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‘You are so very pretty,’ I sigh,
longingly.

His eyebrow arches, ‘pretty! Fuck me, London;
you can’t find a manlier expression?’ he scoffs.

‘But, you are a man-whore,’ I sigh, my
face exposing my disappointment at this knowledge.

‘I guess it’s a manlier expression,’ he
mutters.  ‘You know nothing about me, how can you label me?’ He asks a
little too casually.

‘What can I say, your reputation precedes
you,’ I lift my hazy alcohol-fuelled lips to a full beam smile.

He glances over to his sister with a look
that informs me he knows precisely where the information originated, before
pulling me hard against his body. 

‘Want to find out if it’s true?’ He flirts,
outrageously.

‘Do women ever say yes to that cheesy
pick up line?’ I grin. He flashes me his dimple and I almost swoon, ‘I guess
so,’ I mumble, my eyes falling to his lips.

‘Sophie!’ Ellie calls, loudly,
interrupting the intimate moment. 

Begrudgingly, I turn in the direction of
her voice and regretfully push myself away from the comfort of Nate’s chest.

‘I’m leaving, come in tomorrow for a catch-up,’
the slur in her voice is heavy, and I wonder how on earth she is going to be in
the Diner at six a.m. tomorrow.

‘I thought you were my ride back to
Marnie’s?’ I shock.

‘Nate is staying there, he can take you,’
she grins, as Eli pulls her away providing Nate and I a chin lift goodnight.

‘Your chariot awaits, milady,’ Nate calls
in a terrible English accent.

‘That is awful,’ I mock.

‘You don’t like my English accent?’ He tests,
light-heartedly.

‘Why do Americans presume we all speak
identically to the characters from Downton Abbey?’ I state, laughing.

He pulls me back against him, both of his
hands on my lower back, ‘your face becomes even more striking when you smile,’
he purrs down to me. 

‘Yeah?’ I regard him with my finest
come
and get me
look through my eyelashes.

‘Yeah!’ His voice is deep and smooth melting
my insides. 

‘Fuck, you are hot,’ I whisper,
longingly.

‘Yeah?’ his lips twitch. ‘Guess it’s an
improvement on
pretty
!’

I smile, ‘it’s a shame I’m merely a job to
you, isn’t it?’ I tease, impishly, ‘I imagine it would have been fun to explore
things further.’

He narrows his eyes as he stares down, ‘I
don’t think you believe that Sophie Parker,’ he whispers.  ‘But whether
you chose to believe it or not, there’s no doubting something is sizzling
between us here.  Believe me when I tell you, we’ll explore.’ Removing his
hands from the top of my butt, he takes one of mine and pulls us out into the
fresh air.

When we enter the hotel, all is
quiet.  There is a woman sat behind the reception desk, who greets us
warmly, her eyes lifting at surprise of our clasped hands.

‘It’s okay,’ I whisper, ‘I’ll fall if he
doesn’t hold me up.’

She grins, and I snort with
laughter.  Nate growls, ‘what the fuck, woman,’ before tugging me into the
lift.  His face is comical, and I can’t help but giggle at the expression
of disbelief that sits on his serious face.  Incredulity, I imagine, that
he finds himself in the company of a giggly, drunk woman who has too much to
say for herself.

‘You,’ I poke him again, ‘are a very
serious, sexy man, Detective Austin,’ I torment him.

He pushes me back against the wall of the
lift, but the doors open before he has a chance to continue with whatever it
was he was intending on doing.

‘Oops, saved by the doors,’ I
giggle.  I watch Nate’s lips twitch as he drags me into the corridor and
to my door.

‘Key card,’ he holds out his hand.

‘So masterful,’ I sigh, as I dig in deep
inside my handbag and locate it.

Pushing the door of number seventeen
open, he pulls me inside and shuts the door firmly behind us.  He steps forward,
and I step back, a grin on my face.  I feel exhilarated at the excitement
building inside me.  His lips stretch across his even teeth, ‘wanna play?’
his voice rumbles through me, leaving goose bumps on the surface of my skin.

‘Why not?’ Adrenaline rushes through my
veins like a drug.

‘Jesus fuck,’ he growls, ‘you are so
unbelievably beautiful,’ my back reaches the wall.  It takes one more of
his strides until he is plastered up against me, my breathing hitches, my body
burns in anticipation of his touch.

Snaking one hand around to rest on the
bottom of my spine, he moves the other up my arm, over my shoulder and curves it
around my nape.  I feel giddy, not from the alcohol I consumed but from
the heady intensity of his eyes. His thumb strokes across my bottom lip before
his fingers grasp my jaw, lifting me to his descending mouth. 

The minute our lips touch, I gasp and his
tongue plunges inside, eager to taste, to explore as it tangles against
mine.  The kiss rapidly heats as we lick and nibble, with a thirst that refuses
to quench.  I moan, pushing against his hard body, and he sucks in the
moan as I move my hands around him, running them up and down his muscled back,
craving more.  I feel his hand move to stroke across my backside sending
my insides molten.

‘Jesus, fuck,’ he groans against my
lips. 

‘Don’t stop,’ I pant, begging for more.

‘Don’t wanna,’ he pushes his evident
erection against my abdomen, ‘you’re drunk, can’t take advantage,’ he groans
against my neck. 

‘Fuck that!’ I mutter, ‘I promise I’ll
respect you in the morning,’ I whimper, desperately.  He chuckles. 
‘Don’t stop, Nate,’ I beg, seriously, sensing his detachment.

‘Sophie,’ he moves his forehead to
mine.  ‘Sorry babe, can’t do it.  You wake up and regret it; that
brings me all kinds of trouble.  When I take you and rest assured it’s gonna
happen, I want you fully conscious and aware of the implications.’

‘The implications?’ I frown, ‘what the
bloody hell are you talking about?’

‘I’m working Oliver’s investigation,
babe,’ he reminds me. ‘I get involved with you now it could be perceived as a
conflict of interest.’

I freeze at Oliver’s name, what am I
doing?  I am having a party, and my brother is lying on a slab in some
Denver mortuary? 

‘Sophie,’ he feels my muscles
tense.  ‘Don’t shut down, babe,’ he purrs.  ‘I swear as God is my
witness, this is going to happen,’ he promises.

‘Step away,’ I push against him.

‘No!’ both his hands cup my face, his
eyes penetrate mine, ‘don’t pull away, Soph,’ his lips move down and kiss me
softly.  ‘Rain check, yeah?’ he whispers against my lips.

‘Nate,’ I push again, and he reluctantly
steps back. ‘You need to go,’ I murmur, quietly, feeling guilt swoosh through
me like a high-speed train.  ‘This is wrong. Oliver!’ I remind him. 

He closes his eyes, and when he opens
them again, they are inexpressive.  ‘Okay, but we will be revisiting this,
Sophie,’ he promises. I lower my eyes, unable to bring myself to look at
him.  I all but threw myself at him; he rejected me.  The story of my
life.

********

I wake to the thumping effects of the
Tequila of last night ringing through my head.  Shit!  I drank way
too much.  I cringe as the images of Nate filter through my hazy
mind.  What did I think I was doing? 

I am here for Oliver, to stand in his
corner and ensure justice for his murder, to lay him to rest.  That
reminds me, I need to arrange a funeral.  I have no idea how to arrange a funeral
so I will have to speak to the authorities to arrange for Oliver’s body to be brought
back to Krystal.  He would want to be here, amongst his friends. 
What’s the alternative, Boston, where our father is?  No, I will lay him
to rest here. 

I have heard nothing from my dad, other
than the initial phone call I received last week to inform me of my brother’s
death.  Even then he was cold and clinical, ending the call with a
sentence that chilled me to the bone. 
I thought you might want to
know, anyhow!
  What the fuck!  Why the hell would I not want to
know that my brother was dead?  I was so stunned by hearing his voice for
the first time that I let his comment slide.

Our father knew that we had recently
reconnected and were building up to a relationship that would someday be as it
should, an unbreakable bond between siblings.  He never encouraged it, and
sometimes even discouraged it, according to Oliver, reminding him that I was a
stranger to them both and announcing his suspicion that I was seeking a pretend
relationship with my brother to gain financially. 

My father’s accusations couldn’t
have been further from the truth. I desired nothing from my father,
as far as I was concerned he was a name on a birth certificate, he was never a
father of any description, towards me. 

Oliver and I had almost reached the point
of achieving that resilient bond and were growing closer by the day, but I still
always saved a bit of me, for me alone.  I never gave anyone all of me,
willingly or otherwise.  I had been living a solitary life for as long as
I could remember, it was a hard habit to break.

Dragging myself out of my bed, I enter
the bathroom and duck into the shower.  Today, I can hopefully move into
Ollie’s and attempt to piece together the events of the past few months.

********

I walk into Ellie’s Diner to apprehend
that I am in fact alone in my hangover. 

‘How do you look bright eyed and bushy
tailed?’ I complain as I plonk down onto my usual table.

Ellie laughs, ‘girl, I can almost drink
my brother’s under the table, I don’t suppose I’ll have much trouble with a
slip of a girl like you,’ she teases. ‘Tea?’

‘Coffee, please,’ I gently pull the
oversized sunglasses from my eyes squinting at the daylight.

‘Wow, you must be suffering, you love
your tea,’ she comments, ‘breakfast?’

‘Just a piece of toast, please El,’ I
groan.

On return, Ellie brings a cup of coffee
for herself and sits opposite me, an expectant glow to her face.

‘What?’ I ask, slowly.

‘Nate?’ She wiggles her eyebrows.

I groan, ‘don’t even go there,’ I put my
head in my hands as embarrassment hits me, full force.

‘Give!’ She demands, before frowning,
‘well, not all of the details, of course, that would just be plain gross.’

‘Nothing to give,’ I shrug, sipping at
the scalding coffee.

‘Come on Soph,’ she urges.  ‘I know
my brother, and he doesn’t lose his shit over a woman, they naturally throw
themselves at him. No, he is staking his claim.  Actually, that goes for
both of my brothers,’ her lips twist at the irony. ‘Personally, I don’t see the
attraction,’ she leans forwards, her elbows on the table in front of her, ‘did
you get down and dirty?’ She whispers the final sentence.

‘No!’ I scold her, a little too loudly. I
glance around to see if anyone was listening, it seems not.

‘So, you don’t find him attractive?’ She
presses, tipping her head to one side to contemplate this. ‘That’s a sure way
of gaining his attention.’

‘Yes,’ I sigh, ‘no!’

‘Use your words, girl,’ she watches the conflicting
emotions cross my face with blatant interest.

‘He,’ I glance around the room again to
ensure no one overhears me, ‘rejected me,’ I murmured, quietly.

‘Rejected you,’ Ellie repeats, seemingly
perplexed by my confession.  ‘Girl, I was their last night and witnessed
how he looked at you,’ she shakes her head.  ‘Maybe you misunderstood.’

‘Ellie, he told me that getting involved
with me would be a conflict of interest,’ I state, clearly.

‘Say what?’ She frowns as bewilderment
etches her expression.

‘He’s in charge of Ollie’s homicide
investigation, he can’t get involved with me, in case it’s seen as a conflict
of interest,’ I explain, logically. 

A young redheaded girl places a plate of
toast beside me, ‘thank you,’ I mutter up, gratefully.  My stomach is
churning with hunger, but at the same time feels incredibly delicate.

‘So, he does want you, but wants you to
wait until he cracks the case?’ Ellie recaps.

‘When the case is closed, I’ll be going
home, my friend,’ I notify her, nibbling on the piece of dry toast.  I
ignore the plunging of my gut at the prospect of leaving Krystal, without
sampling the delights of a certain hot detective.

She regards me pensively for a few
moments, ‘such a shame,’ she mutters, under her breath, ‘what’s at home?’

‘What’s at home?’ I repeat, dumbly.

‘Who’s waiting for you at home?’ She
elaborates. ‘What are you going home for?’ I stare blankly over to her,
speechless as my mind computes her questions.

‘I have friends, clients,’ I defend.

She nods, ‘no family?’ She murmurs,
softly.

‘I have some family,’ I shrug.  ‘An
aunt and a few cousins. My best friend is in London, my goddaughter.’

Ellie nods, as if my admission has
confirmed something within her mind.

********

Looking around my brother’s home, that
sits above his salon; I allow the tears to fall silently. It’s hard to believe
that he is gone for good, after suffering such a brutal death.  The truth
of the matter is that I never knew Ollie at all, not really and now I will
never get the chance.

I had walked into the Sheriff’s office to
check up on whether there were any developments, to be told by a Detective
Johnson, that Ollie’s laptop, mobile phone, and bank accounts had been seized,
due to the fact narcotics were involved.

I still struggled to comprehend that
Ollie was involved in drugs.  We spoke weekly, via the internet, where he
looked both happy and healthy, a sure sign, in my mind, that he was living a
clean life.  Plainly, I was wrong.  It seems it is possible to take
drugs to function normally, which I now suspect was the case with Ollie.

The apartment was clean and relatively
tidy, although it was hard to tell whether it was the cops that had returned
things to how they were before they delved into his belongings and his life, or
it was how Ollie chose to live.

When I had asked whether there was any
further information regarding the investigation, Detective Johnson had informed
me that Nate would be in contact when he returned from Denver City. He had also
updated me to the fact that Nate was continuing the investigation from his
office in the city, and wasn’t expected back until after the weekend.  It
seems that Nate was putting distance between us to ensure that last night’s
kiss didn’t reoccur. 

Kicking off my wedge sandals, I look
under the sink to find some marigold gloves and cleaning products and set to
work cleaning the entire apartment before I take residence.

********

Closing the door on the landlord, I
wander into Ollie’s kitchen area and open the fridge to bring out a bottle of
beer.  The living and kitchen area was open planned, separated only by a
breakfast bar.  Pulling off the cap of the bottle with the contraption
stuck to the fridge, I lift the bottle to my lips and suck back a healthy
mouthful. 

The more I delve, the more I discover
about Ollie and his miserable life.  I always assumed he had the better
deal living a life of luxury with our father, rather than being dumped on
unassuming relatives at birth, but it transpires that his life had been
possibly harder than mine in a lot of ways.

 Ollie had been behind on his rent,
by three months.  That also meant that he had been behind on his rent for
the salon, also by three months.  The only way the landlord would permit
me to remain in the apartment was to settle Ollie’s arrears and to pay three
months’ rent up front. 

I step into the living room area and gaze
down on the street outside. I could have returned to Marnie’s; she would have
found me a room until the time came for me to return to England, but here I
felt closer to Ollie, closer to finding out the reason why his life had swiftly
gone down the pan. I also preferred my own space and Ollie’s provided me that
luxury.

I had questioned Detective Johnson about
Simon, but he had shaken his head reaffirming that Nate was in charge of the investigation,
and the easiest thing to do was to speak to Nate.  I had then pointed out
that Nate wasn’t around and asked that maybe someone else could help, but he
had updated me that Nate was working the case with his own people.

Frustrated, I had returned to the
apartment to find the landlord standing in the middle of Ollie’s living room.

Making an on the spot decision, I put the
bottle of beer on the side table and collect my keys from the dish on the work
surface and run down the stairs to the salon.

********

On the following Sunday night, I finally
receive a return call through from my father informing me that he had arranged
Ollie’s funeral to take place in Boston.  For the first time in my life, I
argued with my dad. I expressed how Krystal was the perfect resting place for
Ollie, seeing as he had made it his home for the past four years.  As
expected, he dismissed my claims and updated me that the service had already been
organised for the following Thursday, he also remarked that there was no need
for me to attend seeing as I hardly knew Ollie.  That hurt, a lot.

He seemed oblivious to the fact that it
was he that prevented that from happening.  How could he not see that I
would have loved to have had the opportunity to know my brother a whole lot
more? 

After reminding me he was Ollie’s next of
kin, he hung up on me.  I was powerless.

********

Tuesday afternoon, I pop into Ellie’s and
eat a sandwich sat up at the counter to enable me to chat to her as she worked.

‘So, Nate called,’ she placed a pot of
tea in front of me, her gaze flickering to mine, measuring my response.

‘That’s nice of him,’ I mutter,
sarcastically, as I bite into my tuna sandwich.

‘He asked me to tell you he is back on
Thursday, and asked whether you could carve out some time for him to discuss
Oliver,’ She recites, cautiously.

‘I’m flying to Boston tonight,’ I notify
her.

‘Boston?’ She mumbles, ‘you coming back?’
Her face is blank, seemingly shocked by my announcement.

‘Yes,’ I nod as I chew, ‘be back Friday.’

‘Sophie,’ Ellie scolds me, ‘you have to
start using full sentences.’

‘I’m eating, El,’ I put down my sandwich
and faced my new friend. ‘I don’t want to make a big deal, but it’s Oliver’s
funeral,’ I express.  ‘My dad wouldn’t allow me to lay him to rest in
Krystal, so I am flying out to Boston.  Not that he’s invited me, of
course,’ I mutter, as I pick up the stray pieces of tuna salad with a
fork. 

‘Oh, honey,’ she whispers, her sapphire
blue eyes, identical to Nate’s, regard me empathetically. 

‘It’s fine,’ I express, ‘I don’t want to
talk about it, I just want it over.’ I announce, matter of fact.  ‘My dad
doesn’t want me to go,’ I confide.  ‘But I should be allowed to say
goodbye, right?’ Tears blur my vision.  ‘Can anyone stop you from
attending a funeral?’ I ask.

Ellie’s hand covers mine, ‘no Sophie, you
stand by what you believe in, doll,’ she whispers, ‘you want me to come with?’
She offers.

‘You would as well, wouldn’t you?’ I
sniff back a tear at the kindness and friendship this woman has offered me from
day one. 

‘Of course,’ she frowns, as if the idea
of me doubting that for a minute, is preposterous.

‘Thank you, Ellie,’ I smile weakly. 
‘But, no, I need to do this alone.  I need to face my father and tell him
exactly what I think of him.’ I tell her, a quiver in my voice.

Ellie nods, ‘okay, babe. You need me, you
call, okay?’

‘Thanks, El.’  I feel so blessed to
have met Ellie Austin.  She’s known me for a couple of weeks and has
already adopted me as one of her own.   The sadness that brought me
to Krystal somehow being compensated by the depth of kindness in its occupants.

********

As I walk into the chapel of the
crematorium, my heart is beating erratically. I dressed carefully in a black pencil
dress and high strappy nude sandals.  The weather is hot and humid, stormy
even, and I can tell it’s going to be an uncomfortable day in more ways than
one. 

I ignore the curious glances from various
strangers, also dressed in various degrees of black, and take a seat on the
third row, where there is a gap.  I clasp my hands together in my lap and
swallow down the lump that is already forming in my throat.  Laying in a
maple coffin to the front of the chapel is my brother, at the age of
thirty-six, lifeless, his life ending before it began.  Someone sits
beside me, I feel the current between us and turn abruptly into a pair of soft
sapphire eyes.

‘Hey,’ Nate whispers, sliding an arm
across the back of the wooden bench.

‘Hi,’ I breathe, never more grateful to
see his handsome, friendly face.  ‘How are you here?’

‘Ssshhh,’ he tucks me into his side,
supportively, as the service begins.

Sending Nate, a warm, appreciative smile,
I avert my attention to my father’s profile. He seems totally unaffected by his
surroundings as he sits there dressed in an expensive suit, his greying hair
swept back from his strong forehead and jaw.  Ollie had shown me pictures
of him and described the character of our dad, but I hadn’t seen him for myself,
like ever!  How sad is that? 

Meeting Ollie for the first time, I knew
we had a connection, we both sensed it.  It was as if somehow we were
linked, despite our separation, as if deep inside, our souls were
familiar.  With my dad, that wasn’t the case at all, he was a stranger and
I had no profound urge or inclination to know him better.

When I was younger, my grandparents asked
whether I wanted to visit him, I declined.  I knew it wasn’t my father
that extended the invitation because I had heard my grandma cursing him to my
grandad, late one night when they thought I was asleep. 

‘How can he not want to know her? 
Our baby’s, baby?’ Grandma had cried.

‘It’s his loss,’ my granddad had
expressed.  ‘He was always a cold fish.  The only reason he kept
Oliver, was to pass down the business to him,’ my granddad had cursed. ‘Sophie
is better off not knowing him.’