Page 17 of The Fool

“Thank you, Mr Chambers, you are very kind, and that really means a lot,” I politely reply. “If you’ll excuse me though, I suddenly feel unwell. I think I will make my way back to the apartment. Sam,” I begin, and he turns to look up at me, “would you mind walking me back? I think I might get lost if I try and walk on my own.”

“Of course, gladly,” Sam replies, then stands to join me.

“Thank you again, Mr Chambers, it’s been a real pleasure to meet you.”

Once the fresh air hits me, I feel the sting of tears running down my cheeks, and the need to have a good cry becomes so overwhelming, I can only hope the apartment isn’t too far from here. Embarrassingly, Sam sees the effect that lunch has had on me, so quietly turns in to hold me. He doesn’t say anything, but I’m relieved for his silence.

“Let’s get out of here,” I eventually mutter with a noisy sniff.

“Sure thing, Bea,” he says soothingly, and we walk back to our little home away from home.

_____

Bea

Night is upon us, and it’s the first one that we’ve finished at a decent hour. In fact, after our hideous lunch, Sam and I were told to take the entire afternoon off. I could have taken offense at this, but I honestly didn’t have the energy to question it that deeply. Instead, we picked up some takeout pizza, grabbed some chocolate and cheap booze, and headed back to the apartment to watch whatever movie we could find on the television. We probably should have taken advantage of the free time by going on a tourist tour, or perhaps wandered down to Harrods for a bit of window shopping, but I think Nathaniel managed to zap me of all my energy when he practically accused me of being a shit PA. As for Sam, I just think he’s plain lazy. It took very little to convince him to stay in for the night.

Nick and Nathaniel came home a few hours after lunch, both silent, both heading straight up to their top-floor apartment. Nick took precisely twenty-eight minutes to get suited and booted, after which, he flew out the door with a quick wave goodbye. Nathaniel took a little longer, but pretty much followed in his footsteps, minus the wave or any kind of acknowledgment of our existence.Good riddancewas all I could think of saying once he had exited the building.

With the bosses gone, Sam and I change into our slob gear before setting up our provisions, mainly in the form of junk food and syrupy homemade cocktails. We then choose a nice gory horror flick that’s more cheesy than scary and sit with our feet perched on the small coffee table.

“Are we really sad for not going out to experience the nightlife of London?” I giggle to Sam.

“Yeah,” he laughs with me, “but I’m shattered after two boring days of meetings, and I also have a very,very, limited budget.”

“Hmm, well, we can’t all be mega-rich management types, can we?” I agree, flicking through the TV again because the movie wastoocheesy, even for me. After a couple of rounds with the remote, I finally stop when I findThe Breakfast Club.

“I’m really into this film at the moment,” I tell him, “I’m so attracted to the bad boy.”

“I bet you are, Miss Summers,” Sam smirks wickedly. “Speaking of which, you have anyone back home who you’re seeing at the moment?”

“Oh, God, no,” I reply, looking at him as though he’s crazy for even thinking such a thing. “You?”

He shakes his head with a sad sigh, putting his bottle down so he can turn to face me.

“That means we’re free to have wild sex if we get really bored,” he says with a half-serious, half-amused expression. I cannot help but look a little stunned, but when he breaks into a wide grin, I throw an ice cube at him for teasing me.

“The last girl I dated said I was too full on for her, so she ditched me,” he explains, wincing over the memory of it. “What a bitch.”

“Were you though?” I ask with the alcohol obliterating my brain-to-mouth filter.

“I don’t know,” he says contemplatively. “Let me show you; set the scene, as it were. Come on, I need you to stand up and pretend to be her.”

“Er…you’re not going to do anything weird or creepy are you?”

“God, no, just stand woman!” he orders, so we both stand up in the middle of the living room, feeling a little tipsy. Once we are standing face-to-face, he reaches out and takes hold of my hands in his, then looks deep into my eyes. I can tell by the way his pupils are dilated that he’s a bit farther gone than I am. My body suddenly tenses, knowing just how far drunk people can go.

“Have another one, beautiful, I’ll look after you…”

“I said to her, I said ‘Chelsea, Chelsea…’” he slurs, the alcohol suddenly smelling potent on his breath. “I think you are the most beautiful, most perfect woman I have ever met. I want to kiss you now and I hope you will kiss me back because if you don’t, I shall die,” he laughs in a high-pitched way, only to then turn serious. He looks at me with his eyes rolling around, before pulling me against his chest and beginning to lean down with his lips pursed, getting ready to attack my own.

“That’s it, beautiful, drink all of it, then we can have some fun…”

“Sam,” I gasp, trying to back out of his grip, “Sam, stop it!”

“What the fuck is going on here?!” a voice cries out from the doorway, the same one that I am certain was closed a minute ago. However, Nathaniel Carter is now standing where the door was with his tall, broad frame looking both tense and intimidating. His brow is furrowed, his eyes dark, and his jaw tightly clenched. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him looking so furious before, and I’ve seen him mad…a lot!

“Get the fuck away from her!”

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