Chapter 82
At one of these interminable ‘drinks dos’ I am expected to attend, I do my best to put on a polite face.
But I’m having trouble.
I have the mayor on one side, “Since the ns were made public for the new City-Scapeyout the
share value has soared, Richard….”
And my head of corporatew on the other. “There are still some legal obstacles to ovee….”
argues Lazenby.
I am unsympathetic. “That''s what I pay you for.”
What I pay you a lot for….
…. So, stop whining and do your job.
Listening to the mayor droning on, I nod politely, trying to appear interested but, in fact, my attention is
half on the gathering at the other side of the room.
As Charlotte and Elizabeth are chatting by the bar. Michael arrives, strolling across the lounge with that
easy half-smile that is his habitual expression. Charlotte spots him and moves aside to make room for
him.
“Hi, Michael.” Elizabeth''s eyes are bright as she looks up at him.
He returns the smile. “Hi, Beth. Lovely to see you.” He holds her at the shoulders, giving her a quick
peck on the cheek, but no more, then moves to hook an arm around Charlotte’s waist.
Aplete gentleman….
What she wants from him is a table ender….
How do I feel about that?
Astonishingly, I find I don’t mind.
“Hi, Michael. How ‘ya doing? Your usual?” The barman holds up a bottle.
“Sure. I''m doing good, Matt. You?”
“Oh, can''tin….” Matt pours a beer into a frosty ss. “….and if I do no-one’ll listen.” His face
falls. “Evening, Mr Alexanders. What can I get you?”
James, sober-faced and leaning heavily on a cane, makes his way to join the group. “I’ll have the same
thanks.” Michael pushes a bar stool his way and he eases a hip over the seat.
Trying not to be obvious about it, I watch Michael, how careful he is of Charlotte. His attentiveness. His
obvious care.
James too, of course, but James is her Dom and the difference shows. He expects herpliance.
Michael is much more rxed….
My attention, all unwilling is pulled back to the tedium of my own group. The damnwyer is still
whining at me. “We need to ovee the environmental objections to the ns.”
“What environmental objections?” I snap. “Thend is already brownfield; old industrial or derelict, the
area is like a demilitarised zone and….”
“The report that came outst month disputed….”
Beginning to be impatient, “That sted report was sponsored by Hatheringtons,” I point out. “They’re
still sore that we got in first. And that we have a better Technical Director than they do.”
“…. so on current projections,” drones Lazenby, “assuming the estimated costings are urate….”
I interrupt. “They are. James showed me the breakdown. They’re well thought through and unless
somethingpletely unexpected crops up….”
Lazenby nods in fake humility. “That being the case, we can expect gross profits around thirty-three per
cent, andt of around….”
And my brain tunes out again in sheer self-defence.
I look once more across the room where Elizabeth is standing by the bar with the Threesome. The four
of them areughing and joking and clearly having fun….
Michael passes a flute to Elizabeth, and another to Charlotte, but all the while wearing a broad grin as
he tells some story. I strain to pick out the words….
“Yeah, so I was chatting to Chloe….”
Elizabeth interrupts, looking intrigued. “Sorry, but who is Chloe? An old girlfriend?” She casts across to
Charlotte, then bites her lip….
Wondering if she’smitted some faux pas….?
But Charlotteughs it away. “Not exactly. Chloe is an old friend of Michael’s.”
Michael winks. “And James….”
James’ usual sombre face quirks in a smile but he doesn’t speak.
Elizabeth looks between the two unlikely-seeming friends. “Am I missing something?”
Charlotte leans in close, whispering something close by her. I can’t hear it, but Elizabeth’s jaw drops,
and she looks between the two men, a hand raised to her mouth. “Both of them? And…. you don’t mind
Michael seeing her? It doesn’t bother you?”
Charlotte shrugs and Michael slips an arm around her waist, kissing the top of her head. “That was
then.” He winks.
Elizabeth still looks bbergasted. “But… James too?”
James says nothing, merely sipping at his drink, eyes crinkling. His injured leg outstretched, he leans
on his cane as he props himself on the barstool. He looksfortable and I’m happy that I’ll have my
architect back in harness soon enough.
Michael continues the story that now has Elizabeth and Charlotte in stitches. Even James begins to
crack a smile.
Again, I strain to hear over the blue-bottle buzzing of thewyer.
“…. so anyway, Marcie was there and made a y for Kris….”
“For Kris?” gapes Charlotte. “Doesn’t she know what he’s like?”
“Apparently she had some bet about being able to take on any Dom in the club… Anyway….”
Charlotte bursts outughing, and James'' mouth is twitching.
“…. so, Marciees racing out from the dungeon, clutching her bra and knickers in one hand and
screeching that Kris has blistered her ass. She dashes behind the bar and starts grabbing sses and
throwing them at him….”
Charlotte is creased up. Elizabeth is staring in astonishment, a hand pressed to her mouth.
“…. the bouncers grabbed the pair of them and threw them both out on the street.”
“So how did it end?” Even James isughing broadly now.
” Oh, Borje and Daniel were there. They offered to walk her home.”
Elizabeth, as she gets the sub-text, finally copses withughter and Charlotte, somehow, is both
leaning in James’ direction and has one arm hooked through Michael’s. Repeatedly, she nces
between the two of them and back again, obviously taking the camaraderie entirely for granted.
James, still chuckling, nces my way, his eyes wandering over the sourpany I’m keeping. After a
long moment, he cocks his head, raising his ss to me.
Nothing could suit me better. “If you will excuse me, Mr Mayor, my architect is trying to attract my
attention.” With vast relief I abandon the gathering, leaving them to gnaw over the bones together.
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Charlotte beams a wee at my arrival.
“What are you drinking, Richard?” asks Michael.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having. It seems to put a smile on everyone’s face.”
Elizabeth slides her way into my arm, but her eyes keep wandering to Michael.
She''s curious.... Intrigued
Come on, admit it to yourself...
You''re intrigued too….
And a part of me longs to be a part of this family.
What can I bring to this that they don’t already have?
After a while, Elizabeth and Charlotte break away. I have no idea what they are talking about, but both
pairs of eyes keep looking our way, and I notice that James and Michael look just as ufortable as I
feel at the asional fits of giggles ….
I never think of Charlotte as a giggler….
…. Or Elizabeth….
But they bring something out in each other….
As James and Michael do in each other….
Where could I fit in…?
“All going well with the spa project?”
“Absolutely!” Michael breaks into a broad smile. “Having the cash in there to grease the wheels has
made all the difference. I don’t think you’re going to regret your investment. I know you’re the expert in
this kind of thing….”
I interrupt him. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. We simply have different skills in life. Different approaches to
what we want.”
He scratches his forehead. “How do you mean?”
“Alright, Michael, straight answer. James and I are both sessful men in our different ways. Which of
us would you say is the more intelligent?”
“Um….” He flushes. “Since you ask, James actually.” James stares at the ceiling.
“I’d agree,” I say. “So how is it that I’m the billionaire. He wants to be wealthy, so why is it that I have
more money than he does?”
Neither James nor Michael speak. And I can practically hear their thoughts….
Where the fuck’s he going with this?
In for a penny….
I continue. “James’ issue is that he doesn’t read people….” He raises his brows but seems disinclined
to argue. “You don’t get inside their heads,” I say to him. “On the other hand….” I swing a finger across
the two of them. “Michael understands that.”
“I’m not a billionaire either,” he protests, “Not even close.”
“There’s more than one way of being an alpha….”
Can I say this to him…?
“….. As I understand it, until fairly recently, the main thing you wanted out of life was women.…”
He colours up. “Um, yes.”
“You were sessful?”