His birthday had been a month ago, but he was obligated to spend it with his family as his mother had arranged this massive party, which I saw pictures of in a magazine. Then he had been abroad for a few weeks with his older brother. We had decided to have our own little celebration together, never mind that it was a month late. I was dangerously close to becoming addicted to Matt, eagerly anticipating the sound of his key turning in the door whenever he came over. Going to his place made me uncomfortable. After the first night we’d spent together, I had yet to return. The thought of starchy George hovering over my shoulder, staring at me with that icy reserve as he judged me silently. I shuddered in my heels and continued smoothing chocolate frosting over the cake.
Matt had asked me a couple of times to stay over at his house in Kensington. He stopped asking when he realized it made me feel awkward, then demanded a key to my place one night after he had to wait two hours for me to come home from the studio. I smiled at the memory of him fuming in the bog-standard Toyota Prius he had bought to drive over to my place. Parking in front of my house with that flashy Rolls-Royce of his was a definite no. He had demanded the key, I had refused. I had been the recipient of mind-blowing sex that night, after which he promised to withhold if I didn’t have a key made for him by the close of business the following day. I smiled to myself. Matt had a way to go concerning his arrogance, but he was improving.
It was weird whenever I saw him on TV. His whole persona was different. One night at the studio, we were on a break in the rec room when his face was suddenly staring at me from the flat screen. It was all I could do not to choke on my water. He was being interviewed about the effects his family’s oil business was having on the surrounding environment. The interviewer didn’t know what hit him. Matt was absolutely charming at first, then switched to a razor sharpness as the interviewer’s questioning became antagonistic. I had watched the screen in awe as he fielded probing and leading questions before turning it around in such a way the poor man seated across the table from him became defensive, as if he was the one being interviewed. Then it was back to charming Matt, whom the interviewer thanked profusely for taking time out of his busy schedule to talk to him. I swore the man would’ve kissed Matt’s ass if it wasn’t inappropriate on national TV.
I glimpsed at the time, it was almost nine. Thursdays he left the office as early as possible to get here. Damn. I missed him more than I should, very worrying that. The cake, complete with unlit candles, took pride of place centre table and I stood back to admire my handiwork. The only thing lacking was Matt. I went to sit and wait on the couch. He would love it. I hoped he loved his gift, too. When nine turned into ten, my annoyance was starting to grow. The food would be cold and I had put so much effort into making it right for him.
The first time he ate one of my meals, his face had gone a splotchy red and he swore I was trying to assassinate him as he drunk a pitcher full of water. Death by chillies he called it. I had eased back on my spicy seasoning since, but was gradually increasing the amounts in each dish I made him. He’d be able to handle the hottest curry by the time I got through with his palate.
When it got to ten thirty, my annoyance evaporated into resignation. He must have had to work late. I didn’t get upset over it. What would be the point? It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever dragged my danced out butt home gone one in the morning. I slipped off my heels and turned on the TV. If it got to twelve and he hadn’t arrived, I would text him to go straight home instead of driving all the way here. We could celebrate on the weekend.
“It’s chucking it down out there.” Matt was hanging up his coat, kicking off his shoes and leaning the dripping umbrella against the door. A man capable of multi-tasking, nice.
“Hey, hon.” I went over to get a wet kiss hello. “You look exhausted.”
“I am, poppet. My idiotic brother forgot to advise me of a late meeting with bankers. I was almost out of the building when Rachel caught up to me and dragged me back in.”
I was ogling him. He looked good enough to eat in his expensive suit, hair slicked back to give the air of sophistication one would expect from a man of his stature. His chiselled jaw screamed masculinity, that stern nose of his giving the impression he knew his place in life and it was higher than most people. His lips, God, I could write sonnets about those lips. But it was his eyes that drew me. When Matt gave you the full weight of his stare, it was a heady thing, intoxicating, unnerving; being under his gaze felt like drowning to me. But not in a bad way.Wasn’t that a bit messed up?
“Are you hungry?” I asked, helping him with his jacket. Sometimes I forgot how tall he was. Without my heels on it was more than apparent.
“No, we had food brought in around nine.” He tugged off his tie and threw it over the back of the couch. “And I have four reports that I need to go over tonight.”
I looked at the clock above the small fireplace. Eleven fifteen. It was late. Matt brushed past me, taking his briefcase over to the small desk in the living room I normally worked on. I bit my lip and sighed. It was obvious he’d forgotten. He hadn’t noticed my dress.
“Would you like a cup of tea, hon?” I asked, knowing the answer before he gave it.
“That would be great, poppet.” He was retrieving his laptop from the open briefcase as he pulled out the chair and settled in for work. I headed for the kitchen to make him tea. While I waited for it to brew, I started putting away the food and clearing up the unused dishes.
Matt ran a tired hand through his hair, glad he was here, but annoyed at the work he had to get done. He could’ve gone straight home instead of coming here. He usually did when it got this late, but he loved it here. This was his haven. His home away from home.
He’d come to enjoy spending time in this cramped two bedroom terrace. It had grown on him to the point where he only truly felt relaxed when his key opened the front door. In here he didn’t have to pretend, to manipulate, to be Matthew Bradley. Inside this terrace, he was just Matt, a normal man doing normal things with an exceptional woman. He looked over his shoulder, eyes searching for his dark beauty. It never failed to surprise him how much he had grown to depend upon her outrageous exuberance that had forced him to stop taking himself so seriously. He only had to think of her, and a smile would grace his face, which was hard to explain when seated in the middle of board meetings with stuffy men who probably never enjoyed their lives. Matt was enjoying his; with her, he felt alive.
“Poppet,” he called, regretting the fleeting kiss he had given her on his arrival, and wanting to rectify it immediately.
“Just getting your tea,” she replied through the open kitchen door. Matt smiled, turning back to his laptop when he spotted the pair of blue heels by the couch. She was constantly leaving her things about, but her heels were a different story. She always put them away. Matt frowned. Had she been wearing something blue? He had been so distracted with thoughts of his day when he walked in he’d barely noticed. He got up slowly, sure her dress had been blue. Matching dress and heels.Bollocks.
Matt made his way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorpost and mentally kicking himself as he saw her tidying away the table, with a cake in the middle of it. Fuck.
He watched her in silence, finally noting the lines of the amazing backless dress that hugged her petite frame. Blue suited her. In his humble opinion, anything she wore looked perfect. She turned, eyes going wide in surprise as she saw him standing there, before sending him a sweet smile that made his chest tighten.
“Hey, hon, tea’s ready. I was about to bring it to you.”
Matt closed the distance between them. “I’m a complete arsehole. I can’t believe I forgot we were going to celebrate my birthday tonight.”
“It’s okay.” She waved a dainty hand through the air, then touched his arm lightly as she moved past him towards the counter. He caught her by the wrist and pulled her into his arms.
“No, it’s not, poppet,” he murmured, rubbing his face in her hair. Flowers. She smelt like wild flowers. “It’s inexcusable.”
“I know how busy your life is, Matt. I knew it when we got into this thing. It’s no big deal.”
Matt let her move away, because she wanted to. She really wasn’t upset. Her achingly beautiful face showed no malcontent. Not one bit. That annoyed the hell out of him. She should be upset. She should be shouting at him for being a jerk and forgetting tonight after all the effort she had put into it.
“I’m famished. Let’s eat.” He went to the cupboards and got two plates down.