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Authors: Thomas Kennedy

Tags: #business, #domination, #alcoholic, #irish fiction, #irish gay, #irish romance, #romance adult

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BOOK: Twisted Love and Money
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Jeremy was
delighted when David was agreeable. With luck he would be able to
be back in Dorothy’s flat early in the evening. And he had not
exactly told a lie. After all Dorothy was an accountant.

Chapter
seventeen

 

 

“I have run
away from home,” Ann-Marie announced.

Dorothy looked
at her open mouthed. Then she stood back.

“You had better
come in.”

Ann-Marie went
into Dorothy’s apartment.

“You have set
the table for two,” Ann-Marie said as she came into the living
room. “I’m sorry I must be intruding.”

“Nonsense, sit
down. I’m expecting Jeremy but he is not here yet.”

Ann-Marie sat
on the couch and wrung her hands.

“I’m supposed
to see Seamus. You know, the boy with the motorbike. I am supposed
to see him outside Eason’s.”

“And?”

“And mommy said
I can’t meet him anymore.” Ann-Marie wept, “She said he was not
suitable,” Ann-Marie was sniffing and a tear trickled down her
cheek.

“Shut up
Ann-Marie, you are always over-dramatizing. What did you say to
mother?” Dorothy demanded. As far as she was concerned Ann-Marie
was always spoiled and self-indulgent.

Ann-Marie wiped
a tear and looked at her sister with a hurt expression.

“Sorry.”
Dorothy relented, sitting down and taking Ann-Marie’s hand. “I’m no
good when there are tears Ann-Marie.”

Ann-Marie
sniffed.

“I told mommy
that she was a drunken old bag. Well! She went for me.”

“I’m not
surprised.”

“I shrieked and
ran to Daddy. Then he…” Ann-Marie was tearful again, “then he
backed her up. Said I was wasting my time on a motorbike freak.
It’s not fair they don’t know him. How would they know? He’s
lovely, he really is. He...”

“I know, I
know. Remember I met him. Do you really want to end up hitched to a
biker?”

“Who said
anything about hitched? I’m much too young to marry.”

“You have to
think ahead, start as you intend to finish.”

“He is
gorgeous.”

“I know. But
are you being fair to him? He could fall for you and then you would
drop him when you fancied someone else. Is that fair?”

“No, I
suppose,” Ann-Marie pouted, “ I only want to see him again. We
really got on.”

“When were you
to see him?”

“Tomorrow,
outside Eason’s.”

“Do mother and
father know?”

“Yes, I told
them.”

“And they said
you were not to see him.”

“Yes,”
Ann-Marie said, in a tone that suggested the attitude of her
parents was beyond normal comprehension.

“Why not do as
they say?”

“I’d die.”

“Ann-Marie, I
have to ring Father.”

“Don’t!”

“If I don’t
father may call the police. They will think you have disappeared.
They could even get your biker thrown in jail.”

“Nonsense.”

“I don’t know.
Father is rich. He may allege kidnapping or something. Or at worst
he could use his influence to get Seamus fired.”

“I am going to
see Seamus again.”

“O.K., but at
least let me ring mother and tell her that you are here. That way
at least they can stop worrying about where you are.”

Ann-Marie
sniffed again, but did not protest.

Dorothy went
into the kitchen and dialled home.

“Hello.”

“Mother?”

“Yes
Dorothy?”

“Ann-Marie is
here.”

“Thank God… We
had a fight and she ran away. Or at least drove away, in the
Landover.”

“Don’t worry
about her mother.”

“Dorothy, I
don’t want her seeing that young man. He is unsuitable.”

“All right
mother, I’ll do my best.”

“Will I send
father to fetch her? I can get him on his mobile.”

“Tell him to
collect her tomorrow. A night here will probably settle her.”

“Is that
convenient for you Dorothy?”
“What can I do?”

“All right.
Don’t let her out of your sight. I don’t trust her, and certainly
not with that biker. She has been moody ever since she met
him.”

“Bye mother,”
Dorothy said. She had too much anger at her mother to want a
prolonged conversation.

 

What to do, she
asked herself with a frown. The one sure way to get Ann-Marie to
want something was to tell her that she could not have it.

“Ann-Marie?”
she asked when she returned, “do you know this boy’s mobile
number?”

“No.”

“Where he
works?”

“Yes, he is a
courier with O’Donoghue’s. He is a motorbike courier.”

“I have a
suggestion Ann-Marie.”

“What Dorothy?”
again Ann-Marie was impatient.

“Let me ring
the O’Donoghue business offices tomorrow and talk to him on your
behalf. Ann-Marie, what I’ll do is make an excuse and cancel
him.”

“What!”
Ann-Marie was vehement, but Dorothy silenced her with a raised
hand.

“Let the dust
settle and in a week or so get in touch with him again and
apologize for changing the date. Or if you like I will cancel the
date but give him a phone number, your mobile number, and he can
connect again and make a date. That is assuming he is still
interested.”

“You mean, and
not tell mother?” Ann-Marie asked a conspiratorial look in her
eye.

“What she does
not know can’t hurt her.”

“No, I won’t
lie.”

“Ann-Marie,”
Dorothy asked, pleadingly.

“No.” Ann-Marie
hugged herself into a ball on the couch and began to weep
again.

“I’ll have to
send you to bed. You can’t sit here Ann-Marie. I am expecting
Jeremy.”

“See,”
Ann-Marie said with emphasis, “you have your boyfriend.”

“I’m over
twenty one, well over. You are still only a teenager.”

 

The buzzer went
on the front door.

“That will be
Jeremy. Dry your tears Ann-Marie.”

 

But it was
their father. Michael O’Byrne stormed in past Dorothy. He was red
in the face and angry.

“Ann-Marie, I
thought I would find you here.”

“Leave me
alone!”

“Either you
come home with me or I’ll ring the police and have your young biker
thrown in Jail. I can do it. Either you don’t see him again or I’ll
ruin him. It’s up to you.”

“That’s not
fair!”

“Fair be
dammed. I’m not letting a daughter of mine throw herself at some
filthy biker. You stick to your own class, young lady. You should
be ashamed of yourself.”

“I am not
ashamed. I hate you!” Ann-Marie screamed.

 

The door buzzed
again. This time it was Jeremy. Dorothy ushered him in. He had
heard the shouting and when he saw who was there he guessed that it
was a family row. He was highly embarrassed.

 

“Father, this
is my friend Jeremy.”

Michael shot
Jeremy a withering glance and ignored his outstretched hand. He
turned to Ann-Marie.

“Are you coming
willingly or do I have to drag you out by the scruff of the neck,”
he demanded.

 

Ann-Marie felt
cornered. She knew her Dad had a fierce temper when he was crossed.
Somehow, now that Jeremy had arrived, she felt she had nowhere to
hide. Seeing her hesitation, Michael grabbed her by the arm and
frog marched her out.

“I’ll collect
the Landover another time. Good evening Jeremy, I am sorry we
cannot stay. Excuse us.”

 

Michael closed
the door behind him with a bang, leaving Jeremy and Dorothy
alone.

They looked at
each other and smiled.

“You are late,”
Dorothy said.

“Does that make
me a bold boy?” Jeremy asked, anxious.

“Yes,” Dorothy
said and kissed him. Jeremy put his arms around her waist and
kissed her nose.

“Does this mean
the horse whip?” he asked looking solemnly into her eyes.

“Would you let
me?”

“I would not
ask you to. But if you wanted to, if you felt that I deserved
it.”

“No sweet, not
tonight. Come on, I have your tea nearly ready.”

Dorothy sat him
at the table. It was already laid out with salads and rolls. She
re-heated a steak and kidney pie in the microwave, and she shared
it out between them.

“Tabasco,”
Dorothy said as she sat down.

“Pardon?”

“Do you know
what Tabasco is?” Dorothy asked.

“Yes. It is a
very spicy sauce.”

“Well Jeremy…
Take Tabasco and whips. The horsewhip can be our Tabasco sauce. We
can use it now and then. But like everything, what is rare is
wonderful. We can have it on the menu but we should explore the
full course of sexuality together.”

Jeremy flushed
in embarrassment. “Dorothy sweet, I don’t know if I am able.”

“Of course you
can Jeremy. If you falter I’ll threaten the horsewhip that will get
you started. Don’t worry sweet; you just need a little guidance.
Let me be your mentor.”

Jeremy said
nothing and tucked into his pie. He felt relaxed with Dorothy, in
safe hands.

Dorothy chatted
on about her day and then stopped. There was a moment’s silence.
Jeremy realized Dorothy had noticed how worried he was. The weight
of the afternoon, the worry of David’s arrival would not go out of
his head.

“Jeremy, what’s
up? What is on your mind?”

“David.”

“I see,”
Dorothy sounded cold.

“No, not like
that. It’s just, He came today.”

“Yes?”

“Dorothy, I
told him about us.”

“And?”

“First he was
devastated. Then he seemed to accept.”

“Have you left
him?” Dorothy asked softly, hoping.

“No.” Jeremy
looked at Dorothy with pained eyes, “Dorothy, I have lived my life
with David. I can’t just walk out on him. It is not like that. I
cannot just crush him.”

“Tell me what
happened?” Dorothy spoke softly, pressing Jeremy’s hand. He held
her hand.

“I told him I
had met you. That we were friends. I did not tell him that we have
become lovers.”

“Did you show
him your backside?”

“No I did not.”
Jeremy denied, squirming in embarrassment.

“Where do we go
from here Jeremy?” Dorothy asked after another silence.

 

The silence
grew. Dorothy filled the space by pouring them both a cup of
tea.

 

“I need time,”
Jeremy offered.

“Time?”

“Time to tell
him. Time to break it”

“To tell him
what Jeremy?”

“To tell him
that we are involved.”

“Involved?”

“Yes. Please
give me some slack Dorothy. Christ, I have known David for nearly
twenty years. You and I have just met. I have to be sure.”

“Sure of what?”
Dorothy demanded.

“Sure that I
will love you Dorothy,” he responded earnestly, squeezing her
hand.

“I think I’ve
fallen for you Jeremy. I don’t know why but I feel you are Mr.
Right. I’ve been around Jeremy. I know we can fit together like a
glove on a hand.”

“Dorothy,”
Jeremy sounded full of sweet surrender.

“Will you let
him make love to you tonight? she asked after a moment.

“No, of course
not. We have to be careful how we behave in Ireland. I told him we
shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t?”

“Do you believe
me?”

“I believe you
Jeremy.”

 

“I have to go
soon,” Jeremy said after another silence.


Why Jeremy? I had imagined we would spend the Ni... the rest
of the evening together.”

“I told David I
had to see an Accountant on a property deal. You remember the
people we met?” Jeremy looked abashed at the memory. “I used that
as an excuse. I have to go back. There are too many ties that bind
Dorothy for me just to quit on David. Think of me and David a
married couple, I need time…. Give me time please.”

“What will you
do with David?”
“We have a lot of business to discuss.”

“What business?
You told me you worked in a dress shop. Then you sprang property
deals on me. What do you really do Jeremy?”

“I own. Or more
precisely David and me are partners, we own Jeremy & David’s,
the fashion shop chain.”

“Jeremy &
David’s? Jesus I never connected. That’s a huge public company.
Why, he, I mean David. He must be loaded. Is he a millionaire?”

“Yes, he owns
about ten percent. He is the designer and front of house. They say
he is worth about a hundred million.”

“Who owns the
rest?” Dorothy’s accounting training made her curious.

“Thirty percent
is with mainly the institutions. As you know it is a public
company.”

“A huge public
company. And the remaining sixty percent is that with the general
public?”

“No, as a
matter of fact about ten percent is held by smallish shareholders
and I own the rest.” Jeremy admitted as if he was making a guilty
confession.

“But, if ten
percent is a hundred millions worth, then, then Jeremy, you must be
worth five hundred million. My god, and I horse whipped you.”

“To tell the
full truth now it’s out. I’m worth a bit more than that. Funny
thing is David and I worked our butts off for that business but I,
almost accidentally, made more elsewhere.”

“Oh how,
Jeremy?”

 

She was looking
carefully at Jeremy, realizing there was more to the man she had
fallen in love with than she had ever imagined. He seemed to be a
businessman out of her league and possibly her father’s.

 

“Funny thing
is, I’ve been very successful in property. I made tens of millions
in the nineteen eighties, and hundreds of millions in the nineteen
nineties and so on. I don’t do much property development now, just
the odd flutter to keep my hand in. I just keep a conservative
portfolio of shares and property.”

“Jeremy,”
Dorothy was speechless. She could sense he was not spinning her a
line.

BOOK: Twisted Love and Money
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ads

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