Lexington Black (3 page)

I'll have to be careful
, Rob thought.
This man could be trouble
. Although he had no idea why.

That evening when he arrived at the flat, the
document he had been waiting for was there. Looking at the official
words drawing a thick dark line through his marriage, all he could
summon up was a vague sense of failure. When they married, he
thought it was his chance to show the world he was capable of
maintaining a relationship. Now he doubted he ever could.

It hadn't been like that in the beginning. He
had always known she was ambitious but that was what he had loved
about her. Full of life, willing to take risks. He couldn't believe
she had taken the risk of saying yes when he had asked her to marry
him.

A few years back their life had been enviably
carefree, no financial woes, holidays in Mauritius, ski-ing at Val
d'Isere, love-making in ...

Actually, there hadn't been a lot of that,
but they knew that everyone else assumed they swung from the
chandeliers every night, and that was almost good enough. Rob knew
that his wife would be able to say, hand on heart, that he wasn't
the greatest of lovers.

He sighed as he picked up the phone. Geri
answered after four rings.

'Decree absolute has just arrived,' he
said.

'You want to get drunk?'

'Yeah, something like that.'

'Come on over.'

******

The next morning he woke on Geri's sofa, with
his head feeling as if an anvil had dropped onto it.

'Hey.' He felt someone sit on the sofa next
to him. 'You're drooling, bro. It's not a good look.'

He groped for the piece of kitchen paper
shoved in his face, and wiped his mouth, then took the glass of
water floating in his peripheral vision. He sat up properly,
blinking, and looked around for his glasses. The tortoiseshell
frames were on the coffee table. He put them on and blinked again
to try and focus. His vision was bleary as he looked up at his
sister.

'Aspirin,' Geri said, holding three white
round tablets in her palm. 'I need to get to work but you can stay
here as long as you like.'

'What time is it?' Rob lugged down the
tablets with the remains of the water.

'Nearly eight.'

Rob immediately swung his long legs off the
sofa. He needed a shower, a shave and a fresh shirt if he was going
to look anything like respectable for the client coming to
test-drive the Audi that afternoon. He also needed to get to work
on time, and he wasn't going to achieve both.

In the end, he showered in Geri and Simon's
ancient, damp-smelling bathroom and shaved the worst of his stubble
with a nearly-new Bic razor, trying to ignore the black hairs from
Geri's legs poking out between the blades. Afterwards, he looked
worse than he had before. Blood-shot eyes, gaunt expression, he was
some catch and no mistake.

'Gorgeous,' Geri said loyally. 'But you're
too skinny. You need to put on some beef.'

Stumbling downstairs again, he was given his
shirt, smelling of the tumble-dryer and freshly ironed.

'Thanks,' he muttered, avoiding Geri's
critical gaze. Since he stopped working in London, he had slipped
into what Geri kindly described as "Oxbridge Chic," namely old
chinos and a variety of eccentric tweed jackets over checked
shirts. Sandy had been less impressed with his new look and told
him he dressed like an old man.

There was no time for breakfast. A beep
sounded outside the front of the house.

'That's your taxi. You drive this morning and
you'll lose your licence,' Geri said firmly.

Rob gave her a quick kiss on her cheek.
'Thanks, sis. I owe you both a lot.'

Geri tossed her long black hair. 'Yeah,
remember that next Christmas.'

Rain soaked the window and ran down the glass
in wriggling rivulets as he was driven to work. He pressed his
aching head against the cool glass, grateful that the cab driver
wasn't one of the chatty types. Only two days until the weekend.
Not that it was anything to put out the flags for. On Sunday a
family lunch had been organised to discuss arrangements for his
younger sister's wedding, to be held later that year. Everyone had
their part to play, and he suspected she would be angling for a
cheap deal on Paul's Silver Shadow, which only came out for private
family occasions. Rob would not have dreamt of offering it but no
doubt their mother had suggested it as a way that Rob could
contribute. Whatever, the thought of sitting with his poisonous
mother, spoilt Sara and her down-trodden groom-to-be, as well as
Christopher, his pompous arse of an older brother, was almost too
much to contemplate. No doubt they would give him a hard time about
breaking up with Sandy. His mother would tell him he was a
disgrace, as usual, and it would all be punctuated by Sara's snippy
little remarks and demands.

Frankly, he would rather eat his own hair
than spend time with his delightful relatives, but at least Geri
would be there, and Silvy, Christopher's beatific wife. And it was
something to do, even if it meant consolidating his position as the
dead-beat of the family.

The taxi stopping with a jerk woke him up and
forced him back into reality. Before going into work he raced into
the supermarket and bought some deodorant, more aspirin and a
bottle of mineral water.

Paul looked up from his computer as Rob
walked in to the showroom and apologised for his tardiness. He did
not look surprised at Rob's disheveled appearance.

'What happened to your car?'

'I - uh, decided to walk,' Rob mumbled. He
headed straight for the coffee machine and poured himself a mugful,
aware that Paul was watching him.

'In the pissing rain? Seriously?'

Rob didn't reply. Three sugars went into his
coffee. It was definitely a three sugars morning.

'You okay?'

'I will be.' Rob gave him a tight smile and
escaped into the cloakroom.

In the mirror he looked at himself with
disgust. The stress of the divorce and his changed circumstances,
the way his and Sandy's former friends had all deserted him, the
smelly flat he lived in; it had all taken a toll on his health and
wellbeing. When he looked in the mirror now, he saw his father's
face staring back at him. His eyes were dark and deep-set, and he
had well-defined cheekbones, a sharp jaw and collar-length dark
brown hair. He looked like a crumpled geography teacher.

He splashed cold water on his face and gave
himself another mental slap. It wasn't as if he actually cared
about how he looked. As long as he was tidy and didn't let Paul
down, that was all that mattered. His other life had gone and there
was no use in pining for it.

Paul was the closest thing to a friend now.
He knew all about Rob's marital situation but Rob was determined it
was not going to play havoc with his job. After all, it was the
only thing he had left.

Rob's desk was at the back of the showroom,
behind those of the two salesmen. At that time, the showroom was
pretty crowded with, amongst other vehicles, two Aston Martins, a
silver Lamborghini and a red Ferrari which had taken the place
vacated by the R8.

Rob's desk was typically tidy. All his papers
were filed at the end of each day and locked away, leaving only a
flat-screen computer and a receptacle for stationery. That morning,
he stared the computer screen as if it had started talking Chinese
at him.

'Are you sure you're alright, lad?' Paul
asked, for the third time.

Rob looked up at him at last, knowing he owed
him the truth. Paul might have been his boss, but he had also
become something of a surrogate father, who knew all about Rob's
difficult family life, his religious mother and the strained
relations with his siblings.

'The divorce was finalised yesterday. I went
on a bit of a bender to celebrate,' Rob admitted ruefully.

'Well, perhaps it's for the best. It's time
you moved on, Rob. Start living again.' He patted Rob's
shoulder.

Paul wasn't one to waste much time on
ruminating over difficult issues, so this was a major contribution
from him and Rob was grateful for it.

'Yeah, I know. Thanks, Paul.'

Pep talk over, Paul went back to his
disemboweled Aston Martin. After a while there was shouting and
swearing. Rob relaxed. It was another normal day.

All morning he caught up on paperwork and
made some phone calls. By quarter to three he was yawning for
England, his body complaining at the lack of sleep the night
before.

'What's this I hear about you taking someone
out in the Audi?' A voice asked, halting him in mid-yawn. 'Paul's
just told me. Apparently he insisted on you taking him out.'

Rob looked up. Greg Soames was standing in
front of him, looking annoyed.

'If he buys the car, it's your commission,'
Rob said easily. He didn't want to fall out with Greg as their
desks were only ten feet apart. 'I told him you would be taking him
out and he insisted on me. I don't know why. The customer is always
right. Right?'

After a short pause, Greg nodded and walked
away, somewhat appeased. They both looked up as the door opened and
the client walked in. Rob checked on his notepad. Lexington Black,
that was it. Strange name. Strange man.

Rob greeted him and reached into his desk for
the Audi key. Lexington Black was giving the red Ferrari a good
inspection, and Rob had a chance to have a good look at him. He was
tall and well-built, with black hair cut in a business-like short
back and sides. In profile, he had a large, long nose, high
cheekbones and a firm jaw.

'Right,' Rob said as he joined him. 'The
car's outside.'

'Who does this belong to?' Black motioned to
the grandfather clock, standing behind Rob's desk. It had been
there since Sandy had thrown it out, and was waiting to be restored
when he could afford it. He had not wanted Geri to have it as it
would no doubt have been covered with coathanger scratches by the
time he was ready to retrieve it again. She had no appreciation of
antiques.

'Me, actually. I don't have anywhere to put
it at home. It was my father's,' he added.

'I don't suppose you're interested in selling
it?'

'No,' Rob said, then realised it came out too
abruptly. 'I'm sorry. It's a family heirloom.'

'Which is why it's here, of course,' Black
said archly.

'It's a long story.'

'I like long stories.'

Rob pressed the key pad and the Audi chirped
in response. 'I'll drive us out to the service station and you can
take it from there?'

'That's fine.'

A Matt Munroe CD was playing softly in the
background. He kept it on as Munroe's honeyed voice created just
the right kind of mood for cruising elegantly down the motorway. He
eased the Audi out onto the road and headed for the large service
station near the M40 turn-off.

'Depending on the time you have, we can take
it up the M40 towards Oxford or down towards Northolt. The Northolt
run is much quicker.'

'Oh, I have plenty of time,' Black said,
making himself comfortable in the white leather passenger seat.

'Oxford it is, then.'

Conversation was minimal as they drove. Rob
tried a few standard lines that Greg had given him. "Have you
driven Audis before?" "What car are you driving at the moment?"
Black said nothing and looked around the car, running his fingers
around the piping of the seats and prodded buttons. Munroe sang
"From Russia With Love."

'The sound system is excellent ...' Rob
began, but Black held up a finger, stalling him.

'I'm listening to it.'

Rob kept quiet until they reached the
futuristic dome of Deaconsfield service station. He drove through
the entrance and pulled up facing the exit.

The men swapped seats, Black taking off his
jacket, folding it carefully and putting it on the back seat. Rob
hid another yawn as he took his place on the passenger side. He
barely had time to click his seatbelt when Black slammed his foot
on the accelerator and roared out of the car park.

For a few moments, Rob was terrified that he
was in the company of a complete lunatic. Black was an impatient
driver, taking risks, nipping into spaces that Rob would never have
dared to contemplate. All the while, he wore a half-smile, his
hands flexing on the plump steering wheel as Rob tried to pick his
fingernails out of the white leather seats. He hoped they had not
left indentations.

On the motorway, Black commanded the fast
lane. Other cars got out of his way as they saw him coming, apart
from one who stubbornly refused to move.

'Beamer drivers,' Rob sniffed as Black lit up
the back of the blue BMW with his laser-powered headlights.
Eventually, the car drifted over to the middle lane, the driver
flipping them the finger as they passed.

'I drive a BMW,' Black said calmly. 'But only
when I'm in "asshole" mode.'

Rob decided it was wiser not to say any more.
Black wanted to drive without chatter and that was fine, but Rob
was finding it harder than ever to keep his eyes open.

A hand caressed his upper thigh, moving
slowly higher. It felt good. So good that he could feel a swelling
in his groin. Fingers caressed him, subtly moving towards his inner
thigh, pressing lightly on his balls. Blood rushed to his cock as
he remembered no-one had touched him like that for a long time. It
felt so, so good...

His eyes flickered. He realised with some
horror that he had actually dropped off to sleep. Immediately he
was awake, staring around him, checking his face to make sure he
had not begun drooling in his sleep. Even worse, he was sporting a
boner like a baseball bat, due to the erotic dream he had been in
the middle of.

It had been a dream. Hadn't it? He remembered
the frankly sensual stare Black had treated him to the day before.
Was it even possible that he had actually touched him?