Read Online Remix (2010) by Lexi Revellian - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lexi Revellian
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if I decided to risk the hic sunt dracones parts. I scraped together some indignation. “Stop treating me like an amenity. Forget it.” I pulled away. “And it’s no good looking at me like that, either.”
“Would it help if I said I wanted to rip your clothes off the first moment I saw you?”
“No!”
“Could be your only chance to go to bed with a dead rock god.”
“Bog off.”
“You’re a hard woman, Caz Tallis.”
Making a huge effort, I got up from the sofa and cleared the dishes. Not what I wanted to do at all. Ric, I felt sure, was well aware of that. He didn’t push it. He didn’t appear unduly concerned by my rebuff. He brought the bottle and glasses to the kitchen, standing closer to me than he used to, then mooched off downstairs.
Chapter
10
*
“Has your friend gone?” James asked, once we’d ordered and the waitress had left.
“Joe?” I said, though I knew perfectly well who he was talking about. “No, actually, the man he was going to stay with couldn’t put him up after all. He’s still at the flat.”
I took a piece of hot bread off the wooden serving platter. No side plates - maybe they weren’t trendy that week - so I buttered it in my hand, crumbs going all over the white tablecloth. Delicious… The restaurant affected an air of severity, and called itself a chop house; it had been launched that spring by a first-class chef who knew his own worth.
James looked perturbed. “How long is he going to stay with you?”
“I don’t know. Till he gets himself sorted out.”
“Is he paying you rent?”
“Yes, he gave me a few hundred pounds to be getting on with.”
The waitress reappeared with two glasses of wine. I was glad I didn’t know what they cost. It might have spoilt my enjoyment.
“Have some bread, it’s lovely.”
James shook his head. He hesitated. Two young Russian men were shown to the next table, sat down and began an impassioned and incomprehensible conversation.
He said, “You’re not…he’s not…you’re not going out with him, or anything, are you?”
“Good heavens, no!” I gave a light laugh. “I’m just helping him out, that’s all. Purely temporary arrangement.”
“Who is he, Caz?”
“I told you. He was at college with me. A few years above me…” My face felt hot. I knew I was going pink. I drank some water. “Gosh, it’s warm in here.”
“Caz, I don’t want to offend you, but I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.” He gazed earnestly at me. “And now your mother’s dead, there’s nobody to look after you and I worry about you.”
James has the old-fashioned virtues, honesty, loyalty, dependability; these attributes, while not flashy, are the bedrock of any relationship. I looked away from his grave blue eyes at the white tiles, bentwood chairs, schoolroom globe lights, and a clientele who did not look rich, but must be to be here. There was a busy hum of people enjoying themselves.
“If I tell you, you’ve got to promise to keep it to yourself. Whatever you think about it.”
James looked alarmed.
“What on earth is it, Caz?”
“You’ve got to promise.”
“Okay.”
I lowered my voice. “The guy at my place. He’s Ric Kealey.”
“Ric Kealey’s dead.”
I shook my head. “No, he faked it.”
James’s hand shot across the table and grasped mine, as though he was saving me from drowning. Like I said, we don’t touch. I left my hand in his, feeling uncomfortable.
“He’s wanted for murder. You’ve got to tell the police.”
“He says he didn’t do it. And I believe him. Well, ninety-nine per cent of me does, anyway.”
James’s face was appalled. “Caz, quite apart from the danger to you of having a possible killer in your house, you’ve made yourself an accessory after the fact. You could go to prison.”
“It’s obstructing justice and harbouring a fugitive, actually. I looked it up. I couldn’t find what the sentence is, though.”
“Have you given him a set of
“Would it help if I said I wanted to rip your clothes off the first moment I saw you?”
“No!”
“Could be your only chance to go to bed with a dead rock god.”
“Bog off.”
“You’re a hard woman, Caz Tallis.”
Making a huge effort, I got up from the sofa and cleared the dishes. Not what I wanted to do at all. Ric, I felt sure, was well aware of that. He didn’t push it. He didn’t appear unduly concerned by my rebuff. He brought the bottle and glasses to the kitchen, standing closer to me than he used to, then mooched off downstairs.
Chapter
10
*
“Has your friend gone?” James asked, once we’d ordered and the waitress had left.
“Joe?” I said, though I knew perfectly well who he was talking about. “No, actually, the man he was going to stay with couldn’t put him up after all. He’s still at the flat.”
I took a piece of hot bread off the wooden serving platter. No side plates - maybe they weren’t trendy that week - so I buttered it in my hand, crumbs going all over the white tablecloth. Delicious… The restaurant affected an air of severity, and called itself a chop house; it had been launched that spring by a first-class chef who knew his own worth.
James looked perturbed. “How long is he going to stay with you?”
“I don’t know. Till he gets himself sorted out.”
“Is he paying you rent?”
“Yes, he gave me a few hundred pounds to be getting on with.”
The waitress reappeared with two glasses of wine. I was glad I didn’t know what they cost. It might have spoilt my enjoyment.
“Have some bread, it’s lovely.”
James shook his head. He hesitated. Two young Russian men were shown to the next table, sat down and began an impassioned and incomprehensible conversation.
He said, “You’re not…he’s not…you’re not going out with him, or anything, are you?”
“Good heavens, no!” I gave a light laugh. “I’m just helping him out, that’s all. Purely temporary arrangement.”
“Who is he, Caz?”
“I told you. He was at college with me. A few years above me…” My face felt hot. I knew I was going pink. I drank some water. “Gosh, it’s warm in here.”
“Caz, I don’t want to offend you, but I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.” He gazed earnestly at me. “And now your mother’s dead, there’s nobody to look after you and I worry about you.”
James has the old-fashioned virtues, honesty, loyalty, dependability; these attributes, while not flashy, are the bedrock of any relationship. I looked away from his grave blue eyes at the white tiles, bentwood chairs, schoolroom globe lights, and a clientele who did not look rich, but must be to be here. There was a busy hum of people enjoying themselves.
“If I tell you, you’ve got to promise to keep it to yourself. Whatever you think about it.”
James looked alarmed.
“What on earth is it, Caz?”
“You’ve got to promise.”
“Okay.”
I lowered my voice. “The guy at my place. He’s Ric Kealey.”
“Ric Kealey’s dead.”
I shook my head. “No, he faked it.”
James’s hand shot across the table and grasped mine, as though he was saving me from drowning. Like I said, we don’t touch. I left my hand in his, feeling uncomfortable.
“He’s wanted for murder. You’ve got to tell the police.”
“He says he didn’t do it. And I believe him. Well, ninety-nine per cent of me does, anyway.”
James’s face was appalled. “Caz, quite apart from the danger to you of having a possible killer in your house, you’ve made yourself an accessory after the fact. You could go to prison.”
“It’s obstructing justice and harbouring a fugitive, actually. I looked it up. I couldn’t find what the sentence is, though.”
“Have you given him a set of
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