Hooked By Love (13 page)

Amber

In the backlash of my more than successful witch-hunt against Berkley-O’Neil, I sat exhausted after work. All the dirt we had on them was instilled in the public, ready to spread like a terminal disease, and it was inspiring to see how many people finally had the guts to step up and speak out on the unfairness that the property thugs had perpetrated through their unjust methods.

Sipping some of Jen’s tea at my desk, I leant back, taking it all in. Still, I tried not to pat myself on the back too much for instigating this little revolution, because at the end of my swift and accurate cutlass was the blood of someone I cared deeply about, regardless of what I told myself or how I justified the hell I’d brought down on his company. On one hand, it wasn’t his fault that a callous and greedy group of shareholders was handling the business of the company he’d inherited, but then again, he was a grown man and he had choices. I had no idea how to put my guilt at ease while enjoying my small victory.

‘Jen, I’m going to go home, all right? Can you hold the fort for the next thirty minutes?’ I called out to my giddy colleague, who was talking up a storm with a politically likeminded journalist who was somewhat overstaying his welcome.

‘Sure thing, Amber.’ She winked at me after she excused herself and hurried towards me. ‘I just need the keys and those files from you.’

‘What files?’ I asked, but she hushed me.

‘I just want to sound like we have a lot more to do tonight. He’s a bit clingy, but he’s growing on me, so who knows what’ll happen later,’ she explained in a naughty whisper that had me giggling.

‘Oh, the web of deceit, how intricately it can be woven,’ I teased.

She playfully slapped my arm.

I gave her the office keys. ‘If you lose these …’

‘I know, I know, you’ll stop pretending you like my tea or something. Now go home, hero. You’ve worked hard at the helm of this tank, calling the commands in this war. Go and relax for once, ’kay?’

She was right. I deserved the break and I didn’t have to feel guilty about anything we’d achieved or the way in which I’d launched my media attack. All of it was strategy. The world wasn’t a ball of cotton wool, after all.

‘All right, I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay in too late. It gets dangerous around here,’ I advised her as I pulled on my coat. I shouldered my bag and gave the young journalist a nod as I passed him.

‘Bye, Amber,’ Jen said and I simply waved without looking back.

It was true. I was absolutely exhausted, and not just from the days of planning, researching and arrangements. Emotionally, I was tapped.

When I arrived home, from my car window I could see the security gate to my block of flats was open. I exited my car and walked tentatively towards my building. A jolt of panic coursed through my body at the odd and suspicious sight in the shadow of the night.

‘If the O’Neils are trying to scare me,’ I sang monotonously to ease my nerves, ‘it is surely working.’

I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket and held my finger ready to dial the police should something lunge out at me from the tall brushes near the entrance. Under the full moon behind the tides of cloud that passed over it, I scanned the area to discern any kind of motion in the communal garden. Visions of old Jack the Ripper punished my composure as I tried to convince myself I was being stupid.

‘You’re just being silly, Amber,’ I whispered. ‘And if there is someone, they’ll come out soon enough. Call the police. Call the—Oh Jesus!’ I cried out.

A figure came into view, static, staring in my direction. I started to turn my body, getting ready to run, when the security light came on.

‘Josh?’ I frowned.

He put up an open hand in greeting.

With my fear of being murdered forgotten, something much worse replaced it.
Oh God, he’s coming to give me a talking to. Maybe I should call the police first, just in case he’s here to take revenge.

But he looked distraught, not aggressive. I moved towards him, still wary of his surreal presence.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.

‘I’m sorry to barge in like this, but …’ His words vanished as they caught in his throat. ‘I don’t know where else …’

‘Hey, it’s okay. Come, let’s go up to my flat. I’ll put the kettle on and make you a coffee?’ I replied, getting a strong whiff of brandy from his breath. I was still clutching my phone. I couldn’t trust him completely after what I’d done to him and his company, but I really wanted to, and my jumping heart betrayed my suppressed glee at seeing him again.

‘I think I need one.’ His voice was barely audible. From the way his body stooped, something weighed heavily on his mind and it made me feel terrible.

We walked up the two flights of stairs in silence. Once inside my flat, Josh wandered aimlessly around, looking at my wall art while I made two cups of coffee.
I’ve destroyed his life and he’s too nice to just come out and say so. Either that, or he’s playing the victim card to make me feel guilty while he’s actually pissed beyond words.

I passed him his drink and said gently, ‘Let’s go and sit outside while it’s still mild.’

He took his glass and gestured for me to lead the way. Jen had gifted me some lights for my roof terrace a few weeks ago, which I’d skilfully attached along the edge of the wall, and I switched them on one by one.

‘Wow, this looks lovely,’ he said as he dropped onto a wooden chair.

‘I’m not done yet.’ I lit three candles on the small wooden table. Josh slid off his jacket and placed it on my seat next to him like a knight of old.

‘I can’t sit on your coat, Josh. I’ll ruin it.’

‘I insist,’ he said.

He lacked his usual playful suave confidence, further sinking the warship I’d been so proudly navigating these past few days.

‘What’s the matter?’ I asked, refusing to take responsibility for my part in tearing up his life and reputation, too guilty to admit I felt really bad for what I’d done to him.

‘Domestic problems.’ He cast me a look with those enthralling eyes that left me weak. ‘I’m failing at everything these days.’

Oh my God, I feel so awful!
my thoughts screamed behind my caring expression.

‘You’re not a failure and you know it,’ I replied. ‘Look at all you’ve accomplished.’

‘None of that’s important compared to my nephew, who I’ve failed every day since my sister died.’

My hand flew to my mouth. ‘Oh my God, Josh. I didn’t know.’

He was so lost in thought he hadn’t heard me speak. ‘I feel as if I’m letting him slip through my fingers. No matter what I do, or how I approach him, he just locks me out,’ he explained, his breath-taking blue eyes looking pristine in the faint glare of the romantic light.

‘How old is he?’ I asked.

‘Sixteen,’ he replied hopefully, as if it were somehow a magic word that could unlock the boy’s behaviour to me.

‘Tough age,’ I said dampening his enthusiasm. ‘When did his mother die? Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’

He waved my apology away.

‘It’s okay. I’m here because I need to talk to someone. My sister committed suicide. My brother bullied her and my parents when they were alive. He dismissed her mostly because she fell pregnant at eighteen … and they were all so bloody perfect, you know?’ His voice broke.

I just nodded, not about to break his train of thought.

‘I feel like I’m not doing enough to get him out of his shell, to show him how much I care. I was so wrapped up in my own life, travelling the world and having fun while Claire was teetering on the edge of a chair with a fucking noose around her neck.’

My chest ached, empathetic to his bare sorrow. I placed my hand on his as tears drowned his clear eyes and fell onto his cheeks.

‘And now I’m abandoning Zack by throwing myself into my work instead. Some uncle, aye?’

‘Wait, Zack is Zack O’Neil? Of course,’ I said to myself as I remembered the handsome young man who had been hanging out with Paul recently. I’d thought he looked familiar. It all made sense where those anonymous files had come from—not that I’d say a word about it to Josh.

‘Yes,’ he said, almost recovered from his dread. ‘Do you know him? He was at your protest.’

‘Yes, I remember him. What a small world we live in.’

Josh looked better from that small revelation, as if my knowing his nephew gave him some support that helped him carry the immense burden of his sister’s suicide and his perceived part in her fall from sanity.

‘I’ve spoken to him quite a few times. He’s an intelligent young man. He just seems very reserved, but most kids his age are,’ I said.

‘He told me he’s gay and that he thought I would … throw him out onto the streets because of it.’

‘Oh, so he did tell you.’ I took a sip of my coffee. ‘That was a big thing for him, you know. It shows he trusts you despite everything else that’s going on around you.’ I stroked his arm. Praising his ability as an uncle seemed to cheer him a little, but his eyes were tired—beautiful and weary.

‘I’d better go. I don’t even know why I came here.’ He pushed himself onto unsteady feet.

I stood with him and faced him. He looked so sad. It took every ounce of control not to pull him into my arms and comfort him.

‘Josh, I think you should stay the night. You shouldn’t be alone,’ I said, not thinking of how it sounded like an opportunistic pick-up line.

He simply swayed from side to side. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’

A few minutes later, we were lying on my bed, fully clothed. I closed my eyes as his hands caressed my hair and his warm breath tickled the hairs on my neck as he held me close. Under the same moonbeams that had scared me barely an hour ago, I lay still and listened to the heart-wrenching sound of him crying until sometime later, he finally fell asleep.

Amber

In the morning, the sound of Josh’s light snoring by the back of my neck awoke me. Having a man in my bed was surreal; it had been such a long time. Morning light shown through a sliver in my curtain. Josh’s hand was resting on my breast, while his face was buried in my neck. I wanted to laugh but refrained to keep from waking him up. I carefully slipped his hand off my breast to slide out from under him. I was dying for a strong cup of coffee, so I made quick work of my reluctant escape.

‘Where are you going?’ he asked as I headed toward the bedroom door on my tippy-toes.

‘Sorry,’ I whispered and turned. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you up.’

‘I wasn’t sleeping.’ He smiled mischievously.

I gasped in mock exasperation, placing my hands over my breasts. Josh threw his head back and laughed out loud.

Oh my goodness, you even look great in the morning.
I revelled in his perfect features; his black tousled long hair and dark eyebrows perfectly complimented the shadow of stubble over his dimples and those startling eyes pierced mine again.

‘Can I take you out for breakfast?’ he asked.

‘Okay, but just toast. I’m not big on eating until lunch,’ I replied as I sat on the edge of the bed.

He glanced at his watch. ‘Seeing as it’s ten thirty, let’s skip breakfast and I’ll cook you lunch … at my place,’ he offered. ‘What do you say?’

I answered in a beat. ‘I say yay!’

‘Do you mind if I take a quick shower?’

‘Nope, feel free. You can even wear my dressing gown if you like.’

He eyed my pink gown on the back of the door. ‘Would you be offended if I pass on this occasion? Pink’s not really my colour. I’m more of a yellow sort of guy.’

He slid out of bed.

‘Okay, I’ll let it go this once,’ I said before directing him to the bathroom.

Minutes later, I heard the shower turn on. I couldn’t help but think about how all this would play out. After I’d launched this crippling campaign against him, he still, essentially, sought solace with me? Was this a trap? Was it—no, if it were a trap, he would’ve used my body to get to me, wouldn’t he? He hadn’t even tried to have sex with me last night. Either he was a patient hunter or he honestly wasn’t out to trap me.

I had to admit I was tempted to
accidentally
need something in the bathroom while he was showering, just to see where it would lead and maybe get a glimpse of what I was up against. But I felt like a hypocrite, constantly accusing him of being out to bed me when I was the horny one. I gave myself a proverbial rap on the knuckles for it.

Rather than work my mind into a dirty ditch, I elected to wash the few dishes cluttering up my small kitchen. By the time I’d packed away the last plate, Josh came to join me.

‘Wow, you don’t waste any time in organising. Are you a neat freak?’ he said fiddling with his zipper as if he’d read my earlier thoughts.

‘More of a control freak,’ I informed him, tossing aside the dishcloth. ‘Tidiness is a sign that I am in control of my—’

‘Chores,’ he added.

‘—priorities,’ I corrected in amusement.

‘You look beautiful, Miss Cross,’ he said in a moment of quiet contact. He looked down at me with his mesmerising eyes. They were laughing, even though his mouth wasn’t, and his gaze sank deep into my soul, confusing my aforementioned priorities—at least the professional ones.

‘Thank you, Mr. O’Neil,’ I replied cordially and welcomed his lips.

His hands fell on the small of my back and pulled my body against his.

‘Shall we go?’ he whispered in my ear as I virtually melted into his embrace.

***

After picking up a few things from the supermarket, and stopping for Nutella crepes and hot chocolate with whipped cream and smarties, it was early afternoon when Josh and I set off to his house. He was adamant about cooking me a three-course lunch, regardless of my protests.

‘Seriously, I wouldn’t mind just having a toasted cheese sandwich, after filling up on the crepe,’ I insisted.

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t, but today you’re my guest, so I’m cooking,’ he retorted playfully. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t poison you for destroying my professional reputation.’

‘Oh my God, you just said that out loud,’ I told him, astonished.

‘That I wasn’t going to poison you or that you’ve managed to give my company a bad name?’ he asked casually.

‘Josh!’

That was all I could manage in my embarrassment and amazement. How could he just come out and call that spade a spade? Was I supposed to detect some hostility there, or was he really just joking? My stomach knotted up. For the first time while in his company, I had no idea what to say or how to formulate a response, not a fitting one anyway.

‘What?’ he asked as we sped along the streets of his neighbourhood. ‘Don’t pretend that’s not what you were out to do. Besides, as a businessman in a cutthroat world, I have to commend you on your success in doing so.’

I was dumbstruck, but Josh seemed unfazed.

‘Amber,’ he said.

‘Yes?’ I answered, waiting for some sort of deathblow.

‘I understand why you did what you did. I really do. If I were in your shoes, I would have probably done the same thing.’

I stared at him, examining his expression for any sort of deviation from his words but found nothing false in his face. He meant what he’d said. He knew why I attacked his company, he commended me on my victory and he felt comfortable enough to say so outright. In our renewed relationship, wasn’t this a good thing? Why did I always fight positive developments? Paranoia of entrapment, emotional or otherwise?

‘Here we are, my palace,’ he said with pride. ‘I hope Aggie left the whisky out.’

‘Aggie?’ I asked.

‘Agatha, my housekeeper. She’s like a mother to me,’ he told me. ‘But she likes to hide the Scotch and Jack Daniels, because she says it makes me melancholy.’

‘Are you planning on being a miserable host?’ I asked as I gawked out the window at the stunning gardens and tall trees leading up to the garage.

‘That would be impossible, because you’re here,’ he said matter-of-factly.

‘I’m flattered.’

‘You’re like portable, itinerant happiness.’

He casually got out of the car without even waiting for my response. His brutal honesty truly took me aback, even those parts which made me uneasy.

The house was beautiful inside, elegant but in an understated sort of way and not at all what I’d expected. The placed looked lived in—not the type of showroom-style house that looked vulgar and screamed ‘look at how rich I am’.

‘You approve?’ he asked.

‘Are you crazy? What’s there not to approve of?’

‘What?’ His gaze followed mine, as I looked around with wide eyes.

‘It’s just … I thought your house would be all marble floors and golden chandeliers.’

‘Oh God, no! Even if I had a sheik’s money I wouldn’t sell out my sense of style like that.’

Impressed, my gaze roamed over the wooden staircase and the grandfather clock I passed. The kitchen was big, but true in keeping with the style of the rest of the house, it was quaint and functional.

‘Now, you can help me, but I’m still the head chef. I call the shots,’ he told me as we unpacked the ingredients.

I had peeled a lot of potatoes, washed a lot of vegetables and poured more than enough wine by the time everything was cooking away on the stainless steel stove.

The front door opened. Josh and I exchanged glances.

‘Expecting someone?’ I asked.

Zack walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. His face was like that of a trapped animal at the sight of me in his uncle’s kitchen.

‘Hi, Zack,’ I said lightly.

‘Hey, Amber,’ he said without hiding his shock. He grimaced at his uncle.

‘What’s wrong?’ Josh asked.

‘You! Are you spying on me now? You just had to infiltrate the one place I can go to get away from you?’ Zack shouted.

‘Look Zack,’ Josh started.

Zack turned away from him and looked at me. ‘Not everyone falls for your charms, Uncle Josh. Some of us can see right through you.’ He stormed out of the kitchen.

‘See?’ Josh asked me. ‘You see what I have to put up with? What did I do wrong this time?’

‘You didn’t do anything. Let me see if he’ll talk to me.’ I placed my glass of wine on the counter and went in search of Zack. I cornered him outside the doors of the back patio. ‘Hey, are you okay?’

‘No. No, I’m not. He even had to take you, Amber! First he tries to destroy the centre. Now he’s taking you too, leaving me with no one to run to!’ His eyes were wild revealing his hurt.

‘Sit down.’ I gestured for him to join me on the bench. ‘I understand how all of this looks but it’s not what you think. I think we all got off on the wrong foot and I’m not blameless either. All of this could have been avoided if we’d all acted using our heads instead of our emotions.’

‘So you’re saying you don’t care if the centre closes.’

‘Oh God, no. Of course I do. I only wish I would’ve dealt with things a bit better from my end. I’m not saying it’s right but your uncle runs a business. Buying and knocking buildings down is what they do. I suppose if it wasn’t your uncle’s company, it would have been someone else one day. Change is inevitable. It’s just that some people deal with it better than others.’

‘But what about the doc—’ He stopped.

‘The documents you gave us were very helpful. There were many wrongdoings, which I hope will be put right because of your actions.’

‘Did you tell Uncle Josh it was me?’

‘No, and I never will.’ We sat in silence for a few minutes and I stared up at the blue sky waiting for him to speak.

‘Did he tell you about my mum?’

‘Yes. This must be so painful for you both—’

‘For us both? He doesn’t care. He won’t even talk about her. It’s like she never existed.’

‘Please believe me when I tell you this: your uncle is hurting, deeply. Adults are a funny bunch of people. He thinks by him being strong, he’s helping you. He thinks he’ll be letting you down if he shows any sign of weakness.’

‘He told you that?’

‘He didn’t need to. I can tell by his actions. It’s not every day I get grown men crying on my shoulder.’

‘He cried?’ he asked incredulously.

‘Until he fell asleep. I think he’s leaving the ball in your court. He’s waiting for you to go to him.’

Zack looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve been horrible to him. I said I wished he was dead instead of my mum.’

‘Grief makes us say things we’d never normally say to another person. We lash out because we want them to hurt as much as we do.’

‘I can’t believe my mum left me.’

‘What your mum did, Zack, it wasn’t to hurt you. To the ones left behind, it can seem like a selfish act, but no one can know another person’s pain. In the end, not even you could save her, so how do you think your uncle was supposed to?’ I deliberately compared him to Josh to show him that they were in the same boat. ‘She loved both of you very much, and neither of you have any fault in her choices. Only she had the power to save herself, and she chose her way, sweetheart, not Josh’s, and not yours.’

He looked past me. Josh had appeared in the doorway behind me while I was talking. They stared at each other for a long while.

‘It’s true. I miss her so much, Zack. You’re all I have left of her,’ Josh admitted.

Zack showed no aggression towards Josh. He was quiet, at peace. He pushed himself to his feet and fell into Josh’s open arms.

‘I’m sorry, Uncle Josh.’

‘So am I,’ Josh said, squeezing Zack tighter.

Josh gave me a grateful nod over Zack’s shoulder and I gave him a thumbs-up.

Lunch was remarkably relaxing. Zack, Josh and I enjoyed the cool air outside while we ate over the large glass table on the patio. It was good to see the two of them carry a normal conversation without any of the hostility she had witnessed earlier.

‘I can’t thank you enough, Miss Cross, for everything you’ve done,’ Josh whispered in my ear as he stood behind me while I packed away the leftover food.

I didn’t resist when he wrapped his arms around me and instead leant back into him. He planted two small kisses on the nape of my neck. My senses spun. Josh stirred my passion more than any man ever had. His lightest touch on my skin drove me crazy with desire.

I inwardly groaned when Josh released his hold on me when Zack walked in. I would be quite content to stay in his arms forever. I straightened and self-consciously fussed with my hair. Zack gave me a knowing look and the corners of his mouth quivered in a grin.

‘Did you tell her, Uncle Josh?’

My gaze moved from one handsome face to the other. ‘Tell me what?’

‘That I’ll do everything in my power to stop the eviction,’ Josh said sincerely. ‘And I mean everything.’