Masked Definitions (13 page)

In reality I don’t feel much guilt for what I did. I only feel shame at my lack of control.

“I can’t believe we have a budget for bigger house,” I say to try and flip my thoughts from being pounded into a wall in the best way, to my husband and our future.

“Me neither,” Max calls back, his voice full of excitement. “We’ll get up early tomorrow. If we can get something for around one thirty K, we’ll have enough cash left to make repairs and fit whatever needs fitting.”

“That we will.”

“Okay, I’m going to the laundrette.”

“See you later,” I call and hear him yell that he loves me before slamming the door closed behind him. I fully submerge myself in the water and remain under there until my lungs hurt.

“She loves it,” Max says and he’s right. I do. We found such a gorgeous little house on the outskirts of York. It only took two days and six viewings, but this is the one. I just know it. “It’s the one she wants. It’s one eighty but it’s fine, we’re going to…” Max fist pumps and winks at me. I hate that he’s basically taking advantage of Elijah’s generosity, although their father does owe Max, even if he is dead. “Are you sure? We were going to get a loan for the extra thirty.” His grin broadens. “That’s really generous of you. Your solicitor said he’d sort the deeds and shit, right? Because I don’t have a clue.” He hooks his arm around my neck and kisses my temple. “This is fucking brilliant. What would I do without you, Bro?”

They speak for a few moments longer before hanging up the phone. I stare at the images of the house we’re buying once more, my own smile weak, but there.

“Remind me to get my MP3 player off him when I see him next.”

“Tomorrow then, we’re signing the shit tomorrow.”

“We are?” I ask, confused. “That seems a bit sudden.”

“Money makes the world spin, Babe.”

He’s not wrong. “So when can we move in?”

“Not a clue.” He makes a squelching noise with his lips. “I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow.”

I nod and return to the images. I want to smile about it. I want to be happy but all I can think about is Elijah and why he’s buying us this house. Is it with good intentions or does he have an agenda?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that good intentions don’t exist; there’s always an agenda.

When the night comes and Max leaves for work, I contact Rick. I have promised him that I’ll be coming back to work starting Monday. He’s offering to pay me more which is great. I just want to sort this out with Elijah first, but I doubt I’ll get the chance to visit him in private tomorrow. The thrill of the dance seems to have died. Maybe it’s because the fear of getting caught was the thrill and now that I’ve been caught, it’s pretty self-explanatory. That and we now hopefully have a new house, which is why I started dancing in the first place. Or it’s why I convinced myself to start dancing.

Especially now that Penelope just texted me:
 

Penelope
:
I’ll be in York tomorrow. There’s this ridiculous formal charity dinner that we have to attend tomorrow night. I’ll see you in the afternoon.

Great, yet another weight on my shoulders. Although, maybe hearing her admit that she and Elijah are nothing will help relieve said weight.

Here’s hoping. I can’t stand to be the woman that creeps around with another woman’s man. Dancing is different. I’m not lying to her face; I’m just providing a service. All men see a stripper; some see them regularly. It’s not different to porn. It’s just more realistic and less… fuck. I don’t even believe my own reasoning.

Olivia
:
See you then.

And see her then I do. She greets me the second I walk into Elijah’s house. He is nowhere in sight. Max is led upstairs by Stefan, Elijah’s assistant, to deal with paperwork and I’m dragged away like a little woman. I don’t like it. I want to read it all before he signs it. Max promises me he won’t sign anything without me being there. I don’t believe him.

“You look stunning.” She grins, passing me a cup of tea.

“As do you.” She really does. I bet she always looks glamorous. Her hair is far too neat; her nails are done beautifully. It makes me envious. I rely on how I wake up in the morning as my level of perfection. I literally wake up, throw clothes on, sometimes mascara, and I’m good to go. Being Enna always makes me feel glamorous. Maybe that’s why I dance? Why am I suddenly wondering why I dance? It’s obvious; I need the money, although our goal is met and I’m still going to continue dancing.

Fuck my head hurts.

“So, you’re at a charity function tonight?”

“Yes and I have decided that you and Max are to attend with us. I already have you a dress picked out and ready.”

My mouth drops open. “I can’t…”

“You can and you will.” She pulls a bag out from a drawer and places it on the counter. “I’ll do your nails and hair. You have such lovely hair.” The zipper sounds as she peels it open and empties the contents carefully onto the worktop.

She places a bottle of metallic silver nail polish in front of me, alongside two unused nail files, still in their thin, transparent plastic wrappings.

“I…”

“Max requires you,” comes a voice from the doorway. I turn to see Stefan standing there. His curly hair is pulled back into a short ponytail. It’s cute. He smiles warmly at me. “He wants you to read through the deed.”

Thank goodness for that. I was worried he wouldn’t invite me at all. “Coming.”

“Go sign the paperwork and meet me in my room when you’re done.” She winks and waves me away.

“I like the silver one,” I admit, pointing at the bottle as she puts it away. “If you’re going to insist on making me pretty, I like that one.”

“I’ll add some black gems. Your nails will look amazing.”

Grinning, I follow Stefan up the stairs. We make small talk based on the weather and work as we go before I finally reach the study. I feel like chewing my nails off; I’m just that anxious.

I’ve not seen the study before. It’s such a lovely, spacious room. The fireplace is my favourite feature, though I dislike how the desk is in the middle of the room. I’d hate having my back to such an open space.

“Hey, Gorgeous.” Max grins and pats the seat beside him. I avoid looking at the man who has been the bane of my thoughts and focus on the scattered papers across the desk. Elijah’s solicitor shakes my hand before I sit. I remember him as the person that visited us before Max and Elijah were introduced.

“So we can’t move in for two weeks,” Max explains immediately and I focus on his face, unwilling to look anywhere near the man across the desk. “But our lease ends in two days, so Elijah is letting us stay here to save us from having to pay another month.”

“What?” My eyes finally connect with those steely greys that plague my soul. “I mean… that’s so kind of you.” His face is blank; he gives nothing away. I wish I could read minds.

My hands begin to sweat. My hands never sweat. I clench them into fists and feel my nails bite into my palms.

“So…”

I’m handed papers with stickers and crosses showing me where to sign.

“I don’t understand this mumbo jumbo.” Max admits, looking sheepish. He struggles with reading, always has. I know it embarrasses him so I don’t draw attention to it.

“No problem.” I place my hand on his on the table to give him some small form of comfort and I immediately notice how Elijah’s eyes jump to where I’m joined to my husband. He looks up at me and his eyes narrow with no small amount of disgust.

I understand his thoughts, despite the fact I can’t see or hear them. He probably thinks himself above me in this little game we are playing because he and his wife are no longer in love, if they were ever in love that is.

But he is just as bad, if not more so.

I won’t take the blame for our actions. Not the full blame, at least.

“Would you like us to give you a moment?” Elijah asks as I pull my eyes back to the paperwork in my free hand.

“If you feel it necessary,” I state, reading the first few lines of the agreement. “This won’t take me long.”

I’ve seen deeds before. I researched them online a few days ago. I’m no solicitor but this one is pretty standard.

I hand it back to Sir Wilson, who taps it against the table in order to neaten it.

“You’re good,” I say to my husband. He grins and takes a pen from the desk. His hand moves quickly across the pages as he signs each one. “So, can’t we convince our landlord to let us stay until the date we leave?”

“We’ll save money if we stay here,” Max points out.

“And money is everything,” Elijah says, his voice monotone. “Wouldn’t you agree, Olivia?”

What is he playing at? I ignore him.

Max doesn’t; he responds with an ineloquent, “Huh?”

“I just mean that, these days, people will go to great lengths for just a few extra pounds in the bank. Won’t they?”

I glare at him until Max begins to grow suspicious of the sudden change in air.

“I’m going to leave you boys to it, unless there’s anything else?”

“No.” Max says as Sir Wilson says, “That’s all to be signed.”

“You now own your own home,” Elijah bites out, his tone laced heavily with disdain. “Congratulations.”

I’m not sure that I’ve warranted that attitude or tone, but I say nothing as I turn and leave. It’s pointless. It’ll only stir a pot that doesn’t need to be stirred right now.

“I’ll be down soon,” Max calls after me. I see his frown aimed at the man being so rude to me but I know he won’t say anything. 

I close the door quietly behind me and rush down the stairs and towards Penelope’s room.

What is Elijah’s problem?

I don’t have time to dwell on it as Penelope has me in her room, on her plush little couch under the window and has paint on my nails faster than I can blink. She yaps on about new designers and I wonder what it’s like being separated from your husband. I figure it must be frustrating and sad.

“How long have you and Elijah been…” I motion to the room.

She doesn’t even look up from my nails. “Over a year now.”

“That’s awful.”

She blows out a breath. “It has its bad moments.”

“Can I ask…” I let my voice trail off. I’m being far too nosey.

Her brown eyes come to mine. “We weren’t exactly lovers to begin with. We dated each other because we were well suited.” I nod for her to continue as she dips the nail brush into the silver, metallic polish and carefully glides it over my pinkie nail. “The first year was amazing. We…” She looks to the bed and her cheeks flush with pink. “Did that a lot but then we started to realise that beyond the bedroom we had very little in common. His job took him away from me a lot and mine from him.”

“What a shame.”

“Yes, well.” Clearing her throat, she twists the lid back on the polish and gives me a pointed look. “Don’t move your hands.” I keep my palms flat against the green, cushion seat and keep my fingers splayed. “You and Max fell in love?”

“Back in school,” I tell her and then realise that she’s waiting for the full story. “We were in Primary school when we met. I’d just moved to town with my mother.”

“No siblings?”

“Two half-brothers, but we’ve only met twice. They’re a lot younger than me and my dad doesn’t want me in their lives.”

“That’s awful.”

“That’s unfortunately life in this day and age.” She nods her understanding and waits for me to go on. “Max was obsessed with me from day one.” My smile is wistful. “And in the beginning, after that first three months of him following me home, I lapped it up. We started properly dating age fourteen, took each other’s virginity age fifteen and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Nine years?”

“Yep.”

“That’s crazy. You both still look so happy together.”

I help her pack away her things and wait for her to reveal to me my new dress. Unfortunately, she ropes me into doing my hair and makeup first. It’s a good thing her desk is big enough for two.

I can’t lie; this is actually quite fun.

She teaches me how to pin my hair up in an elegant twist, leaving a few tendrils of hair trickling down my neck to the curve of my breasts. I wonder if she’d be this kind if she knew I’d fucked her husband against the wall.

I’m a masochist. It won’t leave my head.

“You’re stunning; your eyes are so alluring.” Penelope frowns playfully as though my beauty offends her.

“Don’t start. You know you’re fit.”

Even her laughter sounds beautiful.

I wait for her to finish curling the ends of her hair before pinning it into a similar twist to my own. She accessorises with a set of the prettiest diamond drop earrings I’ve ever seen.

“I would give you some jewellery but for the dress you’re wearing, anything around your neck will detract from it.”