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“Okay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

24. Dylan

Ifound myself awkwardly squirming in my seat the next morning, being served up perfection in a cup by a discreet waiter, who seemed to slide in and disappear again before I could thank him for his service.

It made me a little uncomfortable on top of the discomfort between my cheeks. The lower ones.

So. Sex. Awesome. I hadn’t been lying when I had told Stewart how much I had enjoyed our interactions. All of them, actually. And that it truly didn’t matter if Iorgasmed or not, because what I needed was exactly what he gave me. Over and over again.

Calm. Want. Need. All in one silvery-weathered-man package.

It made me smile, and Gun snorted.

“You’re distracted, and my time is limited,” she said, and took a sip of her espresso, the distinctly comforting scent filling the air. The coffee here was exceptionally good; I had to give them that.

“How’s Mr Schiller?”

“Very well, thank you.” This was business. In public. I had no idea why I was smiling.

“I’m assuming he’s been offered the use of the driver’s lounge. He is more than welcome to come up here as my guest.”

“Thank you.” This was, again, business, not a family gathering. How weird that I was thinking that.

“I have a few things to go over with you, now that our plan is in motion. We’re almost there, and I am most pleased. As I said, these kinds of frivolities amuse me to no end.”

“I wouldn’t call it a frivolity,” I said, leaning forward. What was I doing? Standing up to Gun Larsen of all people?

“I am not immune to your upset, at me using language like that, but I know you, Dylan. And it has been an absolute pleasure for me to pick this mess apart on your behalf.”

A small snort. I wasn’t disagreeing with her. Not at all.

“Who would have thought? We were once young university students,” I started, as she laughed.

“I remember you well. And yet here we are. I’m so happy Stewart rang me. I owe him a lot.”

“How so?”

Personal questions. Who was I, and what had happened to me? Sitting here conversing with a woman who should be frightening the life out of me, the woman who held my future in her very delicate-looking hands.

“Well, someone like me. I chose very early on in life to remain independent and childless. I never craved a home or a family. I married the law, and he has been a very fruitful partner. But we all need something in life. A little kindness now and then. Stewart Schiller was the sole reason I spent over two hundred nights in that hotel of his. Because he cared. He welcomed me home, ensuredI had what I required, and never once declined any of my requests. I have to tell you, some of my requests were unconventional, but you know me. I require the finer elements in life. I like to spoil myself. Did he tell you I once needed a handbag to exactly match my suit? I had a client who was doing my head in with her need for fancy handbags and matching jewellery, so I decided to play her at her own game. She kept complaining that she was on a waiting list for a certain bag in a certain colour, which, by the way, was the exact shade of my fancy suit, and that her husband—well, by then ex-husband—wasn’t providing enough of a settlement to cater to her whims. Ridiculous woman, but she rubbed me the wrong way. I like a game or two. I like a little amusement. Life would be awfully dull without it, don’t you agree?”

I liked how we sat here, sipping coffee on a Monday morning, my stomach in turmoil, my arse itching, but still I had a smile on my face.

“I agree,” I said. I meant it. I liked a little amusement myself. New amusements. Very entertaining…encounters.

“So, I tried my usual concierge service. No luck. Tried the designer. Not a chance. Didn’t even entertain an appointment so I could get my claws in that lowly sales assistant. Did you know you have to butter up yoursales assistants in some shops to even set foot in their showroom? I had enough money in the bank to buy the bloody building, let alone put that place out of business. Ridiculous. But then, money can’t buy you everything. You and I both know that.”

I nodded.

“So I rang Stewart, blurted out my frustration and needs, and he told me to leave it with him. Stewart was no ordinary doorman at that place. He knew every guest, knew our whims, and was very well connected. Not bad for a boy who grew up on a council estate in Peckham.”

“How did you know that?”

Silly question. Of course she knew.