Exclusive Love (British Billionaires Series) (7 page)

Chapter Eight

Had she not considered herself to be as repugnant and lowly as a cockroach, Katy might have enjoyed text flirting with Oscar. Responding to his cheeky, sexual overtures she felt a fraud. Punishing herself she reverted to the email he’d sent not long after she’d left that morning.

‘Katy, I’m not sure I’m suited for the world of online dating. I may be past my sell-by date technologically speaking, (physically I assure you nothing could be further from the truth in case you have any concerns regarding our age gap) thus I am resorting to a traditional approach and asking you to spend the weekend with me at the Hamptons.

Unlike the Four Seasons, there are ample rooms and beds so we can sleep comfortably, privately and separately if it is your whim. I feel we’ll get to know each other more intimately without the luxury of text talk and other online communication exchanges to hide behind. They do provide a buffer for potential rejection, but, verbally clumsy oaf that I am, much of what I write can be misinterpreted by the reader.

At least in the flesh I have the opportunity to explain and retract the boorish words that tumble out of my mouth. I’d be honored if you would give me the pleasure of your company from Friday to Monday, to while away a weekend with the sole purpose of spending quality time with you. Take your time to think it over. There’s no pressure. As things currently stand it’s very easy to cut me from your life, although I hope you won’t.

Thank you for last night and sharing breakfast with me this morning.

Kind Regards, Oscar.’

It was lovable, it was raw, it was unpretentious, it was brave and it was open. Facing the prospect of never seeing Oscar when she closed the door to his suite that morning, a stabbing pain tore through her chest—far too close to her heart. The physical response to not exploring the spark between them could not be ignored. Complicating her feelings towards Oscar, Katy’s emotions were a weaving spider-web.

The breakthrough glow upon receipt of his email had Katy accepting the invite, for no reason other than she wanted to get to know Oscar better. He was certainly one of a kind. The accent and confident oddball attitude was endearing and sexy. Expecting a dignified, polite and reserved man, Oscar was alive, spirited and ready to embrace life and the unexpected obstacles it bombarded. He was edgy, but not unsafe.

His concern and care were demonstrative of a sensitive and thoughtful man. He was nothing like the frosty British billionaire she’d fantasized about demonizing in a ‘tell-all’ article.

Calling into question her own moral stance was the major stumbling block. Caught in the crossfire of her boss’s anger, she’d used Oscar’s invite as a ‘get-out-of-jail’ card. Deflecting John’s attention from her whereabouts, it upset the scales regarding how she felt about the weekend.

‘It’s dreadfully unfair that I have to go trawling through thrift shop after thrift shop when you won’t confide even the tiniest detail as to why.’

Julia’s whining voice cut through the random pressing thoughts creating a thicker and thicker web in Katy’s brain. The mind clutter was preventing her from clearing away the web to reassess the situation. Her bespectacled friend, with mousy hair cut in a bob and hazel eyes, was distraught at the thought of a secret coming between them. Having purchased disappointingly few outfits at the local thrift shops, Julia readily agreed to journey to the Big Apple with Katy to find the final five items of clothing required.

‘A bit of background would give me a feel as to what clothes will be best suited,’ Julia soldiered on, detecting a slight chink in her friend’s armor.

By badgering her and playing on the length of their friendship she could emotionally blackmail Katy into confidence.

‘It’s for work.’

‘What you need a,’ Julia ran a finger down the shopping list scribbled a torn off piece of note paper, ‘You need a designer bikini to attend court?’

‘No,’ sighed a worn out Katy.

The mounting pressure from work conflicting with her personal life made resisting Julia’s continual pestering close to impossible.

‘All I can say is I’m doing an undercover piece. Nothing major that’ll shake the nation, but it does require a wardrobe fitting of New York’s elite.’

‘Sounds fun. Can I tag along?’

‘You won’t find a man by following me on assignments. I mean, you work for an online dating company. Invest your energies there. Surely there must be one guy on the books that’s a possible Mr. Right.’

‘I’m not as certain as I used to be. Cynicism is working its way into my once-optimistic nature. I’m beginning to think online dating is a code word for ‘man seeking woman for sex’ or the other way around in a lot of cases. When you consider all the great loves, none of them happened online or from a distance. It all takes place in the flesh. Star-crossed lovers gazing at one another before being cruelly separated. I need to take myself out of cyberspace and put myself into reality. Hence if you are attending an event where the men are flush, as my closest friend since pre-school you’re obligated to invite me.’

‘Since when did you give up on online love?’ grilled Katy in a raised voice. ‘You’ve been boasting success rates for years and telling me how closed-minded I was by not joining your site. Why the change of heart?’

‘Because what can you know about someone online or via text really? They can pretend to be whoever they want to be. It’s only when you meet physically that you discover how truthful they’ve actually been regarding their circumstances. You can’t sniff out a fake online. If that click of completeness can only come with a physical interaction, then the internet is a poor middle man, inhibiting millions of people looking for love.’

‘Have you told your boss this?’

‘Of course not. My job doesn’t necessarily reflect my personal beliefs. Besides which, the figures do speak for themselves. There is success in online dating, but I’m reverting to a more traditional approach.’

Her words, echoing Oscar’s email, rattled every bone in Katy’s body. There were occasions where she could swear Julia had a psychic sense or mystical insight into Katy’s mind.

‘What you do is up to you, but I’m afraid however long we’ve been friends I cannot wrangle you an invite to what I’ve got lined up.’

Katy found a leopard print one piece on top of her head. Checking the tag, she couldn’t help but be wowed by the Dolce and Gabbana halter neck, laced from navel to cleavage.

‘You’re a star,’ said Katy, her enthusiasm picking up. ‘I don’t know how you do it but you always hunt down the items that I can’t find.’

‘Save your flattery for later, Katy. I had a lucky find there. We’ve got at least half a dozen more shops to plough through before our plight comes to an end and we don’t want to miss the last train home.

Chapter Nine

Conversing with Oscar for five hours Thursday night severely impaired Katy’s attentiveness and proficiency on Friday. He hadn’t exaggerated his statement that he was returning to the dating scene the internet forgot. She hadn’t spoken on the land-line for that duration in her life ever. Dragging the extension lead into her room to talk endlessly with Oscar in private, her parents found it ‘cute’.

Replacing the phone her parents advised her that before the invention of cell phones and the world wide web, hanging by the land-line hoping your beloved would call was a massive ingredient of the dating scene.

Retro, but romantic, thought Katy. Agreeing to meet Oscar at the Four Seasons Friday evening, she claimed it wasn’t far from her office. Knowing the labor involved in traveling to the hotel with her tiny suitcase dragging along the pavements, filling with pedestrians finishing work for the week, Katy elected to dress down. Waiting in reception she was pleased Oscar was on the same wavelength. He was as casual as a billionaire could be.

The navy chinos were well-pressed, but loose, unlike the skinny chinos boys her age were keen on squeezing themselves into. The large orange emblem of a man on a horse playing polo, drew attention to the iconic Ralph Lauren logo. The shirt was slim fitted accentuating his honed physique. The color drew out the blue in his eyes and the thick strawberry blonde streaks of his hair. Kissing her cheek, she inhaled deeply at the fresh, sporty smell of his aftershave with distinct hints of citrus. There and then, she knew she wanted to sleep with him. If nothing else, she wanted to feel his weight pressing down on her in a lavish environment she was familiar and comfortable in.

I’m becoming a domineering, hard-hearted cow
, Katy admonished herself. She was never the type to sleep around, but her mind was possessed with images of her limbs entwined with his, as their bodies wrapped themselves in Egyptian cotton sheets twisted from sexual activity. The daydream was too vivid. Shaking herself, she tried to concentrate on John and what exactly he’d be expecting her to report Monday afternoon.

It soured her mood knowing half of this weekend was to be used as a well of information for her to base an article on. She wished she’d turned her thoughts to the mundane, like what they’d have for dinner or how long the ride would take. The seed of undercover journalism rooted firmly in her mind, Katy became agitated as how to cope balancing her professional and personal life.

Collecting his car keys from the concierge, Oscar was unable to stop his eyes wandering to Katy. Her legs were amazing in the skinny jeans. Long enough for her to easily carry off pale blue canvas sneakers, instead of impractical heels. Her singular shirt was cut to emphasize her waist and fall from the shoulder revealing a lightly bronzed shoulder and white bra strap. Youth allowed her to be chic and casual.

Oscar couldn’t ever recall wearing jeans since leaving university. He’d grown up dressed in suits for all occasions and all seasons. Tiresome, chinos and a polo were his wardrobe reprieve. Next to Katy he knew he’d look over-groomed and straitlaced. The rapport was good, the sexual tension palpable, but would the twelve year age difference prove problematic?

Pushing his insecurities aside, he strode over to kiss her cheek.

‘Come to the basement. See what I’ve hired for the drive.’

She spotted the car without him having to point it out. A Ferrari convertible. As Oscar exaggerated his ‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’ over the automobile, Katy waited for him to open the car boot.

‘You don’t look impressed. It’s a Ferrari 458. If you want to hear about horsepower and—’

‘No,’ interrupted Katy. ‘I want to put my suitcase in.’

‘That’s a blow. I hoped you had a streak of tom-boy in you and might care for adult toys.’

‘Nope, not even the sexual kind,’ said Katy nonplussed. ‘I’ve no interest in cars. As long as they can get me from point A to point B, I’m usually a happy girl.’

‘What do you drive?’

‘A car that gets me from A to B.’

‘Please don’t revert to the enigmatic Katy. I thought after our call last night you’d softened and weren’t going to take me in too firm a hand—at least not right now.’

She laughed at the picture of herself as a dominatrix in PVC with thigh boots and a whip. Definitely not her scene. It wasn’t Oscar’s fault she felt uncomfortable having to lie to him. Punishing him for her choices wasn’t fair.

‘Oscar, all I know about cars is that ours is white and apparently red cars go faster.’

‘You are a motor-head!’

Lifting her pink suitcase to place alongside his own softer, dark, sports bag, he slammed the boot shut. Placing a finger under her chin, she closed her eyes waiting for his lips.

‘I was going to get a red car but I thought you might be concerned it would clash with my hair,’ he whispered in her ear.

Swiftly moving away, she was left waiting for the kiss that never came. Refusing to stamp like a petulant child, she took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, Katy saw him with the door open by the passenger side. Hopping in she couldn’t resist playfully punching his arm.

‘How long will this take?’

‘As it’s peak season and everyone will be headed out tonight, I’m guesstimating a little over two hours. Of course if I hired a red car we’d be there sooner.’

Out of the worst of the city’s traffic, Oscar was able to relax. Switching the sound system to blue-tooth he streamed a play-list from his phone. The music was foreign to Katy’s ears. Driving, happy to have the wind through his hair, a beautiful woman by his side and the music of his youth blaring he was oblivious to Katy’s reaction.

‘What is this?’ she inquired, trying to be heard above the unbelievably loud speakers.

‘Yes,’ nodded Oscar.

Having clearly not heard a word, her hand flew out to turn the music off.

‘What have I done to offend your precious sensibilities now, Katy?’

‘Nothing. I was asking what that music was.’

‘That particular group was The Happy Mondays, the one before was The Stone Roses.’

Her face remained blank.

‘They were pretty much the core of the Madchester scene.’

‘Manchester as in the English city.’

‘The music was known as Madchester, because, yes it originated from Manchester. I’m guessing these bands never broke the States.’

‘Why would I know?’

‘Ahhhh you wouldn’t,’ he concurred, realization dawning. ‘I doubt you’d have even been born when this music was popular.’

Her hand went to turn the volume up.

‘We can listen to something else. Perhaps the radio?’

‘No. I want to listen to your music. I want to appreciate what’s important to you and figure out why.’

Whether it was youth or a cultural clash, Oscar couldn’t recall any woman he’d previously been attracted to having a strong inclination to get to know his innermost self via his personal passions. It was a simple notion, yet effective. He wondered how one so young could be so wise to relationships. Awed by how intricately her heart worked and flattered by her affection, for once the chatty Oscar was at a loss for words. Sitting in companionable silence for the remainder of the trip, the impact of Katy’s one comment made surface chat and conversational pleasantries surplus to the atmosphere in the car.

Even in a white car, the power of the Ferrari’s smooth engine shaved ten minutes off the journey.

‘Can’t believe we made it here in under two hours,’ said Katy, wondering where exactly the time had gone.

‘Can’t believe we made it at all. Thank the lord we have GPS inbuilt on this car or I’m not sure I’d have been able to find our way here,’ confessed Oscar.

Knowing he was a billionaire, Katy could not conceive why she was in awe as the car drove slowly up the driveway. It was as if the Woodruff’s had imported a miniature castle from Europe to the Hamptons. As the car circled, Katy saw it was a ‘U’ shaped building constructed of an ancient type of brick. Counting at least four chimneys from the staggered peak shaped roofs, one corner of the building was constructed in a circular shape similar to a castle turret with a domed roof.

An extension from the first level of the turret, provided a patio supported by Roman-esque columns on the ground floor. Replica columns were adopted at the magnificent old oak main entry double doors and other various extensions. The modern glass conservatory clashed with the exterior of the house, but Katy’s attention was soon drawn to the outdoor pool. If the outside of the house was anything to go by, Katy was in for a weekend of seriously high living.

Driving further along, the car approached an unassuming split level brick cabin, with a patio opening directly onto the beach.

‘No sense in staying at the main lodge,’ explained Oscar parking the Ferrari. ‘It’s far too big for two people to be rattling around in. The cabin, for the staff, is more pleasant. Cosy I would say.’

‘We’re staying in the staff quarters?’

‘Don’t look at me as though I’ve stepped out of a Victorian era movie,’ rebuked Oscar. ‘There was a period when one branch of the family spent entire summers here and felt the need to employ ‘staff’ to maintain the lodge. To save staff accommodation expenses they purchased this cabin. Nowadays I think the main lodge is rented out, but we keep the cabin free for any family members wishing to visit.’

Although comparably microscopic to the main house, it contained six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a large kitchen and expansive dining area, two lounge rooms, two studies, a library and games room. Polished wooden floors throughout to match the antique furniture, the modern kitchen and set up in the studies were subtle signs of how recently the cabin had been constructed. The ‘coziness’ Oscar mentioned emanated from the darker colors and rich plush rugs throughout the house.

‘Hungry?’ asked Oscar, as Katy stealthily explored the various levels and rooms.

‘What have we got in store?’

Hearing Oscar’s footsteps cluttering down the stairs to the kitchen, Katy snooped around. Satisfied with the loft conversion, she went to Oscar to find out where she was sleeping and how far away from his bedroom she’d actually be.

‘I didn’t think the food thing through. There’s soup here, but it is out of date. Can I possibly tempt you with take out?’

‘As long as it’s pizza. Pizza and a black and white movie on a Friday night is my perfect night in.’

Taking to the first level patio overlooking the ocean, Katy picked the peeling paint nervously off the squeaky wooden chairs.

‘It’s a newer house. The bricks are redder.’

‘You’re as knowledgeable with architecture and construction as you are with cars,’ said Oscar drily.

‘I meant...’

‘Katy. Teasing,’ said Oscar.

‘Sorry. Sometimes around you I feel like I don’t know a thing. It can make engaging in conversation with you intimidating.’

He frowned.

‘That’s not what I intend to do.’

‘It isn’t what you do. It stems from my poor education that’s all.’

‘Why do you do that?’

‘Do what?’ asked Katy.

‘Put yourself down. Make yourself out to be less than you are.’

‘I’m sure it’s very basic textbook psychology. Defense mechanism. Enables me to not feel out of place when I’m surrounded by the likes of you. It lowers people’s expectations of me, making me less likely to fail. If I do perform at my normal level I can impress and receive praise for my non-existent ego.’