Lilly (Angel Series Book 3) Page 6
“So he just randomly sends you food for no reason?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Your boss, who you say is an epic dickhead—”
“I’ve never said that,” I interrupt.
“Okay, so you’re too polite to use those exact words, but that’s what you meant.” I can’t exactly argue with that, so I let her continue. “So, as I was saying, your dickhead boss has suddenly started sending you food while you’re cleaning his room. I call bullshit, Lilly. It sounds like he wants more than his room cleaning, if you know what I mean,” she says with a wink.
Why do I have to have such pale skin? I can’t hide even the smallest of blushes.
“OH MY GOD,” Connie squeals. “You have cleaned more than his room, haven’t you?”
I drop my head in my hands and groan. I’m starting to think her shoving Noah in my arms would have been less painful than this.
“Lilly, come on, I need details. The last you told me about this guy was that he was a slick Rick with a fancy suit and a bad attitude. How did you end up falling into bed with him?”
I lay it all out for her. It actually feels good telling someone the whole story. Taylor only knows bits and pieces, and I haven’t told Nicole anything—she has too much of her own stuff to deal with without me landing my drama on her. She sits and listens to the whole sorry story and bites her tongue until I’ve finished.
“Oh my God, he sounds hot, Lilly—fancy pants businessman by day, bad boy in the sack by night. On a more serious note though, I can’t believe you had a one-night stand with your boss. That is so unlike you.”
“I know. I still don’t know what came over me, other than the wine.”
“Or Lucas,” she interjects with a laugh that makes me blush again. “Sorry! So, anyway…what are you going to do?”
“No idea. I’ve thought about handing my notice in, just getting away, but I need the money and I really haven’t got the time to be worrying about starting something new. Plus, I’m almost at the end of my course and I’ll be looking for a design job soon enough. I just need to stick it out for a few months. With a bit of luck, he’ll stay in the shadows and I won’t have to worry about him.”
“But you will, because you’re cleaning his room and picking his fucking dirty underwear up off the floor.” I don’t mention that he’s too much of a neat freak for that to ever be one of my jobs.
Our conversation gets interrupted when Noah starts fussing in his chair.
“He needs a feed. Do you want to hold him while I go make a bottle?” Connie asks tentatively.
“I…uh,” I stutter, looking between her and the baby. ‘Yeah, sure,” I say when I realise I need to get a grip. I can’t let what happened rule my life. I want to enjoy my friend’s baby. I won’t let him take that from me as well.
“Okay?” she asks once Noah is settled in the crook of my arm.
“Yeah, I’m good. He’s a proper cutie, Con.”
A huge proud smile breaks across her face. “He is, just like his daddy. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Take your time. We’re good.” And I really mean it.
From as early I can remember, all I’ve wanted is kids of my own. I was obsessed with my dolls when I was a child. Although I always knew I wanted a career first, kids were always next on my list. When I was a teenager, it soon became clear that things weren’t as they were meant to be down there. I still held on to my hope that one day, when the time was right, it would still happen for me—even though my chances were low. I always hopped I’d be a younger mum and when I met Jake I thought maybe I’d get the chance. I had a wonderful boyfriend, uni was going well, and I had amazing friends and family. He was incredible, too good to be true almost, until his life was turned upside down and he found alcohol and drugs. It made him crazy.
I’d always sworn never to have anything to do with drugs. I should have ended it with him the day I found him with white powder on his nose but I rationalised he was going through a rough time and that it would get better. He promised it would. Well, it definitely didn’t, and he ended up taking away that small chance I had of ever having my own children.
Noah distracts me from my memories when he makes a cute gargling sound. I stare down at his cute face and little button nose. I was worried how I would feel, holding an almost newborn baby again. I had a complete meltdown the first few times I held Lois. Thankfully, Dec could see what was going on and rescued me. I was so relieved he was there, because I wouldn’t have been able to explain my freak out to everyone else without telling the truth, and I really didn’t want to do that.
This time it’s different, though. More time has passed and I’ve slowly been dealing with it all. When I look down at Noah now, all I feel is happiness for Connie and Fin; my anger and pain is barely noticeable. To say I’m relieved would be an understatement. I hated the idea of having to stay away because I couldn’t handle it.
Connie looks a little teary eyed when she comes back in and sees that Noah is still cuddled in my arms.
“You’ll make a great mum one day, Lils. Just because you might not be able to carry your own, doesn’t mean you won’t get the chance.”
“I know,” I say, looking back down at his little face. And I do. I’ve realised in the past eight months that even though I won’t carry my own children, I won’t allow it to stop me from having what I’ve always wanted. I’ve been brought up to believe that everything happens for a reason, so maybe I was never meant to carry my own—maybe I was always meant to adopt. When the time is right, there might be a child or two out there who need a good home and a loving family, and I will welcome them with loving arms as if they are my own. I can’t imagine anything more rewarding than giving someone the life they deserve.
“Shall I take him or do you want to feed him?” Connie says, dragging me from my inner musings.
“Can I do it?” I say to my utter shock. I’ve never fed a baby before, so this will be an experience.
By the time I need to leave Connie’s, she has to practically rip Noah from me. I knew I’d love him, but having him sleeping in my arms contently made me realise how quickly I’d fallen for the little guy. I give him a gentle kiss on the forehead before handing him back to his mummy and saying goodbye.
I head straight to my parents’ house for our monthly Sunday dinner that my mum still insists on, although more often than not only half of us are in attendance these days. When I arrive, I see it’s only Emma, her husband Ruben and me today.
“Oh my goodness, Lilly, you are looking really well,” Mum says as I enter the kitchen to join everyone.
“She’s right, you look really good,” Emma agrees. It’s the third time I’ve heard similar things today, and I’m starting to realise how bad I must have looked. I know I lost a lot of weight, but I didn’t realise everyone had noticed so much. It makes me wonder how much they believed about the lie I spun about having the flu. Dec swore to me that he didn’t tell anyone, and I believe him. I know he wouldn’t break my trust, but seeing their reactions to how I’m looking now really makes me wonder.
As always, lunch is amazing and the conversation is easy as we all chat about our lives and what we’ve been up to. Emma tells us about her latest book and Mum fills us in on stories of Lois. Molly and Ryan have taken her away on her first holiday and are currently up in the Lake District.
I’m in a really good mood by the time I get home. I have the place to myself so change into my pyjamas and get some uni work done.
When I curl up in bed my thoughts, as they often do, turn to Lucas. I hate that he still fills up my headspace, but I can’t shift him. He’s made some kind of impact on me and I wish it would stop.
Everything seems normal when I walk into Lucas’ room. Well, that is until I turn the corner to the en suite.
“Oh my God, Lucas,” I say in a panic as I run towards his lifeless figure on the tiled floor.
I didn’t expect him to be dead, but I’m seriously relieved when I
see no blood. I couch down next to him and place my hand on his shoulder. His skin is burning to touch and he’s covered in sweat, yet he’s shaking.
“Lucas,” I say gently, but there’s no response. I try again, with a shake to his shoulder this time.
It does the trick and he starts groaning. His eyes open to slits as he looks at me. “Go away,” he says croakily before shutting his eyes again.
“Don’t be so damn stubborn. Come on, we’re getting you into bed.” God knows how long he’s been lying on the tiled floor.
“No,” he groans but I can’t just leave him here.
When I stand up, I notice the state of the toilet and decide for myself what’s wrong with him. I quickly flush it before attempting to pull him up from the floor.
He refuses to help and lies there like a dead weight for ages. He must realise that I’m being serious about getting him off the cold floor because eventually he helps by pushing himself up.
I help him towards his bed the best I can. He’s way too heavy for me to take the weight; if he didn’t put some effort in then he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
He drops down on to the bed and lies back, throwing his arms over his eyes and letting out a huge breath.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask quietly.
“No, just leave.” No sooner have the words left his mouth does he start retching. I run out to where I dropped my stuff and grab my cleaning supply bucket. I get back just in time. He snatches it from me before sticking his head in it.
I stand there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, until I decide to sit down next to him. I place my hand on his back and slowly rub up and down, admiring his artwork. What he hides underneath his suit is all bad boy.
“That’s why I was in the bathroom,” he complains when he’s finished.
“Just lie back. I’ll sort this out.”
Thankfully he does as he’s told, and by the time I come back with a clean bucket he’s fast asleep. He’s lying like he was earlier, on his back with his arm thrown over. I run my eyes down his chest and abs before taking in his cotton pyjama trousers that are hanging low and giving me a great shot of his V lines.
I shake my head and give myself a good talking to. He’s sick, and here I am checking out his body!
I put the bowl on the floor next to him before grabbing him a glass of water and placing it on his bed side table for when he wakes up. I then set about cleaning the bathroom. I’ve no idea if it’s a bug or something he ate, but I get the bleach out just in case.
He’s still out cold when I’m finished, so I pull his bedroom door to and make myself busy in the living area.
It’s almost an hour later when I hear his phone ringing.
I grab it from the coffee table and answer it before really thinking. I just wanted to stop it ringing in case it woke him.
“H…hello. Lucas?” a soft female voice asks.
“Uh…no...it’s his…cleaner.”
“Oh um…Is he there?”
“He is, but he’s in bed.”
“That’s what I feared. Both him and my husband had the seafood platter last night and Joe’s been up all night. I just thought I’d check on Lucas.”
“It looks like he’s been up all night, too.”
We exchange a few more words before she says her goodbye and I hang up.
When I glance at the clock and see the time, I realise Lucas probably has meetings and stuff planned that someone is going to have to do something about.
I pick his phone back up and call one person I really don’t want to speak to.
“Good morning, Lucas,” she sings when she picks up.
“Catherine, it’s Lilly.”
“Who?”
“Lucas’ cleaner,” I answer, hating the way it sounds. It doesn’t feel like the right description, although it’s the truth.
“Can I help?” she snarls.
“Lucas is ill in bed. I thought I should let you know so you can cancel anything he had planned.”
“I’m sure he’s capable of telling me that himself,” she snaps. I’m taken back by her attitude. “I’ll be up to see him as soon as I get in. I suggest you go home, Poppy.”
“It’s Lilly,” I correct. I don’t know why I bother, though; it’s obvious she did it on purpose.
I bite back any response that would be unprofessional—she is kind of my boss, after all—and choose to thank her and say goodbye politely. Okay, so I say it way too politely and sweetly in the hope it annoys her.
Lucas
I roll over and instantly regret it. My stomach turns over and I begin the heave again. I lean over the bed and am surprised to see a bucket waiting for me. I’m thankful it’s there, however it got there. I reach out and grab it before throwing up for the thousandth time since leaving the restaurant last night. I knew the seafood platter was a bad idea, but the scallops in that place are award winning and I couldn’t resist.
I rest myself back against the headboard when a banging on my hotel room door starts. I go to swing my legs off the bed when I hear movement in the living area. Suddenly, images of her blonde hair filter into my brain, memories to her finding me on the bathroom floor, making me get up and then passing me a bucket when I was sick again.
Staying away from her these last few weeks has been a challenge, to say the least. Knowing that every morning she’s here making sure everything is clean and in its place has been torture. If I’m honest with myself, I was too scared to show my face. I’ve haven’t allowed myself to care about anyone for a very long time. I hate letting people close to me—especially new people. There are very few in my life that I trust—five, to be exact—and I’m more than happy with that number. I don’t need a little blonde haired beauty upsetting my well-structured life.
“I already told you he’s in bed ill,” I hear her say when I eventually make it to the doorway.
“And I told you to go home,” a very familiar voice snaps back.
“Oh, here we go,” I groan to myself as I make my way towards them.
“I’m not—” Lilly starts, but I interrupt whatever she was going to say.
“Enough,” I state when I have them in my sights. “I won’t be in today, Catherine. Please cancel everything in my diary. Actually, cancel tomorrow as well, while you’re at it,” The longer I stay upright, the more I realise that I’m not going to be fit for a few days. “Then you can leave.”
Both of them look at me with shocked eyes. Okay, so maybe that came out a little harshly.
“You need someone to look after you,” Catherine says so sweetly it sets my teeth on edge. Why I ever went there, God only knows.
“I’m good, thank you. Now, you’ve got work to do,” I say, dismissing her.
I stand and watch as she stares at me for a few seconds longer before turning her hard stare on Lilly.
“Grab your stuff then,” she snarls.
Lilly turns to do as she’s told, but I’m soon behind her with my hands on her shoulders. “Goodbye, Catherine. Only contact me if it’s urgent.” With that said, I reach around Lilly and swing the door shut.
Chapter Six
Lilly
“She’s right, I should go if you’re feeling better. I just thought you might have needed something, but now you’re up…” I ramble while removing myself from his grasp.
“I’m only feeling better if you stay.”
“What?” I ask, thinking I must have heard him wrong.
“I’m sure I’ll feel much worse if you leave, so I think you should stay.”
“You’re blackmailing me into staying with you.”
He makes a non-committal noise as a response and just stares at me. I can see from here that he’s really struggling, so I decide not to fight.
“Fine, get back to bed.”
After some disagreement, he finally caves, and once he’s brushed his teeth he goes back to bed. I wait until he is settled before asking if he needs anything. He says he doesn’t, but I head out to the l
iving area and place an order for some toast anyway.
When it arrives, Lucas takes one bite before rushing back to the bathroom. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Listening to him heaving into the toilet seriously put me off eating as well, so I have it cleared away and on a tray out in the corridor to be picked up by the time he reappears.
I think he manages about ten minutes before he is asleep again. I can only imagine how irritating being ill must be for a guy like Lucas. I don’t get the impression from him that he spends many days lazing around in bed—he’s too busy trying to take over the world, or whatever it is he spends his days rushing around doing.
I get a huge sense of déjà vu when his phone starts ringing again. I jump up from the sofa where I was sat quietly doing some uni work after he passed out. Again, I don’t look at the screen; I just swipe it and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Oh my, is it you?” another female voice says.
“Uh…I guess that depends on who you think it is.”
“Are you the girl that’s got my Luc tied up in knots?” Something happens inside me when the lady on the other end says those words. I can’t quite describe it. A bubble of excitement? Dread? Hope? I have no idea.
“I’m just his cleaner,” I say, and I feel just as much like a nobody as I did when I was talking to Catherine earlier. I enjoy my job most days, and I have total respect for people who do this day in and day out, but it’s not my calling in life. I want more than this, and I’ve worked damn hard to hopefully have that.
“Hmmm, what’s your name, my dear?”
“Lilly.”
“That’s pretty. Is my son there?” It’s not until she says it that I realise who’s on the other end. Mrs. Dalton. The woman is a bit of a legend with all the female staff around here. She must be in her sixties, but she is the most elegant woman I’ve ever seen. The way she holds herself is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Weirdly, it’s not pretentious though. She also has this soft and gentleness to her—much like my mum has, I guess. Mrs. Dalton is just a richer, more sophisticated version. I bet she hasn’t ground a coffee bean in her life.