Crossing the Line Read online

  “Of course I can ski,” she replies as if I’ve said something crazy. “Before Oliver was born your father and I would go every three months or so.” Her mouth twitches and her face lights up. She looks like she’s planning something? What? “We can go.”

  If possible my mouth falls open further. “Come again?” I mutter.

  “We’ll go. We’ll have a mother and daughter’s holiday. Won’t that be exciting?” No. “Let me know when you can get a week off of work, and I’ll book somewhere.”

  “She can have a week off whenever she likes,” Aden pipes in. I glare at him out of the corner of my eye, and he smiles, both proud and amused. Oh it’ll be hilarious when I rip your balls from your body.

  “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Aden. How about next week, Amelie?”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa! “Um.” I blink in shock. Is this happening? I feel railroaded. “Don’t we have a lot on right now?” I ask Aden, giving him a ‘say yes you arsehole’ look.

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  I force a tight smile and Mum’s face lights up. “Oh, I can hardly wait. I would love to spend some time with you alone.” I almost fall off my chair. Really? She’s never wanted to spend time alone with me. I don’t even think she likes spending time with me when there’s a room full of people.

  “Me too,” I reply, half meaning it.

  Maybe it will be good for us, but maybe only one of us will come back.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I can’t believe I’m going on holiday with my mum. Skiing too. My mum skiing.” I shake my head as my mind literally refuses to conjure that image. A few days ago if someone have told me I’d be going away with my mum I would have slapped them over the head with spade and laughed in their face.

  Aden turns in his chair. We’re in his office going over a contract for the band he took me to meet at the run down pub. “You’ll have a good time. Perhaps it’ll give you the chance to see your mum isn’t that evil after all.”

  “I’m not saying she sacrifices toddlers or anything, just that she treats people that don’t have money like something on the bottom of her shoe. I hate that.”

  “I know you do. I hate it too.”

  “And she wants me to be some trophy wife.”

  He snorts. “You’re much too… interesting to be a trophy wife.”

  I narrow my eyes. Interesting means weird or screwed in the head. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you have your own mind.” He almost makes it sound like a question as if he’s trying to find the answer that’ll get him in the least amount of trouble. There is no such answer, Ford! “I’m in the doghouse, aren’t I?”

  “Yes you are, but if you buy me Mexican for dinner I’ll forgive you.”

  He laughs. “Done. Now, can we please get through this?”

  “Sure,” I reply and turn my attention back to the contract. “You have to deal with a lot of contracts.”

  “Tell me about it,” he mutters. “But we’ve had an influx of money since Dublin so I can afford to sign at the rate I want.” He lowers his head and gets stuck in, biting his bottom lip.

  I smile, but I can’t quite get fully into it. My mind is stuck on the holiday with my mum. Aden has told me million times that my mum is really not the heartless witch I think she is. We’ll see.

  “Millie?” Aden’s voice pulls me out of my internal thoughts. “Babe, we really need to do this.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Okay, where were we?”

  In the end, Aden sends me to make coffee because he needs caffeine hit and so do I. We’ve been going over the contract all day and making little changes to send back to the band.

  “Amelie, good afternoon,” Richard says, rinsing his mug out at the sink.

  I smile at Aden’s dad. We’re on good terms since dinner at Aden’s when I didn’t make a huge scene and walk out. “Hello, Richard.”

  “My son’s got you making the coffee, huh?”

  Isn’t that what women are to you? Coffee bitches? “Yes, he’s busy.”

  Richard nods. “Are you excited for your ski trip?”

  “I am. It’ll be nice to get away for a while.” I am looking forward to it; skiing is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but I’m not sure how it’ll go being with Mum. I scowl internally. I really do need to give her a chance. Maybe we can connect and find a way of having a mother/daughter relationship.

  “Yes, it’s always nice to have some relaxation time. I’m thinking of going away soon too. Collette would like to visit Thailand again so we’ll probably go there this year.”

  “That sounds amazing.” I’m green with envy. I’d love to go to Thailand. It’s gloriously hot there, although the women are all beautiful so I’ll probably feel like a troll.

  “It’s a beautiful country, Amelie. You should get Aden to take you.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Anyway, I must get on. I’m sure you’re busy too.” He nods his head as he leaves the kitchen, and I pop the coffee pods in the machine.

  I take our drinks back to Aden’s office and sit down. “I’m almost done. Think you can sit beside me and look pretty while I finish up?” he says, smirking.

  I narrow my eyes and hold out his mug up. “Think you can dodge this coffee before it burns your face?”

  With a deep chuckle, he pulls my chair closer. “I’m kidding. I actually need you to file these please.” He slaps his hand on a stack of papers that weren’t on his desk when I left. He’s finding random stuff for me to do so I won’t interrupt him. Hell if he wants peace I’m more than happy to go back into my office and Internet shop.

  Deciding to be a good PA for a bit – even though taking orders from him makes me want to smash things – I place his coffee on the coaster and grab the pile. “Sure.”

  “Have your coffee with me first?”

  “I thought you needed to get that done?” I ask, nodding my head towards the contract.

  He takes the filing from me and places it back on the table. “I do, but I can spare a few minutes for my girlfriend. Sit with me?” I can’t resist his pouty lip, and I stay. “I’ll miss you getting in my way around here.”

  “Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “And I’ll miss you bossing me around.”

  “I am your boss.” I know. I have issues with that, but I can deal.

  For the rest of the day, Aden keeps me busy with stupid little tasks that I know bore him. Still, it’s good to have something to do.

  Aden and I sit around his coffee table eating Mexican food. “So are you going to miss me when I’m away?” I ask.

  “You have no idea how much.”

  My heart races. I’m going to miss him too, like crazy. I’m so used to seeing him all day every day and most nights too. “Good. No finding new PAs while I’m gone either.”

  “No finding new bosses to drive up the wall either.”

  “Am I really that bad?”

  He shakes his head and then nods. “High maintenance doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. You know that.” He has said that before but I don’t completely believe him. Surely, he’d want an easier girlfriend? I don’t want him to be stressed with me, but I’m not going to change who I am for anyone. Just like I’d never expect him to change who he is.

  “Good,” I reply. “Are you finished?” He nods. “Good again. Bed. We’re spending a week apart, so I need it at least four times before tomorrow morning.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re so demanding.”

  “You complaining?”

  “Definitely not.” Aden jumps to his feet up, picking me up with him and throwing me over his shoulder. I squeal in surprise and slap his back. “Four times, hey.” Oh yeah.

  I sigh when it’s time to say goodbye. Dad gives Mum what looks like an awkward hug, but I know it’s only because they aren’t really down with PDAs. I turn to Aden and pout. “Will you be here when I get back?” I ask.

  “Well I’ll probably leave
and then come back.”

  “Hilarious,” I mutter dryly.

  He laughs and wraps his arms around me. “Of course I’ll be here. Have fun.” He kisses me briefly, and I’m left wanting more. “Try not to kill your mum, and don’t let any other men near you. I love you, Millie.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Come along, Amelie,” Mum says, effectively ending my moment with Aden.

  Mum and I make our way into the first class lounge to wait for our flight, and even though I know Aden is still behind me I don’t look back. If I do, I won’t be able to get on the plane. I already miss him like crazy. Knowing I’m not going to see him again for another week makes me feel nauseous.

  Maybe I should move in with him? If I’m missing him so much after a few minutes, then spending whole nights away from him when I don’t have to is going to be horrible. At the minute, it’s not too bad, but that’s because I’ve spent practically every night at his.

  “Hopefully the flight won’t be delayed,” Mum says.

  “I’m sure it won’t be.”

  We sit down, and she picks up a magazine. “Well it better not be.”

  Our flight isn’t delayed, but that doesn’t stop Mum complaining that it’s taking so long. She’s the one that insisted we arrive earlier than what we need to. She is utterly ridiculous. It hits me like a fat kid on the Atkins diet. Perhaps I am like Mum. We’re both stubborn when it comes to what we think. Oh God.

  I walk like a zombie as we board the plane. Me and Mum being alike. No, I’m just being stupid. Plenty of people are stubborn. It’s not like we’re the only ones with that trait. We’re different. Very, very different.

  “Champagne, Amelie?” Mum asks, waving her hand for a flight attendant. She might as well have just clicked her damn fingers and shouted, ‘You. Peasant. Come.’

  “Sure,” I mutter, looking out of the window so no one will see how embarrassed I am. Why can’t she just smile when someone looks her way or say excuse me to get their attention? “That’d be great.” Alcohol is definitely the answer when dealing with Elizabeth Cohen.

  The plane ride is smooth. It’s nice not to crash out of the sky and plummet to my death. We’re only about another ten to fifteen minutes from landing and Mum has just ordered our sixth glass of champagne. My head is light, and I’m feeling pretty damn happy.

  “Mum,” I whisper and giggle because I actually have nothing to say.

  She smiles, amused. “What, Amelie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I help you, Mrs Cohen?” the flight attendant, who now knows us by name, asks.

  “I ordered two more glasses of champagne.”

  She smiles. “Yes, my colleague is just opening a new bottle. It will be with you in one minute.”

  “Oh good,” Mum says and turns to me. She has been doing that a lot after the third glass, looking at me and smiling. I always thought a dark witch froze her face in a frown but apparently she smiles. Perhaps her sour face was just for me, pre Aden.

  “If we drink too much more, we’ll stumble off the plane.”

  “Oh, Amelie, we’re on holiday. We can stumble wherever we please.” Okay, she’s redeemed herself a little there. I make a mental note to keep my phone in my pocket so I can film the stumbling, though that isn’t something I’d ever be able to forget if it happens.

  Thankfully we aren’t wrecked when we get off the plane and make it to the gorgeous hotel built into one of the gorgeous Italian mountains without incident. Everything is built from stone and looks like a place you want to be staying in. Inside is traditional and warm. A blazing fire in the bar beside reception lights the room with an orange glow.

  “Mum,” I hiss. “Does it really matter?”

  “Yes it does. I requested a view of the mountains.”

  “We’re in the middle of the mountains. There is no other view!”

  “I didn’t pay for the view we have. Those mountains, if you can call them that, are not what I want to see when I look out of the window.”

  I throw my arms up in defeat. Christ she is ridiculous. The hotel is set into one of the mountains, and because our room is facing down our view is of mountains below us. Which, apparently, isn’t good enough for my mother.

  “I’m going to call Aden and tell him we’ve arrived.” I want no part of her pathetic whining anymore.

  Aden answers on the first ring. “Eager,” I say. “Or desperate.”

  “I miss you too,” he mutters sarcastically.

  “She’s driving me crazy already. Our room isn’t good enough because it’s looking down the mountain and not across. This was a bad idea. The poor receptionist looks like she’s about to cry. Come and get me!” I demand.

  He laughs, and I wanted to kick him in the shin. “Millie, chill. Ignore it and try and have a good time. When are you skiing?”

  “Never. Come and get me.”

  “You’re being silly.”

  I can practically see his grin, and it makes me smile. “Fine. But if I end up shoving her off a cliff, it’s your fault.”

  “Try not to murder your mum, babe. I’ve got to go. I’m meeting the guys at the pub.”

  I sigh. “And so it starts.”

  “Yes, because I plan on picking up a couple girls,”

  “Hmm, that’s nice for you. Just remember I’m the one on holiday with all the hot Italian men. Bye, baby,” I say sweetly and hung up. Ha!

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I sit on the soft, tan leather sofa by the blistering fire and wait for Mum to sort out her mountain view issues. Not something I thought I’d ever have to wait for. As much as I want to run to the aid of the receptionist, I have a solid week to spend with her. The receptionist should feel for me, not than the other way around.

  My phone beeps and I know it’ll be Aden. With a big fat grin on my face, I open the text message. ‘I will break the ‘sexy’ Italian legs of any ‘sexy’ Italian men that glance your way.’

  I laugh and put my phone back in my bag just as Mum turns around, looking for me. I want to jump behind the sofa – or in the fire – so she won’t see me, but we’re here together. Sighing, I stand up. “Mum,” I call, holding my hand up so she can see me easily.

  “What are you doing over there? Come along, we’ve got a new room.” Of course we have. They’ve probably turfed someone else out of the room just so they can shut Mum up. I would if I were them. It’s just not worth it.

  I follow Mum through the grey stone corridors, trying to remember the way out. Being here still seems like a dream, or nightmare depending on how it goes.

  Our suite is enormous. It could easy house a family of four. Along one whole wall is a large grey stone fireplace, which dominates the lounge area. Two two-seater dark tan leather sofas face said huge fire and behind them is a small kitchen area.

  I can’t wait to chill here in front of a blistering fire after a day skiing. My double, four-poster room is next to Mum’s, separated by a narrow bathroom.

  I pick up a leaflet from the table. “They have a spa, Mum.”

  “Of course they do,” she replies. Right, silly me.

  “Would you like a cup of tea before we go down?”

  My first thought is ‘hell yeah’ and my second is, ‘Mum can make tea?’

  As it turns out, she can. I have no idea when she learned to make it; she’s always had staff to wipe her backside for her. I almost suggest she gets a job in a tearoom until I remember I have to spend a whole seven nights with her. Again, it’s just not worth it.

  “Okay, let’s go and get fitted for the equipment. I’ve arranged for you to have an instructor for the first three days,” she says once we’ve finished being stereotypical Brits and having tea before we can move.

  “Just three days?” Won’t I need more than that if I don’t want to ski off the edge of a cliff? And I don’t. “Will that be enough?”

  “That will be plenty. It’s not difficult once you know the basics.” What if after three day
s I still don’t know the basics?

  “And you can ski?” I ask. She’s told me a few times that she can, but it doesn’t seem real. My mother doing something physical, that isn’t shopping or ordering people around.

  “Yes, Amelie. How many times am I going to have to tell you that? We’re meeting your instructor in a half an hour. Come on.”

  Half an hour is a damn long time when your mother spends it talking at you. We finally get fitted for our boots and skis and go to find my instructor. I like her when she’s on holiday, although she’s not entirely relaxed her whole manner is softer.

  “Would you like me to wait?” Mum asks.

  “No,” I reply. “I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you after.”

  She nods. “Very well. Have a good day and remember to listen.” Before I can even think of anything to say, she is gone. Much like how she appears.

  “Hello. Miss Amelie Cohen, isn’t it?” Turning around, my eyes bulge at the tanned gorgeousness that’s before me. “I’m Alessandro, and I’ll be your instructor for the next three days.” Alessandro is tall and dark with a chiselled jaw and piercing dark brown eyes. And he’s an instructor so under that evil ski jacket is a six-pack. He is the definition of Italian Stallion, and I get to spend three days with him.

  If I wasn’t with Aden I would have spent my three days with Alessandro in a very different, but equally as physical, way.

  “Hi.”

  “Okay, if we go over there,” he says, pointing towards a wide, shallow hill near the equipment hire shack. “That’s the learners’ slope and where we will spend today.”

  “Okay, great.” I shuffled forwards on the skis, and it was fine. This is going to be a piece of cake. To the left of the learners slope is a long run and then it disappears down the mountain.

  Alessandro takes me to where the other learners are. Thankfully there are a few adults around too. I step onto the skis and hear them click into place. People ski around me gracefully, bending their knees as they fly down the mountain.