London Royal (London Royal Duet Book 1) Page 13

  My brain was still rattling from the party last night. But I hadn't had too much to drink. If it was possible, I’d had too much of Abbie. I felt punch drunk. Hung over on her taste. My lips were still buzzing from the kisses on the rooftop.

  I hadn't slept. I tried to convince myself it was nerves over this morning's meeting, but I knew it wasn't. I'd been thinking about her. Unable to step back, walk away, not able to let any of her go. She'd been on my mind. And I was obsessed. Like an idiot.

  Shit was too messed up with the whole Gemma situation. But today wasn't about that fucked up situation. I had bigger fish to fry. Today, today was about my freedom. And if I could gain some small piece of it back, I was going to.

  I had already donated the birthday car. The one my father had given me like a clueless idiot. I'd called my assistant to have someone come and pick it up, and they'd done so last night.

  I drove my own car into the garage and parked it in the family spot as always. The gates opened for me easily. After all, everyone assumed I belonged there. Well they were about to find out differently.

  I took the elevators up to the office, along the way greeted by a myriad of assistants and VPs and mid-level managers, many of whom told me happy birthday. And I was grateful. A part of me was sad that I’d never feel this family atmosphere again. But the truth of it was it had been a long time since this place had felt like family to me.

  And honestly it had only felt like family because my father had been too busy, and so a myriad of secretaries and assistants had looked after Xander and I and we'd run amok in these hallways. Boldly walking into people's offices as if we owned the joint. Which, as children, we had sort of felt like maybe we could someday. But Xander had already secured his freedom. Now it was time for me to secure mine.

  I didn't even bother knocking on my father's office door, and instead I let myself right in. He looked up from his computer as if he'd been expecting me. "What took you so long?"

  I closed the door and slipped my hands into my pockets as I made my way to the massive window overlooking the South Bank. "Let me guess, you've been watching me since I parked the car?"

  "Of course. I expected you earlier."

  "Did you?"

  "I trust you didn't overindulge at your celebration last night?"

  "Do you even know what it means to overindulge, Dad? It's ten in the morning. If I’d overindulged, you wouldn't see me until tomorrow."

  He lifted a brow. "Do you have the same afflictions your brother does?"

  I scowled at him. "Xander's fine now."

  He rolled his eyes. "Yes, but he has a penchant for trouble."

  "If you say so." He pushed to his feet. "Well since you're here, let's get you started. I already have the paperwork on its way down here from the lawyers. And your office is all set up. The contracts I want you to work on—"

  I turned from the window to face him. "I think you misunderstood. I'm not here to accept. I'm here to tell you to your face that I decline."

  He glowered at me. "I beg your pardon?"

  I ground my teeth. "Sorry, Dad. I know you're disappointed."

  I let the sarcasm and derision drip off of that last word. "Disappointed? You're bloody insane that's what you are. After everything I’ve offered you, you’re turning your nose up at me? I see you had no problem accepting my birthday gift though. Well, I demand it back.”

  “Can’t have it back. I gave it away to charity, in your name, of course.”

  His face had gone an alarming shade of raspberry now. “You drove in with the birthday gift I gave you."

  I shook my head. "No, that's a gift I got myself. Yours was donated to a charity last night. You didn't notice I already had the car myself."

  His face went beet red as he blustered. "What? Do you have any idea how expensive that car was?"

  I laughed. "Do you?"

  Cue the sputtering. "I don't know what has gotten into you, but if you do this, if you cut ties with me and the company, you're disinherited."

  I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I figured that was coming. But the best part is that I don’t need your money."

  "You think I'm joking? No cars, no nothing."

  "Dad, I don't want anything from you. There was one time in my life, one time that I wanted you. I wanted you to save us from that tosser Mum was going to marry. I remember begging you to come and pick us up. I begged you on the phone, I cried."

  "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you bringing up this nonsense?"

  "Because it wasn't nonsense. The one time I needed something from you, you didn't come. You told me I was making too much of something. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. And then our lives were turned upside down. From that point forward I made it a point to never ask you for anything. I don't want anything you have to give me. I want none of it."

  "Oh, and you'll have none of it. Your barge, your cars, how do you plan to pay for it? This lifestyle I've afforded you. The lifestyle your mother has."

  "Oh, don't you start. You and I both know that she was richer than you when you married her. It's the illusion you let yourself believe, that somehow you made her and not the other way around. Oh sure, we all know you had some money. But Mum, she has the name, she has the title."

  "You're just like her. She has a defunct title that doesn't matter."

  "That may be true, but what do you have? Sure, your company's one of the best in the business. No one can begrudge you that. But what you don't have, is me. You certainly don't have Xander. But you haven't had him for years. He saw his way out a long time ago, and he took it. I wish I'd been that brave. Took me a while to get there, but here I am. I don't need you, and we all know Mum doesn't need you, so you're on your own. On your island with your piles of money. Enjoy."

  He stepped into my space. I refused to back up. We stood nose to nose. And I could see the people outside the office curiously looking in on us. And they could hear every word. We weren't quiet. And I knew for a fact his office wasn't sound-proofed enough. He wanted to make a scene, so he'd make a scene.

  "Are you throwing this away for a woman? How’s she going to feel about you when she knows you’re broke?”

  I grinned at him then. "That's just the thing, Dad, I don't need your money. I have money of my own now."

  He scowled at me. "What? You think your mother's going to furnish your lifestyle?"

  "That's the best part. I don't need Mum's money either. I'm finally free of you. Absolutely free. And God it feels amazing. So, Dad, you can take your job and shove it. It's a real shame too, because it didn't have to be like this."

  I turned away from him then and started to stalk out, but he grabbed my elbow. "If you have another source, what have you done for it?"

  The deal was done. He couldn't stop it. But I also didn't have to offer him any details. "Well, I guess you'll find out someday, but you’re too late to stop it. It’s done. You and I, we’re done."

  "I will make you pay."

  He grabbed me by the scruff and gave me a hard shake. I'd never seen him so angry.

  But he was doing the exact wrong thing, putting his hands on me, threatening me. With a quick lift of my hands to where his held me, I made my hands form little Cs, stuck them out in front of me, snapped them back to where his thumbs held me tight, and plucked him off easily. "I promise you don't want to do that. I would never want to hit you. Because it's sad. It's a sad thing to hit an old man. But if you put your hands on me again, you'll find out just what happened that night long ago." He went pale and staggered backward. "Let me be clear with you Dad, you try and fuck with me, and I will end you. You try and fuck with Xander, and I will really end you. If you go anywhere near Mum, or try to put this in the papers and attempt to embarrass her, or if you try to take anything away from her, I will end you. Do you understand?"

  The fear in his eyes told me that he did. He knew what I was capable of now. He finally understood. With that, I turned around and stalked out. I had my freedom. I never had to
step foot in that place again.

  17

  Abbie…

  I fiddled with my camera as I rode the tube. The energy on the train vibrated and shifted around me. The dark gray clouds of morning had dissipated and given way to lighter gray ones, but there was no hint of sunshine to be seen. It was official—my good weather run had come to an end.

  The Brixton Market was exactly what I was looking for. Located in South London, it was home to immigrants from all over the world but primarily Jamaicans and Haitians. As I passed fruit and vegetable stands, I took occasional shots for my portfolio, focusing on the rich colors and the lively, animated faces of the people I passed. Navigating through the market, I finally paused when I heard the sounds of Jamaican dancehall music.

  Following the thumping drum and bass tunes, I tugged the earphones out of my ears and smiled at the familiar Sean Paul song. Immediately, my mind went to the party the previous night. I flushed at the memory of Lex’s hands on my ass, urging my body to fit against him as he stroked my tongue with his.

  I had never been so reckless or stupid in my life. Ever. I didn’t make out with random strangers, no matter how beautiful they were. All the dating magazines and articles I'd poured over with my friends since I was old enough to be interested in boys said to play it cool. Act unavailable.

  Of course, then there were the Cosmo articles that taught women to take charge and go after what they wanted and how to seduce a man. I chuffed as I wove through the crowd. I was not the seduction type. I was the one who thought everything through. I was the cautious one.

  Until Lex.

  I couldn’t help a little snort. It sounded like such a cheesy line. Except he hadn’t delivered it like one. Though, I had a good idea of the kind of adventure he wanted to lead me on. The way his lips had slid over mine expertly, coaxing me into compliance. That was a man who had experience with a lot of women, certainly more than his fair share. It was like he made kissing a personal pastime.

  Faith said he was part of the R&B crowd, and there was probably no shortage of women ready and willing to be with him. Heat flooded my cheeks, and the irrational flare of jealousy irritated me. Not to mention he was rich and probably had the feeling of entitlement to go with it. If something happened with us and it went bad, it would probably get ugly for me.

  I finally found the source of the music and grinned. A group of young kids had taken over a corner of the market with an impromptu dance battle.

  Grinning, I snapped several photographs. One by one, the kids came over after krumping their way to their friends and checked out the images I’d captured. With every click, I’d stopped time on a particular emotion or feeling. Their live energy. How they moved. How alive they were. I’d born witness to it all.

  As the kids grinned and attempted to tug me into the dance battle circle, I laughed and shook my head. There was no way I was going to krump, but my new friends and fans didn’t want to take no for an answer. They dragged me in and immediately surrounded me. I closed my eyes to let the sounds of Sean Paul and the voices fuel my movement as I enjoyed my moment in the middle of the dance circle.

  With the music blaring, my body moving, the smell of fried plantains in the distance, and the sounds of laughter coming from my new friends, I knew I'd made the right decision. No matter how scary, no matter how stupid it seemed. No matter what everyone said, I'd made the right choice in leaving. My family didn’t know or understand me. Easton certainly didn’t understand me. All I had to do was let go and open myself to every new experience here.

  The act of letting go was the hardest thing I'd have to do. My family was my family. I couldn’t change who they were, and the sooner I accepted that, the happier I would be. But I could let go of Easton. I didn’t ever want to go back.

  With some distance, I could clearly see how our relationship had looked. On the outside, we were perfect. But on the inside, I’d completely vanished. Without him, I could be strong and take charge and have fun.

  The music eventually transitioned to something else, and the kids howled and clapped for me. I waved goodbye to my new friends and took the slips of paper they handed me with their phone numbers so I could text them some pictures. I headed back out of the market, feeling lighter than I had been in days.

  I headed for a part of town called Music Row. I'd heard that in the seventies it had been home to several music studios for young rhythm and blues singers trying to make it. Sort of Brixton's answer to Motown Records. My feet splashed in leftover puddles from the overnight rain.

  Between two buildings in a not-quite alleyway, I caught sight of a section of puddles that looked like they formed a perfect circle. In the center of them lay a piece of chain and pipe. Getting down on my haunches I snapped away, lost in my camera and images for several minutes. The light from one of the buildings glinted in the broken glass window of another, and I lost several more minutes going for shots that were integral to my assignment.

  Looking at my map, I rounded a corner, searching for the most famous studio of all. Brixton Gold. If I could get one good shot of it against the graying clouds, with maybe some people standing in front, I would have a good start for the assignment and could head back before the clouds opened up as they threatened to do.

  “You know, I’m starting to think you're following me.”

  I whirled around, heart pounding. Leaning against one of the doors next to a youth center and record store stood Lex. With his dark jeans, tan sweater, and light gray pea coat, he looked distinctly out of place. If I'd shot a photo of him that moment, I would certainly have a juxtaposition shot. Or maybe I could use it to show how Brixton was becoming the new Harlem. With white urbanites moving in by the droves, taking advantage of the cheap rent and revitalization.

  Or, I could just say hi. “Are you sure you’re not the one following me?”

  He shrugged. “I was here first. I thought that was you as you crossed the street. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

  I held up my camera. “A girl's gotta eat.”

  “I would hate to see you starve.”

  Unable to help the sudden jubilant feeling, I giggled. “Well, it could still happen if I don't get the shots I need for this assignment.”

  “School. Right. You did mention that last night. I was a bit too preoccupied to ask you more about it.”

  I flushed and immediately looked down at my camera. You will not think about the way his lips feel. You will not think about the way his hands feel. You will not think about how long it’s been since you had a proper, honest to God, sheet-clawing orgasm. “You probably know more about my school than I do, since your brother’s my professor. We had a nice chat at your party.”

  Lex’s smile faltered, and his lips thinned for a moment before he muttered, “London is entirely too small a world. He didn’t mention you two had spoken.”

  I shrugged. Maybe because he’d acted like an ass. “Nothing to mention, really. Sort of inconsequential.” Was I supposed to tell him that his brother told me to stay away from him? “Are you two close?”

  Lex’s gaze slid away from mine. “Sometimes a little too close for comfort.” When his gray eyes met mine again, they were stormy.

  My heartbeat slowed, each beat echoing between my ears. In the blink of an eye, I made my decision. “He said I should stay away from you.”

  His eyes went from a dark gray to cold, flinty silver. “What did you say in return?”

  I shrugged. “That I barely knew you.”

  His loose shoulders and hands in his pockets would have had most people believing he was completely at ease, but I’d studied enough faces to know better. He was livid. Surreptitiously, I inched backward, looking to put some physical distance between us.

  Alexi’s voice was low and rough. “Did he say anything else?”

  Oh no, I’d already stepped in it. There was no way I was going to roll around in it too. “No.” I took another step back.

  He studied me closely, his eyes rovi
ng over every inch of my face. Then as if sensing my unease, he stepped back. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its edge and was softer, coaxing, and seductive. “Do you plan on staying away from me?”

  A small shiver stole through me as I debated the urge to flee. Do not run. Not every man is Easton. Besides, we were on a crowded street. “That would be a little difficult, since you’re stalking me.”

  His grin was quick to surface, and I wondered how I hadn’t seen the resemblance to Xander right away. “I’m stalking you? You wandered in to my hood.”

  I laughed as I took in the urban landscape of graffiti-sprayed walls, chip shops, and Ladbrokes gambling spots. “Right. Your hood.”

  Lex cocked his head as he continued to smile at me. “You’re not buying it?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. You’re too fancy-pants posh. It’s not even like you’ve got this rocker vibe to you so you can pull it off. You sort of stick out here.”

  He joined me in laughter. “Okay, so the sweater and pea coat are ruining the image. But, I assure you, I belong down here.” He inclined his head toward the youth center. “I was kicking it with a few friends today.”

  “You were volunteering?” I’d assumed he spent his days sleeping till three, only to wake up and figure out where he was going that night. I’d never pictured him as the volunteering type. Not exactly a party boy. My mind conjured an image of him going through rural Africa digging wells. That image juxtaposed with one of him in a beautiful tuxedo, wooing donors for his latest cause. The image of dashing philanthropist worked better.

  His grin faded a bit. “Don’t let the swank parties fool you. I volunteer. I even have a job.”

  Shit. Had I insulted him? Immediately, images of him in a tux talking about the latest cause in the heart of Africa vanished and were replaced with images of some swank start-up, doing some cool music software or something. “Was that party swank?” I shrugged. “I couldn’t tell by the chocolate fountain and chandeliers.”

  He tsked. “Uh-oh. Looks like someone’s made a few assumptions about me.” He added a teasing smile and wag of his finger to soften the words.