Read Online Access Restricted by Alice Severin - Free Book Online

pictures of my bedroom used. I wasn’t anyone, not really, but if they wanted to turn this into something, they could. I knew the tricks. I fished around for some pound coins and dropped them into his hand, after I herded him back out the door. Hmm. I might have to switch hotels. Then I suddenly had the thought that maybe this wasn’t the paps, but Dave. Dave wondering who I was meeting, wondering if they had come up with me, Dave keeping an eye on me. Ok, I needed to slow down.
    I poured myself some tea. Fancy hotel, fancy tea—no muddy thick builder’s tea here. That meant I wouldn’t have to add milk, the traditional English way. I’d never really liked milk in tea. After all that time here, I tolerated it. And as I stirred in one of the brown sugar lumps, I thought about my paranoia about the hotel and the staff. Just because you were paranoid, didn’t mean they weren’t out to get you, right? I sat on the bed and finished the tea, trying to clear my thoughts. Tired. I was just tired. I was in London, about to do the piece of my career, and I was worried about the guy with the tea tray. Wow. I put the cup down, a little too hard, and went to wash my face. And changed my mind. I’d decided against washing off Tristan. I needed his scent on me, like a protective mark, for me to know, no one else. No one else would know.
    Oh fuck, I was so screwed. I knew how I felt. I knew. I knew all this went against everything I’d ever learned, or been told. I should be the hardass, devoted to my career above all else, except for my primitive search for a mate, looking for the perfect man, who in this scenario, was Dave. Money, respect, above judgment. The right choice.
    The thing was, I’d never cared less in my life. About any of the shoulds. Instead, with Tristan, every transgression, every moment when he called me on something thrilled me, woke me up in a way I’d never expected. This morning, those moments, the way things seemed…altered, somehow. Tristan. His eyes, the way they had looked when I kissed him, his hands holding mine, the way he laughed at his thumbs up to the man in the car. He was a little crazy, of course. And sharp, witty, and fucking sexual dynamite. And this connection…and I wasn’t going to go there. Stop thinking. It was going to be my little secret. But I lay there on the bed for a moment, remembering his hands all over me, feeling the ache as I stretched out, and wished he was there, over me, reminding me who was in charge, and why.
    And as I finally sat down at the desk, and flipped open my laptop to send a few confirmation emails, and get some phone numbers, I tried not to smile, thinking of him, pushing the feeling away, to keep it safe. I called Dave’s number at the office and left a message on the machine, to let him know I’d arrived safely, thanking him for the upgrade on the flight, and saying I would update him once I’d had some meetings. I might have been crazy, but I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t going to fuck this job up, not if I could help it. And if playing by some of the rules got a result, then this was one little test I intended to pass. High marks. I poured out some more tea, and phoned the agent for “Tits from Oz” as I was calling them in my head. I wouldn’t be using that in the article, but I wished I could. Maybe I could. Easy laugh, too easy, but not wrong. We’d see.
    I listened to the foreign ring tone and reflected on how not so long ago, it was the American trilling that had sounded strange to me. A man picked up, saying hello with a strong Australian accent. I put on my best “I care but not really” journo voice, and stifled the impulse to ask for Tits from Oz. “Hello, may I speak to Rod Seger please?”
    “Speaking.”
    “Hi there, this is Lily Taylor from The Core. I’m calling to confirm our interview this afternoon.”
    “Oh hello there. God, it’s today is it? Oh right you are, it’s Thursday, isn’t it.” He paused for a moment. “I