How to Catch Butterflies (38 page)

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Authors: Samantha Fontien

BOOK: How to Catch Butterflies
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They chatted for a while on the drive to the Airport. They arrived and checked into Business class and relaxed in the executive lounge, until their flight was called to board, and boarded the plane.

It was Rebecca’s first time in business class, so she mimicked what Mr. Nichol’s was doing, trying to blend in with her surroundings. Mr. Nichol’s leaned over to talk to her

“I’m quite excited, it’s my first time on the new A380” he smiled at her as he leaned back into his seat.

This relaxed her instantly as Rebecca didn’t understand why people said he was like a robot, unemotional, she just didn’t see it. He was always nice to her. There were even the few times they had shared a laugh. No looking at this normally cool, calm and collected gentleman you would never believe it, his smile was that of a Cheshire cat. He looked over at her

“I’ve always loved planes, ever since I was a boy” he shifted in his seat with what seemed like excitement.

She found herself too smiling, looking at him. You would have thought this was his first ever time on a plane, as she watched him look around the cabin with his eyes, cross- referencing amenities and facilities that were featured in the brochure of the New A380 he had pulled from the pocket in front of him that were in his hands.

“We’re going to be experiencing the new 'Sleep Service'”,

Rebecca was nodding acknowledging what he was saying and she was also absorbing the knowledge at the same time. He continued

“It’s where a thin grey mattress is rolled out over the seat, to improve comfort” he smiled at her still with a gleeful look in his eyes.

Most people in the cabin were experienced business class travelers and the rolls came out as soon as the seatbelt sign was turned off - they did add an extra layer of comfort. The meals were ok - in particular the soups were delicious. She was ready to sleep by the time the dessert trolley came around
.

* * * *

Mean while in the center of London, Jackson Harvey was sitting impatiently in traffic.

Jackson hadn’t left Rebecca’s till 9:30 am, thinking he had missed the rush hour traffic. She had left at 6am that morning leaving him still in bed. They had spent most of the night ‘
making love’
; he laughed to himself thinking of the weekend he had spent with Rebecca.

He could feel himself go hard at the very thought of her, she had blown his mind completely.

Jackson hadn’t expected her to have leaned into him that night, asking if they could go back to hers. When she had said it would be worth it, he didn’t regret it for one second it surely had been worth it.

He had been more than happy lying in her arms all weekend, he shocked himself, he had wanted to stay, even when she had suggested if he wanted to go. Rebecca had said it loud and clear she ‘was cool with that if he wanted to go he could. But that was the point; he didn’t want to, he had found himself wanting to stay.

They had talked a lot over the 2 months that he had been seeing her. He loved her honesty; He had asked her why she had split up with her fiancé? He was shocked when she told him it was because he had hit her, she had said it so casually.

It had taken him completely off guard, and she then casually started another conversation, just because she had told him why, he knew her starting a new conversation was her way of telling him you asked, I told you, doesn’t mean I want a postmortem on it, and he respected that. Funny, it must have been from that moment he actually did start respecting her.

The women he normally went for, which if he was to be completely honest with himself that was anything decent looking with a heartbeat.

Not her…. No Rebecca was something else; she was such an enigma to him. She was his kryptonite. He could only admit it, he, Jackson Harvey, was falling for her. She was strong, she certainly didn’t tolerate his bullshit, and he knew it straight away, from his first telephone conversation with her three years ago.

After he had made love to her the first time on Saturday night, he knew he was falling for her, as he lay there watching her sleep. She had told him not to fall in love with her, and he must never use that word with her,
as far as she was concerned it was one of the most abused words in the history of man, ‘make love’, please as she rolled her gorgeous blue eyes up to heaven, give me a break, it’s just good sex, the sooner you get to grips with that the better, it’s sex or fucking, not making love.

He remembered her asking one night “I don’t get it! It’s not love. Do you love them? Do you? As she shrugged her shoulders as she spoke nonchalantly. He was just about to answer when she spoke over him “You don’t, so why say it? Is it a magic word that’s ‘magically’ makes them drop their knickers? As she pinched her fingers together making air comma’s, and then popped an olive into her mouth.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You have a point there” he said as he leaned in for a kiss.

He sat there in his car smiling to himself, until he caught sight of himself beaming like a loved up teenager. He fixed his tie, he was glad there was a change of clothes at the office; he could also shave there seeing as he had already showered at hers. He had his own on suite there. Rebecca would be gone for 2 weeks, and he was already missing her.

“Shit man pull yourself together” he said to his reflection, shaking his head in disbelief.

He pulled up to his parking space in the underground car park and took the lift up to his offices on the 19
th
floor. Once the lift door opened, he stepped out into his company’s reception area where his two pretty receptions greeted him with smiles and a “
Good Morning Mr. Harvey
” in unison, and he walked the short distance to his private office greeting them in turn flashing one of his dashing smiles at them.

Once in the sanctity of his space, he took off his shirt, exchanging it for a new one still in its packet; he hadn’t had the chance of even buttoning it up when he heard the commotion that was going on outside his frosted glass doors.

The next thing he knew was a chap, swinging his doors apart and entering, closely followed by his secretary who was pleading with the smartly suited man. Jackson instantly recognized the man before him as the chap that had followed them out on Saturday night at the ‘Dorchester’. He spoke over the guy who had barged into his office.

“It’s okay Mandy, I’ll take care of this” she profusely apologized

“I’m sorry Mr. Harvey” as she closed the double doors behind her, leaving the two men alone.

Jackson stood there, his shirt still unbuttoned, his chest still exposed, he didn’t feel the need to cover himself up, he was proud of his body as he sized up the suited man in front of him.

He took control off the situation, asking the man to take a seat giving him the choice of either of the two chairs in front of his desk, while he walked around the desk to sit in his big luxury executive chair. He still hadn’t bothered with his shirt as he sat relaxed,

“So may I ask who you are and why the hell you’re here shouting the odds at
me
in
my
office?” When Jackson spoke it was in a strong authoritative tone. The man had remained standing, then he spoke,

“Okay, I’m here about Rebecca Keane.”

Yes he was right; it was the guy from the other night. He sat there, was this the prick that had hit Rebecca? That’s why she had wanted to leave, because of him, had he followed them there?

Jackson could feel his hands clench tighter, into fists, he raised an eyebrow, nodding his head as the suited man spoke

“Yes I know Rebecca Keane” he could feel the anger in himself rise which he controlled as she calmly spoke;

“You’re not much of a man, coming into my office” he rose from his chair and moved around his desk towards the man,

“Mate, you have some nerve coming into my office, what do you think you’re a big man because you hit a woman?”

Jackson was now in the man’s face and looking him square in the eye. They were roughly the same height and build, both men now squaring up to each other.

”I’ve NEVER and would NEVER hit Rebecca, That wasn’t me, you’ve got the wrong guy and I’m not your fucking mate, mate”.

Both men now were looking for a reason for things to kickoff. The tension in the air was ready to be ignited. It would take the slightest thing to make it so.

The tension mounted, it was only interrupted by the door reopening and Thomas Peak walking in proclaiming in his every so well spoken English accent as they sweat beaded on his reddening forehead.

“What the hell is going on here? Jackson, don’t tell me it’s another fucking husband or boyfriend coming here to have it out with you again? Really Jackson again?”

Both men had still not backed down, still squaring off with each other. Mandy was stood at the threshold of the door, awaiting a nod of ‘
Go call security
a code red situation as it was affectionately called in the office from Mr. Peak, who was standing close to the two men.

“Look I’m sorry if this man-whore has had your wife, girlfriend or whatever, but this is a place of work”

Thomas Peak was now pleading with the man whom had barged into his partner’s office. Thomas wasn’t known for his tact.

Mandy stood there at the door cringing with every word that fell out of the stupid oaths mouth. Thomas wasn’t partially liked in the office due to his leering and sexual innuendos. He was beyond creepy, unlike Jackson Harvey.

“I just want to know where she is?” the man exclaimed,

Jackson stood firm, neither man had broken eye contact.

Poor Mandy was still awaiting the code red look from Thomas Peak, wondering what to do. Jackson’s fists still clenched at his sides ready to strike at the man at any moment, the suited man saw Jackson’s fists ready to strike

“I’m not bloody David Rosenberg, if that’s what you think”

So that was his name the fucker who had hit her, David Rosenberg. So who the hell was this?

It more than what Rebecca had told him. He had spoken to her but she had never ever said his name. And now he knew.

Knowing he had the advantage of being in
his
office, and that Mandy ready to run to her desk to call security, he spoke in a gruffer voice

“So who the hell are you? Barging into my office?” he still stood firm, after all it was his office.

Thomas could see neither of the two men backing down anytime soon. In fact he could see quite the opposite, he walked to them his arms flaying wildly in the air,

“Look Gentlemen, nothing will be sorted like this”, he was pleading with both men now seeing that neither was moving an inch. He continued

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