Page 62 of Kissing Games
He led the way to the great hall, the young man beside him turning his head at every new sight.
‘Do you know her?’ the courier asked. ‘Valentina Valverde?’
He couldn’t help a grin spreading across his face. ‘Yeah, a bit.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Amazing.’
In the great hall Charlie spotted Valentina chatting to Zoe. He stood back, his hand on the courier’s arm, waiting for her conversation to finish before interrupting, happiness warming him from the inside out. She walked over to them, her face composed but her eyes smiling.
He nodded at the man beside him. ‘Valentina, this young man has a parcel for you.’
The courier thrust a bag at her, swallowing nervously. ‘What is it?’ he blurted.
She smiled at him but looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s the script for my next film.’
‘Wow. Er. Wow.’ It looked like he was going to pass out with excitement.
Her smile broadened but didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Would you like a picture?’
Charlie escortedthe courier back to the front of the castle, listening to his non-stop chatter about how this was the greatest day of his life, then returned to Valentina. She had the package wedged inside the big bag she carried everywhere with her.
She turned to him. ‘I’m going to get Zoe some lunch. She’s still not feeling great after last night. Then I’ve got an appointment for a couple of hours. When I’m done will you be free?’
He nodded. His to-do list had been culled to only one task – pleasuring her.
‘Should I come and find you around three? Will you be in your room?’
He nodded again.
‘Charlie, have you lost the power of speech?’
His cheeks heated as he nodded again.
She grinned and turned on her heel, returning to Zoe, the beads on the bottom of her dress swishing with every step.
He limped away stiffly. Maybe he needed to offload some pent-up sexual energy to stop himself putting in a premature performance later. The run and the gym hadn’t done anything to take the edge off.
His phone rang and he answered without looking, expecting Rory. ‘Mate, what’s up?’
‘It’s me,’ his sister replied. ‘How’s Angola?’ Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Guilt flooded through him, pushing out every bit of happiness. He opened the door to the library. It was empty and quiet. A grand piano stood in the corner, a dust cover over it. He turned his back to it and sat in an old leather wingback chair with a sigh. ‘Hey, Tabbie.’
Silence. He could hear his sister taking a breath in as if to speak, then changing her mind. Years of shame bore down on him. Decades of disappointing both her and their parents. He didn’t know what to say. Sorry didn’t even begin to cover it.
‘I’m ringing about a couple of things,’ she began, her voice brittle. ‘It’s Mum and Dad’s ruby wedding anniversary in a couple of weeks. They’re having a garden party.’
Charlie’s stomach twisted. He’d rather have his teeth pulled out without anaesthetic than attend. All those happy couples, people who’d known him from childhood, who’d watched his every fuckup. All asking if he had a ‘special someone’ in his life.
The last time he’d seen his parents’ friends, one of them was even tipsy enough to ask if there was a special ‘gentleman friend’ in his life. If he went, he would stand there, the odd one out, a rictus grin stuck to his face, as parts of his soul broke off. Until all that was left of him was dust.
‘Barbara told me the shoot will be over by then and you won’t be needed. I’ve also spoken to Mack and he says you don’t have any work lined up.’
He let out a huff. His sister, as ever, had all his exits covered.
‘You need to be there, Charlie.’
