Crossing the Line Page 8

  Since I’m catching up with friends, even if they’re being annoying, I send Christie a quick email to see how she’s getting on in the Big Apple – why didn’t I go with her again? – and give her a brief report on my complicated situation. She’ll probably have similar advice to Will, though.

  My head feels like it’s going to explode still, so I lay down to have a nap. Hopefully I’ll manage to sleep right up until I have to get ready for this stupid dinner. If I’m even invited.

  Isabel appears at my door as I slip on some very high black stiletto heels. Operation sleep until dinner was very successful and I don’t even feel like I’m being bashed in the head anymore. “The Fords will be here any minute, so you need to come down,” she says, turning her nose up at what I’m wearing. I’m hardly in a fucking boob tube and leather skirt; I have on a plum knee length dress, which barely shows any cleavage.

  “Wouldn’t want to be rude now,” I mumble under my breath sarcastically and follow behind her. Being just two years apart we were close growing up but when she hit her teens she turned into a mini Mum. I was supposed to ‘grow up’ too, but I never have. I don’t know why you’d want to, when you stop doing things that make you scream in laugher, blush the colour of a London bus and fall down drunk, you age quickly.

  Pre-dinner drinks are waiting for us, just seeing my dad sitting on the sofa drinking champagne makes me want to run screaming. Isabel joins him, picking up a glass and I want to shake her. Can she really not see she’s middle-aged already?

  The wine is so close to me, but I know pre-drinks is champagne and Mum’ll have a heart attack if I try cheapening her evening, so I sit and take the glass from Dad’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” I say and immediately take a large sip.

  “Please come through,” mum says, and I freeze, knowing it’s Aden. She was ushers Aden and his parents into the room. My eyes fall on him and my mouth dries. He’s wearing black trousers and a smart dark blue shirt with the top button undone. Simple and understated but at the same time I’ve never seen anything so fucking gorgeous in my life. Forget the wine, I need vodka.

  He hasn’t seen me yet, but that’s probably due to Isabel who’s jumped up and made a beeline for him. Not desperate at all, Isabel. He responds, talking politely but keeping his distance. I gulp, realising I’m still sitting on the chair like an idiot. I literally don’t know what to do; I feel so out of place, like if I wasn’t here no one would even notice.

  Isabel twirls her hair around her finger, and I almost lose it. I stand and walk over to his parents and mine. I make the group an uneven number. Another reason why I feel like a third – or seventh – wheel.

  “Hi, Aden,” I say when there’s a gap in their conversation.

  He looks to his side, and a little thrill – well a fucking huge thrill – runs through me as his eyes widen. I want to point in Isabel’s face and say ‘ha, he likes the dress’ but of course I don’t.

  He bites his bottom lip as he rakes his eyes over my body discretely before composing himself. “Hello, Amelie. How are you?” Wow over polite. He’s been inside me; I think we’re past talking to each other like we’re strangers.

  “Great, thanks. How’re you?”

  “Very well, thank you,” he replies, amused. I smile back and roll my eyes, making him chuckle. I breathe a sigh of relief. His politeness is just for everyone’s benefit, which means not everything has been wrecked by our few hundred indiscretions. If they weren’t here, he would probably say something rude.

  “Amelie, can you get me another glass of champagne, please?” mum asks. My mouth almost drops open at how bloody obvious she’s being. She is totally trying to get rid of me, so Aden is left with Isabel.

  “How drunk are you planning on getting?” I ask her, raising my eyebrow. I’m not her fucking slave, and I’m not letting her win. Her eyes widen and flicker to Aden’s parents who are still talking to dad, blissfully unaware of the showdown happening right now. Her shoulders relax as she realises their attention is on Dad.

  “Amelie,” she scolds quietly. Her eyes, slightly narrowed, do most of the talking.

  “Mother?” I smile sweetly which seems to just piss her off even more. Her face reddens, and of the corner of my eye I see Aden fight a smile. Oh God don’t look at him. My own lips pull up, and I fight to keep a straight face.

  She holds her empty glass out to me. “Please, Amelie.” Her voice is tight; head tilted very slightly to the side, meaning she’s taking no shit. It actually looks as if she’s going to have a breakdown. Wow my mum having a breakdown. I wonder what that would be like? Would she scream? Pull her hair out? I bet she’d swear. I’d love to hear her swear.

  “Of course,” I reply, doing a little courtesy. Treating me like the black sheep of the family is one thing but treating me like I’m one of her staff is another. I hate that just because I don’t want what she wants for me she thinks I’m faulty.

  I pour her another glass of champagne and filled it right to the top. Ha, lets see you try drinking this elegantly. Admittedly I’m acting like a child, but she’s being ridiculous. Mum’s face is like thunder when I hand her the filled to the brim drink. She gives a tight smile of thanks and goes back to her conversation. Again I’m left alone with Aden and Isabel, so I’m not too sure what Mum achieved there. What a bloody pointless standoff.

  “That was very naughty,” Aden whispers in my ear as we walk through to the dining room.

  I shrug. “I’m not her maid.”

  He chuckles and placed his hand on the small of my back as we follow behind everyone. “That dress is very embarrassing.”

  I recoil in horror. What does that mean? How is it embarrassing? I quickly run my hands around the back, checking the skirt isn’t tucked into my thong. It’s not. “Why?” I ask, almost not wanting to know. Does he think I look like a hooker or something? He smirks and pulls me in front of him, pressing his chest against my back. And then I feel why it’s embarrassing for him.

  I giggle and press back, grinding against him and clenching my jaw as the urge to drag him to my room doubles. His hand grips my hip, and he moans quietly in my ear. I really do love this dress.

  “Behave,” he growls breathlessly, rubbing his thumb over my hip. See it is stuff like that which confuses me. Our little rub down was instigated by him, even though just this morning he was telling me we have to keep our relationship professional and friendly.

  Aden walks behind me until he sits down, and I have successfully resisted the urge to jump away from him and let everyone see how much he loves my dress. It was very hard, in more ways than one.

  Isabel has been, conveniently, place beside Aden at the table, with me opposite. It seems the wedding is all planned, even if Aden doesn’t know a thing about it. I wonder if they’d back off if I tell them I’ve slept with him? I know I can’t, well shouldn’t, but I would love to see the reaction.

  How would I even word it; ‘hey everyone, Isabel can’t marry Aden because he’s spent most of our working days between my legs’. I giggle to myself as I picture the silence falling over the room and the frozen look of shock that would undoubtedly be on Mum’s face.

  Everyone stops their conversation to at me. I look up, smiling innocently. Great now I look like I belong in an asylum. Mum’s face is hard, lips purse, telling me to stop now. Bet she’s glad she made me attend tonight. Aden smirks at me before Isabel talks at him again. Once again she has his full attention, and I want to throw my tiny piece of orange duck at her.

  Aden nods along with Isabel, but I can see his eyes glaze over. It gives me more satisfaction than it should to see how bored he is. Isabel is never herself around men. Everything she says or asks is what she thinks they want to hear. She interviews them and then spends the rest of the time talking about their job. Who wants to talk about work when they’re not there? When she marries someone – not Aden – they’re not going to have a clue who each other really is.

  Aden smiles politely at something she’s said
and scratches the back of his neck. Damn that’s sexy when he does that. I groan internally. This is going to be a long night, and that little incident with him earlier is not helping.

  Richard suddenly leaves the conversation with his wife and my parents and turns to Aden, asking about the business trip to Dublin. All right so he’s the type of person that wants to talk about work when they’re not there. I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to it anymore. What’s the point in going if it really is all going to be about the work? I mean I know that’s the point of a business trip, but I thought I’d get to spend some time with Aden. Naked time. I want my naked time!

  Finally the most boring, long and awkward dinner finishes and it’s time for post-dinner drinks. Not long now and I can escape to my room. I’m tired; my headache’s returned and I’m very close to throwing my drink at Isabel and Aden. If she brushes her arm against his again, my wine is going in her face.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?” Aden asks. The sexy smirk is back, and his eyes are shining in amusement again. Of course, he’s sitting next to Isabel and his parents on the sofa. My parents are opposite, and I’m facing them both on the lonely chair.

  I shrug and reply, “Becoming a lesbian.” Aden’s eyes widen at the same time Mum actually spits her drink out. Little droplets of Margarita fly through the air, landing on the fluffy white carpet. It’s times like this I wish I were one of those annoying camera fanatics.

  “Amelie,” she hisses. Aden’s parents sit still as statues with matching eyes and mouth wide-open expressions. Mum’s veins are practically popping out of her neck, and Isabel and Dad look like they want the ground to open and swallow them whole. Aden, on the other hand bites his lip to keep from laughing.

  “Well on that note I think we’d better be going,” Richard says, laughing and standing up.

  Mum gives me the death glare and I almost think it’s going to work, and I’ll drop to the floor. I trail behind as Aden and his parents make their escape.

  “So I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow,” Isabel said to Aden, batting her eyelashes.

  I freeze. What. The. Fuck. They’re having lunch together? When the hell was that decided? My heart drops to my stomach, and I stare at him, begging him to say she’s mistaken. I can’t breathe. I want to look away from them, but I can’t.

  His eyes flick to me for a second. “Sure,” he says with a forced smile. It isn’t a mistake. They are going to lunch. Is it a date? I back up a little, still staring at Aden. He opens his mouth as his eyes land on me. Before I can hear any excuse, I turn around and walk away as fast as I can.

  Chapter Eight

  I walk into my office ten minutes early and throw my bag down on the floor. There is a reason for me being early; I can take the files through to Aden’s office then spend the rest of the day hiding in here. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone to carry on planning the Dublin trip with his dad’s PA, and I won’t have to see him at all. Fuck him and fuck my sister.

  Things are going to be so awkward now, and I’ve never wanted to leave home so much before. I hate my mother for interfering and pushing Isabel and Aden together, but I hate him more. He didn’t have to let her... Unless Isabel is what he really wants. This sucks. This really, really sucks.

  I grab the files and walk through to his office, peeking around the door just in case he’s there. Thankfully he isn’t. His desk is fairly organised now, papers in his in-box are stacked neatly and in order of importance. I smile to myself and run my hands over the pile, having a little internal debate: mess them up or not?

  Images of him kissing Isabel flash through my mind and that is all I need to make my decision. I grab the whole stack and shuffle them in random order, chuckling to myself.

  Mature, not at all. Satisfying, very.

  He arrives fifteen minutes later. I hear him talking to his dad outside his office. My heart races. Please don’t come in here. I hold my breath and click away on the computer, pretending to be too busy in case he comes in. In reality, I’m just pressing random keys on a word document.

  An hour later and it’s clear that he’s avoiding me too, which is stupid because he’s the sister shagger! I just need to not be around him for a while so I can get over whatever it is I feel for him. It’s bad enough having to control myself around him all the time, but now I have to deal with him dating my sister. Again, I hate them both.

  By half past twelve, I’m starving and need food, but I don’t want to leave the office in case I bump into him. I open the door, all ready to do a mission impossible and standing right there is my big sister.

  “Hi, Amelie,” Isabel says, making me want to pull her dirty blonde hair out.

  I force smile. “Hi.” Aden opens his door and freezes as he sees us both. Well at least this is incredibly awkward and uncomfortable for him too. I take a small amount of pleasure from that.

  “Are you ready?” she asks him, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes seductively. Slutty cow.

  Aden nods, his eyes not leaving mine. I gulp and try to make myself walk away, but I can’t move. Damn it! Bloody leave! Why the hell am I still standing here watching this? “Have a good date,” I mumble, finally turning away and practically running to the lift.

  “Millie,” Aden calls after me, but I don’t turn back, seeing them together is making me nauseous.

  The lift can’t appear soon enough. Thankfully someone has just got out, so I make a dash for it. “Shit. Close!” I snap in frustration, banging the ground floor button in the lift. There is no way I’m being stuck in a lift with them.

  The doors start to close painfully slowly but just as I see Isabel’s red leather bag come into view from around the corner before they shut. I sigh and lean back against the wall. Suddenly something beside me moves, and I realise I’m not alone. How could I not have seen anyone? Two whole people stand against the other side of the lift, starting at me as if I’m crazy. Well I guess they had just witnessed me screaming and punching a lift.

  I laugh nervously. “Afternoon,” I say politely. They nod their head in unison, opting not to reply verbally. I don’t blame them.

  Can this day get any worse?

  The lift comes to a stop on the ground floor and the doors open, proving this day can, in fact, get much worse. My mother stands before me.

  “Amelie?” she says, looking surprised to see me. At the place I work. During works hours.

  I step out and reply, “Mum.” She walks closer, and her strong; eye wateringly expensive perfume hits me.

  “How is work?”

  I shrug. “Fine.” Every civilised conversation with her is forced. We just aren’t meant to get along.

  “Have you seen your sister? Is she with Aden?”

  “Yes,” I reply through gritted teeth. The bastards are together.

  “Oh there they are,” she says, raising her hand to wave to them. Damn. Crap. Shit. I turn around just as they stop in front of us. Aden’s looking at me, trying to get my attention, but I keep my eyes on the tall Ficus trees either side of the lift.

  Sister shagging bastard.

  “Well I’ve got to go,” I announce and make a run for the door. No one tries to stop me or even acknowledge that I’ve just left, not that I expect them to.

  Wait. What the hell is Mum doing there? Oh God is she going with them? I burst out laughing in the middle of the car park. Have a nice romantic lunch, losers. A group of what looks like bankers turn to give me a strange look as I continue laughing to myself on the way to my car. I shrug it off; I’ve already maxed out my daily dose of being embarrassed in the lift.

  I spend the entire lunch hour in the local cafe eating bowl after bowl of ice cream with Will’s brother Matt. “You’ll get fat,” Matt teases as I tuck into another double chocolate ice cream sundae.

  “Really not the time, Matt,” I respond flatly.

  He chuckles, showing the contents of his mouth, and I turn my nose up. “Well, what are we gonna do about this Aden then?”

  �
�Hit man?” I offer.

  “Hmm that could work.” He frowns. “Actually with your luck you’d be caught.”

  “Yeah thanks for that.” I slam my head down on the table. “Seriously, though, what am I going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe find another job?”

  I shake my head. “Who the hell’s going to employ me? I’m lucky to have this job.” I have no experience and there’s about a million applicants to one job.

  “You’re loaded, Millie. You could move out today.”

  “That’s their money, and I’m not using it. That’s the whole point of me working. Matt, I don’t want anything from them.” I sigh heavily. Why can’t anything be straightforward?

  “You could get a job as a stripper, with that body you’d earn enough to-”

  I hold my hand up, silencing him. “You’re about as much help as your brother.” There’s nothing else I can so. I just have to work through it, block Aden out of my heart and move on. I hate that he’s able to worm his way in so quickly.

  Matt insists on walking me back to work. He’s said it’s because he wants to make sure I get back okay, but I know he really just wants to check Aden out. We walk up to my office and almost straight into my boss. Matt holds his hand out and Aden frowns before shaking it. “You must be Millie’s boss,” he says, almost too politely. What’s he doing?

  Aden smiles tightly, jaw too tense. “And you are?”

  “Matt, Millie’s fuck buddy,” he replies, shrugging one shoulder. Did he just say that? No, he couldn’t have, he’s not that idiotic. I imagined it. Why would I imagine that? Oh dear God. Say something. Fix it.

  “I think I’ve only done him once,” I blurt out. I think I’ve only done him once? I give myself a sarcastic round of applause in my head. Matt is one nightstand number one. We definitely had sex at his birthday party a year ago. In the morning, we went straight back to friends, never mentioning it again. Then there was a clubbing incident where we woke up naked together, but neither of us felt like we’d have sex. It remains a mystery.