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Blokebusters Page 25
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“You look deep in thought.” He gave her knee a squeeze.
“Sorry.” She turned back to him.
“Something worrying you?”
“No.” She returned to the window.
“We’ll get this done and head straight home. I’ve remembered a couple more things Alan said.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Fine.”
He smiled and concentrated on the road. He’d noticed all the Carrots seemed to drift off into their own world shortly before a job and supposed it was the equivalent of a sportsman mentally preparing for competition.
Georgia didn’t notice the shops, the people or the dogs whizzing by. All she could think about was Dan’s fingers on her shoulder, him easing them under her bra strap. She wracked her brain as to how she could excuse her previous two disappearances and how she could tempt him for a third time.
“Hey, Dolly Daydream – we’re here.” He turned the engine off and it coughed before becoming silent. The stereo died and his jacket rustled as he shifted in his seat towards her. “I’ve become pretty good at matching voices to people and I’d bet anything that’s her.” He pointed over to a tall brunette; she noticed and walked towards the car. Georgia got out.
“Hi, I’m Nicky Giordano – I hope you’re my Blokebusters people?” She had an aggressive American accent and a firm handshake.
“Yeah. You can sit in the car and hear everything we say.” Georgia gestured at her newly vacated seat.
“I look forward to it,” Nicky smiled. It wasn’t the usual attitude clients took. Normally they were anxious, fretful and ready to hear the worst. This woman behaved like she was about to be entertained. “He’s in the bar – I saw him go in. Dumb shit. He’s wearing a leather jacket and a pale grey cashmere sweater.” She paused for a moment, thinking and then grinned wickedly. “He’s had a professional wet shave – compliment him on it, stroke his jaw – he likes that.”
“OK,” Georgia said. Her heels click-clacked across the road to the bar.
*
Dan sat at the bar drumming his fingers impatiently. Where was she? He hoped Nicky had remembered to tell her about touching him. He grinned into his beer as soon as he spotted Georgia enter the bar. She looked good as a blonde but he preferred her brunette. She took a spot at the bar about a metre away from him; he decided to make it easy for her.
“Hey, are you following me?” he asked, cutting into a too-small place and pushing another man out of the way to stand next to her.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Georgia purred. He was more gorgeous than ever, curse him. He smiled and his face lit up.
“Can I get you a drink – for old time’s sake?”
“You’re actually going to buy me a drink? Good Lord. Are you ill?”
In the car, Matt frowned. They’d greeted each other like old friends. What was going on? A tap on his window made him jump. He wound down the window to speak to the traffic warden.
“You can’t park here sir. Please move your vehicle on or I’ll have to give you a ticket.”
“No – you don’t understand, I’m waiting for someone.”
“I don’t care. You can’t wait here – see that sign up there?” He pointed to a lamppost with a small metal plaque on it. “No parking except for permit holders. Move on please.”
Matt started the engine and looked for somewhere nearby to park. He found a space around the corner, not too far away but further than he’d like.
“Bloody traffic wardens.”
“Yeah,” Nicky snorted. “Still, at least we’re close enough to hear what’s going on.”
“Hmm.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Back at the bar, Dan had bought the drinks and steered Georgia to a table.
“I like the hair – you make a great blonde.” He twirled a strand around his fingers. “Have you dyed it or is it a wig?”
“It’s a wig. Friend of mine’s throwing a ‘blonde’ party.” It was lame but the best she could come up with in the circumstances.
“Take it off.” His eyes clamped on hers; they were so like Matt’s but without the safety net. She trusted Matt. She didn’t Dan. It was a delicious sensation, thrilling in its novelty.
“I can’t. My hair will be a right mess underneath.”
“Take it off. Go and do it in the toilets. Your hair will look great – like you’ve just had really rough sex.”
Georgia gulped. He noticed and smiled although he tried to suppress it.
“Does this blonde party mean you have to dress sexily too?” He reached over and pushed her coat from her shoulders, admiring her figure as he did so.
“You decide,” Georgia said, starting to feel more in control.
“You have great breasts.”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure it was her slinkiest response ever but he’d flustered her.
“May I touch them?”
She hesitated. If Matt weren’t listening in it would be much harder to determine an answer to the question.
“No. I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
“I think you like teasing me, Lisa. I don’t know why you’re trying to hold back your obvious passion. You strike me as a woman who likes passion.” He shrugged his jacket off and let it drape over the back of his chair. Her eyes fell to his chest and shoulders. The sweater was a close fit and showcased his physique superbly. He allowed her to look unchallenged before saying, “Anything you want to touch – the answer’s yes.”
She blushed and looked away.
“Who’s meant to be seducing who?” Nicky asked Matt. Matt had wondered the same thing. He didn’t like the way Nicky goaded him. He didn’t like the way Georgia had withheld information from him either. He especially didn’t like the way she sounded as if she was having a great time.
“Do you think I’m handsome, Lisa?” Dan asked without a hint of embarrassment.
“Of course I do – why else would I be sitting here?”
Dan smiled and his eyes laughed at her.
“Quite.” He was annoyed she hadn’t mentioned his shave. Normally Georgia was better at remembering the details he’d put on the form. “Do you like my hair? I had it cut this afternoon – it’s almost like I knew I’d be meeting you again.”
“It looks great.” It did too. Exactly how she’d like Matt’s to look, short but funky. Whenever she suggested he have a proper haircut he accused her of wanting to turn him ‘funny’.
“I had an old-fashioned wet shave too.” He inwardly cringed for how weak he’d become, pleading for a woman to touch him. He could imagine a lot of people who’d have a good laugh about that.
“It looks very smooth,” Georgia commented, without a hint of wanting to touch him.
“Feel.” He held his face across the table; his last throw of the dice.
It worked. She stroked his face with both hands. Her fingers were lovelier than he imagined.
“Very nice,” she said, quickly letting her hands drop. His skin was clean and smooth. Matt was clean and smooth too but Dan was enhanced by products and felt moist and glowing.
“I feel like she should be paying me!” Nicky exclaimed, the words sounding more aggressive because of her Brooklyn accent.
Matt didn’t reply. He felt empty. Something important was happening and he wasn’t even sure what it was. But he sensed it: a great divergence in the force. What would Han Solo do? He’d go in there and rescue the girl. Matt fiddled with his car keys, unaware of Nicky’s cruel smirk.
Georgia watched Dan at the bar. He looked good casual. She wondered why he hadn’t asked her about running out on him a second time but figured that if he was a rat regarding women, he probably expected some of it back. He returned with a tray, bearing a bottle of red wine, two glasses and a bowl of nachos.
“You’ve lost weight since I last saw you – thought you could do with something to eat.”
Matt squirmed in his seat. How dare the Rabbit be so interested in her? That was his job; he was he
r husband.
“They’ve met before?” Nicky asked, realising it was a good time to stir things up.
“Apparently so.”
“Through Blokebusters or do they have history?” Nicky grinned and watched a couple walk arm-in-arm past her window. She hoped Dan would hurry up. He’d promised to take her to The Savoy for dinner and she was getting hungry.
Matt glared at her but didn’t answer.
“These are great – you can’t beat hot cheese, can you?” Dan asked, licking some chilli sauce from his lip.
“Very tasty,” Georgia said. And he was. He had the sort of square jaw she hadn’t seen outside of a film. He chewed slowly when he ate, took his time. She liked that in a man.
“So, the party – what time do you have to get there?”
“What?”
“Your blonde party?”
“Oh… ehm, turn up whenever really.” She blushed.
“D’you know what Lisa? I reckon we could talk much easier if we switched this off.” He reached over, grabbed her bag, opened it and switched her microphone off before she’d even registered what he was doing.
Matt froze in the car. This scenario had never arisen before.
“Get out of the car. She might be in danger,” he snapped.
Nicky was surprised at the forcefulness in his tone and obeyed. He locked the car and sprinted down the street, keys and money chinking about in his pockets, desperate to reach the bar.
“What the hell have you just done?” Georgia said.
Dan gave her the bag back.
“I need to talk to you without an audience.” He tried to touch her face but she pushed his hand away. Under the table he rested a hand on her knee to sooth her. “This was supposed to be purely business. I was only supposed to hire you once. What have you done to me? I’m crazy about you.” She couldn’t take it in. He was a journalist. But his face was so intense, so earnest that she had to listen.
“Please remove your hand from my thigh.”
“Why?”
“You’ve switched off my mike. My husband will be here any minute. He’s probably panicking like mad.”
Dan smirked but didn’t release her thigh.
“And that’s what bothers you? You don’t want me to remove it because you want me to. You want me to remove it so your husband doesn’t see? Quite a telling comment. I draw a lot of encouragement from that.” His fingers inched up her thigh but still she didn’t push him away. Her heart beat so fast that she wondered if she was hyperventilating. She had to make him stop but seemed incapable. She picked up her glass of wine and tossed the liquid into his face. He released her leg and stared at her for a while, as if deciding how to react.
“That’s a cashmere sweater ruined.” He tweaked the wool to see how badly stained it was. “You are such a bitch,” he sighed. “God I love it.” He glanced idly at the entrance to the bar. “I’m guessing from his agitated look that’s your husband. Wow. He is not what I was expecting – you don’t strike me as t-shirt and jeans girl. Frankly, I’m a little disappointed you settled for him.” His amused expression suggested he’d been in far worse scrapes than this.
“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you arrogantly claim to,” she snapped, her words clipped and staccato. She hated him for toying with her, for upsetting Matt, for everything. Mostly she hated herself for this weird situation she’d helped create.
“The fun is always in the finding out,” he grinned. “Should I leave or will it make him feel better if we have a show-down? Should I let him hit me?” It was all a game to him. He got up and put his jacket on. “It’s OK buddy – I’m going,” he said to Matt, completely disarming him.
Matt tried to decide what to do, where his priority lay. Much as he wanted to hit the Rabbit, Georgia was more important.
“Did he hurt you?” He crouched next to her.
“No. Just rattled me.”
“Is he a journalist?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. He just grabbed my bag and switched the mike off without warning.”
Outside, Dan spotted Nicky and strolled over to her.
“You had fun,” she said. “Did you make your proposal?”
“No. The husband arrived too soon. Jeez – I wasn’t expecting her to be married to a guy like him. It makes no sense at all.”
“He’s very tense – he riles easily.”
“Did you get some good shots in?”
“A couple.” She hooked her arm in his. “You promised me The Savoy, buster.”
“Yeah. I did. Come on. I need to stop off at the hotel and change my sweater.” When they reached a streetlight he peeled his jacket back to show her the stain.
“She did that?”
“Yeah.”
“I like her. She’s got spirit,” Nicky said. “She’s perfect for you.”
They headed off together.
*
Matt and Georgia walked back to the car in silence. She’d gone into the toilets and taken her wig off. Dan was right; her hair did look good. Matt unlocked the car and glanced at Georgia across the roof before getting in. They got in and fastened their seatbelts without speaking.
“Georgia – I’m trying to be calm but it’s hard when you’re not telling me anything. I’m trying to be reasonable but… ”
“I didn’t know he was dodgy,” she said quietly.
“I realise that. But you did know that he wasn’t quite right – you didn’t tell me you’d met him before. Why?”
“I thought you might not let me do the job.”
“But you’ve had a repeat client before – remember? You came home and told me about him. He upset you ‘cos he was such a rat.” He read her expression. “It was him? That’s the third time you’ve seen him?”
She nodded. He steered the car from the kerb and headed for home on autopilot, his mind on everything but driving.
“Do you fancy him or something?” he asked eventually, when the silence became unbearable.
“Matt!”
“I’m serious – do you fancy him? You sounded like you were having a great time with him. I know when you’re acting with Rabbits; you seemed pretty genuine with him.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Georgia – don’t treat me like a fool. Talk to me. I deserve that much. I’ve just had to sit and listen to you almost get it on with another bloke – I think the least I deserve is some answers.” His tone had never been so harsh with her before.
“Please. I don’t want to argue.”
“Argue? Who’s arguing? We’re having a heated discussion. I thought you liked a bit of passion?”
She watched a group of girls on the pavement. One vomited and her friends held her hair back to avoid nastiness.
“OK. I find him attractive; he’s a hell of a lot easier to flirt with than most of the other blokes I’ve come across. I enjoy his company too – there’s something interesting about him. A slightly dangerous edge to him – I don’t know what it is. But I don’t want him. I want you. I don’t know why he keeps cropping up, Fiona’s had him twice too. It didn’t enter my mind he could be a journalist but why else would he keep using us?”
“Because he fancies you?” Matt said. “What did Fiona make of him?”
“She said he was a bit disinterested – didn’t ask many questions. That’s what made me think he was just a love rat and all these women were genuine.” She knew she was gabbling, desperate to put Matt’s mind at rest.
“Has he ever been disinterested with you?” He wouldn’t take his eyes off the road even though they were at a red light.
“He’s always been like he was tonight.”
“He could be some high-flying millionaire who’s besotted with you. He might have been less charming to Fiona ‘cos he was hoping you’d turn up.”
Georgia fidgeted; she hadn’t dared let herself believe it before Matt said it.
“I haven’t done anything wrong. I resent being given the Spanish Inqu
isition.” She knew that normally Matt would launch into re-enacting the Monty Python sketch about the Spanish Inquisition. He ignored the reference.
“But you’ve admitted you find him attractive!”
“Oh grow up Matt,” she snapped. “Like you get married and stop noticing any other attractive people roaming the planet. Really! And don’t even think about claiming you never admire other good-looking women because then I’ll know you’re lying.”
He didn’t reply. He genuinely didn’t admire other women. Georgia was the only one for him. Why look at thistles when you had a rose at home? From her breathing he could tell she was fuming, therefore when she broke the silence and spoke tenderly, he was surprised.
“Matt. I love you. I wouldn’t cheat on you. So I saw another man and thought he was handsome. So what? Women don’t stop noticing attractive men just ‘cos they’re married. What they stop doing is acting on it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.”
“If you weren’t listening in tonight, if you’d never known what I got up to, I wouldn’t have done anything other than I did.” She hoped it sounded more convincing than it felt.
“When he said for you to feel – what did you touch?”
She frowned trying to recall and then laughed.
“Oh, his face. He’d had a wet shave.”
They pulled out onto a poorly-lit section of road. It was too dark to see his expression but she looked at him anyway.
“Matt – you do believe me?”
He paused as if thinking it over.
“Yes. I believe you.”
“Then why do you sound so sad?” She stroked his cheek.
“I just don’t like the idea that if he’s a journalist he’ll be writing up about how much you fancied him, boasting about his pulling power.” He parked on their driveway. “We don’t even know for whom he writes, if he is a journalist – I’m not convinced.” He switched the headlights off and cut the engine.
Georgia got out of the car and watched her breath shoot out in front of her in a silver cloud. She wished he’d say what he really meant but he didn’t. Whether it was because he couldn’t express it or didn’t want to, she didn’t know. Talking about feelings had never been easy for him, his parents drumming it into him that it was a sign of weakness.