Don't Ever Stop: A BDSM Billionaire Romance (8 page)

The more I drank, the more I was convincing myself that there was definitely a spark between Patrick and I. A romantic spark, I mean. He definitely wasn’t anything like Jacob. I wasn’t going down that road again. But he was a good guy. Nice. Funny. Down to earth. Exactly what I needed.

‘Let’s go somewhere else,’ I said dreamily to Patrick. I’d just got back from the bathroom, and seen that my tongue and lips were tinged with orange coloring from my drink. I was also beginning to feel a bit queasy from the high sugar content of the cocktails here, and fancied a change. Besides, happy hour was over, so it was time to move on.

‘Where shall we go?’ asked Patrick. ‘We’re in your neck of the woods. You choose.’

I hated making decisions like this. Besides, I still didn’t know the area too well. ‘Let’s walk in that direction,’ I said, pointing down a street where I could make out a couple of bars and restaurants. ‘That one looks like the best bet.’

‘Okay,’ said Patrick, getting up from the table and holding out his arm. ‘Would madam like to link arms with sir?’

‘Patrick,’ I giggled, thinking how silly he was, but linking arms with him happily. We left money on the table for our drinks and stepped outside into the still-sunny evening.

‘Y’know, Rose,’ Patrick said, as we walked drunkenly down the sidewalk. ‘I really enjoy spending time with you.’

‘I really enjoy spending time with you too, Patrick,’ I said, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.

‘Oh, you enjoy beating me up, do you?’ he asked, elbowing me back.

‘Patrick!’ I squealed. Pretty soon we were play-fighting on the street, outside a load of serious-looking offices, and right opposite a fancy Japanese restaurant. ‘Stop it, Patrick!’ I screamed, as Patrick tickled me.

A couple of businessmen turned around and watched us disapprovingly for a moment, and I wondered how obvious it was we’d been drinking. My lips were probably fluorescent orange. Maybe my teeth were orange too.

As I bent over, trying to stop Patrick from tickling my stomach, trying to fight him off me by bashing my hips and handbag against his pelvis, I suddenly stopped. I saw the silhouette of someone standing across the road from me that I recognised all too well.

It was Redmond Cooper.

He was standing outside the restaurant, as if he’d just been about to go in, accompanied by two men in dark business suits, and he was watching me.

I felt my cheeks go crimson.

‘Patrick,’ I hissed. ‘Stop it.’

Patrick sensed my tensed body, saw that I wasn’t laughing any more, and took a step backwards, no doubt noticing my boss himself.

Redmond Cooper’s expression looked like a mixture of things. I had seen that furious scowl the night of the awards. But there was something else in there. Disappointment, maybe. I’d let him down.

I should have been at home, doing the work he’d given me.

What an idiot.

Urgh, I felt so angry with myself. He’d given me this opportunity, out of the goodness of his heart, and I’d disappointed him. I was squandering it. I didn’t deserve to work for Global Media. He was surely going to fire me.

Mr. Cooper’s eyes moved from me, across to Patrick. He looked at Patrick with disdain, shaking his head slightly, and I felt like shouting across the road, telling him to leave Patrick out of this, that it wasn’t Patrick’s fault for leading me astray or anything.

But I didn’t shout. I didn’t do anything. I just stood, waiting. I could hear Patrick breathing heavily to my right, still cooling down from the tickling session we’d just engaged in. And I could see Redmond Cooper opposite. Immaculately dressed, standing tall and rigid, with prefect posture, looking down on us both. And then I could see myself. Shameful little Rose. Nothing more than a naughty girl. I braced myself now, as if awaiting a telling-off.

Mr. Cooper didn’t speak though. Instead, he looked at the two businessmen beside him, and pointed them towards the door of the restaurant. They began to walk in. Mr. Cooper turned to follow them, then stopped and looked back at me for a moment. He bowed his head, almost imperceptibly, but with a slow, graceful nod, to show that he was acknowledging me, and then he walked into the restaurant.

‘Oh fuck!’ Patrick said, breathing out and laughing. ‘That guy is so weird! Why didn’t he say hello? What was all that about?’

I shook my head, not wanting to answer.

Patrick put out his arm again, like before. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and get drunk.’

I looked at Patrick’s arm, then I looked back towards the restaurant. ‘I have to go home,’ I told him, already dreading Monday morning.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Weak At The Knees

I felt sick. I held on to the metal bar in the elevator as I rose up to the seventh floor. I was tired out. I’d spent all weekend working on my shorthand course, even managed to get a couple of hours ahead. My mom had started to worry about me, told me I shouldn’t work so hard, even if it was for a new position. My dad said it was nice to see me finally knuckling down to something. All I knew was that Redmond Cooper had looked annoyed with me on Friday. Very annoyed. And I felt like I’d let him down.

I practised my apology in my head over and over again as the elevator went up. By the time I reached the seventh floor, I had it all prepared.

I’m sorry, sir,
I was going to say.
Starting this new job is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m determined not to screw things up. Friday night was a mistake. Please give me another chance.

I knocked on the door.

At first I heard nothing. A big, echoing nothing, making me think that maybe Mr. Cooper wasn’t in today. Or he was in a meeting. Perhaps I’d have to go through this rigmarole all over again tomorrow–

But then I heard the deep voice within. ‘Enter,’ he said.

I opened the door to catch Redmond Cooper just sitting down at his desk, with slightly flushed cheeks, as if he’d been rushing around to get something tidied up or moved before I entered. I saw his eyes flick over to a dresser on his left as I walked in, then they flicked over to me.

Since Mr. Cooper wasn’t saying anything, I presumed it was okay to sit, and took a seat on the small black stool, my eyes on the carpet. Then I took a deep breath and prepared to give my speech. ‘Sir,’ I said, looking up at him pleadingly. ‘I’m sorry about Friday. About you seeing me drunk with a friend, when I was meant to be at home, doing my work–’

Mr. Cooper lifted a hand to silence me. ‘Let’s take a walk, Rose,’ he said. He stood up and motioned for me to do the same. ‘This way,’ he told me, pointing towards the sliding glass doors at the back of the room. The doors led out into the glasshouse; the square of botanical plants enclosing his office with their thick, lush foliage.

He pulled back one of the sliding doors, and I stepped inside. Immediately I was greeted with warm, moist air. I breathed in the sweet smell of cherry blossom, the fragrant aroma of delicate gardenias, and the fresh, slightly metallic smell of recently watered soil. Redmond Cooper followed me in, and closed the glass doors behind me.

‘This place is beautiful,’ I said. ‘You’re so lucky to be able to come in here every day, whenever you please.’

Though Mr. Cooper was walking ahead of me, leading me to wherever we were going, I could see, from the way his posture changed, that my words made him bristle. ‘Luck has nothing to do with it,’ he said. ‘I designed all this myself. I took the best ideas from buildings I’d seen across Asia, on my journalistic travels, and I gave myself the best working environment possible. I worked damned hard for it, too.’

I decided not to say anything at this point, realizing that I was likely to put my foot in it again if I spoke further.

We walked ahead in silence for a while, down a smart concrete path, leading us past beautiful plant after beautiful plant. Many were species I didn’t recognize. They must have been taken from all over the world.

Eventually, we stopped, under the thickest past of foliage, where the branches crossed over above us, as if holding hands and embracing one another. Mr. Cooper and I, however, stood a good couple of meters apart.

‘Rose,’ he said to me. ‘I am disappointed in you.’

I felt my heart sink. I could feel it, pushing its way down my chest, into my stomach. I felt so sick. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I said, felling like a naughty child.

‘I sent you an email when you started here. Told you to come and see me in a couple of days, to tell me how you were getting on.’

‘I’ve been meaning to,’ I lied. ‘I’ve just been so busy and–’

‘You should have made time.’

‘I’ve just been so stressed,’ I said, feeling relieved to finally be able to let it out. ‘Starting work here, and then having to get through all that homework you’ve been setting me. I’m not eating properly, I’m exhausted–’

‘Then I’m even more disappointed in you,’ Mr. Cooper interrupted. He walked towards the glass edge of the building, looking down over the buildings below. I was amazed at how quiet it was in here, despite being in the middle of the city. ‘Rose,’ he said, more gently now. ‘If you’re having problems, you’re meant to come to me. I told you I’m here to help. I can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is, now, can I?’ He turned to face me, and I could tell he was upset.

Was he upset that I hadn’t been to visit him sooner? He barely knew who I was. I’m amazed he had remembered my name, to be honest, in an office of so many employees. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I said limply.

‘You
must
come and see me, if you have something you need to discuss,’ he said, then less kindly, added: ‘As for gallivanting around with your boyfriend, making a fool of yourself on a Friday night, well… that’s your own choice.’ His cheeks were flushed again. Was he angry?

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ I said quietly. ‘Patrick is just a friend.’

Mr. Cooper seemed to be thinking about something for a while, as he bowed his head, and remained silent. Finally, he beckoned me over to the glass. ‘Come here, Rose,’ he said. ‘Look at this.’

I walked up to the glass and looked out at the city. Even some of the skyscrapers weren’t as tall as we were, and I could see their roofs. I looked further down and saw the tops of many more buildings, then I saw the roads, full of miniature cars, barely moving, and the sidewalks, crammed with teeny tiny people walking in all directions. I began to feel quite dizzy.

I hadn’t stood on top of a building and looked down like this since I went up the tower at the Pleasure Beach when I was seven years old, and I fainted, and Dad had to carry me down.

I felt the blood running out of my cheeks.
Please don’t faint.

‘You have a choice, Rose,’ Redmond said, standing beside me now. ‘You can either be down there, walking past all these buildings, your head down and your earphones in, blocking out every opportunity that comes your way… Or you can be up here, with me, looking upon it all, remembering why you made your decision.’

I nodded, swaying slightly, feeling seasick.

‘I’d like you to visit me once a week, Rose,’ Redmond said. ‘I want you to report to me, to tell me how you’re getting on.’

‘Sir,’ I said dizzily. I wanted to ask him why he was so interested in me, why it meant so much to him that I took this role in his company. But instead I felt my knees go weak, and then everything went black.

*

The ceiling was white. Pure, sleek white. Not a single mark or stain. It had been painted perfectly.

I closed my eyes again, weak.

Where was I?

I felt the warm softness of leather under my arms and legs. I let my hands explore the leather, grabbed onto the sides. Okay, there were sides. I was in a chair. A leather chair. Gradually, I opened my eyes again.

Redmond Cooper was standing over me, looking down at me. ‘Rose? Are you okay, Rose?’

‘I’m okay… I think. What happened?’

‘You fainted,’ he said. ‘I was worried. You need to get your blood sugar up. When did you last eat?’

I shook my head. ‘Last night,’ I replied. ‘I had some pasta…’

‘You’ve had nothing today?’ Mr. Cooper shook his head, and walked away from me. I heard him pacing, but still felt too weak to move my head. ‘Rose,’ I heard him say, somewhere to my right. ‘I’m going to make sure you eat properly. While you’re under my employment, I feel that it’s my responsibility.’ I heard him pace a little more. ‘I’m going to ensure you get proper meals, while you’re here,’ he said. ‘How much do you normally eat?’

I reeled at such a personal question, but still felt compelled to answer: ‘I don’t know… Not enough. I get so busy. My mom and dad eat before me, so I usually just snack when I get home from work…’

‘One meal a day?’ said Redmond, walking over to me, anger in his eyes. ‘That’s terrible. You need to eat more. You could do with putting on a little weight, anyway. Get some meat on your bones.’ He looked down at me, more tenderly now. ‘Let me look after you, Rose,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll make you a diet plan. I’ll email you a list with exactly what I want you to eat each day, and I want you to follow it. No exceptions. Do you think you can do that for me?’