Page 59 of Crush

I lowered my body into the leather chair opposite where Jonathan was sprawled. His hair was untidy and he had removed his tie and jacket. The blanket Amber and Mia had thrown over him earlier was on the floor.

I watched as Jonny leaned forward to the small table between the two chairs and lifted the crystal decanter. It hadn’t been there earlier. He poured a shot of scotch into an empty glass and handed it to me. I could have done with a glass of water rather than spirits. The need to smoke continued to thrum through me.

“What shall we toast? The big seven-o, perhaps?” I suggested as I tipped the tumbler towards my host in a silent salute.

“None of that nonsense. I’ve had enough toasts to last a lifetime,” he chuckled. Jonny was smiling but there was a haunted expression on his face. He was worried.

“OK. What shall we drink to?”

After a long thick silence, he replied. “How about Amber?”

Panic flared in my chest. “Excuse me?” Shit did he know? I felt a storm brewing inside me.

“Oh—OK?” I said with a slight stutter.

His watery eyes roamed over me, “For her success in arranging my birthday party,” he explained with a quizzical look.

I held back my sigh of relief, the air tightening inside my body. “Oh—of course. She did well—It’s been a fantastic party.”

After another quick swig, I said, “To Amber,” calling it, and we both tipped our glasses back, savouring another shot of the fine spirit. Fuck me it was good, and I welcomed the burning sensation at the back of my throat. All thoughts of cigarettes and water were forgotten.

I felt a punch in my gut as I honoured his child with our toast, considering where I’d spent the last hour. I so hoped he couldn’t smell sex on me or her perfume.

“Whilst we're on the subject, how’s she doing? Is she following your tutelage? Amber can be quite stubborn.” That had to be the understatement of the century.

I almost swallowed my tongue. I so did not want to be discussing his daughter just then. Shrugging, I replied, “She’s doing OK. The recent essay I asked her to write was pretty good.”

“Great. I’m so grateful that you’ve taken her under your wing, Maxim,” Jonny said, refilling his glass and I almost choked on my scotch. I’d certainlytakenher, although wings hadnothingto do with it. My skin started to itch as I wondered where he was going. Before I could hatch a reply, he surprised me with his next words.

Turning in his seat, Jonny faced me, placing his drink down after a quick gulp. I wondered how much he’d had. He certainly didn’t look pissed. But then I knew he could hold his liquor. I’d seen him in action at a handful of charitable events.

“It’s very important to me that you keep her close over the next few weeks. Throw everything you can at her, keep her busy. Do you understand?”

My brow creased as I turned and mirrored his actions, placing my glass down before resting my hands on my knees.

I swiftly glanced towards the open doorway, worried at being overheard. Jonny watched the motion with a keen eye before nodding his head. The silent message was clear. He then pushed to his feet and went to close the doors, trapping us in together.

I sure hoped he didn’t have his gun cabinet in there.

Shifting in my seat, I started to feel uncomfortable and regretted leaving Amber. I was now a fraud. This man had trusted me, and I had betrayed him by screwing his daughter. I felt a metallic taste in the back of my mouth as he re-negotiated the position of his chair, moving it closer to mine.

“You look troubled Jonny,” I said, casting a look of concern. We had only known each other a few months but I liked and respected the man.

“I am, son.”

There was pain in his eyes, he covered it well but I could see it lurking in the depths. “I’m guessing it’s something to do with Amber?”

“Yes. Very much so,” he said sadly. His pain didn’t sit well with me.

“Is it about her losing her mother,” I said, surprised by my courage to bring up the death of his wife. Jonny had mentioned her in the past, though, so I knew he liked to speak about her occasionally. Keep the memory alive.

Jonny’s shoulders slumped as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the open fireplace.

“Yes, partly. Her death hit Amber hard, but it was the aftermath of that loss that still worries me,” Jonny stated, dashing a hand across his face. It was a weathered hand but still very capable.

“You mean the grieving process?” I put in, blown away by my natural response to give a shit for a change. I wasn’t as much of a dick as I had thought. I was genuinely interested in what he had to say.

“Let me guess, Amber went off the rails as a teenager?” I guessed. Having seen a couple of friends who lost a parent as a teen go nuts; drinking, partying the lot. All to numb the pain. I’d always suspected Amber had a past, the way she put herself across was proof of that. Her refusal to obey simple instructions was another shield to hide how vulnerable and alone she felt.

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