Page 41 of The Desire

Pulling into the driveway, I have been away longer than I was expecting after the meeting with the Kentwalls didn’t quite go to plan. Felisha wasn’t anything like I expected, but her old man sure was. Full of chest puffing and raised voice trying to intimidate me, which of course didn’t work one bit.

Whereas Felisha was polite, strong willed, and not prepared to let anyone walk over the top of her. Much to her father’s disgust, she is in agreeance with us that she doesn’t want to pay this person. She wants them strung up by their toenails and made to pay for invading her privacy.

Her team is reviewing all the security footage from the past few weeks, trying to work out how the camera was planted without them knowing. Of course, if we can find who it was and have proof, then she wants the police involved. But none of us want to report anything yet and for there to be any leak to the media that the video exists. That just gives the woman who has it more power, and the price will increase dramatically.

Before I walked into the office with them, I was certain that Felisha had something to do with this and it was some scheme to tarnish our branding. But within five minutes of being in the room with her, I know she didn’t do it. Her body language was on the defense, and the way she stood up to her father was impressive. He is known in the industry for being an old-fashioned hardhead. Don’t get me wrong, Nic is stubborn as hell, and that’s what makes him so successful, but Ewan Kentwall is so tunnel-visioned with his thought process, it works against him when he won’t listen to other opinions. He is in his late sixties, having Felisha later in life from his third marriage, so that the two of them are not on the same page.

Their head of security, Sandon Bock, I can’t quite get a read on yet. I thought we would be coming at this from the same angle, but I have a feeling what he wants to do, as opposed to what he is being ordered to do by old man Kentwall, are two different things. But I guess money talks. In the end, I finally got them to agree with Felisha and me, allowing us to investigate this before we all react.

Opening the front door just after four pm, I hear Blaise’s little laugh coming from the living room, which brings an instant smile to my face. I could get used to having someone to come home to each day.

Slipping off my shoes at the door is something I love to do as soon as I get home, and I walk toward the voices.

“Fucccckkkkkk!” I scream as the piercing pain radiates up through the ball of my foot. Hopping a few steps, I turn to see what I trod on, and straight away I take back my thought of coming home to people in my house being great. Apparently, I have just been initiated into being a parent by standing on a piece of Lego in socked feet. Holy shit, that fucking hurts.

Then through her laughing, I hear El call out to me. “Watch the language, one pound in the swear jar.” And then she continues to laugh at me. I’ll give her a damn swear jar. That is going to be the least of the problems if I keep coming home to Lego on the floor in the doorway. It might be a simple but effective security measure, but I think I’ll take my very expensive, high-tech computer security system over the pain of the Lego barrier.

I compose myself even though my foot is still throbbing from the little sucker that is smaller than my big toe.

The moment I step into the lounge, Blaise is up off the floor where he was playing with El and runs for me. He leaps into my arms and hugs me tightly. He is making it hard to still be annoyed at my pain.

“Bonjour, Blaise,” I say as I squeeze him tightly and shake him from side to side, bringing out a giggle in him.

“Hello, Papa.” He looks at me after carefully getting out his first word of English he has ever spoken to me. The excitement on his face waiting for my reaction makes me smile with so much joy for him.

“Well, hello, Blaise, my clever boy.” I repeat his words back to him so he knows I understood him. His face lights up and he is already squirming that he wants to get down.

Looking at El, I can see that she is beaming that he has learned something today.

“Wait, there’s more,” she blurts out as Blaise runs back across the room, grabbing a car and holding it up.

“Car, Papa.” He drops it back to the floor, and then he has his favorite truck. “Truck, Papa.” Then he gives it to El before he reaches for another toy. “Ball.” He continues to point to a few more things, proudly rattling off the correct English for it in his proudest four-year-old voice he can muster. When he gets to the end of the words he has learned, he starts clapping for himself, which has both El and me joining in and clapping his big achievement.

“I’m so proud of you, Blaise.” I take both his hands and hold them above his head and slap my hands on to them, cheering him and teaching him how to show excitement. El jumps up off the floor and gives him the double high five too, which has him cheering again and jumping up and down on the spot.

All my dramas of the day seem to disappear from my thoughts at the innocence of the little boy in front of me who mastered a dozen English words today, with of course a very broad French accent.

His attention is quickly diverted to the television that is on, and the Australian kids show Bluey comes on. I had never heard of it before, but El insisted it’s a great show and all her kids at school love it. The theme song has him dancing in front of the television, and the excitement of Dad being home is now gone.

“Can I get you a drink or anything to eat?” Elouise is at my side, still beaming at the happiness that has rubbed off from Blaise.

“I should be getting you a glass of champagne to celebrate your first day of being an amazing teacher.” Placing my hand on her lower back, I direct her toward the kitchen.

“What, I wasn’t amazing all the other days I have been a teacher before I landed on your doorstep?” she digs at me as I step past her and head toward the wine fridge.

“But you weren’t my teacher, so I’m just celebrating you being mine.” I’m popping the cork on the bottle when the words start repeating in my head.

Looking up, her face tells me that I need to fix this. I start trying to clarify what I meant.

“You know, mine as in my employee, the person who is working for me and looking after Blaise, the nanny, no, I mean my friend… Oh fuck it, you know what I meant.” Handing her the glass, we stand there looking into each other’s eyes until the laughter starts falling from El’s lips, and I breathe a sigh of relief, laughing with her. Clinking our glasses together, we toast the beginning of her journey with Blaise and my relief at being able to communicate freely with my son.

A few sips later and El as usual is the one who is good at breaking the silence.

“How did your meetings go today? Do you think you will be able to stop the world from having to vomit up their meal seeing Flynn naked and having sex?” She leans her backside against the counter near the window and the afternoon sunlight surrounds her silhouette, softening her features and reminding me no matter how hard I try I can’t deny her beauty and how much I am attracted to her.

“Strange is the best way I can describe it. But one thing is for sure, there is something not right about this whole thing, and I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is. And that makes me twitchy, and I hate the feeling of…” My mind wanders back to Felisha and the way she reacted today.

“Feeling of what?” El asks.

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