Emma
The next day, my schedule returned to normal, as Barrett left for work, and the kids went to school. I walked home after dropping them off, to the rambling townhouse, and tidied up like usual. This morning, I didn’t dance afterward. I was feeling too anxious and confused. Instead, I studied for a while, and then, like some siren call was tempting me, I found myself standing in the doorway to Barrett’s room. The spicy scent of his cologne called to me, and I approached his wardrobe. It felt wrong to be in here without his knowledge, but I didn’t think he’d actually mind. He was open about everything in the house. No, he wouldn’t mind. The only thing that made it feel wrong was the way I felt inside. I wanted him. I wanted to be fucked hard into the bed right there, and maybe up against the dresser, too. The walk-in shower in his en-suite was perfect for more of the kind of things I wanted to do with him. Inside his wardrobe, everything was hung precisely. His shirts were sorted in colour order, which was so Barrett. He was an organised man. Controlled and precise. It was one thing I greatly respected about him, and yet at the same time, I’d love to know what it took to break that carefully constructed control and see underneath.
My eyes zeroed in on the pants that I’d found my underwear in. I felt driven to know, compelled on a biological level, to find out if he still had them. I felt through the pockets, my heart pounding as I did. Nothing. They were empty. I turned to look around the room. Had he put them back? Hidden them somewhere else? Had it been some kind of freak accident, like they’d gotten stuffed in there by mistake? I hoped not. I didn’t want it to be an accident. I wanted Barrett to want me. I couldn’t lie to myself about that.
Well, as they say in London, in for a penny, in for a pound. I hunted through his drawers, carefully, so as not to disturb anything. I’d die of embarrassment if he ever found out what I was doing.
His dresser came up empty, as did his nightstand. I sank onto the edge of his bed and stared despondently at his bedside light. They weren’t here. So, maybe it had been an accident after all.
Unless…
I turned to the pile of pillows against the headboard. Barrett was one of those people who made their beds every morning, no matter what. I slid my hand under the soft mound before I could second guess it. My hand closed around a scrap of cotton. With a pounding heart, I pulled them out. My pink panties. Under Barrett’s pillow.
I flopped back on the covers; the panties held above my face and stared at them, mind racing, trying to get a grip on what any of this meant. He was marrying me for the visa; but also he was stealing my panties and sleeping with them under his pillow? My skin felt hot and tight, and a low, illicit thrill was warming me, running like melted butter down my spine and pooling between my legs. It was turning me on, this feeling of being wanted by Barrett. Just the idea of his regard was making me wet. I had it bad for this man, and just the slightest hint that he might have it bad too was destroying me. My hand fell to my breasts. They felt tight and too constrained in my bra. My nipples were hard, tormented by the smell of Barrett surrounding me, as I lay on his bed. I touched them, rubbing over the hard points with my thumbs, my eyes closed, as I imagined what it would be like to lay right here with him. My hand drifted lower. I wanted to touch myself, on his bed, with the image of our sham wedding night in my head. I wanted to come, surrounded by his scent. My hand slipped just inside the stretchy waistband of my yoga pants and over the damp front of my panties. It wouldn’t take much. I was so turned on. I could get off here, like this, with him in my mind, and no one would ever know.
I slid my fingers beneath the elastic, just as the doorbell jangled discordantly, and sent me sitting bolt upright on his bed.
I ran from the room as if the sheets had burned me, my face as red as a tomato. As soon as I was out of there and running downstairs, it occurred to me just how much I’d lost my mind. I got to the front door, and was just about to open it, when I realised that I still had the pink underwear clutched in my hand. I stuffed it into a drawer in the console table and opened the door.
A woman stood on the top step. A beautiful, polished woman, wearing towering heels and a designer dress. It had ducks on it. For some reason, the image of mallards on purple silk seared itself into my brain. She lowered her sunglasses down her nose and peered at me over the top of them.
“Good morning. Can I help you?” I prompted, when she did nothing but stare at me.
“I should think so. I’m Amber. Chloe and Henry’s mother,” she said. Shock froze me to the spot. I didn’t know what to do or think at that moment. Barrett and I hadn’t even discussed what I should do if the kid’s mother ever showed up. He had believed it to be such an impossibility. “Invite me in, won’t you?” Amber said, gracefully stepping inside and taking advantage of my momentary confusion. I stumbled back, and watched as she shook her coat off, and swanned in the direction of the kitchen.
I followed, swallowing down my panic. Ok, deep breaths. It’s fine. The kids aren’t here. Barrett isn’t here. I’ll just find out what she wants, and send her away, and then Barrett can handle it.
“I’ll take a coffee if you’re making it,” Amber said, perching on a barstool at the island, leaving me to stand beside her, hovering near the coffee machine like a live-in barista.
“I’m not,” I told her flatly. “I have to go out soon, so this will have to be short, and of course, I should call Mr Bonneville and tell him you’re here,” I informed her. Amber raised an eyebrow at me.
“Mr Bonneville? Does he make him call you that? I bet be gets off on the power trip,” Amber said, giving me a calculating smile.
“No, he doesn’t make me. I do because he’s my boss.”
“And soon to be husband, I heard,” Amber said, her smile turning vicious. “I know he must have been lonely since I left, but really, forcing a poor young thing like you to shackle herself to an old man with two kids is cruel, even for Barrett.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I won’t discuss anything about my private life with you. I don’t know you,”
“And I don’t know you, but apparently you’re going to be my children’s step-mother.”
I shrugged. I hated conflict, and it always had the power to turn me as silent as a stone. Now, I fought through it. It was clear that weakness in front of this woman was a mistake.
“That’s between Barrett and me. It’s not like you have a say. You don’t have custody claims of any kind,” I reminded her. It was harsh, and maybe uncalled for, but then again, this woman abandoned her kids and hadn’t seen fit to come and see them for a year. Now she was here, just to confront me, not to see them. She turned my stomach.
“So, you’re going to be the adoring young wife, and new mommy to the twins,” Amber sneered, and then leaned in. “Do it if it’s just for the visa, but be warned, don’t fall for Barrett, honey. He isn’t capable of returning love, and he’ll be a work-obsessed, power-hungry control freak until the day he dies. You might tempt him from his work for a while, but in the end, down the line, you’ll end up just like me,” she said.
“It’s not your business, at any rate,” I told Amber shortly. In truth, her words sank into my vulnerable skin like small knives, embedding in all my soft, weak places. Just like my father, a treacherous voice in the back of my head sang. You’ve fallen for a man who won’t love you more than his job, just like dear old daddy. “I think you should go. Barrett wouldn’t like you here, like this.”
“And I’m sure you do everything your master tells you, and then wait for the little pat on the head he’ll give you for following his rules. You inexperienced little fool,” Amber sneered, making no move to get up.
“You really are stuck on this age thing, aren’t you?” I decided to take a different tack to get Amber out of the house. “Yes, I am young. Your ex is going to marry a woman fifteen years younger than him… how will that look to all your mutual friends?” I wondered aloud. Again, I felt a little bad, but this woman was really asking for it. I had to get her out of here or lose it completely. Amber flushed, and narrowed her eyes at me, opening her red-painted mouth for a no doubt cruel set down, when a deep voice boomed across the kitchen.
“I believe Emma asked you to leave, Amber. Don’t ignore her. This is her house now,” Barrett said. He wasn’t shouting, and yet his voice held absolute authority. In fact, the quieter he was, the more terrifying he sounded. I sagged with relief at having an ally. He was standing in the doorway, his whole body deceptively relaxed. I could see the small ways that tension filled him, in the tightness to his eyes and curled fists. However, his face, as handsome as ever, was emotionless, while facing the woman he had once married.
“Is that right? No. I don’t think I will leave. I think I’ll stay here until the kids come home and see what they have to say about their new mommy,” Amber said. My heart hurt at the very idea of this woman using the kids against Barrett. They’d be so surprised to see her, their little hearts on their sleeves, and she was only here to cause trouble.
“No, you won’t.”
“And how will you stop me? Call the police?’ Amber goaded. Barrett smiled then, and it was chilling.
“No, not the police. How vulgar of you. I’ll call the bank,” Barrett said, and I saw panic flitter across Amber’s face before she smoothed it over. She opened her mouth to speak, and Barrett pulled his phone from his pocket. “One more word,” he promised, unlocking his cell. Amber’s mouth clicked shut hard enough to be heard, and she stood. I was impressed by her decisiveness. I’d never seen someone cave so quickly. Amber clearly knew what was in her best interests, and risking her gravy train wasn’t worth anything.
She gave me a long, scathing up and down, which I ignored, and then swept toward the door. In silence she got to the top step outside, and turned on the threshold, no doubt about to impart some dig that she hoped would live on in our minds, torturing us. Barrett nudged the door, and before she could speak, it slammed closed with resounding firmness.
“Are you alright?” he said immediately, turning from the door to look at me. I shrugged.
“Of course I am. I’m fine… I just didn’t know what to do. We’ve never talked about it before.”
“That’s because I’m certain she’d never have come here, if not for wanting to meet you. I shouldn’t have told her I was getting married again,” he said, letting out a long sigh. I wrapped my arms around my chest and hugged myself, suddenly feeling shaky. Barrett caught my eye, and his shoulders dropped. He reached out and snagged my arm, pulling me into an embrace. The hug was so fierce and sudden, it stole my breath for a moment.
“You’re ok. Everything is ok. Don’t worry about anything she said. She’s bitter, and unhappy, and wants to make everyone that way,” he said into my ear. It should have felt weird to be hugged by my boss, but it didn’t. It didn’t at all. It felt amazing. I reveled in the feeling.
“I don’t care what she said about me,” I lied. “I just didn’t know what to do, if the kids saw her, what to say… I don’t want them to get hurt,” I told him. That was the truth. I never wanted Henry and Chloe to get hurt. Barrett rubbed a warm palm in a circle across my back, soothing me. “I know what it’s like for a parent not to want you. I never want Chloe and Henry to feel like that,” I confessed. Barrett pulled back, gazing down at me. I was fitted snugly in his arms, and I felt perfectly content. He tucked a stray hair behind my ear, and the sweetness of the movement made me weak.
“Who wouldn’t want you?” he murmured, as if the very idea was impossible. I laughed, but it sounded sad.
“You’d be surprised.”
“Clearly. I can’t picture it at all,” he said, his finger landing on my cheek, and smoothing the skin there. I wasn’t familiar with casual touching. Hugs, and hand holding, and small, easy ways of showing affection weren’t things I’d grown up with. Every touch mattered to me, and Barrett touching me like he was, made my palms sweat. I had to focus on something else.
“Why are you home now? What kind of coincidence is this?” I wondered, stepping back and trying to suck some oxygen into my deprived brain.
“It’s no coincidence, Emma.”
“Wait, you mean you knew Amber was here? How?” I wondered. Barrett’s hands fell to his sides, and his face grew serious. I felt a sudden apprehension at hearing what he had to say. There was a weight to his silence that felt loaded with a tension I didn’t understand. He motioned for me to follow him to the kitchen, out of the drafty hallway.
“No, I didn’t know she was here. I found out when I was already on my way home.” Barrett said to me, as we made our way into the sunny, open-plan room.
“How did you find out?” I asked. I felt like I was missing something obvious here, but hadn’t a bloody clue how to catch up. I leaned against the kitchen island and watched Barrett as he stopped just before me. He looked good enough to eat today, in a pale blue shirt and grey suit. I could stare at him all day. Focus, Emma. I tried to turn my mind back to what he was saying.
“I saw it,” Barrett said simply.
“You saw it,” I repeated. He nodded, looking at me as if waiting for something more. “Saw it where?” I asked, but inside, I already knew. Heat and awareness prickled across my skin like the air before a storm hit. Everything inside me drew up and waited in breathless anticipation.
“On the nanny cams. There’s one in the hall, the kitchen, playroom, kid’s rooms, and… mine.”
That last word sent a silent bomb off inside me. He’d seen me in his room. He’d been watching me.
“It’s not what you think… I was just putting something away-,” I started, my chest feeling tight. Shame filled me, and a squirming, hot embarrassment so thick I could barely breathe through it. Barrett tutted a loud, commanding sound.
“Don’t lie, Emma. I know what you were doing,” Barrett said quietly. I dropped his fiery gaze. I couldn’t hold it for one more second. His hand came up, a finger lifting my chin so I was forced to look at him. “I saw you… why do you think I was coming home?”
I blinked at him, held in place by his look, and the embarrassment that was crippling me to the spot. “I can’t have you touching yourself on my bed… all alone, sweetheart. Making you come on my bed is my right and no one else’s,” he said, in that same quiet tone. His words sank through me.