’
‘Take a seat,’ I say.
‘Thank you.’
‘So, I believe you’re a friend of my brother’s.’
‘I am,’ he says. ‘I frequent his bar.’
‘Good,’ I reply, leaning back in my chair. ‘I believe you’re in need of some security for your development sites.’
‘Yes. The current company I’m using seems to be falling short. I have a range of expensive equipment and building supplies that remain onsite when the builders knock off. In the past few months the incidence of theft has risen dramatically.’
‘Well, that’s something we can definitely help you with.’ The majority of our dealings are corporate based, but we can easily accommodate Theo’s request.
We spend the next hour or so going over the layout of his sites, including all the finer details. When he’s satisfied with my suggestions, the meeting comes to an end.
‘I look forward to working with you, Theo,’ I say when he stands. ‘I’ll have Amy draw up an appraisal, and then we can discuss this further. If you have any questions in the meantime, just call.’
‘I appreciate you agreeing to take this on.’
‘Any friend of Joshua’s is a friend of mine.’
He smiles. ‘Listen. I’m having a party at my home next weekend. I’d love it if you could come. Some of my investors will be attending, as well as my board members. I think it will ease their minds if I can introduce you to them, and explain what your company has planned. These thefts are proving to be quite costly. Everyone’s a little on edge.’
‘That’s
understandable. Give all the details to Amy on your way out. She can pencil it into the diary.’
‘Thank you. I will.’
After making a few notes, I page Amy into my office. ‘Could you type up a proposal for Mr James, please?’
‘Of course,’ she says, taking the folder out of my hands.
‘I have that charity function tonight, so I’m going to head home early. Can you organise for my driver to meet me downstairs in thirty minutes?’
*
‘I’ll have a scotch on the rocks,’ I tell the waitress when I take a seat at the bar. This is the first time I’m flying solo at one of these events. I didn’t have it in me to bring a date. There’s been no one since Jade.
I’ve tried to forget her, but I haven’t been successful. I know in my line of business I could easily track her down, but I decided against it; I need to keep what little dignity I have left. She knows my name and I told her where I worked. If she wanted to find me she could, but it’s fucking obvious she doesn’t. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt by that.
I’m pathetic
.
Fuck her. This shit stops today. Brock Weston doesn’t pine over women, and he sure as hell doesn’t chase after a piece of arse either.
Keep telling yourself that, buddy
.
‘So, you decided to leave your whores at home tonight.’ I don’t even need to look to see who it is. That annoying voice gives it away.
‘Fuck
off, Clarissa. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.’ I hear her gasp beside me and a satisfied smirk forms on my lips. I’m not usually this harsh with her, but she picked the wrong night to be a bitch.
‘What’s up your arse?’ she says, taking the stool beside me. I choose to ignore her. ‘Looks like someone isn’t getting enough. If that’s the case, you know I’d be more than happy to help you out.’
Her hand comes to rest on my crotch, but I instantly remove it. That’s one place my cock will never go.
‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ I grab my drink off the bar and walk away.
I’m sure my dry spell is partly responsible for my rotten mood. I’ve never gone this long without sex before. That’s only a very small part of my problem, though. A certain green-eyed brunette who ran from me just when I was getting to know her is the real reason. And I can’t seem to wrap my head around it.
I make my way towards our table. My mother is sitting there on her own. Figures. My father’s probably casing the room, looking for his next lay. My heart goes out to her, because although I hate the weak person he’s turned her into, she’s my mother and I love her regardless. She’s been to hell and back, being married to that prick. Why she puts up with his shit and continues to stand by him, I’ll never know. Maybe that saying, love is blind, has a ring of truth to it.
‘Brock,’ she says. Her face lights up when I bend down and kiss her cheek.
‘Mother. How are you?’ I barely have anything to do with her nowadays. Ever since Josh came to live with me, things have been strained. I’m not comfortable with our
situation, but my parents’ actions towards my brother were inexcusable.
‘I’m good, sweetheart. How’s your brother?’
The question instantly gets my back up. It’s the first thing she always asks me. I usually say, ‘He’s doing really well,’ but tonight I’m in no mood for this bullshit.
‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’ I try to hide the venom in my voice, but fail miserably. She bows her head and doesn’t reply. It’s obvious she still cares for Josh, so why she lets my father dictate to her confuses me. I wish she’d stand up to him. This whole mess is tearing both Josh and our mother apart. Our father, on the other hand, is too wrapped up in himself to care.
I sigh before downing my drink in one gulp. Everyone seems to be getting on my nerves tonight. I think I might fake a headache and blow this godforsaken joint.
JADE
Yes
.
I do an inner fist pump when I receive my working schedule for the next few days. My lucky streak continues. Through some grace of God, in the three weeks since returning from New York, I’ve been fortunate enough to only be assigned to those of my clients who don’t expect sex. I’ve given a few blowjobs, but that’s it. I know it can’t last, but every day that passes where I don’t have to give my body unwillingly to a stranger is a blessing in my eyes.
I still belonged to Mr Weston—for the interim at least.
I’ve struggled since returning, but I’ve been trying my best to put Brock out of my mind. Do I miss him? Hell yes. Do I regret walking away from him? Of course I do. But I learnt at a very young age there’s no point wishing for something you know you can never have. Memories are forever, though, and I’ll treasure the time we shared. Nothing and nobody can take them from me.
Sadly, a memory is all it will ever be. If M were to find out what I’ve done, there’s no telling what she’d do. She already suspects something’s up—she made Rupert take me straight to the house the day I flew home from New York. Of course
she wasn’t concerned that I’d cut my vacation short because I was ill, she just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to affect my ability to work.
I was physically and emotionally exhausted when we landed, but grateful that Rupert allowed time for me to fix myself up before we got into the car. No amount of makeup could cover the bags under my eyes, but I did the best I could.
‘Leave us,’ M had snapped when we entered the house, flicking her hand at Rupert. I could already tell by her tone that she wasn’t in a good mood. Nothing unusual for her. Like me, Rupert did as he was told. I wasn’t even worried about what was to come when I’d followed her into the parlour. I felt numb.
‘What is this all about?’ she asked, abruptly turning to face me, the permanent scowl she wears prominent.
‘I was feeling unwell in New York, so I decided to come home.’
‘Have you seen a doctor?’
‘No. I think it’s just a bug. I’ll be okay.’
‘You better be,’ she snarled. ‘Get on the scales.’
Removing my shoes, I did as she requested. I knew I hadn’t been following my meal plan, but I didn’t really care. I was over this. Over my life. Over M. On a positive note, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to eat on the flight home, so maybe that would be enough to get me over the line.
I wasn’t paying attention to the numbers on the scale, so when her hand connected with my face, hard, it knocked me off balance. It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t even flinch.
‘You’ve put on two hundred and fifty grams!’ she screamed.
Whoop-de-fucking-do. Two hundred and fifty grams. I was in no mood for her bullshit.
‘Maybe
I need to confiscate your passport to teach you a lesson.’
I shrugged. ‘Do what you like, I don’t care anymore.’
The look on her face told me she was surprised by my outburst. I’d never backchatted her before.
‘What did you say?’
Squaring my shoulders, I stood tall. ‘I can’t do this anymore. I hate my life. I hate you.’ My confession surprised me. It’s something I never thought I’d say out loud.
She was in my face in an instant. The murderous look in her eyes should’ve frightened me, but it didn’t. Her hand came up, latching tightly around my throat.
‘You ungrateful little bitch. You’d be nothing if it wasn’t for me. You’d still be the piece of scum you were the day you came to live here.’
That’s where she was wrong. I’d be everything I’d wanted to be if it wasn’t for her. I may have been poor and unfortunate, but I was never scum—I was a victim of circumstances, nothing more.
Her grip on my throat tightened as she pushed my head roughly back into the wall. I tried desperately to take some air into my lungs. It was no use—my airway was completely restricted. ‘The only way you’ll ever get away from this profession, from me, is in a fucking body bag. Understand?’