Out of Mind

By S E Upperton

When advertising executive, Adrian Hewitt, gets his Mercedes rear ended on one of the hottest days of the year, he is naturally vexed. Until the young woman springs from her car and suddenly that bad shunt doesn't look nearly so bad. Subsequently, Adrian attempts to smooth things over by inviting her up to his flat where breakdown arrangements can be made, over a drink, naturally! Maxine Harper is no ordinary looking girl, and Adrian is quickly smitten, finding her aloof enigmatic appeal, the fact that she appears strangely evasive about her background, intriguing, if not a little curious.
Thus, he pursues her with the intent to learn all about her. Little realizing that she is the one in pursuit of him. Right down to the carefully executed moment she crashes into the back of his car. And that if he were to take one reflective pause, just long enough, Adrian would come to learn that Maxine is always one step ahead of him. And that each step she takes is bringing Adrian ever closer to his own destruction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781291949575

Book preview

Out of Mind

OUT OF MIND

S  E UPPERTON

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.  The names,

characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the

author's imagination.  Any resemblance to actual persons

living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Sally Upperton 2007-2014

Sally Upperton asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be

reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,

in any form, or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without

the prior permission of the publishers

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty one

Chapter twenty two

Chapter twenty three

Chapter twenty four

Chapter twenty five

Chapter twenty six

Chapter twenty seven

Chapter twenty eight

Chapter twenty nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty one

Chapter thirty two

Chapter thirty three

Chapter thirty four

Chapter thirty five

Chapter thirty six

Chapter thirty seven

Chapter thirty eight

Chapter thirty nine

Chapter forty

Chapter forty one

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Ever woken up beside a dead body.  Now, I’m not just talking about anyone, but someone you adored with a passion.  But then, neither am I talking about death by natural causes.  Say, that of a beloved husband, a beloved wife whose face upon that pillow has slowly but surely aged with the passing of your years together, until  suddenly.  Poof. 

They are gone.

It's an awful scenario, I know.  But none I'd like to bet as awful as waking beside the love of your life to find that some time during the night she received a frenzied stabbing.  And all the while I lay seemingly right beside her sleeping like a baby. 

I expect you’re confused. Well then, perhaps I should start from the beginning.  The beginning being that hot Friday in May.  The day I met Maxine............

CHAPTER ONE

Friday  May 26th 2006

Sat at his desk, Adrian Hewitt forced his mind away from the floor to ceiling glass panelled wall that fronted his office;  from where the blue sky beckoned.  For the past four days the sun had been a constant fixture in the cerulean blue sky, the unseasonable heat absent of even a stir of a breeze.  A far cry from the cold damp drizzle of just one week ago that left most of the streets deserted.  And now what seemed in a blink of an eye, everywhere al fresco style coffee bars were filled to brimming, with everyone it seems, out enjoying the sultry air of summer.

Except for those, of course, who had to work.

And to add insult to injury, the building's air con had broken down;  sometime around noon it was first noticed, when the wretched thing began throwing out hot air and had to be quickly shut down. 

By almost five, the humidity in the building was becoming close to unbearable and Adrian, who'd had to remain behind to tie up a few lose ends, had had enough.  Rising, he was in the process of gathering his jacket from the back of the chair when in waltzed Keith, his young, and it had to be said, feckless oaf of a creative assistant, whose idea of putting in a full day's work usually amounted to a couple of hours morning work doodling, because by lunch time he'd be too busy snoozing off those lunch time beers.  So why the hell the boy chose to ignore the habit of a life time and make his escape with the rest of lily-livered work shy, citing potential heat stroke, was beyond him.

‘O key, this is what I got.'   Began the irritatingly sweat free young lad, whose rousing preamble had largely gone unheard.   'Spoiled, rich bitch of a teenage heiress, say a Paris Hilton look- a- like, drops doting Dad a kiss, telling him she’s just taking her birthday present out for a spin.. …................'

Inwardly, Adrian sighed.  So much for drug enhanced creativity!  Which in Keith's case, once in re-hab, must have flowed in a cathartic rush straight down the pan.

'So, she's cruising along Rodeo Drive.'  Keith gushed on:  'Pulls up outside her favourite shop.  Now everyone is going to assume she's there to shop, right.'

'Well, naturally.'

Oblivious to the sarcasm, Keith went on.  'So she's assessing the parking situation. No where to park.  But Paris is not to be deterred.  With a brazen wink at the camera, she then performs a couple of hair raising manoeuvres until the car's nose is lined up, facing the shop doors.  Now this is where the Mini Cooper makes its grand entrance .......'

No.  Please don't take the car through the bloody shop doors,  Adrian winced, certain it had been done a dozen times before.  Probably around the time Nicole was giving Papa a hard time back in the nineties. But then maybe he was being too hard on the boy.  After all, as commercials went everything was there;  the location, the pretty girl, the glamour; enough glamour to hopefully blind viewers to overused,  repetitive clichés that kind of was par for the course for any advertising agent.  Except, this was Hewitt Bartlett!  The best in the business!  So good, that last year they'd won a British Arrows Award for Commercial Of The Year.  Suffice to say, if you can win an award for promoting the wholly unglamorous product of dog food, then you've gotta be good! 

Suffice to say, Adrian didn't need this crap.

Somewhere a door clicked open.  Adrian's office door.  He'd been so mired in feeling hot and bothered, he'd barely noticed that Keith had stopped talking, was now wearing a silly grin.

'Your Ice Tea.'  Sophie, their mini skirted receptionist, and owner of the finest pair of pins in the company, smiled as she set Adrian's cup down.

'Thank you, Sophie.'  Appreciatively, Adrian looked the girl over.  Some things, it seems, was conducive to the heat. Work definitely wasn't one of them.  Picking up his cup, he looked on as the two begin to flirt.  Keith, all eyes for Sophie as he teases her, with Sophie giving as good as she gets, all the while glancing at Adrian.  And Adrian aware of that come hither look, smiled, dipping his eyes.  No. He would not encourage her. Call it the voice of wisdom, but from his experience office affairs were more trouble than they were worth, on account of the fact that they had a habit of ending, usually at his say so, but always on a sour note, with the wretched girl remaining right under his nose.               

Meanwhile, the flirting had since turned to point scoring as it invariable did.  In other words, was beginning to turn sour.

'.......Because blondes have more fun.'  Keith teased Sophie.  He'd been running his pitch passed her, with the impromptu star of the show, the aforesaid mentioned Paris Hilton now the subject of hot debate.

'M'mm,'  Sophie wrinkled up her pretty little nose.  'Funny how blondes always appeal to the adolescent boy.  Now us brunettes.  We get the man.'  And with a final flutter of her lashes at Adrian, Sophie sauntered from the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Keith turned to Adrian:  'She's needs taking down a peg or two, that one.  Anyway, as I was saying. Oh, yeah, right.  Paris Hilton.  She floors the accelerator, eases her foot off the clutch........'

'.........And as she screeches through the entrance she just manages to grab up that Catherine Walker gown, performs a couple more hair raising spins before screeching her way back out.'

At Adrian's sarcasm, Keith's eyes flashed angrily.  'No.'   He drew the word out long and tersely.  'Its a department store based in a high rise building, and she's heading for the lift to take her fifty floors up to the helipad.' 

'That's some lift.'  Said Adrian.  Then with a dubious squint.  'Look, it's good, but...a bit dated, Keith.'  As Adrian spoke his phone began to ring.  'Glamorous heiresses are out.  It's all city scape’s, the open road, and vorsprung durch tecknic these days.'  Raising a silencing finger, Adrian reached for the ringing phone:  'Hi Jools. Hold it a mo, would you.'  Hand held over the mouth piece, Adrian addressed Keith: 'Why not trade Paris Hilton for upwardly mobile, someone whose reaching for the stars, someone whose fiercely ambitious but shrewd enough to know a good deal when she sees one.'

'Yeah, I think I've gotcha.' Keith said slowly.  Then eyes dipping nastily to the phone:   'How about bimbo chic hares off in mini cooper, into the setting sun, away from dull, ageing Lothario.  And the slogan.'  Keith broke off, smothering giggle:  There are some classics you drive away in.  Some you leave behind.

The barb left Adrian smarting a little, but only just a little. For he only had to remind himself who exactly he was dealing with here.  A rather troubled, immature twenty five year old to Adrian's well seasoned fifty years:  'We'll discuss it further tomorrow, Keith.’  With a wave of his hand, Adrian dismissed him from the room, face tightening as the still smirking Keith went out the door.  He was sure he could still hear him tittering his way through reception as he pushed the receiver back to his ear: ‘Hi sweetheart.  You keeping nice and cool for me………Good........No, no, no, that was just Keith.'   Adrian excused, managing to raise a smile as the subject turned to the weather.  According to Jools it was far too hot for underwear, and on a husky note she was asking Adrian if there was any chance she may get caught in a breeze on her way over.  The little tease!  He was busy picturing the scene when in walked Leonard Bartlett, the second  bearer of the company's title for almost twenty years.  

Quickly, Adrian wrapped up the conversation, replaced the receiver, smiling more than he should at the rotund, suit crumpled, looking Leonard whose right hand clutched the half eaten remains of a Snicker bar:  'Now you look like how I feel.'  Remarked Adrian.

'You couldn't possibly feel how I look.'  Whined Leonard

Well, he kind of had a point there!

Regarding Adrian as he grabbed up his jacket from the back of his chair, Leonard said:  'You off then.'

Adrian smiled:  ‘It’s Friday. It’s been a long week, and one very long, hot day.  And if I don’t take that cold shower in the next five minutes or so I fear I may spontaneously combust.'

Popping the last of his chocolate bar into his mouth, Leonard, looking as glum as ever, crossed to the bin where he disposed of the wrapper:   ‘What did you think of young Keith’s idea, then.'

Tipping his hand from side to side, Adrian words were cautious when he spoke:  ‘ He just needs a little more work on his lateral skills. You know, be a bit more original.'

Hitching his ample rear on the edge of Adrian's desk,  Leonard said:  'Actually, I thought it was rather good.  I rather like the way he twists what's already out there.'  He paused, face turning stony.   'He deserves this break, Adrian.  He’s been clean for over a year now.' 

‘You know he’s got my one hundred percent support, Len.'  Adrian suddenly bridled. ‘But there’s only so much I can take.  That the company can take.  He cost us a big contract remember, and it was a wonder we didn’t have the police on our backs, let alone the press making hay of it.'  Just at the thought, Adrian felt his insides constrict.  Just how stupid could any kid be to date the eighteen year old daughter, a wannabe model who’d been given her first big break to appear in Daddy's commercial.  The contract of which was signed, sealed but put on hold because young Keith decided to boost their foreplay with a cocktail of drugs that resulted in the  girl winding up in A&E.  As big a blow the fiasco had been, Adrian had to concede that the repercussions had been relatively light.  Leading him to suspect that once again, Leonard had paid off his son’s infraction.

'At the costly reminder, Leonard dropped his gaze.  Let a moment of deep discomfort, his ultimately, pass, before affecting a supplicatory note.  ‘Just take a leap of faith, Adrian, that’s all I’m asking.  The boy can’t do better than his best.  And this time I really believe he's determined to make a go of it.   So....... lets just try and put that little incident behind us, shall we..........'

At that, Adrian almost laughed.  For it was a bit like Tony Blair saying. O key,  so I lied about  weapons of Mass destruction.  But hey!  Lets just put that little incident behind us, shall we. 

'........ You know how hard it can be to recover from a bad knock.'  Leonard was saying.  'That's why I'm asking you.  Imploring you to give him the encouragement he so badly needs. You know how he looks up to you.'

Yeah, like I'm the biggest pile of shit he's ever seen.  Still, at the catch in the old man’s throat, Adrian covered his hostility towards the man’s gross naivety by murmuring something that sounded half way agreeable as he  adjusted his shirt collar.  Unlike the formally dressed, albeit rumpled, Leonard who wouldn’t dream of loosening his tie, even in this abominable heat, Adrian favoured well cut designer suits, with his shirts left open at the neck:  ‘Christ, you wouldn’t believe it was only May.  It so damn hot.'  Adrian remarked,  feeling compelled to change the subject, since Leonard’s testiness, he was sure, was amping up the temperature by another ten degrees.

Leaving the side of the desk, Leonard began stretching his aching back:  'You got anything planned for the weekend?'

‘Since it’s going to remain hot, I thought I’d take my old tug up the river.' Adrian’s old tug, just happened to be a pristine 64 foot, fly deck cruiser named aptly enough  AD 1, moored on the waterfront of his apartment block in Canary Wharf:  ‘What about you?'

‘Oh just taking it easy till Sunday. You going to Matt’s barbecue’?  Leonard was referring to the company's finance director, a close friend of Adrian who was throwing a house warming party on Sunday.

‘Yeah, I’ll be there, replied Adrian, tone resigned: ‘If I can bear another day of this humidity.  I swear I'm losing two pints to every one I drink.’

‘From what I gather Matt’s covered every eventuality to er....  um..........'.  Leonard's voice trailed off as Sophie, like a breath of fresh air, breezed in.  Lasciviously, he looked the girl over: ‘Like a lift, Sophie.'

‘Err…thank you, but my boyfriend’s picking me up,' Sophie declined sweetly as she hastily retrieved Adrian’s empty cup from his desk. Then in a blink of an eye, was gone, the door clicking shut after her.

Still watching the door, Leonard remarked: ‘Nice girl that.'

‘Must be for you for you to lend your one and only precious fan and risk heatstroke.'

Stepping outside Hewitt Bartlett house, situated on the waterfront of Canary Wharf, Adrian glanced up at the sky which had since deepened to an eerie dark indigo blue, heralding the likelihood of a storm.  He crossed to his car, a blue convertible Mercedes SLK which he’d left parked under a tree with the top down in one the bays specially reserved for each of the company’s three directors.   At the exit, he turned left into Marsh Wall road, and proceeded the couple of minutes journey it took to get to his apartment.  He could have walked, of course.  But for no other reason than wanting to drive with the top down he indulged himself.  Because that is what one did on a fine day.  You treated your car to a little Al Fresco, ever aware that by the next fine day the roof's mechanism most likely would have seized from lack of use. 

Flicking his left indicator for Admirals way, he was about to turn into his road, when, without warning,  he was violently thrust back in his seat, the crumpling sound of metal and bumper colliding, registering in a dismayed,  'Shit!'  Recovering a little, Adrian turned towards the rear of the car to see a red mini cooper, of all things, half way in his boot.  He was in the process of leaving his car when the driver sprang from her car.  No Paris Hilton, but a very tasty brunette, he could not help but observe, despite the heat, the bad shunt, and his heart that was only just beginning to recover.

‘God, I’m so sorry, I - I can't think what happened,'  the girl blurted breathlessly.

Leaving his car, Adrian, walked to the rear of his car, paused a moment to examine the damage:  ‘Well fortunately for me it felt a lot worse than it actually looks.  Though from the looks of it.'  He gave his fender a nudge with his foot.  'My boot’s probably totalled.’  He was about to check to see if still opened, when realizing he was forgetting his manners.  He turned to the girl.  ‘But more importantly, are you all right?' 

‘Well I’m alive,' she answered, on a shaky laugh. She looked to her vehicle. ‘Which I fear is more than can be said for my car.’ 

‘We'd better try and separate them.'   At once, Adrian slid behind the wheel of the Mini. He turned the ignition over.  The engine started up, but not without an unhealthy clattering sound coming from the bonnet. He put the car in reverse, and slowly eased his foot off the clutch, just enough to disentangle the two mangled wrecks.  The mini drove, but only just.  He looked to the girl. She was now ducked down level with the driver’s window:  'I wouldn’t advise driving her home.'  Involuntarily his eyes dipped to her cleavage,  the tan of which stood out in pulse racing contrast against the white of her low V neck dress.  Quickly, he averted his eyes:  ‘Do you belong to any of the breakdown services.'

‘Oh god, no I don’t!' 

‘Never mind.'  He paused as though to think:  ' Well now, we can’t leave your car here on the road, can we.  You see that building there.'  He pointed ahead of him. 'That's where I live.  You get behind the wheel and follow me.'

'But will it drive?'

'Should do. If not, I'll have to push while you steer.'

Leaving the mini, Adrian held the door open for her, watched her slip behind the wheel, hitching her skirt up as she did so.  She was dressed in a long, flowing white muslin dress, the front cut so daringly low that it had to be some kind of designer feat to spare her from her blushes. Or perhaps he just hadn’t got lucky yet.  Mesmerized, he didn’t realize he’d been staring until she turned to look at him. No use making excuses now, he’d been well and truly caught.  Giving a sheepish smile, he left for his car.

Accelerating away, Adrian turned into Admirals Way, driving the short distance it took to get to the visitors parking bays of his apartment block, all the while checking his review mirror to ensure the girl was following him;  the mini was kangarooing a little, engine still clattering.

Pulling into a small parking area set at the side of the building that backed onto the waterfront, Adrian drew his Mercedes to a stop, gesturing for her to park alongside him. He cut the engine, watching her bring the car to a halt.  Watched the way she blew through her lips in a gesture of protest at the heat; her light feathery fringe flaring up as she did so. Everything about her was drawing his attention, even the heat induced listless way she eased herself from her car, flapping a hand to her face as she did so.

‘Phew, it’s so hot.'

With one quick appraisal of her, he estimated her to be somewhere in her late twenties, maybe early thirties.  ‘Certainly too hot for making breakdown arrangements,' Adrian retorted.

Her face immediately sagged:  ‘Oh I’m….I’m sorry. I really am.  Look, if it's too much trouble I can easily……..’

‘Forget it,'  he quickly cut in.  ‘Besides these things happen, and anyway it was more of a gripe at the weather.  And besides, I can't see you getting very far since your car appears to be leaking oil.’ 

The girl followed his gaze:  'Damn!  And I've just only had it serviced!'

For a moment, Adrian looked uncertainly about him:  ‘Look I err,  I live just up there on the top floor.'  He began to smile:  'Now I’m not usually in the habit of inviting strange ladies home.  But under the circumstances.'   Abruptly Adrian broke off, began theatrically shaking his head as if he’d just committed the worst of faux pars. ‘What am I thinking of, inviting a girl up for a drink while we sort through breakdown services, without first introducing myself.'  He extended his hand:  'My name's Adrian. '

‘And I'm Maxine.'  The girl smiled sweetly, extending her hand.

Once in the lift, Adrian pressed for the thirteenth floor. The lift door slid shut.  It was then Adrian became acutely aware of the nearness of her.  She was turned slightly to him, no more than a few inches space between them. So close, he was certain he could feel the heat of her body, and for the first time was aware of her scent; a dash of something that did little to mask the natural scent of her, which was kind of sweet, womanly.  Kind of oppressive too.  For it seem to fill the small, confined space, smothering the very air.  From the corner of his eye, he felt sure she was giving him a veiled look.  He stole a glance. They're eyes locked, and a pulse of desire shot through him, locking what little breath he had left in his lungs.  As if unable to break the trance, he held her gaze, acutely aware then of a heady, rhythmic throb pulsing deep within him.  The kind one feels in the  thrall of desire. The kind one definitely does not want to experience in lifts with lone women.  Fleetingly, the word pervert sprang to mind.  But another deeper look into those eyes that were large with promise the word began to dim.  Maybe everything did just then, because all he could think about was those eyes and the effect they were having on him. 

Until.  Ping.

'I er...think your floor's arrived, Adrian.'  Her smile seemed to mock him.

‘Er  this way,'  Adrian gestured.

Entering his apartment, Adrian led Maxine through to the sitting room. 

Drawn to the patio doors she looked out at the city scape.  Clearly, she was not into art and design. For not once had she taken stock of his apartment which boasted richly varnished wood flooring, some specially selected objects ď art  from Sotheby's, the two wine leather couches,  an Afghan rug, so fine in texture it could have hung from the wall.  Set against one side of a cherry wood sideboard, stood a butterfly palm, the opposite end an alabaster bust.  Alongside the partially open plan kitchen stood a glass dinning table complete with high back soft burgundy leather chairs.    

Adrian crossed to a sideboard:  ‘What will it be.'  He opened the door and extracted two tumblers.

‘Whatever you’re having,'  she replied, without even looking at him.

‘Martini’?

‘Yes, a Martini would be good.'

Fixing their drinks, Adrian sensed her watching him, which had the disconcerting affect of sending his hopes soaring, and damn it, had him humming some silly tune.  ‘The ice is in the kitchen. Won’t be two shakes,'  he smiled, more at the idiot he'd suddenly turned into, and left the room.  Once there, he took the ice pick and began breaking the ice, hoping the feel of cold ice against his fingers would cool the heat that was burning within him.  But all he got was cold fingers.  And still those eyes were upon him. He could sense her through the arched divide watching him.  He flicked her a look.  Although in silhouette he could discern that her head was tilted as though she was studying him, kind of curiously, but totally uninhibited.

Back in the sitting room, he crossed to her and proffered her glass.

'Thank you,'  she said,  her fingers lightly brushing his, before shifting her gaze back to the terrace:  ‘Great view.'

‘The best.'

Returning her gaze to him, she suddenly smiled.  ‘I expect you must think me a terrible driver.'

‘Oh the worst!'

‘Actually, for once my driving skill or rather the lack of it wasn’t entirely to blame.'

‘Well, next time you decide to take up rally driving, young lady,  choose someone else's car to play dodgems with.'

Maxine chuckled  ‘Actually, I think it may have been a combination of the weather and the fact that my car air con’s broken down.  You'd think the car mechanic I had service it would've checked, wouldn't you.  Sometimes being a girl's a drag.  Bet if I had been a guy he wouldn't have cut corners.’

'Couldn't you have got your boyfriend to take it in.'  he fished.

'You saying a girl can't take care of herself.'

'No. I'm saying that sometimes a girl gets taken advantage of.'

'By even the weather it seems.  Actually, I think I may have come over a little faint back there.  Something to do with low blood pressure, so I've been told.'

‘But you’re all right now.'

'All right in a physical sense, yes.  It's just my pride that's injured.' She took a sip of her drink. Then with a small wry chuckle:   'Not to mention the damage I've done to both our cars.'

Mesmerized by the fullness of her lips and the deep, vivid blue of her eyes, Adrian only realized he’d been staring when her eyes suddenly dropped from his.  ‘Well,' he said ‘I’d better arrange that tow truck for you.'  He moved away, over to the hands free set on the sideboard.   Before picking it up he fished in his wallet for his AA card, lifted the phone and punched in the number.  Straightening, he waited for the line to connect, his eyes lifting to Maxine as she turned back to the patio to sip at her drink, now profile to him  ‘Oh, er, yeah I’d like to arrange for a tow truck, please……’  Such was her appeal he found he could barely concentrate on the controller’s inquiries.  Too busy watching her as she dipped her hand into her glass, withdraw an ice cube, and lifting it to her throat, began trailing it down the front of her neck,  stopping just shy of the valley between her breasts. The gesture so sensual, he almost dropped the phone.  ‘Sorry, could you repeat that, please........... Yeah, an hour would be great, er fine,'  he amended, mishearing the controller's within the hour assurance.  He then gave his name, address, details of the two vehicles involved, set the phone down and crossed to her.   And in that split second on reaching her, he honestly couldn’t say, in retrospect, what possessed him. He pulled her roughly to him, crushing her to his chest as his mouth sought hers, her  neck, her breasts.  His murmurs of pleasure drowning out the gasp that suddenly tore from her throat. 

God, she was as hungry as he.

Her moans began to grow more urgent as her body began moving hard against his, her hands everywhere, moving up to his chest.  Until in one rapid movement she shoved him hard away from her.

Staggering back, Adrian stared.  She was stood there looking stunned, scared, breathing hard.  Oblivious to her exposed breast.

Oh Christ, what was he thinking?  He’d almost raped the girl!    ‘Forgive me, I- I’m sorry,' he stammered.  ‘It’s just that you’re so….so lovely. I'm sorry but I misread.....'  Embarrassed, his words trailed off’.

'Misread!'  she gasped,  watching his eyes still feverish with want, drop to her exposed breast.  Quickly she drew the top of her dress together:  ‘I -  I think I’d better go.'   Hurriedly she grabbed her bag from the side of the sofa.  Then in a whirl, was gone.

For what felt like an eternity Adrian stood rooted to the spot.  Until a groan of dismay escaped him.  Never had one woman got him so fired up, and just the thought that he’d been almost too carried away, to the brink of no return, sent a chill flooding through him:  ‘Jesus,'  he muttered.   What had got into him.

Quickly he refilled his glass, gulped it down, and refilling it moved out onto the terrace. Leaning over the balustrade,  he looked down to the walkway, thirteen floors below, which at present lay deserted.  He wondered if she'd already fled in panic, racing back up to the main road as if in fear for her life.  But then she suddenly appeared,  not fleeing as he expected, but quite casually, her hand lifting to her hair to loop it round one shoulder.  Next, she adjusted her dress, smoothing it down.  Clearly appearance mattered, even in the aftermath of attempted rape. 

Watching her then, Adrian debated whether to go down and apologize.  But then decided against it.  If she was too shocked to be angry back in the apartment, then she surely would be now.  Watching the last of her disappear round the corner, he left the terrace for his bedroom, stripped off, then headed for the shower.  A cold shower!

Later that evening, Jools lay in Adrian's arms, a small frown marring her pretty face.  Normally on entering his apartment, Adrian would kiss her tenderly, pour her drink, and they would exchange pleasantries before, either retiring to the bedroom, or would dine first. Occasionally, they didn't always make it to the bedroom.  But even then Adrian had always been kind of.......gentlemanly.  And tonight had been no exception.  They'd talked awhile over a drink, had dined on a meal of griddled steak in brandy sauce, then retired to the bedroom.  In that order.   Everything fine, as it should be. Except when Adrian had made love to her. Yes, that had definitely been different. Gone was his usual finesse for an urgency she'd not known before, which no more than a few seconds ago she'd found exciting, flattering even. 

That was until the cogs began to turn. 

And now after a thorough analysis, she decided the change in Adrian had occurred almost immediately. The moment she'd entered his apartment, in actual fact.  Because although they'd talked as they usually did, in hindsight, it all seemed a little forced on his behalf. Moreover, there had been an uncharacteristic distance in him, as if his mind had been elsewhere. 

And a sense of disquiet washed over her.  For she did not want to lose this man, despite the fact, that in essence,  he was a paying customer, a fact that she constantly had to remind herself of, that Adrian was no different from the others.  But he was different.  Very different. For no other client possessed the kind of  urbane charm that Adrian possessed.  To Jools he was the pick of the crop.  More than that, against her better judgement, she'd fallen for him. Hook, line and sinker.  

Disentangling herself from Adrian, Jools eased herself up against the leather headboard, unable to conceal the fact that she felt deeply wounded, the exaggerated huff she gave then as she folded her arms across her chest, not meant to go unheard.  Indeed, such was her distress she'd clean forgotten her place.  That as far as emotional attachment, fidelity, all those privileges that were conferred upon a conventional relationship, she had no right to.  Because the bald fact of the matter was that Adrian was entitled to do as he pleased.  He had no obligation to her any more than she did to him.   It's just that when she thought about the host of beautiful girls he worked with she couldn't help acknowledge that stab of jealousy, despite the  fact that he’d vociferously insisted that he would never get involved with an employee.  Of course, she had never asked him outright. But a few years in this game and one boyfriend too many had taught Jools how to extract information without looking as though she were prying too deeply. After all, Jools knew her place;  up to a point. That moot point being when her emotions generally got the better of her.  Like tonight on acknowledging that Adrian was different, and that that difference could only be attributed to another woman. The threat of which had always instilled a sense of dread in her.   That he should fall for someone romantically, or even if the attraction was based on pure animal lust, she knew her days would be numbered.   And as a consequence, her ache for a life she could only dream about, that someday he would come to his senses and make her his wife would end.  And with it the considerable allowance he afforded her. ‘Adrian,' she spoke his name softly.

Laying prone from where he’d rolled off her, Adrian managed a grunt as he lay still breathless from his climax. A sheen of perspiration had broken out on his back.

‘What was that all about.' She asked, voice plaintive.

That caught his attention.  Quick as a whip, his gaze cut to her, stared a moment before shifting up onto his elbows ‘What was what all about?' He turned the question back on her. Then before she could reply, brushed a hand over her breast  ‘Surely you’re not questioning the best sex we’ve had in ages.'

‘Yes but with whom........'?

'Eh!'  His face was one of pure bafflement.

'Because it certainly wasn't with me, Adrian!  You barely looked at me all night. In fact, ever since I walked through the door.'

'That's nonsense.'

'I wish it were,'  she answered, looking quite injured

Sighing in frustration, Adrian sought for something to say. Then pushing his hand through his hair.  'Jools, it's been a bloody hot day, and its the end of the week. I really don't need this. I mean, how exactly have I offended you?  By having a good time, which I'd like to think was at least half way reciprocated.'

'That's not the point.'

'And what exactly is the point?'

'You!  Because it's not like you to be soooo......'  She sought for the right words to say. Then turning doleful eyes upon him:  'It's as if you were on fire, Adrian.'

'And you're complaining.'

'No, not complaining.  Just wondering who could ignite such passion in you.' She harrumphed.  'Especially since when I got here you've appeared, deaf, dumb and blind to the very presence of  me.' 

Groaning long and loud, Adrian dropped his face to the mattress.  'You girls and that tendency you all have for adding two and two and coming up with five.  You have to have an answer for just about everything, don't you.'

'No. Adrian. Us girls, we just like to know where we stand, that's all.  You were clearly fantasizing about someone,'  she said, scrambling from the bed.  Pulling a  Kaftan over her head, she began raging as she did so.  'Lets get one thing straight, Adrian. When you have sex with me, I expect it to be with me.'  She concluded by jabbing an angry finger at her chest

'Jools.'  Adrian held out his hand.  'Come and sit down.'  He patted the edge of the bed, and Jools sat down, her eyes giving the look of someone desperate for placation.  And since Adrian was all for an easy life, he obliged.  'You're a good girl, Jools. The best. But.......don't you think you're forgetting our little arrangement.'     

With a jolt, Jools stared.  He'd never brought that up before. Never in all the three years they'd been together had he brought that up.  For Adrian was a man of finesse, he would never have stooped to embarrass her with, what essentially amounted to the cold,  hard details of bought sex.  And now that he had, it was all her fault. Because she'd forced his hand. With artifice, Jools assumed a rueful smile:  'Couldn't you have stopped at the best.  Then did what only she could do when words would fail her.  She rolled him onto his back, eased herself on top of him until she was sat straddling him. She stared down into his face. ‘You’re a good lover, Adrian. The best.' She said, voice thick with emotion. Then face taking on a pained expression.'  But I,'  she faltered, only to feel Adrian's finger upon her lips.

'Lets leave it at The best,  Jools. Before we wind up having another row.'  Pulling her head down upon his shoulder, his gaze came to rest on the window opposite, eyes growing wistful as he thought about the girl and how her chestnut coloured  hair had caught the fire of the sun as it hung it waves about her shoulders.  A girl who couldn’t look more different to the one who was  now sprawled on top of him, whom with her cute little impish face and short curly blond hair