You Don't Own Me(67)
‘No, it’s not,’ I say immediately.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘What anniversary?’ I challenge.
‘The very first time I made you come.’
I grin. ‘When I was forced by Stella to go massage the very dangerous Russian mob boss?’
He nods. ‘He’s not a mob boss anymore, but he is still very Russian, and can be dangerous if provoked. Will you massage him?’
‘What about him?’ I ask, nodding at Alexei.
‘Just throw him in the pool,’ he says callously.
‘I have a better idea,’ I whisper, and thrusting Alexei into his arms, jump down from the counter. I snatch Alexei back and go out into the poolside area where Mark, Stella, and Anouska are playing.
‘Can you take care of this little one for an hour?’ I say, holding my son out to Stella.
‘What am I? Your babysitter?’
‘Wait till your bundle of joy arrives and you want some,’ I say meaningfully.
‘Give me that baby,’ she says, holding her arms out.
I give Alexei to her and run.
Yes, I run to my husband.
The End.
This book is inspired by the idea that everybody
deserves a second chance …
and anybody can change
SEXY BEAST
GEORGIA LE CARRE
Sexy Beast
Published by Georgia Le Carre
Copyright © 2015 by Georgia Le Carre
The right of Georgia Le Carre to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-910575-13-0
You can discover more information about Georgia Le Carre and future releases here.
The Mouse On The Bar Room Floor
Some Guinness was spilt on the bar room floor
When the pub was shut for the night.
Out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse
And, in the pale moonlight,
He lapped up the frothy brew from the floor,
Then back on his haunches he sat.
And all night long you could hear him roar,
‘Bring on the goddamn cat!’
—An Irish Tall Tale
ONE
Layla
Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
—Karl, Age 5
‘What are you standing there for? Go use the upstairs bathroom,’ Ria says when she spots me at the end of the queue for the downstairs bathroom.
She is right. The queue is long. ‘I’ll just use the portaloo outside,’ I reply.
‘Don’t be so silly. There’s a humongous queue there, too.’
I bite my lip. Ria is BJ Pilkington’s second cousin and we are in his house, Silver Lee, a cavernous mansion built in the art deco style with massive windows that wrapped all the way around the front and sides. BJ threw this party for my brother, Jake, and his new wife, Lily. And while I like and socialize with Ria, BJ and I share a stinging mutual dislike for each other.
In fact, I hadn’t even wanted to come, but my mother forced me to. ‘It’s in your brother’s honor,’ she said in that displeased tone I knew not to disobey. ‘It’d be ignorant not to, and God help me, I didn’t bring you up to be ignorant.’
‘Are you really sure it’ll be OK?’ I ask, looking doubtfully up the long, curving, dark wood staircase. Nobody else seemed to be going up it. It is understood that the party is restricted to the four reception rooms downstairs.
‘Of course,’ she insists confidently.
I give it one last attempt. ‘I don’t even know where it is, and I don’t really want to go wandering around by myself.’
‘Come on, I’ll show you,’ she says and, taking my hand, makes for the stairs.
‘Thanks, Ria,’ I concede, following her meekly. I do need the bathroom rather badly. At the top of the stairs I look down and see all the beautiful people dressed in their absolute finest. That’s the thing about us travelers. We love our color. Peacocks, all of us. There isn’t a plain black gown in sight. Ria takes me down a corridor and half-opens a door to a blue and white bathroom.
‘See you downstairs,’ she calls cheerfully and walks away.
I use the toilet, then wash my hands and stand in front of the mirror. My deep auburn hair comes down to the tips of my breasts. My eyebrows are straight and my eyes are dark blue. My nose is narrow, my lips are generous, and my jaw is well defined.