The Mad British by Leick Hera

Author:Leick, Hera [Leick, Hera]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-10-31T07:00:00+00:00

14

Queen

I WAKE UP alone.

It’s nothing new.

I spend a few extra minutes burrowing under the covers, pointing my toes and stretching my sore calf muscles. I finally crawl out, naked, and stumble for the bathroom. I need a shower, stat.

I’ve been dating James for over three months now, since our first date in South Bank, and his luxury Kensington apartment still looks like an estate agent is going to burst through the door at any given moment and start showing buyers around with a tape measure. It’s bigger and nicer than any place I have set foot in, with huge wall-to-ceiling windows that light up at night with the city lights.

I am, however, a bit dismayed to learn he sees nothing wrong with bare walls, minimal furniture, and nothing more personal than a toothbrush. The bedroom is bare except for the bed—this I can’t be mad at, since I never knew the love one can have for memory foam—a mahogany bureau, and for some odd reason, a painting I had sold Preston a while back. It’s quite ghastly in retrospect.

The master bathroom is a bit better, mostly because I’ve slowly been filling it with my own toiletries, including a baby bamboo plant I made from a cutting of one of my own bigger ones, and a soap dish that Steffen had crafted for me as a birthday gift one year.

I clear away the empty beer bottles that tend to accumulate in the shower for some reason, then turn on the water and start washing away the smudges of charcoal, that for once, are not on my fingers, but smeared over most of my body. I think back to last night and stifle hot trembles at the memory.

Last night had gotten a little wild. I have the teeth marks on my left boob to prove it. Actually, it’s kind of sore. He had gotten a little over-excited once I’d started giving orders, but I’m pretty sure the words ‘bite me’ weren't to be taken literally in those kinds of situations. Maybe he’s getting back at me for leaving those marks on his neck last week.

He had left early, shortly after dawn, like he usually does, and probably won’t return until late evening. Twice he has gone on business trips, which are usually lonely for a time, but the reunions are quite pleasurable.

And naked.

I clean up and pull my clothes off the floor. I’m running late. Steffen will start calling and yelling at any minute.

James’ driver, Priyam, is waiting with the car downstairs on the street. "Good morning, Miss Queen," he greets. "Mr Hatter thought you might be running late and asked me to take you to your meeting. We'll go now?" He opens the door for me.

James knows me too well already.

True enough, Steffen is parked at a table in The Coffee Hole, sipping the foam from his vanilla latte and scowling.

"God, I thought you'd never get here. Nice outfit. Didn't know wrinkled is the new look for July."

I yawn. "Sorry, I had a late night.

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