Bad Boys of London(38)

‘What’s up?’ he asks immediately.

‘Oh, BJ. I don’t know how I can ever tell Jake about us.’ My voice is shaking.

There is a tense pause. ‘Where are you now?’ he asks urgently.

‘About a mile away from Jake’s house.’

‘Look, I can be at Silver Lee in about an hour. Do you want to go there and wait for me?’

With all the excitement about the baby, no one will notice my absence so I could even spend the night there and leave very early in the morning for London. ‘But what about Marcel?’

‘I’ll ask him to leave the French doors open for you.’

‘OK, I’ll see you there in about an hour,’ I say.

‘Layla.’

‘Yeah.’

‘We’ll figure it out, OK.’

‘OK.’

‘BJ.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Nothing. I’ll talk to you when I see you.’

I sever the connection and stare at my phone. It seems impossible that I once thought my relationship with BJ would diminish with time. That I had actually told Dom that it was just a sex thing. It’s far from just a sex thing. My feelings have grown and grown.

I know BJ likes me. Maybe a lot, but I also know that I can’t base my future on that alone. He owns clubs full of beautiful women who are constantly throwing themselves at him. When I am not with him, I sometimes worry. All kinds of thoughts plague me. We haven’t promised to be exclusive with each other. Our relationship is like a dirty secret. We never go any place where we could be recognized. No one in his life knows. Even Marcel has never seen me. At least in my life, Maddy and Dominic know. Now that Lily has given birth, I might even tell her and ask her advice.

With a sigh I put my phone back into my purse and start the car. I reach Silver Lee in about 40 minutes. The gates are wide open and I drive through. It is the beginning of spring and there are daffodils all along the road up to the house. It looks beautiful. And somehow that makes me feel sadder. Will I see them next year or the year after? I park my car and walk along the side of the house. One of the French doors is open and I slip in and lock it.

I know Marcel would have taken Jeremy and the house feels silent and totally empty without BJ. My heels are loud on the floor. I go to the kitchen and open the fridge and smile. Marcel made a jar of mojitos before he left. I pour myself a tumbler and go into the vast, open living room. I sit on the long lilac sofa and gaze out into the countryside.

I’m surprised to hear BJ’s car roar up the driveway a few minutes later. I put my drink on a nearby table and go to the front door. He opens it as I get there. The moment is rare. I’ve never opened a door to him before. It’s nice. It makes me feel like we are a normal couple.

‘You got here fast,’ I say softly.

His eyes are dark and searching. ‘I drove fast.’

I take a step towards him. He pulls me hard into his arms and kisses me.

‘Come on. Marcel has made us mojitos,’ I say breathlessly.

He looks down at me and nods.

We go to the kitchen where I pour a glass for him and we walk out together to the sofa. We chink glasses.

‘Here’s to the new aunt,’ he says.

I smile. ‘And the new baby.’

‘And that,’ he adds.

We both take a sip. He eyes me over the rim of his glass. ‘My poor Layla,’ he says quietly.

‘I’m sorry I’m being such a baby, but I can’t bear the thought of disappointing them all, especially Jake.’

‘He has to know, Layla. Sooner or later. We can’t carry on like this.’

‘I know. I know. I will.’ I drop my face into my hands. ‘I just don’t want him to hate me.’

‘He’s not going to hate you. This is your life. Nothing would have stood in the way of him being with Lily. He has no right to stop you from seeing anyone you want to. You’re a grown woman.’

‘It’s just feels as if I have betrayed him.’

‘The longer you leave it, the worse the betrayal will be.’

‘‘Maybe I’ll tell him after Ella’s wedding. You’re going too, aren’t you?’

He grins. ‘Only to look at you.’

I blush. ‘Really?’

‘Abso-fucking-lutely.’

‘Anyway,’ I say, suddenly feeling all shy and awkward. ‘I’ll be staying over at my mother’s that night and I’ll break it to all of them at the same time.’

‘Do you want me to be there?’

‘No.’ I shiver at the thought. ‘Definitely not.’

‘OK.’ For a moment we are both silent. He takes a sip of his drink. ‘Have you heard the story of Layla and Majnun by Nizami?’