 
Foolish – (Part One of the 'Love is a Gamble' Series)

### By Ruby Foxx

### Smashwords Edition

### Text Copyright © 2014 Ruby Foxx

### All Rights Reserved

### Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the author.

### This is a work of fiction. All events portrayed in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Please note that the beliefs expressed in this book do not necessarily represent the beliefs held by the author.

### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

### This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Please note Foolish is Part One of a Two-Part Series. Part Two, Regret, is available now.
Georgia is a fool in love and her foolishness is determined to haunt her.
Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Other Books and Contact Details
CHAPTER ONE

The gale force winds pushed and tugged at Georgia Greene's slender form as she held out her hand in the desperate hope that a taxi would take a pity on her and stop. In normal circumstances Georgia was the type of girl who could not only stop taxis, she could stop traffic. She had a youthful, fresh-faced beauty and strawberry blonde waves that cascaded down the side of her face in a peek-a-boo fashion. She had legs so long that men would drool at the imagined torment of tip-toeing their fingers up from her feet and never reaching the top, and her eyes were of hazel with an amber hue circling their centre like a ring of fire.

Unfortunately for Georgia, on this particular day when the rain was beating down on her like pellets, her beauty was masked by the sopping, tangled hair whipping around her cheeks. Her uniform of tunic and trousers were soaked through to her cold and shivering flesh, glued to her body.

The thunderstorm she could handle. It was nature's way of maintaining electrical balance, and although caught in it's savagery, it also made her feel exhilarated, stirring up a childlike excitement. It was the wanker driving a white van that she found intolerable. He was not one of nature's wondrous creations.

"Give me a break!" cried Georgia as the vehicle managed to drive straight through a ditch of water at the kerb's edge, drenching her from head to toe. She could guarantee that he was sharing a smug chuckle with his Neanderthal passenger too.

She began to make her way around the corner and down the main street, systematically holding out her hand at passing cabs, it seemed more proactive than just standing like a loser at the bus-stop. Then, feeling a hand grip her arm, she spun around, fully prepared to release the anger building up, on the unsuspecting stranger.

Her eyes were met by a tall man dressed in a long, black cashmere coat, beckoning her with his hand into the building behind him. His features were compressed as he squinted in protection from the brash gusts, but it was impossible not to fixate on his eyes, instantly drawn to their unusual colour of steel blue-grey. She almost didn't register his speech at first, so caught up was she by their iridescence. Believing she hadn't heard him, he repeated his invite.

"You can get under cover in here till the rain stops," he said loudly, enunciating his words to ensure he could be understood over the howling noise. Georgia paused to look up at the apartment complex he was referring to and caught her breath. It was the 'Phillimore Garden' apartments and she'd passed it on her way to work, often fantasising of living there, envious of the rich business suits that went in and out it's grade II listed doors.

"Thanks," she mouthed, taking just seconds to weigh up the dangers when she noticed a tornado of leaves headed straight for her. The man swiped a card down the security pad and pushed open the door, gesturing for Georgia to walk through first.

The two rushed into the large reception area, huffing and puffing and instinctively self-grooming before they locked eyes on one another. As Georgia looked up from her squelching trainers, she realised that the man's attention was already upon her. Was he aware that his awe-struck gaze was being mistaken for an inappropriate stare?

Even with blackened streaks of mascara running down her cheeks and wet hair stuck flat to her scalp, he could tell she was a shining beauty. Max knew he had to speak up before the woman decided that being blown away in a storm was preferable to being alone with a mute, goggle-eyed weirdo.

"Goddam, what the hell was that?" he said, brushing his palm over his forehead to stop the trickles of water running down into his eyes. The second detail she noticed was his distinguished hairstyle, it was a longer version of the crew-cut with the top plucked up in irregular jags, and it's grittiness suited him. Really suited him. Along with a hint of stubble, it gave him a look of gentleman bad-boy.

"I know. Did I miss the news? Was Armageddon scheduled for today?"

"Well if it is, I couldn't die a happier man."

Georgia looked at him quizzically, "Why? You have a deal with God or something?"

"Don't you need a soul for that?" he replied offhandedly.

"Oh I see, you traded with him downstairs then?"

"No, not at all. I meant if yours was the last face I saw, then that would be ok."

Georgia felt a pinkness tinge her cheeks and she glanced towards the floor as a puddle slowly collected around her feet. Maybe this guy was weirder than she thought, especially as the reflection in the glass-doors told her she was looking both washed-up and washed-out.

"And lying will definitely lose you the Heaven pass," she warned.

"And if you want the name of the man making you blush, it's Max. Max Parrish."

That was when she first noticed it, and it grabbed her attention like a hand around the throat. His smile. He had this cute thing where his mouth curled up at one side, sort of lop-sided, and it played a big part in disarming her. She wondered what it was about a great smile that could bestow innocence and sincerity on anyone.

"I'm G..illy, good to meet you Max."

A fake name to male strangers was always offered, in these 'one-on-one' moments at least, with Georgia forever aware of the crackpot who had stalked her couple of years ago.

"Let me guess, you're a beautician, am I right?" said Max, observing her wine coloured uniform.

"Wow, you're good. What gave it away?" she asked with pseudo-surprise.

"I'm not sure. Your make-up perhaps? Is that a new way of applying mascara because I've never seen that before," he teased, drawing his finger down his cheek.

Georgia sniggered, finding his comments refreshingly cheeky, and she lifted up her thumb in an attempt to wipe away the black streaks running from her eyes.

"I'm just kidding. Here, take this," he said, offering her a folded handkerchief from his pocket. "So where do you work?"

Georgia, still on her guard, was succinct with her answer. "At a salon."

"Listen, I know your Mum probably warned you about stranger-danger and all that, but I really think you should come up to the apartment and dry yourself off. I've got taxi numbers, and perhaps a hot toddy to shake off the chill? I'm guessing you may have to wait a while for a taxi with weather like this; it'll be a busy night for them."

"Sorry, no offence but I'll just wait here till the rain stops. You could be a serial killer or kidnapper, for all I know."

She smiled sweetly, hoping he would not be affronted by her allusions of him, as much as she meant them. She figured that's how many unfortunate girls had been tricked to their doom, agreeing to whatever the offender suggested, all in the need to be amiable. She really didn't want to end up as one of those statistics.

"Good. That's good. You're right to be careful," he nodded. "But just wait one moment."

Max knocked on a door that had a 'CONCIERGE' sign on it and a plump, middle-aged woman appeared with a teenage girl peering over her shoulder.

"Oh hey Max, what a nice surprise. What can I do for you?" she said, a warmth filling her voice.

"Hey Mrs Quinn, I just wanted you to vouch for me being trustworthy," said Max, cocking his head towards Georgia.

The woman glanced over at Georgia and gave her a kindly smile, crossing her arms over her generous bosom, "Trustworthy? Well, I've known Max for four years and I'd say he was one of the finest gentlemen I've ever met. So yes Miss," she replied, "I would trust him with my own daughter and let me tell you, I never say that."

The teenage girl stood up on tip-toe and hooked her arms over her mother's shoulders. "Hey Max, you're looking mint today."

The woman smacked the girls arm and tutted loudly. "Although I couldn't say the same for trusting my daughter with Max."

"This young lady here thinks I'm a serial killer or kidnapper."

Then he turned to wink at Georgia. He made the gesture so casually, so swiftly, and yet even now, seconds later, she was still feeling it's after-effects. In that blink of an eye, she saw warmth, realness, whimsy, and her heart literally missed a beat. Her former apprehensions were irrelevant now; she was already being held captive by him.

The woman laughed heartily. "Max? No way. He may charm you to death but that's about it."

"I'm available for kidnapping Max, just let me know where and when," giggled her daughter, earning herself another smack.

"Stacey, get back inside and do your homework!" she scolded, turning round to push her back in. "I really don't remember being that frisky at her age," she whispered as her daughter slinked away.

"I bet you still turned the boy's heads though," he teased, in a playful manner that was indicative of a long-standing and easy banter between the two.

"Their stomachs more like," yelled Stacey.

"I won't warn you again young lady. Your Dad is due home any minute so I only have to say the word."

"Ok. I'm doing my homework now, promise!"

Mrs Quinn smiled knowingly and folded her arms again. Georgia thought how amiable the woman was, the type who would give you a comforting hug if you needed it.

"So what's your name dear?" asked Mrs Quinn.

"It's Georgia," she replied as she held out her hand.

As soon as the words left her mouth she glanced awkwardly at Max. The subtle look of confusion he returned confirmed that he had picked up on her surprise change of name.

"Well Georgia I know all the comings and goings in this place so don't fear," assured Mrs Quinn.

"So, what do you say?" Max asked.

"Ok, well it would be of help I suppose, especially as I left my phone at work."

"That's settled then. Sorry to have bothered you Mrs Quinn. See you soon. Okay, Gilly-Georgia, follow me," he said as he began to climb the wide, wooden staircase.

Georgia simpered and hesitantly stepped forward as Max strode confidently up to the first floor. She felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. Her actions were contrary to everything that her upbringing had taught her. 'Don't talk to strangers, don't get into their cars, and definitely don't enter their home.' How fickle were her beliefs when she was clearly making exceptions for ridiculously handsome ones?

Following him into the apartment she hurriedly glanced around for any suspect activity. Her angst was partly quashed by fascination at the plush spaciousness of her surroundings. It had a sort of calming, Island Retreat vibe. So, on first impressions, he was wealthy, stylish and a clean-freak. Such a huge contrast to the homes of the male friends she knew. Their homes consisted of X-Boxes, urine splattered toilet-seats and take-away containers.

Their body language couldn't be more contrasting. Max with a relaxed, flowing manner, threw his keys on the kitchen island, and then taking off his overcoat, he placed it on the back of the chair. Suddenly an apricot ball of fur came bounding in and jumped straight up his legs. When Georgia noticed it had a wagging tail, she realised it was a puppy, a gorgeous cockerpoo breed.

"Hey Red, how are you boy? Look, I've brought in a pretty lady to meet you."

Red promptly turned his attention to Georgia, eager to investigate the new and foreign scent. As he tried to climb her leg, Georgia's maternal side immediately melted her heart and she crouched down to stroke the exuberant pet. "He's the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"I think the feeling is mutual," he said as he headed through the open-plan area, over to the drinks cabinet. Georgia was grateful that her anxiety was reducing by the second, eased by how welcomed she felt, by both dog and his master.

"So what's your poison?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

Max smirked. "Sorry, that was a poor choice of words in the circumstances. I mean what drink would you like? Brandy, wine, coffee?"

"Brandy? Lord no. My Mum has got the nose of a bloodhound. It's not worth the lecture to be honest. I'll just have a coffee."

"Sorry, I didn't realise I'd got you on a school-night," he teased, taking out a whiskey glass for himself.

"I think she forgets I'm 21. Since my Dad died two years ago, she's gone from being easy-going to becoming this tyrant. I mean my Dad was fairly strict but never that bad."

"You're very young to have lost your Father, I'm sorry to hear that."

Georgia looked down at Red again, she hadn't meant to just blurt out her Father's demise like that but it had been made in retaliation to his teasing. In no way did she want him thinking her family were inherently odd, their oddness was only recent and had a reasonable explanation.

"I suppose it's a natural reaction to grief," he said thoughtfully, "Perhaps she's paranoid that she'll lose you too."

Georgia was focusing less on his words, and becoming more intrigued by his ambiguous inflection. It was a voice that could melt butter, silvery and modulated in tone, and which she was sure revealed a subtle Scottish lilt. "Why is your accent not plummy, like many of the posh-nobs around here?"

"I wasn't born so much with a silver spoon in my mouth, more like a steel-cap boot up my ass. My Dad was quite an enforcer, taught us to graft for everything. We lived in Edinburgh until I was twelve, then we moved to Kent, and then I moved to Camden a couple of years ago. So I picked up this hybrid accent that fits in nowhere."

With the warmth of the room wrapping around her like a comfort blanket, she eagerly took off the wet layer of her blazer and handed it to Max's outstretched hand

"What do you do work-wise anyway?" she asked.

He hesitated before responding, "I'm a professional poker player."

"Oh."

His answer had put her on the back-foot, she didn't know anything about poker, except that players were expert deceivers and it kind of made her feel uneasy. Was she in the apartment of an unscrupulous man that had managed to beguile her with a mere smile and a cute wink?

Max turned to look at her. "That always gets a mixed reaction. They say never to believe a word that comes out of a poker player's mouth, and I agree, except I'm the exception."

"And that could be a lie right there."

"The only time to be on your guard is when I have a deck of cards in my hand."

She knew she couldn't do much about his revelation; she didn't want to care in all honesty. She was in his apartment and she would have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Plus, she pondered more logically, poker playing skills had never been a pre-requisite for a murderous appetite, as far as she knew. Her only conclusion was that he may not make prime boyfriend material. Imagine the paranoia ever being married to a professional liar, the 'not knowing' would send you insane. Her instinct nudged her to quickly make the phone-calls that had brought here in the first place.

"Do you mind if I call a taxi and my Mum? She'll be wondering where I am."

"Go ahead, phone's over there and taxi is on speed dial 9. If you want some dry clothes, I'll put them in the bathroom for you. It's through that door, first on the right."

As soon as she had booked the taxi, she dialled her home number and recited the white lie in her head.

"Hi Mum."

" _Georgia, I've been worried sick about you. Where are you?"_

"I'm fine Mum, I only realised I'd left my mobile at work when I was waiting at the bus-stop. Then the heavens opened up and I got drenched head to toe.. This very nice..lady..said I could use her phone to book a taxi. Taxi said they'll be here in about 30 minutes."

" _Ok sweetie, I'll have your tea on and say thank you from me to the lady."_

Georgia hated deceiving her Mum but she couldn't bear the consequences of her knowing the truth. She glanced over at Max making coffee, feeling that the whole evening was turning into something surreal. Even the specially designed coffee unit seemed like something out of the space-age.

In the bathroom, she found neatly pressed navy joggers and a white t-shirt placed on a glass cabinet. Plonking herself on the toilet seat, she drew the clothes up to her nose. She sensed a wonderful waft of a fresh linen fragrance and her lips spontaneously turned up into a grin. The only way she could describe it was feeling a kind of giddiness. Thrill, anticipation, joy. Emotions that she hadn't felt in years. Her only serious boyfriend had been Blake, whom she had dated at 16. She had been totally obsessed with him for two years until she found out he was seeing an ex-girlfriend behind her back. It had left her broken-hearted, devastated that life could deal out crap like that. Then move forward a year or so, with the death of her Father, the only man she could depend on, and then the 'stalking incident', a deeper cynicism had entered her heart. She threw herself into her career, becoming detached of sentiment and wary of men, determined to avoid pain. Yet here she was, sitting in this stranger's apartment and she was getting butterflies.

Pessimism suddenly set in. He was clearly a successful, self-assured man of experience and maturity. Possibly around 27 years old. So why would he be interested in a 21 year old beautician? Especially one with issues that would have even a psychiatrist scratching their head.

With her mood turning slightly more sombre, she peeled off her damp clothes, and got dressed. The legs on the joggers were around 6 inches too long and she twisted over the waistband a couple of times. She glanced in the long mirror and her swamped reflection looked back at her. Great. From windswept to frumpy. Fat chance of knocking him dead today then.

She walked out of the bathroom, her uniform rolled up in her hands. Max did a double-take as he finished pouring out her coffee.

"I can see your head so I'm assuming your body is in there somewhere," he said as he tugged at the hem of her baggy top.

"I do look like I've just won 'Slimmer of the Year', don't I?"

His lip curled in amusement, "Here, take your coffee."

Georgia duly took it, her fingers curling around the wonderful heat radiating from the mug. She stood rigid on the spot, not from anxiety any longer, but from acknowledgement of her rising physical attraction to him. She noticed he had also changed into dry clothes, an outfit that showed style without the tag of fashion victim. Dressed in a burgundy hoody and slouch jeans, he looked too cool to be a poker player. Weren't most of them pasty, pot-bellied chain-smokers? Surely he knew she was drawn to him, tall and tanned was every girl's type, so there was no chance he couldn't know. Georgia felt a little insignificant in the circumstances, no different to all the other women who must swoon at his feet on a daily basis.

"Take a seat scaredy cat," ordered Max, pointing towards the tan, leather sofa.

Georgia sat down, her back upright and stiff, while Max sat on a chair and pulled up it's handle to recline back, their body language still glaringly off-kilter.

"This place is very minimalist," she said, surveying the room and sinking her feet into the deep-pile rug beneath her.

There was a built-in shelving unit filled with books and a couple pieces of rustic art, two driftwood table lamps on organic bamboo coffee-tables, and a 52" T.V was placed high in front of her. The central focus of the room however, was the oblong, hole-in-the-wall fireplace situated to the left. To complete the décor, three canvas beachside images adorned the other walls.

"Less clutter, less dusting," he announced, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"I can't picture you with a feather duster in your hand," she teased.

Max smiled softly, "Ok, well less dusting for Diana then. She cleans for me twice a week, and takes Red for a walk when I'm not around. She's great, more like a P.A. than a cleaner."

Their gentle small-talk was interrupted by the phone ringing and Max stood up to answer it.

"Georgia, it's your Mum," he said, passing the handset to her.

Georgia grimaced. Hearing a man answer the phone would most certainly unnerve her Mum and she dreaded taking the call.

" _Hey Mum. Oh, that was the ladies husband. Well, I didn't think I'd have to explain that the lady was married, Mum. Yes Mum, stop worrying, I'm fine. The taxi will be here in about ten minutes. Love you. Bye."_

"Damn caller-identity," Georgia muttered. "More trouble than it's worth."

She hated that she was coming across as this molly-coddled little girl who couldn't move without her Mum checking up on her. If Max was unsure of her before, that phone-call would have definitely made up his mind that she was immature and helpless. "Sorry about that, it's better if I bend the truth a little."

Max took the handset back from her, "No need to explain. You do what you have to do to make life easier."

Georgia was pleased that he wasn't there to judge her, like most of her friends who teased her, told her to rebel against her upbringing. She battled in her head of how she could respect her Mum's wishes but still live her own life at the same time. She knew she had allowed her Mum's fear of the world to seep into her own psyche and resentment had started to build.

"So what do you love most about being a beautician?"

"Oh without a doubt, I would say waxing a man's back," she replied, without a hint of satire. "I'm talking long, thick hair, you know, like an ape. The sound of hair-roots being ripped out is weirdly rewarding," she said, immersing herself in the detailed description.

Max sniggered, finding her dead-pan reply amusing and unexpected, "You're rather unique aren't you?"

"Not really," she said shrugging her shoulders, "ask any therapist and most of them would answer the same."

"No, I mean unique in the way that you've no airs and graces. Don't beauticians have a reputation for being haughty and superficial?"

"No more than poker players have for being shifty and immoral."

"Touché," he said.

Max's expression was one that suggested he didn't quite know what to make of her, which happened to make her more appealing if anything. "Anyway, and don't answer if you don't want to, but what's the deal with two names?"

"Ah," she said, "I wondered when that would come up. It's silly really. It started couple years ago when I was speaking to a friend at the college library. When I left, this stranger pretended that he knew me and asked my friend to confirm my name. He started sending sinister death threats to me and my friends through Facebook, he knew where I lived and he said he was spying on me. I eventually broke down and told Mum and she was so angry that I hadn't told her, but I just said I didn't want to stress her out so soon after Dad dying. Anyway, she called the police and he was cautioned and expelled from college. So, in a nutshell, the name change is just a precaution."

"Hell yeah, that is a pretty good reason. I'm shocked you even said hello to me."

"I might be wary, but I'm not rude, and as you noticed I can sometimes slip up if I'm taken off-guard," said Georgia.

"So who was the guy?"

"His name was Michael Cope, studying I.T. at the college," she replied, taking a swig of her coffee. Max noticed her demeanour change as she spoke his name. It had clearly shaken her and the trauma still simmered in her eyes.

"But I've been determined not to let him ruin my life," she said, keen to mask her feelings of inadequacy with strength, which she was sure that Max would find far more appealing.

"I agree. Maybe you could start from today then?" remarked Max casually, as he took his attention off her and bent down to rough-house with Red.

Georgia had to accept her act of confidence was dire, he was more perceptible than she'd given him credit for. It was really weird to say, but this night had already brought her the most impressive progress she'd had in years. She was sitting in an attractive man's apartment, relaxing with a coffee, and discussing her ordeal, yeh, this was definitely progress for her.
CHAPTER TWO

Georgia had boarded the taxi home five minutes later, feeling a smidgen disappointed that Max hadn't suggested they keep in touch. Her parting words were to thank him for not being a serial killer, and his had been that it was his pleasure. She could assume that he found her too young, maybe not distinguished or pretty enough. Had she only imagined the connection she felt was there? Just because one person feels it, it doesn't automatically mean the other feels it too.

She sat silently as the taxi carried her through the rainy streets and puddles of Camden, recollections of their brief encounter drifting through her mind, from when Max had first grasped her arm to when she had waved at him from the taxi. She could almost sense her heart sigh, a sigh of missed opportunities. She had been there a mere 35 minutes, therefore it could not explain how dramatically her emotions had been stirred. Max was unlike any man she had met, he had a cool, mature charisma that commanded attention.

Unfortunately, her first boyfriend Blake had made her doubt her own appeal, he'd smeared her view on most men, as first love's often do. She now thought men were self-gratifying, dishonest bastards with an inability to remain faithful. Max would have most likely turned out the same anyway, given time. This was reason enough to appease Georgia and by the end of her journey, she had turned Max into such an unscrupulous playboy that she was jolly well pleased they hadn't exchanged numbers.

~~~~~~~~~~

Her mother's face peered expectantly through the window as the taxi pulled up outside the house. She had been so uptight in the last couple years and the strain had started to show, grief etched into her forehead and pinching at the sides of her mouth. Georgia recalled a time when her Mum was always laughing, and had encouraged her to live life to the fullest. Now she just alerted her to everything wrong in the world. She would lecture her constantly about the evils of alcohol, always asking for updates on her whereabouts, and as for boyfriends, well, she daren't introduce any guy to her, be it friend or suitor. A male friend she had brought home last year, never called her again after he was interrogated. Amongst other questions, he was asked why his parents had got divorced, how he had been affected by it, and what his intentions were towards her daughter. Georgia figured her Mother knew that this would scare him away and she even had the audacity to use it as justification. "He couldn't have liked you that much if he was put-off by a few questions," she had remarked in her 'mother-knows-best' tone of voice. Georgia would cringe each time she remembered that day, seeing the poor boys look of horror as he sat squirming on a chair. Her Mum just couldn't believe that boys and girls could just be friends so Georgia had tried to be more discreet of her private life ever since. She'd had a few dates over the last couple years but at the first suggestion of sexual or emotional intimacy, she had ended it. 'Self-preservation' her friends had called it.

"Hello darling," beamed her Mother as she squeezed her tight. "It was awful thinking you were out somewhere in this shocking weather."

"I know, I've never seen anything like it. Of all the days to forget my phone too."

"What the hell are you wearing?" her mother asked, screwing up her face in astonishment.

"It was clothes I borrowed. The woman said I could keep them because she never wore them anyway," replied Georgia, turning her back on her mother to pour herself a juice from the fridge.

"Tall and butch was she, this lady?" said her Mother, blatantly questioning her daughter's story.

Georgia sniggered nervously. "Yes she was actually. Where's Nathe anyway?" she asked, effortlessly changing the topic.

"He's upstairs in the playroom. Go check on him will you."

Nathan was Georgia's five year old brother, an adorable little boy who was extremely creative, boisterous and sensitive. With a sixteen year gap between them, he had been an unplanned child but a most welcome one, bringing their Father a new lease of life and the son he had always wished for. He would roll about the floor with him, help build his numerous lego sets and make him howl with his T-Rex impersonation. Mrs Greene had struggled with bringing up a toddler on her own but she was determined to keep family life as normal as possible. Since her husband's death, she had taken up a part-time job as a receptionist at a local swimming pool, mostly to busy herself. Now her only goal in life was to keep her children warm, fed, and safe. In private, she cried almost every night with grief over losing her one and only true love, a man who would call the local radio station on their anniversary each year, to dedicate a different love-song to her. Every year, for 21 years, without fail. It was as if her whole world had been sucked of any joy since his passing.

"Hey Champ, big sister is home!" Georgia yelled, mounting the stairs.

"Yey!" he cried back, dropping his paintbrush on the plastic sheet beneath him.

Georgia knelt down on the landing to hug him. "What are you up to sweetie? I'm guessing from all those red spots on your face that you've either got measles or you're being artistic."

"No silly, I'm painting."

"That's what artistic means. It means you're creating a work of art."

"Oh yes, then look at my art!" he grinned, pulling at Georgia's hand to drag her towards the easel.

"Wow Nathe, you've done a real good job there. Tell me what's going on," she said, exaggerating her excitement.

"That's you dancing all crazy, to the music on the radio. Daddy is in a spaceship because he's travelling between the moon and the stars. I'm superman flying up to meet him and then there's Mummy standing by the swimming pool."

Georgia recalled how one night she had told Nathan that their Father was now the brightest star in the sky. The young boy had then interpreted this into his own story. He would often tell people that his Dad was an astronaut, and therefore could never be at home. However, it was the downward mouth that Nathan had given to his Mum that really bothered Georgia.

"Why is Mummy looking sad?"

"Erm, well she doesn't smile much does she?" he mumbled, his matter-of-factness breaking Georgia's heart.

"She does sometimes. Maybe you just miss it when she does. I bet she'd smile when she sees this. Come on let's show her."

Nathan sped ahead downstairs clutching his picture.

"Look Mummy, this is for you!"

Mrs Greene took the paper off him and studied it under the light. "Hmm, that's very good Nathan. And where are you sweetie?" she asked, at which point the little boy poked at the sheet.

"Oh I am sorry. I couldn't tell it was you because you don't have blue hair."

Georgia decided to intervene and discreetly signed to her Mum to make a smile. "But he's very clever to draw all of us though isn't he Mum?"

Mrs Greene recognised what was expected of her and upturned her mouth immediately. "Oh yes, he's very clever. I think it's your best work yet Nathan," she grinned.

When Nathan beamed at Georgia, she cast him an affectionate wink, it's poignant connotation being shared only between the two of them.

"Now sweetie, you've got ten minutes to tidy up because your tea will be served soon," said Mrs Greene as Nathan raced back upstairs.

Georgia opened the draw to pull out some cutlery. "How was your day anyway?"

"Busy. We're still getting everything organised for the sponsored swim at the weekend."

"Has it had a good response?"

"Amazing. I think we've already raised £700 towards the Bright charity. Are you still planning to do the half marathon this year?"

"I'm not sure if I can now, the client-base at the salon is growing so fast that I know Melanie will ask me to do more and more hours. It's going to make training so much harder and I haven't been to the gym in months."

"Melanie puts so much on you, and I know you enjoy it but don't let her take advantage of you."

"She doesn't take advantage of me Mum, she asks because she knows I want to make the cash," she said in defence, while at the same time acknowledging that a seed of truth lay in her Mum's appraisal.

Georgia was almost running the salon and yet her salary didn't reflect the responsibilities she was given. She clung on to the dream that in a few years, she could set up her own business. She already had the name prepared, 'De Novo'. It meant 'afresh' and Georgia hoped that it's auspicious name would signify the start of a new beginning for her. It would mean having something of her own, which she could control and do with as she pleased. A notion that wasn't at all possible if her life continued on it's current path. She felt as if she was always under the control of other people and she was desperate to break free.

Suddenly Nathan came racing into the kitchen, grinning broadly and looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Oh my God Nathe, what have you done to your hair?" cried his Mum, dumping down the plates she was holding, loudly on the table.

"Now I look like me in the painting?" he said with touching innocence.

"You've painted your hair blue Nathan!"

Nathan's grin slowly slipped as he noticed the anger on his mother's face. "Yes I know but now it looks like me, see," he muttered quietly, pointing at himself in the picture once again.

"Nathan, that's very naughty, you know your tea is ready and you go do that. You shouldn't...."

Her rant was swiftly interrupted by Georgia.

"Mum, lighten up," she began, through gritted teeth, "the paint is washable so it isn't a problem, and it was you that pointed out his hair colour. It's kinda funny really."

Georgia walked over to her little brother and lovingly ruffled his hair between her fingers, smearing them with paint.

Her mother huffed deeply and then sniggered. "I suppose it is," she smiled and then she began to titter a little more. She picked up Nathan in her arms and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm sorry darling, it was a clever idea but I would prefer if you kept the paint on the paper, ok."

"Yes Mummy, I will," he said, returning her kiss and staining her cheeks with streaks of blue.

Georgia began to chuckle, which then started Nathan off and very soon the whole kitchen was full of laughter, even from their Mother. It was as if a delightful melody was being played once again in the house, a melody that hadn't been heard in a very long while.

"Mum, put the stew on low and we'll get this scamp cleaned up in the bathroom."

"Ok don't be long, and brush your teeth while you're up there Nathan," she ordered.

"Nooo. A bath and clean my teeth," he groaned as his big sister led him upstairs, "you're trying to turn me into a girl!"

Georgia laughed even harder than before.

At bedtime, Georgia finally removed her clothes, or rather Max's. She inhaled the familiar scent of the t-shirt for one final time, the fresh-linen fragrance once again delicately teasing her senses, before she folded the items neatly and placed them in her bottom draw. Just a little memento she thought to herself. "No regrets, it wasn't meant to be," her protective-self whispered, albeit a little wistfully.
CHAPTER THREE

By a week or so later, Georgia's thoughts of those precious minutes spent with Max were beginning to subside, not in intensity, just in recurrence. She did contemplate knocking on his front door, with a smile to say, 'Hi, remember me? I believe you stole my heart when I was last here.' Then of course, he would sweep her up into his arms and tell her that he hadn't stopped thinking about her either. The 'happy-ever-after' would then ensue. But that only happened in the movies, where a girl with moxie was seen as both quirky and adorable. In real-life, girls like that were seen as desperate.

Right now she was grateful for a job that required concentration and a cheerful temperament; it was far harder to brood over personal issues when your client-requests depended on how personable you were.

"Ok Tiffany, your appointment has been booked for four weeks Tuesday. Here's a card reminder."

Georgia smiled warmly at the client she had been treating for a year, a client who she found obnoxious but whom she skilfully managed to remain gracious to at all times. Tiffany believed Georgia adored her, and in that respect Georgia was a virtuoso in her profession. She knew that by being overly sweet to the difficult clients, who had most likely been cold-shouldered at other salons, she would be able to secure their loyal alliance. The Beauty business was 50% treatment, 50% customer service and Georgia was savvy enough to recognise this.

She had been working at 'Grace Beauty' for three years but she had big plans, plans that included running her own salon within three years. She had been saving like crazy, working all shifts thrown at her and attending any business seminars that seemed appropriate. She hated the thought of being under the control of another person for the rest of her life, and right now she was getting it from all sides, both at work from her manager, and at home. When would people start realising she had her own opinions, opinions she took on from choice, not from force?

Phoebe, Georgia's closest friend and work colleague, glanced at Georgia, screwing up her face with disdain. "I do not like that woman," she growled as soon as Tiffany had exited the door. "She's so up herself. When I did her a pedicure last week, I swear she had cloven hooves."

Adele, the salon junior, giggled at Phoebe's dry delivery. "What hooves?"

Georgia shook her head. "She means devil's feet. Ignore her Adele, she's just in a bad mood because Mikey wasn't working at the coffee shop today."

Phoebe sighed lustfully. "I missed his chocolate sprinkle."

"She thinks he sprinkled the shape of a heart in her coffee last week," Georgia said.

"He did! Anyway that's beside the point, I still think you're a saint to tolerate the snooty cow."

"Business head on from ten till six Pheebs, remember that. If it takes a smile to line my pocket then that's what they'll get."

"I guess so, but I know something that works even better on the male clients," smiled Phoebe, and she began to playfully unzip her tunic, revealing just a glimpse of cleavage. "I find that my tips are in direct proportion to how low I pull this."

Georgia nodded. "Well, there is a theory that the main biological function of breasts is to make men stupid," she said.

The giggles from her friends came to a sudden halt and Phoebe swiftly zipped herself up. She raised her eyebrows at something over Georgia's shoulder and Georgia swung around on her toes to be presented with a meticulously tailored man, watching her with a barely-there smirk.

A flush rose rapidly across Georgia's cheeks. "Max. What are you doing here?"

Max just stood there and shrugged his shoulders, drawing apart his coat with his pocketed hands. "Curiosity. I just wondered why you didn't reply to the message I left you."

There was a pause in her reply as her eyes soaked up the raw handsomeness of the man before her, and she tried to swallow back the heart that had jumped into her throat. The piercing grey-blue of his eyes had a steeliness softened by a twinkle of mischief and a border of long, dense lashes. They were a striking contrast to his hair that seemed even inkier black than she remembered, and his masculine silhouette was enhanced further by a trace of stubble.

"Message, what message?"

"I left it with your Mum a few days ago."

Georgia seethed silently. "I'm so sorry, I didn't get any message. How did you get my number anyway?"

"The same way your Mum got mine. Damn caller-identity," he smirked, quoting Georgia word for word.

"Well maybe it's not so bad after all," she said, smiling back at him.

Fortunately the elation she was feeling overpowered any resentment she might have towards her mother. She loved that he had coming looking for her, had not just given up at the first hurdle, it was her idea of old-fashioned romance and she was a sucker for it.

"Well now, what can I do for you?" she asked, approaching him at the desk.

"I wondered if I could take you for a bite to eat after work?"

"I'd love to but I can't go out in my uniform. I'd feel like a tramp."

"You can either keep the uniform on or I'll bring you some sports clothes to wear again," Max threatened, "Your choice."

Georgia knew she was defeated, "Ok, you'll just have to take me somewhere quiet then, where I won't embarrass you."

"If I ever take you to a quiet place, it won't be because of embarrassment," he whispered with a wry smile, leaning in closer over the desk.

Georgia detected just a hint of naughtiness in his eyes, a glint that was playful enough to not be too intimidating. With that one look, he could persuade anyone to do anything.

She cleared her throat and flashed him a disapproving smirk, trying hard to display resistance to his charms. It was never wise to let any man know that he could seduce a woman so easily. Despite the fact that she went into free-fall whenever she was around him.

"You Sir are being cheeky. I finish at 5.30pm tonight so I will see you then."

"Great, I'll pick you up outside," he said, tapping the desk to close the deal. "I'll let you get back to slating men. See you later." Then he disappeared through the doorway.

Phoebe and Adele stood open-mouthed, looking like a pair of country bumpkins. Georgia spun around to face them and threw her hands up to her mouth.

"Shit! My legs feel like jelly for fuck's sake!" she mouthed, profanities dripping from her tongue as they often did when she was feeling excitable.

"Goddamn, that man is fine!" said Phoebe in a southern drawl. "You said he was gorgeous, you didn't say he was finger-lickin' gorgeous!"

"Wow Georgie, he's hotter than Ryan Gosling on a hot day," added Adele.

"Really? You think so?" asked Georgia, in that way that all girls ask, knowing very well that he was all that and more. She enjoyed hearing it confirmed nonetheless. "How did he find me though? He didn't know my surname or where I worked."

"You're right, tracking down a girl called 'Georgia' from a list of six salons in town must have needed some serious detective work," replied Phoebe sarcastically.

"How romantic, you lucky girl," said Adele, giving Georgia a big hug, pleased to see her looking so happy. Adele looked up to Georgia like a big sister, with a dollop of admiration and a pinch of envy, even joking that she wanted to be her when she grew up.

For the next two hours, even Georgia's butterflies had butterflies. Her eyes would regularly glance over to the clock, trying to push the big hand around faster with her mind; that is until she accidentally used surgical spirit on a client's face instead of toner. Thinking on her feet, she passed it off as an extra strong astringent when the client complained of the overpowering smell. It was her wake-up call to concentrate on the present, rather than playing out an imaginary rom-com in her mind, with Max in the starring role.

"It looks like your column is empty for the last 50 minutes. You may as well use the shower and freshen up before your big date," suggested Phoebe, scanning her eyes over the salon bookings.

"If you're sure that's OK," replied Georgia, "I would feel a helluva lot better after a quick wash."

"No problem, it's quiet tonight anyway. You can't blame them in this sunny weather. Why have a spray-tan with us when you can get one for real outside?"

Georgia nodded in agreement and disappeared into the showers, installed for their sun-bed clientele. She emerged 15 minutes later into her treatment room, and sitting down at the large, wall-mirrors, she began rummaging through her cosmetic case. Working in a salon was ideal for spontaneous nights out like this, a girl had everything on hand to take her from day to evening.

She had delayed calling her Mum until fifteen minutes before closing time, mostly because she had needed the time to curb her aggravation.

' _This will be interesting'_ , she simmered, as she punched in her home phone number.

"Hey Mum, I'll be home late tonight. I'm not sure what time because my friend Max is taking me out for something to eat."

"Max?"

"You know Max, the man who left you a message to give to me."

Silence filled the air and Georgia had no intention of filling it.

"Oh yes, I remember now, sorry sweetie. It completely slipped my mind. Okay, well, I've made you chilli tonight, and red velvet cup-cakes."

Georgia's mouth instinctively watered. She was beginning to wonder whether her Mum always made the most delicious food to subtly control her, an attempt to lure her back home every night. Admittedly, it had worked for most of three years but then again, there had been no man worthy to compete with it before.

"Not to worry Mum, put it in the fridge and I'll eat it tomorrow."

Her Mother paused for a second, realising that her cooking wasn't going to be the best offer on the table tonight. "Ok dear, enjoy your night and look after yourself. Please. Don't forget your phone will you?"

"No Mum, I'll have it with me, so any emergency, just call."

"Ok, and remember you have work tomorrow."

"No I don't Mum, it's Sunday tomorrow," she remarked, biting her lip and rolling her eyes.

"Is it? Oh yes, gosh where are the days going?"

Her Mum's voice sounded soft and weary, preventing Georgia from expressing greater impatience with her. "I have to go Mum, love you."

As she ended the call, Phoebe arrived beside her, passing her a fragrance and bright red lip-gloss from her handbag. "This is kick-ass red, and it will blow his socks off, trust me. Now you finish off your final touches and I'll get everything ready to lock up."

Georgia went to object but before she had chance, Phoebe jumped in. "Go. Go It doesn't take two of us."

She disappeared into the toilets and applied the lip-gloss, almost missing her lip-line when her fingers began to tremble. This was her first date in months, and the more she said it in her head, the more nauseous she felt. This wasn't just going to be casual chatter like their first meet, this was when both parties had admitted an attraction for each other. This date had to go well, it was imperative that she was his perfect woman, and she had just one chance to make a lasting impression. She continued to mentally torment herself until Phoebe barged in through the door.

"Georgia, he's here, waiting outside for you!"

"Oh shit, Pheebs, I don't think I can do this," she whined, grasping Phoebe's arms.

"What the hell? Don't make me slap some sense into you Georgie," Phoebe threatened.

"I like him too much, I'll just fuck it up and he won't want to see me again."

Phoebe had never looked so furious, or confused. "That is the craziest thing I've ever heard. You're refusing to see him yet you're scared of never seeing him again? Get your skinny-ass out of here before I kick it out."

"But he's rich, and he's hotter than the sun, and he's a proper adult. That's never been my type has it?" argued Georgia.

"Oh yeuch, he sounds like scum," sneered Phoebe. "Because your stalker and two-timing-ex were definitely more of a catch weren't they," she added, with increasing ridicule.

She began to jostle Georgia towards the door, ignoring her protests. The girls were still battling each other as they exited the toilets, where Max was standing in the main reception, clearly amused by their bickering. On realising his presence, the girls silenced themselves. Phoebe muttered a quick 'Hi' and darted into the rest-room, while Georgia grinned at him sheepishly.

He looked so dapper; beige skinny chinos and a khaki sport jacket had never been worn so well on his tall, athletic figure. With sunglasses perched upon his head, he looked like he'd just flown in from New York, and Georgia now felt even more lacklustre in comparison. Was it too late to make her apologies and escape through the back-door?

"Hey Max, I'm ready to go," she said, silently pleading for a reasonable excuse to decline the invite.

"Then why does it feel like I really am kidnapping you this time?" he smirked.

It really was too late now, now that she had glimpsed his tilted smile again. How could anyone turn it down? It was fast becoming her Achilles heel.

"Oh, sorry, yes, that was just Phoebe being a knob, I really am ready, honestly," she stuttered. Phoebe poked her head around the door, and unseen by Max, she stuck out her tongue. She would let that slur go this time, but only because it was made in unique circumstances, and by a very dear friend.

Max ushered Georgia outside into the glorious sunlight; it seemed like the late summer was here to stay for a while. She was admiring a black Audi R8 parked ahead of them when she heard the beep of his key-remote. She did her best to look un-phased, when in reality she wanted to gasp. Then Max courteously opened the door for her. Would he remain as perfect in reality as he had been in her fantasy? It would take until the end of the night before Georgia would receive her answer.
CHAPTER FOUR

As they drove towards their destination, Max's curiosity got the better of him. "So why the reluctance to come out the bathroom back then?"

A sheepish look returned to Georgia's face. "I hate first dates with a passion. They make me nervous. Nothing personal."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, cause if you think about it, this is more like our second date anyway."

"How's that?" Georgia asked, looking puzzled.

"The first time we met, you came to my house, had a coffee, we chatted about personal stuff, and you took your clothes off. Sounds like a first date to me."

Georgia sniggered. "Not any first dates I've been on."

"Oh, so I might get lucky on the second then? It doesn't usually take me that long."

"I can so believe that," she said, her nerves beginning to ease a little. "Anyway, I hope whatever you had in mind tastes better than my mama's velvet cup-cakes. They take some beating, let me tell you."

"Cup-cakes always do, it's what makes them light and fluffy," he said effeminately, miming a whisk in his hand.

Georgia liked his humour, it was dry and a little silly.

"So tell me what sort of food you like?" he asked, stroking her leg tenderly.

It was the first bodily contact, Max had initiated and she couldn't believe the effect it had on her. She willed his hand to rise under her tunic, to mount and caress her thigh. Instead, he pulled back to switch his window all the way down. The cool breeze blew gently around the vehicle, and as it pushed out the stifling heat, she hoped it would also quell her own fervour.

"I like almost everything, except German food. The names alone are enough to put you off, dishes like sauerkraut or bratwurst. How is that appetising?"

"Well you'll be pleased it's not German, it's French and if you don't mind heights as well, you'll enjoy it," said Max glancing at her.

"I love French food, but what do you mean by heights? Is it lunch on a helicopter?"

"Nope."

"A picnic on the French Alps?"

"Wow, really? On a first date? What romance novels have you been reading?" he asked, casting a surprised look.

Georgia tittered, "I give up then."

"It's a great restaurant I often dine at, with friends and associates. You look beautiful by the way. I can't take my eyes off your lips."

"Oh thank-you. I wear red a lot," she said, hoping to imply that she hadn't made any special effort for him.

Max paused to turn on the music system, "I wasn't talking about the colour."

"Oh," she said smirking and she turned her face to look out of the window. She was indeed blessed with a plump, full pout, passed down from Nana Binky, and it often drew looks of envy from her friends, and accusations of 'lip-injections' from jealous acquaintances.

The car headed towards Park Lane, Mayfair and finally came to a stop. When Georgia opened her door, her eyes followed up the side of the soaring building standing in front of them.

"This is the London Hilton Hotel," remarked Georgia, sounding both startled and dismayed. Her first time at such a spectacular location, and she felt under-dressed to say the least.

"Max, this is so unfair. I'm in my uniform," she groaned.

He paused for a moment, "Look, I don't care one bit how you're dressed, but I know it's important for a woman to feel the part. So, I picked this up for you earlier."

He opened the car-door and pulled out a white dress, hanging up in the back.

Georgia's jaw dropped, "Oh my God. A Chloe dress!"

"Look, you don't have to wear it, if you don't...."

Before Max could finish his sentence, Georgia had grabbed it from his hands and was holding it up against her slender figure. "No, it's fine. I'll put it on. It's gorgeous, thank-you," she grinned.

"Will you put it on in the bathroom?"

"No, on the back-seat is fine. It will only take a moment," she insisted, not wishing to delay making a memorable entrance into the hotel.

"OK, whatever you say." He really did enjoy observing that, try as she might, her artlessness always found a way to reveal itself.

She shuffled around in the back, with Max averting his eyes in gentlemanly form when she pulled apart her tunic dress. Then he suddenly swiped off his sunglasses and began to breathe on them. "Damn, these glasses get so smudgy."

"Hey!" shrieked Georgia, after noticing him angling them strategically, "Are you using those as a mirror?"

Max's reaction was to chuckle like a naughty schoolboy. "No. They just needed a clean, that's all," he replied, and proceeded to polish them with the inside of his jacket.

"Don't lie, I can see you looking!"

"You cannot undress so publicly and not expect every red-blooded male to peek, that's insane. Although, if I do catch any other man gawping, I'll poke his eyes out," he added sedately, scouring the car-park for any snoopers.

Georgia was suddenly beginning to feel liberated, as if her libido had been unleashed after months of imprisonment. She liked being this sexual minx, she should probably invite her out more, especially knowing how easily her minx could engage the beast in Max.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to ask me for a date tomorrow instead? Then I could have been prepared with a dress of my own," she asserted, slipping her legs into the lace-overlay tennis dress.

"I've already waited long enough," he retorted brusquely.

She grinned, finding his boyish impatience thoroughly endearing, "Can you zip me up please?"

He was now standing so close, she sensed a tingle nipping at the back of her neck. While his fingers began scaling her back, his musky cologne drifted by on a breeze, and she closed her eyes momentarily in reverie, only snapping out of it when she thought her knees would buckle.

"Beautiful," he said, his eyes sweeping over her in approval, "I've got great taste, haven't I?"

"You definitely have an eye for fashion, thank-you."

"I wasn't talking about the dress," he said, and then he grabbed her hand to escort her proudly through the hotel entrance. Georgia took several furtive side-ward glances at him, with a subtle smile that just wouldn't wipe off. She had never felt so esteemed before, taken charge of by this statuesque Alpha male, in fact right now, she didn't just feel like a princess, she felt like a Queen. He made her feel like a Queen.

~~~~~~~~~~

Floor 28 was where the lift came to a halt and the doors pinged open. To the right, she saw the open entrance headed with 'Galvin at Windows Restaurant and Bar.' There they were met by the pleasant, indistinct chatter from hundreds of diners, soothing in it's sound, in a glamorous and elegant interior, reminiscent of the Golden Age of 1930's. A waiter immediately approached them and on recognising Max, he greeted him by name and ushered them to his favourite table. Georgia followed behind in awe, absorbed by the 360 degree birds-eye view of the city.

After being personally seated by 'Pierre', Georgia looked over at Max and grinned, not unlike a child's grin when visiting 'Disneyland' for the first time. Two hours earlier, she had been smearing hot wax on a client's bikini line, and now she was looking over the beautiful landscape of London with all it's stunning and iconic landmarks. She couldn't quite take it in. This kind of thing didn't happen to 21year old beauticians.

"Views seem all the more dazzling from afar, don't they?" she remarked.

Max coupled his smirk with a wink, "Whereas you become more ravishing the closer I get."

"Oh behave Max," she said smiling coyly, having never grown accustomed to forthright flattery. "What I mean is you can't see the decay of the city from a distance. It looks mystical and magical."

"Hmm, plus one gets to feel like God for a short while, you know, the almighty looking down on his empire," he joked. "So, tell me what you would like to drink. How about we start with a glass of champagne?"

Georgia picked up the drinks menu, her eyes browsing the selection. "You pick, I trust your choice."

"Then it's our old friend Moet then," said Max and beckoned over the waiter.

"Would Sir and Madam like to order their food now or will you need a few more minutes?" he asked in a delightful French accent.

After considering the menu and Pierre's recommendations, Georgia opted for the pan-roasted stone bass and spiced apple soufflé for dessert. Within three minutes, the chilled champagne bucket was served at their table with a gracious smile.

While the waiter poured their drinks, Georgia's eyes wandered over the scenery again. "Wow, that's Buckingham Palace over there isn't it?"

"Yep, and over there is Hyde Park, and over there is the 'The Shard'," said Max directing her sight with his finger.

"How long have you been coming here? The staff seem to know you pretty well," Georgia observed, taking a sip of her champagne.

"A couple of years now. A few of us got to know the Galvin brothers when they catered for an opening night at one of the local casinos. They've got a chain of restaurants, all serving French cuisine, but this is my favourite."

"And now I'm going to ask how many other girlfriends you've brought here?" said Georgia, arching a brow.

"That's rather presumptuous. How about asking whether I've a brought a woman here?"

"Have you brought any women here?"

"Actually, the answer's still no."

"Really? Where did you take them then?"

"Actually, in the last two years, there have been no women to take anywhere."

"Oh. Sorry, I just assumed you would have been seeing someone."

Inside, she was secretly thrilled to hear his answer. Thinking ahead, maybe too far ahead, she felt more comfortable knowing that there seemed to be no recent ex, tempting him back into a relationship. She knew better than anyone the heartache caused when a man couldn't let go of a former flame, when Blake had cheated on her.

"Assumed that a man always has to be tapping a girl you mean? Sometimes personal issues take precedence over relationships."

"So you mean your career came first?" enquired Georgia, hoping his answer would give her an insight into his life.

She would happily spend all night peeling away his layers, until she reached his bare bones. He was turning out to be quite the unconventional man. Her male friends were always in relationships, not out of love, just desperate not to be alone, and Georgia had always thought that to be rather cowardly. The fact that Max didn't date just for the hell of it engaged her even more.

"It was a case of getting my brother out of the shit to be honest."

"Your brother couldn't have taken up that much time, surely?" she asked, pushing for him to elaborate.

"Not him alone. It was the drug-dealers and criminal charges that monopolised most of it."

"Jeez, was it that serious?" she asked, leaning forwards to rest her chin on the back of her hand.

Max took a long swig from his champagne flute. "For a long time his life centred around cocaine use and petty crime. He stole from our parents, and they were threatened by drug-dealers. The turning point was when one of them held a gun to my head and demanded £15,000 to pay off his debts. So I paid it and Stephen went into re-hab for three months after that."

She was taken aback by his frankness, never imagining from his urbane demeanour that he'd be involved in anything criminal. Her stalker tale now seemed paltry in comparison.

"Wow, that is some story. Is everything settled with him now?"

Max smirked, as if in relief and then folded his arms on the table. "It has been for the last five months. He's got a proper job and got engaged to his long-term girlfriend, Cassie, a couple weeks ago actually. There's still a lot of tension between us; it's hard to forgive when I know that he was the cause of Dad's heart-attack, but I'm sure things will get easier the longer he keeps his nose clean. And Cassie is a doll, a bit clingy sometimes but she's been a good influence, settling him into a normal life."

"I think he's very fortunate that you still speak to him, you've been far more supportive than is expected off any brother."

"Maybe it was pay-back for taunting him so much when we were kids," Max said with a twinkle in his eye. It seemed apparent that he didn't want Georgia to think his brother was all bad. "This one summer's day, we had all gone straw-berry picking and Stephen came running up, as excited as anything, with this smug grin across his face. He showed me this huge strawberry, so huge he could hardly fit it into his little hand, and he said he couldn't wait to show it to Dad. So, being the horrible big brother that I was, I snatched it from him and put the whole thing in my mouth, leaf and all. Jeez, he went crazy, started screaming like a madman and punching me. I had to go without pudding for a week for that little stunt."

Georgia thought how lovely it was that Max still held fond memories of his brother. Memories are all anyone is left with if a relationship sours, so you may as well make the memories sweet, instead of yourself bitter.

"So tell me more about your family. Brothers? Sisters?" inquired Max.

"I also have a little brother Nathan, he's five. He's adorable, a real ray of sunshine. He helped me get through my Father's death better than my Mum actually. He made me laugh every day."

"Five? Wow, a sixteen year gap? You must have been a real handful if they waited that long before having another child?"

"Not at all, I was the exemplar daughter. I think they just waited until I was old enough to babysit," she said jokingly.

"Has it been difficult for him without your Dad?"

"He was only three when that happened, so I don't think he remembers much at all. I do worry about him growing up without a male role model though. I hope he never uses it as an excuse to take the wrong path later in life."

"He could get a positive male influence from anyone in his life you know, not just a Father. It could be a teacher, an Uncle,...maybe even his sister's boyfriend."

His words sent a thrilling flutter racing through her stomach; but what if he was just toying with her? She couldn't look the idiot by taking him seriously, as much as she wanted to cry, 'Yes, I would love that!' Instead, she simply smiled and switched her attention to the champagne again, taking a few more long sips, or gulps if you prefer. God, it tasted good; and when Max leant forwards to kiss her, she decided that champagne tasted even better on his lips. She was sitting on Cloud Nine and nothing would topple her off, even if she was feeling dizzy from all the fast-flowing bubbles.

She couldn't have guessed that the night was going to turn like the views they had from the restaurant; 360 degrees.
CHAPTER FIVE

"It's still early hours, would you like to come back to mine for coffee?" Max asked. "I think a strong, black one might be best," he remarked, clutching Georgia around the waist as she wobbled out the restaurant.

"Yes Max, that's a very good idea. I know a joke about coffee, you wanna hear it?" she slurred inanely.

"Okay, I'm listening. Make it a good one."

"Okay. You promise you won't laugh? No, hang on, I want you to laugh, don't I?" she cackled, shaking her head in confusion.

"Come on, let's hear it, and I promise to laugh."

Max continued to assist her balance as they exited the lifts, steadying her when she almost tripped over her own feet. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to talk,

"A man went to his Doctor and said, 'Every time I drink my coffee, I get a stabbing pain in my right eye', so the Doctor said, 'Well, have you tried taking the spoon out?'

Slapping Max on the chest, she shrieked with laughter, believing herself to be the funniest thing on two legs, two very shaky legs at that. Max did laugh, although it was more out of how much she had amused herself, rather than the joke itself. Once they had reached the car, he picked her up to place her on the passenger seat and buckled her in, since she had now become too weary to do it herself.

"Ah, thank-you, you've put my life-belt on for me. You're so sweet," she muttered as she stroked his face.

Max smirked at her muddled words, "Yes, I've put your life-belt on for you." Then taking a throw from the boot, he wrapped it around her just as she was closing her eyes. He took one last look at her soft, serene face, not quite believing how stunningly beautiful she was, even when she was sloshed. Her vulnerability and uncertainty screamed out, regardless of her efforts to keep them veiled.

Georgia only woke up once they were back in Max's apartment. She opened her eyes to see him kneeling down in front of her on the sofa, trying to coax her into taking a sip of coffee. Feeling a little more alert, she sat up and took the cup from him.

"I don't remember the journey here. How did I get up the stairs?"

"I carried you. You were fast asleep."

She took a sip of her drink. "Oh. Thank-you. How could you let me get so tipsy?"

"I did mention that you were drinking too quickly but you insisted you were fine. You moan that your Mum is always telling you what to do, so I thought I'd let you act responsibly."

"Oh Lord yes, my Mum. She is going to kill me," she laughed. "My Mum should get drunk every now and again. It feels soooo good," she trilled, throwing her hands in the air.

"Remind me to ask you that again in the morning?" muttered Max as he stood up, folded his arms and studied her from above.

"Come sit by me," she breathed, looking up at him from beneath her lashes and patting the seat beside her.

This was it. It was going to happen, he had made it perfectly clear. Men don't ask you to sleep over unless they're hoping to get their leg-over too. He wanted it, she wanted it, so why not? She couldn't remember ever feeling this uninhibited and lustful. It was Max's presence that had done it; he was just so goddam hot. And Lord knows she deserved sex after three years of celibacy.

Max dropped himself next to her and picked up the T.V. remote. "So what would you like, a thriller, horror, comedy?"

"I don't care. I won't be watching much anyway," she mumbled, getting up to straddle his lap. She began to plant soft kisses over his face and then moved to his mouth, where she teased apart his lips with her tongue, becoming more inflamed with every taste.

His kisses were sublime, and her arousal heightened as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Her hands drifted towards his crotch and she began to undo his fly-buttons, caressing the hardness growing beneath. Without warning, Max pulled away from her face.

"What's wrong?" she asked confused.

"We can't do this Georgia, not tonight. You're still drunk," whispered Max, injecting as much sensitivity as he could into his rejection.

Her head fell back and she let out an intoxicated snigger. "I'm not that drunk. I know what I'm doing," she argued, and ignoring his concerns, she continued to fumble around his groin, forcing her mouth back on to his.

This time Max was more emphatic and he grasped hold of both of her hands, an intense look in his eyes as he pulled away.

Georgia frowned and pouted her lips. "Didn't you just mention seeing me in the morning?"

"No, I meant I would call you in the morning. I want you to sober up now; you can't go back to your Mum like this."

Georgia had misread his words as a come-on, an invite to spend the night with him. Now she felt like a fool and his refusal stung deep. She shifted herself to slump beside him.

"What has my Mum got to do with this?" she exclaimed. "I don't give a damn what she'll say. I'm a woman, not a girl. And you're not my Father!" she affirmed, her tone seeping with anger.

Max was vexed, his jawline began to clench. "Georgia. Listen to me. I like you. I really like you, and if you were anyone else, I would have got into your pants back in the hotel."

Georgia screwed up her face in disbelief, "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she garbled, her reactions slow and sluggish.

Max turned to face her and forced her chin around towards him. "My point is that you're not just any girl."

Deaf to his sentiment, she remained indignant, "I want to go home."

His mild demeanour shifted into one more forceful and firm. "You can, and I'll take you, but you have to sober up first. You're not leaving my sight until you do."

His own concerns were of the consequences of her being inebriated back at home. She could choke on her own vomit, her Mum would most likely blame him for the state she was in and become more neurotic with her. After reconsideration, he wished he'd just taken the champagne off her in the restaurant.

"Please take me now. Or I'll call a taxi. I just don't want to be here."

Max ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Then he rose to his feet, with a need to make his point stern and explicit.

"For God's sake, grow up Georgia. You want the world to treat you as an adult and then you behave like this? You are not leaving here until you've sobered up," he ordered, as he pushed the coffee in front of her mouth. "Drink it."

His chiding simply incensed Georgia further. She knew he was never going to let her just storm out. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to dictate what she should and shouldn't do. Why was she always under someone else's direction?

She had an idea, one that would help her escape this shameful situation. "OK," she said, enunciating her reply. "I'll stay and let you take me home."

"Thank-you," he responded, kissing her forehead with relief.

"I need to visit the bath-room. My stomach feels weird," she mumbled. She took a gulp of her coffee, stood up and locked the door behind her.

"Call me if you need help," he shouted through the door.

Instead Georgia took the opportunity to call a taxi, happy to hear that one could reach her in ten minutes. She sat on the toilet-seat, holding her head in her hands. Her fairy-tale was over, and she wouldn't be living happy-ever-after. She closed her eyes but immediately opened them once she felt the room spinning. The floor seemed more comfortable, inviting even, and she slid downwards to the cold, limestone tiles. She stuffed her hand deep down into her handbag looking for a mirror and when it wasn't easily found, she emptied the contents out. Staring at the reflection of her expressionless face, she wanted to cry. The night had started off with such promise and now here she was slumped on a toilet floor, after being admonished by the man of her dreams.

Then her brain-fog suddenly dissipated, she cleared her throat, sat up straight and powdered her nose. She wasn't going to go home after all, she would meet Phoebe at the nightclub. She wanted some fun, a dance, maybe more drink, anything that would distract her thoughts from tonight.

Slinking out the bathroom five minutes later, she assumed a look of humbleness for Max's benefit. He had been sitting on the sofa, concerned about her mindset, and on seeing her appear, he set down his coffee on the floor.

"Are you Ok?"

Georgia nodded, "Hmm". Her phone bleeped with a text, notifying her that Fareway Taxis was waiting outside for her and she reacted swiftly.

"I think I'd like a shower, it might wake me up", she said yawning. "Would you mind fetching me some towels please?"

"Sure," he replied, rising up, "I'll get them now."

As soon as he disappeared from the room, Georgia turned the door-knob and exited as quietly as she could, picking up her pace as soon as she had closed it behind her. She jumped the stairs two steps at a time, almost losing her footing, and didn't look back until she had boarded the taxi. Fifteen seconds later her phone began ringing. It was Max, a furious Max, demanding that she call him straight back. She couldn't, just couldn't, what could she say? 'Thanks for rejecting me tonight and making me feel like crap'? She was going to go somewhere where she could let her hair down and feel desirable for once. If he didn't want her, someone else would. That somewhere was 'Club 101', the epicentre of the city on Saturday nights.

Her text reply from Phoebe came through as she was paying her entrance fee.

'We're dancing at the front by the D.J. What the hell happened tonight you dodo? And yes of course you can stay at mine, xxx"

Georgia wasn't going to explain the whole, sorry episode. It was now 10.10pm and the only texts she sent was one to her Mum to say she would be staying at Phoebe's overnight and one to Max saying she was safe back at home. Her mobile rang two minutes later. It was her Mum. Georgia looked at the screen for a few seconds, and then promptly stuffed the phone back in her bag.

Her misdeeds were numbering up today so as she teetered on to the raucous dance-floor, she figured she may as well go for it big-style. Atonement would have to wait until tomorrow.

"Georgia! You're here!" screeched Phoebe over the noise, and she bear-hugged her for moment, just before Adele muscled in on the action to get a cuddle too.

"What happened tonight? Are you OK?" asked Phoebe.

"I'll tell you another time; when I give a crap. You fancy a tequila shot with me?"

"Tequila? You never drink that, it's my drink," Phoebe said, looking startled.

"Well now it's our drink," replied Georgia and she grabbed hold of her hand to drag her to the bar.

Phoebe wasn't about to stop her friend's enjoyment, she had been trying for years to pull the stick out from her ass and she loved that tonight she was finally letting go. The girls knocked a shot back within seconds and remained at the bar, finding levity in each other's company. When her favourite dance-track came on, Georgia began dancing as best as her wobbly legs would allow, until she stumbled backwards on to her backside. When Phoebe began laughing too much to assist her, a man standing at the bar stepped in to help.

"You dance like Bambi on ice," he said, a grin spreading across his face.

Georgia looked up, and although her vision was blurred, she could make out his chiselled, pretty face, framed by messy, tousled hair and set above broad shoulders.

"It looks like someone is on a mission to get slaughtered," he said, as he pulled her upright.

"Better that than slaughter my Mum and boyfriend."

"Oh, you have a boyfriend?" he replied, looking disappointed.

Georgia flicked her hand up and shook her head, "No, no, I mean my ex. And yes, I am on a mission. You care to join me?"

"Sure, it looks like fun. Beautiful dress by the way," he said, his eyes skimming boorishly up from her toes.

"Thank-you. It's Chloe," she smiled appreciatively.

"Nice to meet you Chloe, my name's Jay."

"Chloe? Whose Chloe?" she asked, focusing intently on his mouth so she could lip-read him.

"That's your name isn't it?" he said, raising his voice in order to be heard over the constant reverberations.

Georgia found this amusing, like everything else tonight. She hadn't been drunk in a long time and she suddenly appreciated what she'd been missing. She was in love with the whole world, and with everyone around her. She wasn't afraid any more, she felt playful and confident. Her mind was that muddled that she never thought to use her alias like she normally did in these situations.

"No, I meant my dress is by Chloe, my name is Georgia."

"Oh. Duh. Well hello Georgia. My name's Jay."

"Jay? That's a very lazy name, dude," she tittered.

Jay looked at her quizzically, wondering if he'd picked up the wrong girl. Drunk women he could do. But crazy? No way. That could end up with his genitals, or some other vital organs, being compromised.

"Lazy? Why is that?"

"Well, it's just one letter, 'J', just 'J'; as soon as you start saying it, you've finished it. You know, like 'K'. "In fact," she slurred, pressing her index finger on his chest, "you should date someone called 'Kay', then you'd be always be together, just like they are in the alphabet."

She was indeed crazy, he thought, but in an entertaining way. "Right, well Kay's not here, so in the meantime, you can keep me company."

"And that's my best friend Phoebe," she said, pointing to her friend who was now twirling around to the blaring music. "Now, your first mission, should you choose to accept, is to buy me and my friend a vodka and coke. Please."

"Sure, I can do that. But you have to promise not to self-destruct."

"Considering how my head feels right now, I think we're too late for that," she said, placing a comforting hand on her forehead.

After thanking Jay for her drink, Phoebe made the decision to leave the couple alone, not wishing to be labelled a gooseberry. She kissed Georgia on the cheek and asked that she not leave unless she'd been told when and where she was going.

"I'll be fine, don't worry. I'll see you in a bit," she assured with a grin, swaying slightly from side to side.

More alcohol followed, all complimentary, and Georgia was impressed by how generous Jay was. He seemed nice; cheeky and fun was just what she needed tonight. She was also revelling in his overt attraction to her, the more tactile he was, the more flirtatious she became. As it happened, she was his perfect pick-up too, sexy, naïve, and best of all, drunk.

"Come on then Jay, show me your best footwork," she said, pointing to the floor-space in front of her.

"You want me to dance?" he asked raising his eyebrows.

"Sure, this is a dance-club isn't it? Show me some moves."

Always the exhibitionist, Jay wasted no time in demonstrating a few steps, in the facetious manner he was renowned for. He stopped and raised his brows, searching for an appreciative nod from Georgia.

"You dance like you're allergic to music."

Jay sniggered, it was customary for girls to fawn over him but this firecracker was different, and he began to feel a surprising fondness for her. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't have stood a chance in hell if she was sober, sensing that she was a good girl really, thrown off balance by alcohol. If dipping into his wallet meant she erred on the side of reckless, he was more than willing to keep her glass topped up. Each sip of vodka she took loosened up her limbs until she began to feel like a rag-doll. She threw her arms around Jay's neck, fearing that she would lose her balance if she didn't.

"Hey, it looks like mission accomplished sweet-cheeks," said Jay, excited that his plan was running to schedule.

"I believe you're right," she mumbled.

Taking advantage of the situation, Jay pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue entering without invitation. Georgia was too weak and stupefied to put up a fight, and besides, this man was just the ticket for her to rebel against the world and heal her bruised ego. Jay's hands edged down towards her backside, and he grasped her towards him.

Georgia chuckled, paying no heed to his suggestive intentions, just happy to lap up his attention. He wanted her. Badly. He was going to have her. She wanted him, any cute guy in all honesty. Just someone who could alleviate the urges that had been building up ever since she laid eyes on Max. Maybe she could even close her eyes and pretend it was Max. Yes, that would work.

"Have you been anywhere else tonight then Georgia?" Asked Jay.

"Just for a meal and then here. I came out straight from work, I'm a beautician at Graces Salon." Her readiness to reveal personal details to a stranger was a further sign to how unglued she was becoming.

"Beautician huh? Well, you must be their best asset," said Jay, holding her chin up with his fingers, his eyes drinking in her full and fleshly lips.

She eventually undraped her arms from around his neck and leant back against a marble-carved pillar. Her head was spinning, her vision was double and quite frankly, she knew it was probably time to escape the thumping noise and crowds of clubbers, unfortunately her feet weren't in agreement.

"So what do you do, Jay?"

"I'm in construction. How do you think I got these biceps?" he asked, kissing his flexed arms conceitedly.

Georgia stroked both her hands down the brawny muscle and smirked, "I still think your head is bigger."

Despite her cheap shots at him, something about her was compelling him to stay. "Let's go somewhere quieter to chat. I've got a hotel room just on the corner, we could go there."

"Sure, I need to get out of here," she said, desperate for fresh air to clear her head.

"Before we go, how about one for the road?" he suggested, his one-track mind being shunted back on track.

Before she could refuse, two tequilas had been ordered with his bar-man friend, their reciprocal wink speaking volumes of how notorious Jay was as a ladies man.

She closed her eyes and then suddenly staggered backwards, her hands reaching out for the support of the bar.

"I really cannot drink another drop," she mumbled, shaking her head and pushing away her shot-glass.

"That's fine, I'll look after you."

Her head flopped to one side. "But I have to tell Phoebe I'm leaving. She's just over there."

Jay grasped hold of her arm. There was no way he was allowing Georgia to be persuaded not to leave with him, by some do-gooder best friend. He'd made that mistake in the past and learnt his lesson. "No wait, save your feet and I'll tell her for you."

Georgia, with severe alcohol-induced stupidity, rested back against the pillar and closed her eyes. When she heard her conscience whisper that she'd regret this in the morning, she told it to shut the hell up.

The next thing she remembered was opening her eyes in the hotel room, lying beside Jay while still fully clothed. She'd told him he was very pretty for a boy. He'd told her she was extremely beautiful for a girl. Then they kissed, with hands fumbling everywhere, over and under clothing. After that everything went blank.

Max, meanwhile, did not have the luxury of being comatose. He had stopped trying to call her, which was to be expected after he'd been sent a text saying 'stop calling me.' He paced his apartment for a while, reproaching himself for falling for her ruse. Then he fell back on to the sofa, dragged his fingers through his hair and wondered what the hell he was going to do about this girl. He'd never dealt with that behaviour before. To be fair, he had never refused his date sex before, so it had been unique circumstances. Maybe the age gap was too much for them. Or, maybe he would have to give her the benefit of the doubt. His heart and mind insisted on squabbling, each determined to have their say. However confused it was making him, thinking about Georgia was far more appealing than watching whatever drivel was on T.V.
CHAPTER SIX

It was 4.47 a.m. when Georgia reached her hand out to check the time on her phone. She then noticed three missed calls off Phoebe and five off her Mum. Crap! Why have they been calling? She was pretty sure she had let them know where she was going, pretty sure but not definitely sure. She immediately clutched her forehead, believing in some way that it would assuage the sensation of the brass-band marching through it.

After taking several seconds to assess where she was and how she got there, she frisked her own body, checking for any missing clothing. The immense relief she felt on realising everything was still intact, was expressed through an audible sigh. She twisted her head cautiously to view the body she could sense behind her. The man looked deep asleep, completely out of it, judging by his slow, steady breathing. She had to disappear before that changed and she slithered out of the bed as quietly as she could.

Grabbing her bag, she crept out of the door and called a taxi to take her home, her head bowed in thought and shame until she got there. She turned the latch quietly and moved towards the kitchen to drink as much water as her kidneys would take, not expecting to see her Mum sprawled out across the sofa. Her Mum only did that when she couldn't sleep properly, anxious or stressed over something. She guessed she'd been the reason for that anxiety, her long absence from home not something her Mother was accustomed to.

Her Mum stirred immediately, with that sixth sense that all mothers have around their children.

"Hey sweetie," she smiled, lifting up her head and stroking away strands of hair that had stuck to her cheek. "You have a good night?"

"Yes, it was great to have a boogie with Phoebe again. We haven't done that in ages."

"Oh. You were with Phoebe? I could have sworn she rang here asking for you last night. She put the phone down rather abruptly when I said you weren't here."

Georgia felt herself going hot, it was one thing lying when she was prepared with a story, but having to lie on her feet, that required a lot more skill. "Oh yes, she said she'd called here when she lost me on the dance-floor upstairs, but I caught up with her later."

She had to get out of her Mum's visibility, so she could lie more shrewdly. She left the room to pour herself a large glass of water from the kitchen tap, hoping her Mum wouldn't come too near, the stench of alcohol was seeping out of her pores.

"What are you doing back so early anyway?" her Mum questioned further. Georgia had to remain as nonchalant as possible and she returned to the lounge to get the interrogation over and done with.

"I woke up early and Phoebe was still asleep. I get restless when everyone else is in bed."

"What happened to your friend Max? Did you see him after work?"

"Yes of course, but he had a family emergency around 9.30pm so I asked him to drop me off at the club to meet Phoebe."

Georgia wasn't sure how long she could keep this up. Inventing stories was taxing, but it was a damn sight less confusing, and embarrassing, than explaining the truth. She so wished her Mum was one of those Mum's that you could confide in, ask for advice on sex and love. But she wasn't, not anymore anyway. On the other hand, Phoebe's Mum had the perfect measure of combining disciplinarian with being a friend, and Phoebe had turned out really well-balanced. Georgia couldn't help but feel a little envious of their relationship at times.

"Why are you sleeping down here anyway Mum?"

"I got engrossed in a film, 'Gone with the Wind' actually, and I must have fallen asleep."

Georgia clicked her tongue. "When are you ever going to see the ending of that Mum? You try and fail every time."

"It's three and a half hours, how can anyone concentrate for that long?"

"How about we watch it together, tomorrow in the day? And if I see your eyes closing, I'll be here to give you a nudge?"

"Yes, sounds great to me," smiled her Mum.

"And no cooking either, I'll treat us to a Chinese take-away and pizza for Nathan. He'll love that for Sunday lunch."

"We both will."

"So you weren't sleeping down here worrying over me then?" asked Georgia, looking for reassurance.

"Being concerned is different to not trusting you. I know you're a sensible girl. It's the rest of the world I don't trust."

Georgia simpered, she wasn't sure who was the more naïve, mother or daughter?

"I'm going to try and get some shut-eye now. I'll relax better in my own bed."

"I think I'll do the same before rascal gets up."

Georgia kissed her Mum on the cheek, holding in her breath of alcoholic fumes while doing so. Then she disappeared upstairs, glass of water in hand. She crawled in to bed, fully aware that falling asleep wasn't going to be easy, not with everything racing around her head.

Maybe instead of counting sheep, she could count her sins, it would probably take just as long to do. This is when the previous night's events really began to sink in. She shoved her face down into the pillow to try and shut out the flashbacks she was having. Oh my God, how could she have messed it up so badly with Max, the first man she had felt such a strong connection with? He hadn't deserved any of this, he was a good man with a good heart. She had been so nervous, excited and elated all at once that her adrenaline must have gone into overdrive, stimulated further by the champagne. Drinking it so freely had made her feel grown-up, and yet ironically had only served to highlight her immaturity.

It was time to stop moping and face up to her responsibilities. She would have to, uncomfortable as it might be, contact Max and apologise for her despicable behaviour. After pondering on how to word the text, and changing her mind many times over, she fell asleep.

The alarm on her mobile beeped away at 11am, and on picking it up, she knew her first call should be made to Phoebe, to catch up on last night's gossip. She sat on the side of her bed and took a long gulp of water.

"Hey Pheebs, you up yet?"

Phoebe sounded hoarse and a little worse for wear. "Hey Georgia. I'm not happy with you."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I was worried sick about you last night. One minute you were by the bar with stud-muffin, Jay or whatever, and the next you'd disappeared."

'Jay, of course,' Georgia smiled to herself. Thank Goodness Phoebe had remembered the name of the guy that she had ended up in bed with. At least now she wasn't just a tart, she was a tart with manners.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I was sure I'd told you. Or Jay? Didn't Jay tell you? I think he said he'd told you."

"He said you were going upstairs for a while but you'd be back. So what did happen? Where did you end up?"

"Regal's Hotel, right by the club....." said Georgia, lowering her voice in case her Mum was in ear-shot.

Just at that moment, Nathan came charging through the door, his hazel eyes looking wide and alarmed.

"Georgia, come look, there is the biggest bee in my bedroom. You have to come and get it!"

When it came to Nathan, Georgia was like putty in his hands. She just couldn't refuse anything he asked for when he gave her that puppy-dog look. She would always try and engage with him as much as possible, mostly because apart from pre-school, he had no other human contact. Mum wasn't comfortable leaving him with others, thinking they may not be as attentive as they should be with him. At least in Georgia's childhood, there wasn't as much hysteria over odd-balls and child-snatchers as there was today. Plus she herself had had the privilege of having two youthful parents to keep her entertained. Mum was now 47, and although not old, she just didn't have the same energy she'd had twenty years ago.

"Hey Pheebs, I have to go. I'll tell you everything tomorrow at work. I'm so sorry again for last night."

"Just be careful in future. Bye."

"Right, let's see the critter, shall we. Shall I take a magazine to swat it?"

"Yes, but make sure it's a thick one," he gravely warned her.

Georgia picked up an issue of Cosmopolitan and headed towards Nathan's bedroom.

"Damn, that is a big one. It looks like a bumble-bee. Ok, here's what we do," she said, as if planning a weighty operation. Nathan stared up at her, focusing intently on her guidance. "First we try and get it out of the window, because we'd rather not kill it if we don't have to."

"But won't it fly through another window and sting someone?"

"Maybe, but we need Bumble-Bees to help us to grow fruit and vegetables."

Nathan digested her words carefully before whispering back, "But if this one helps grow cabbage, then I think we should kill it."

Georgia giggled at his thoughtful advice, knowing that Nathan had always hated green vegetables with a passion, despite the inventive ways his Mum had tried to include it in his food.

"No, I don't think this one does so we should be OK to save it."

Nathan nodded, happy to trust his big sister's opinion on any matters. The bee was stationary on the window–sill so with careful precision, she gently nudged it out with the magazine and the pair peered through the glass to watch it fly away into their garden. Georgia lifted up both hands to share a high-five with her little brother, then as she turned around, she noticed a bead bracelet on Nathan's bed.

"This is very pretty, where did you get it?"

"Eva at school gave it to me."

"Oh, is Eva you're girlfriend then?"

"Sort of. She wants one off me too but I told her I have no money."

Georgia flopped down onto his bed. "So you've got girls chasing after you now, huh? Well you are adorable so I don't blame them," she said ruffling his ash-blonde waves between her fingers.

"I'm not going to marry her," he said matter-of-factly.

"Would she not make a good wife then?"

"Maybe she will. But I'm going to marry you instead."

"I'm glad to hear it. But only when you're much older, you have to have lots of fun first," she told him as he sat on her lap.

Nathan looked distracted as he rolled the bracelet beads between his fingers. "And I promise I won't leave you like Daddy left Mummy. I won't make you sad like that."

Georgia stretched forward to look him in the face. "Daddy didn't want to leave Mummy, Nathe. He didn't want to leave you either. He loved you both very much."

"Then why did he leave? When I see him in heaven, I'm going to kick his ass," he muttered pensively.

Georgia didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The subject was sensitive and mournful yet hearing it delivered in such comical style helped to lighten the gravity. She squeezed him tightly and softly kissed his ear.

"If Daddy could be here now, he would be, I promise. But remember you said he was a spaceman now? He's got a very, very important job to do, lighting up the moon and the stars. It would be too dark at night if Daddy wasn't up there," she said, pointing up towards the sky.

She battled to stop her watery eyes from releasing her long-held grief. She felt the bereavement as much as her Mum and brother but she could never disclose it. She had to show strength, she had to be steady and reliable, otherwise they would all fall apart. She couldn't be responsible for any further distress to them, especially an innocent like Nathan.

"So only Daddy can do that because he's so shiny?" he said.

"The shiniest there is. Let's look for him again tonight shall we, and Mum too."

Nathan nodded strenuously. "Yes! And if she still doesn't smile, we can tickle her!"

"Yes we will!" shrieked Georgia, then she grabbed him by surprise to tickle him, much to Nathan's mirth.

After their horseplay tapered off, Georgia decided it was the right time to have a discussion with her Mum. She dreaded initiating the subject of her late Father but it wasn't fair that Nathan was feeling the burden of it at such a tender age. In fact, the only aspect of his Father's passing that seemed to affect him was their Mum's misery.

She asked Nathan to play in his room for a while and then they would order pizza and Chinese for dinner. Nathan was more than willing to go for the trade-off and happily took out his model dinosaurs to play with. Meanwhile, Georgia headed towards the kitchen where her Mum was cleaning the cupboards.

"Mum, I need to speak to you about Nathe."

"Yes darling, what about him?" her Mum replied distractedly.

"Do you know he's bitter towards Dad for leaving us? He's blaming him for not caring enough."

"What?" her Mum responded, twisting around on her haunches. "Of course he doesn't think that. He knows it was just one of those unfortunate things."

"Well those were the words he just used. So maybe you think he understands when he doesn't."

"Well he's too young to understand now but he'll be fine. He's not misbehaving at home or at school so he can't be affected badly by it," she continued and returned back to her scrubbing.

Georgia could feel her hands curl up into fists at her Mum's lack of awareness. "Mum, stop cleaning and talk to me!"

Her Mum gradually came to a stop, surprised at Georgia's aggravation, and turned to stand upright.

"You're right, Mum. He's not affected by losing Dad. He's affected by you." Georgia's voice became strained and low as she saw her Mum's downcast appearance. "You never spend time with him. He's frightened to have fun around you because he thinks it will upset you."

Her Mum walked over to the kitchen table and sat down on the chair. She was silent for several moments, looking vacantly at Georgia. Then her eyes became glassy and Georgia could see her swallowing hard.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know how to be happy any more Georgia. I'm so scared of anything happening to either of you, it overwhelms me, but I still thought I was here for you."

Georgia sat down opposite and took hold of her Mum's hands. "You are here for us, you just don't listen to what we're saying. You don't need to know how to be happy, spend five minutes with Nathe and it'll come naturally. He doesn't need much, he wants you to be content and he wants a little attention."

Her Mum's tears that had been pooling in her eyes began to trickle down her nose, revealing a tortured heart in shreds. "He's the double of your Dad, Georgia, you know that. It's agony to look at him. It just reminds me of how much I miss your Father."

Georgia squeezed her Mum's hands tight within her own. "And we miss our old Mum."

"Hey, less of the 'old'," she snickered.

Then they both stood up and hugged each other tightly, as if a new understanding had entered their relationship.

When her Mum eventually released herself, she told Georgia she was popping upstairs to see Nathan. As she left the room, Georgia took out her phone. It was about time she sent the text to Max, the one that would hopefully break the ice, and prove to him that she was mature enough to acknowledge her mistakes.

'So sorry for my tantrum. I can be pretty dumb on champagne. Any chance we could pretend it didn't happen?'

Before she had to chance to re-word it and change her mind, she pressed the 'send' button and placed the phone down on the floor. It was the silence, the incessant waiting for that beep of a text-reply she couldn't bear. She was grateful for the distraction when her Mum appeared twenty minutes later, carrying Nathan in her arms.

"Nathan wanted to ask if you didn't mind us watching 'The Lion King'," said her Mum.

"Lion King? You mean hundred times wasn't enough already?" gasped Georgia.

"Your eyes have to pretend like they never seen it before, then everything is a surprise," explained Nathan. It was a wonderful insight that she prayed her Mum would heed, and finally open her eyes to what she had been missing all this time.

As the night drew closer and she still hadn't heard back off Max, she decided to try one last time. She'd already accepted it may take more than one text to resolve matters, so wondering whether a flagrant approach would get his attention, she began to type her message.

'If you don't reply to my text, I'll just assume that you've forgiven me and you can't wait to see me again ; ) '

Within five minutes she got her reply. At first, she refused to read it; she didn't want to know whether her daring had back-fired, but curiosity is a powerful thing.

' _Don't forget to buy Amber a birthday card.'_

That was it. That was his reply. Georgia stared at the words for several seconds wondering if he had sent the text to her by mistake. How on earth would he know about her friend's birthday? Could Amber be a mutual friend that she was unaware of? Suddenly it dawned on her. While she chuckled to herself, she scrambled through her handbag, searching for a piece of paper, and then she picked up her phone to text him back.

Georgia: 'You found my 'to-do' list' she typed, guessing it must have dropped out in his flat at some point during her drunkenness.

Max: You also have to buy a cookie cutter, use your charcoal facemask and sort out your sock draw. Weirdo.

Georgia: That's nothing, when I was 7, my to-do list each morning would say 'put pants and vest on'.

Max: Are you saying that you would forget to put on underwear if you didn't read the list??

Georgia: Sometimes...

Max: Hussy! Anyway, a normal person would use their I-Phone for reminders.

Georgia: But then my reminders are gone if I lose my I-Phone.

Max: Ok. So remind me what happened to your list again??

Georgia: Ok, Fair point.

Georgia grinned from ear to ear. He was talking to her at last, albeit to mock her. That was enough for now.

"Look, at that flashing star, that must be Daddy!" gasped Nathan excitedly to his Mum.

As far as lazy, hazy Sundays went, this one had been quite productive.
CHAPTER SEVEN

"Come on Missy, spill all," ordered Phoebe when Georgia walked in to work the next day. "Someone is a man-magnet right now," she said, prodding her fingers into Georgia's ribs.

"Oh God Pheebs, don't. It's bad. So, so bad," said Georgia shaking her head.

"What's your secret? Have you learnt the off-side rule or something?"

"I don't remember discussing foot-ball, the weather or anything come to think of it."

"You mean he let his fingers do the talking? Oh my God, my best friend went from snow-white to slut in one night."

"No, I mean I was steaming drunk, so I can't remember much at all. I know I still had my underwear on and I doubt if he'd have stripped me of my clothes and then dressed me again, right?" She was finding the night's recollection mortifying and Phoebe was revelling in her embarrassment.

"How was it left?"

"It was left with me creeping out the hotel room while he was still asleep."

"And what about Max? You fucked it up didn't you?" accused Phoebe.

"Great, thanks for the vote of confidence. Why would you automatically think I messed things up?"

"Because I've known you since we were eight years old," replied Phoebe, her brow raised in suspicion.

"Yes OK, I fucked up," admitted Georgia reluctantly, "but I am trying to make amends. I texted him yesterday and he replied but he hasn't asked to see me again. I think I've blown it."

Then after re-telling the whole night to her attentive friend, Phoebe became more sympathetic.

"Why would a kind, successful man want to date an immature brat?" Georgia sulked.

Phoebe placed a comforting arm around her. "He won't want to if you walk around with that sullen pout. Look, he likes you too much to let a little thing like 'crazy' get in the way," she said, "especially when crazy has the face of an angel."

When Mrs Goodman, her first client of the day walked in five minutes later, Georgia knew it was business as usual, and with a huge smile, she began to check her in using their intranet system.

"How was your weekend my love?" asked the client.

"Wonderful, me and Phoebe were out dancing all night Saturday. My feet and head are still a little tender today."

"Dancing? Oh I used to love dancing when I was a young girl. Did any nice gentleman ask for a slow-dance?"

Georgia and Phoebe giggled in sync. Bless Mrs Goodman, she had to be in her mid-eighties now and while her hair was a dull grey, her eyes still had a sprightly twinkle. From previous conversations, it did seem that her memory was gradually fading but she was a breath of fresh air among the other prim clients, always kindly and cheerful, and Georgia was very fond of her.

"It's not quite like that anymore," announced Phoebe. "If you're lucky, you may get a groin thrust in your direction, but that's about it."

"Oh good Heavens. It looks like I missed out on all the fun," gasped the old lady.

By this time, Adele had joined in the conversation. "You're really not Mrs Goodman, I can tell you that for sure."

Adele's comment may have been short but it revealed a great deal. She was only eighteen and still finding her feet in the world. Unfortunately, she was also still kissing a lot of frogs in her search for Prince Charming.

A pond-full of frogs was not an option for Georgia. If her Prince Charming had abandoned her, it would mean another drought was on the horizon, and when her lunchtime came and went without incident, it seemed the drought was looming closer. It's surprising how quickly the weather can change in 24 hours.

She had strolled back into the salon swallowing the last mouthfuls of a ham sandwich, to find Adele sniggering mischievously, "What's tickled you?"

"Oh nothing, nothing at all," she smiled, turning her face away.

When Phoebe threw a poisoned glare at Adele, Georgia became suspicious, but she really didn't have the inclination to challenge them.

"Madam has ants in her pants," sniffed Phoebe as she wiped clean the display cabinets. "Would you mind doing a massage client now Georgia? I've just had a last-minute facial book in. I've set up your room," said Phoebe.

"Yes, that's fine. I'll do it. Oh Adele, before you go to lunch, I forgot to give you the tip from Mrs Goodman, £10 between us," said Georgia handing over a five pound note.

"How sweet of her. I only made her a cup of tea!" said a surprised Adele. "I'll be skipping the sausage roll today then. See you later."

Phoebe glanced suspiciously at Georgia as Adele walked away. "Mrs Goodman gave you a £10 tip? The state pension is paying well these days."

Georgia brought her finger to her lips and headed towards her room. "Ssh, she didn't, but Adele's only on basic wage and she doesn't get much in tips. So I just pretend every now and again."

Phoebe snickered and shook her head. "You'll never be a millionaire with that silliness."

"Maybe not, but as you know I put my trust in karma."

"Karma works both ways you know, sins as well as good deeds," Phoebe said.

"I know, but my intentions are always good," she whispered as she opened her door.

"I'll agree with that," came the voice. The lights were off but even with just the intriguing flicker of candle-light, Georgia could distinguish the broad and appealing outline leaning against the couch-bed.

"Max, what the hell?"

"Hey Georgia," he said, idly raising an open hand. "I wanted to see for myself how sorry you were."

Fighting the urge to shriek and jump on top of him, she grinned, "I know I'm not looking serious right now but I really am sorry."

"Oh my God Georgia, you are such a bad liar."

"How can I not smile when you're standing in front of me?"

"Like this," he said and pulled her towards him, his soft mouth teasing her lips and tongue into a gentle rhythm.

"You're right, I'm not smiling anymore," she whispered, her breath heavy and candied.

"Not for long I hope. Your smile is the prettiest thing you wear," he said softly, and then he took a piece of paper from his pocket. "Here's your to-do list by the way."

"So have you forgiven me now?"

"It took me a while. I even wrote up a pro's and cons list to help me decide."

She frowned, not knowing whether he was being serious or not. "You honestly wrote out a list about me? What did it say?"

"Well on top of the pro list was amazing lips..."

"That's rather shallow," she accused.

"Hang on, let me finish; you're kind, ambitious, funny, although your jokes are definitely not.."

"Jokes?" she repeated.

"The spoon in the coffee gag?"

"Oh Jeez, I didn't tell you that one did I?" she said, looking down with embarrassment.

"I also think you're incredibly cute when you blush," he said, lifting up her chin. "I like that you're slightly unhinged, you managed to outsmart me, even when you were legless, and to prove I'm not shallow, I didn't put 'smoking hot body' until the end."

"I'm impressed, and extremely flattered. Ok, so tell me what the downsides were."

Max arched a brow. "That I could never drink champagne with you again."

Georgia smiled contritely, "Again, I am so, so sorry." Max had a point though; she should have never looked for confidence in a bottle. A bottle will always run empty, eventually. "Anyway, why are you not undressed?" She asked, tugging at his collar.

"Are you always this forward?" muttered Max, layering soft kisses on the side of her neck.

"You know what I mean. Didn't Phoebe tell you to take your top off for the back massage?"

"She did. But who said the massage was for me?"

He concluded his seductive words by popping open a press-stud on Georgia's tunic. Her eyes followed his fingers as they stopped at each button, the sides of her top separating inch by inch, revealing a hint of flesh beneath. Picking up his speed as he reached the bottom, he pushed his arms around her waist.

Her skin rose up in tiny goose-bumps as he caressed her back with sprawled hands, her excitement rising as his lips trailed softly around her neck. He slipped off her top at the shoulders and it fell down towards the floor, then with a nimble flick of her clasp, her bra fell to join it. Now she was exposed, consumed by Max's mighty presence.

His cologne filled the air, exploding her senses as their eyes locked. His thumbs brushed lightly under the curves of her full breasts, but he strayed no further, despite Georgia's silent consent to take whatever he wanted.

"Lie down on your front."

She complied with his order and lay face down. Max poured the almond oil into his hands and rubbed it between his palms. Georgia remained silent, fearing any interruption to this divine experience, dreading a return to reality. She wanted it to last until she had melted to liquid droplets, like the burning candles around them.

His hands stroked against her flesh as if they were designed especially for her pleasure. She felt her body sinking, dissolving under the friction of his touch. Then with a gentle kiss to her nape, after what seemed like only minutes, he stopped, snatching her from her indulgent stupor. What the hell? She silently cursed the concept of time, and endings. Now she coveted him more than ever before. She'd had a sober taste of his touch, his kiss, his passion and her body was crying out for more. She turned over to sit upright and drew up her knees to hide her breasts, her instinctive modesty suddenly kicking in.

"Mmm, that was heavenly," she murmured. "Forty five minutes flies by, but it does make a nice change for the masseur to be massaged."

He took her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Your day off is Wednesday isn't it? I want to take you out again."

She had been aching to hear those words, aching for proof that her stupidity hadn't ruined her chance with him.

"So you're sure I'm not too young for you?" she asked, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. "I always imagine you dating an older, sophisticated lady."

Max's lips curled up in amusement. "You really should work on your fantasies more," he said, dismissing her concerns with a wisecrack. "I'll pick you up at 10 and we'll have brunch at mine. Then we can take the day as it comes."

The date was confirmed and Max kissed Georgia goodbye, leaving her both gratified and deprived at the same time. That's the effect he had on her, she was forever hungry for him, yet forever indulged by him, such a glorious conflict.

Keen to hear any sordid gossip, Adele was compelled to ask, "So what happened in there smiler?"

"I swear it was just a massage, honestly," she replied, economising the truth, "But you have to keep it quiet. I had to delete the appointment from the bookings because it just felt wrong to take payment from him."

Max had courteously offered to cover the cost of her time, just like any other client, but she had flat-out refused out of awkwardness. And after all, she was the one who had had the pleasure of the treatment. However, Georgia's guilty conscience meant that she felt obliged to treat a client after-hours at Melanie's request, on a day when Georgia was feeling exhausted and in need of sleep.

Despite her best efforts to make amends that day, it didn't occur to her that it wouldn't be enough, and that her half-truth may come back to bite her on the ass.
CHAPTER EIGHT

Georgia had woken up with a knotted stomach, excited about her date with Max in two hours. With it being another warm day, she knew something loose and light would be the most comfortable, and so after deliberating for twenty minutes, she chose a daisy-print skater skirt, lilac crop-top and converse.

The doorbell rang at 10.05am, catching Georgia unawares. She'd been hoping that Max would have text her beforehand to warn her of his arrival, mostly to avoid any awkward exchanges between her Mother and him. It seemed that Max had decided to walk straight into the lion's den.

Before crossing her fingers in the hope of seeing a double-glazing salesman standing there instead, she threw down her hairbrush, shrieking, "I'll get the door Mum!"

Too late.

"Got it Georgia!" replied her Mum as her hand reached out to the latch.

"Hello, you must be Max."

Max held out a friendly hand. "I am. Good to meet you Mrs Greene."

"Hey Max, I'm ready to go. Now," said Georgia with an exaggerated smile, nudging her Mum to the side.

"I'll bring her back safe and sound Mrs Greene."

Georgia grabbed his waist to swivel him around and steered him down the path.

"You two enjoy yourselves."

"Love you Mum!" she called back as she opened the car-door.

"Well, that went much better than expected," said Georgia with a sigh of relief.

"You mean me meeting your Mum for all of five seconds? There's not a lot that could have gone wrong."

"My Mum may look delicate but she can castrate a man with one look."

"Good news", said Max, after making a cursory grab of his crotch, "I still have mine."

~~~~~~~~~~

Max told Georgia that if she wasn't going to sit down while he cooked brunch, she would still have to remain outside the designated area. She was more than willing to smell the aroma of pancakes, grilled banana and bacon and not take any part in it's preparation. The scent of bacon hadn't enticed her nostrils in a long time. Since her Mum had heard that just one slice a day could cause cancer, she had stopped buying it, preferring the healthier cereal option instead.

As he moved around the kitchen with ease, she could feel herself watching him in doe-eyed admiration. He looked so relaxed, not a sweated brow in sight, just cool and athletically formed, dressed in mustard chinos and classic white tee. She would have licked his face right there and then, if it wasn't weird, from his crooked smile to his salient, blue eyes; he just looked so edible.

"Every girl dreams of meeting a man who can cook," Georgia said, "Where did you learn?"

Max paused to take out two plates from the gloss-finished cupboard, "I taught myself, after I heard that every girl dreams of meeting a man who can cook."

A pang of jealousy hit her gut, the thought of him entertaining any other woman was very uncomfortable to imagine, but she disguised it the best she could with a blasé response.

"Well, let's see if you're a cook or a chef then shall we? I guess the proof is in the pudding, or pancake in this case," she said.

She could hear herself babbling, a habit which stemmed from nerves and one she thought she had grown out of, but being around Max seemed to regress her. It was times like this when she felt too immature for him, and lacked his self-assured presence.

"Does that beautiful mouth stop long enough to take in some food?" he said, planting a sudden kiss on her lips and causing her to replace her next sentence with a coy smile. "Now sit down and I'll serve up."

Georgia settled down at the table and decidedly picked up her fork, keeping a look of anticipation on Max. After sensing the taste of Nirvana on her tongue, Georgia was compelled to praise his culinary skills, and Max, who was already tucking in to his third mouthful, accepted it with indifference, somewhat unsurprised that her taste-buds had been whetted.

"So when you're not prettifying the public, what else do you like to do?" asked Max between chomps of banana and bacon.

"The salon takes up most of my week right now but when I am lucky enough to spare the time, I love photography. If it weren't for photographs from my childhood, I would have forgotten so many amazing moments. I just think it's really cool to freeze history like that."

"Has it just been a hobby or have you taken any academic courses on it?"

"Just a private passion really. My Dad bought me my first professional camera when I was 14 years old and I was hooked straight away. I sometimes still use it but I'm saving up for a top of the range one now."

Max nodded as if relating to her passion, "My Mum is photo-mad too," he mumbled, then he swallowed his mouthful and lifted his knife to make his point.

"I get all the creating memories stuff but what's with all the selfies these days? In many cases, it seems to be a cry for help from girls who are saying 'This is my face. Look at my face. Please tell me I'm pretty.' The most attractive thing about you was that your beauty isn't what actually attracted me."

Georgia was amused by Max's sensitivity, unfamiliar with hearing such perspective from guys her own age, who were more likely to say 'look at the ass on that, I'd do her.'

She wondered again whether this nice-guy act was all part of his plan to woo her, luring her into submission. Then once she had fallen under his spell, he would discard her like yesterday's trash. He always seemed so earnest but could Max be anything but convincing, considering that his vocation depended upon it? She knew she was judging him unfairly based on her past and his career, but she couldn't help it.

While her mind dredged up painful memories of her broken heart over Blake, Max continued with his grievances, "Plus now there's no privacy either because Big Brother or complete strangers are taking photos of your every move without permission."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was sitting with David Beckham," she teased.

"You know what I mean, when you go out and everywhere you look people are snapping away on their phones and then posting them online for all and sundry," he reiterated.

"As long as you're not caught doing something you shouldn't be, there's no need to worry, is there?" she smiled, making light of the whole issue.

Max shrugged noncommittally, which unnerved her for some reason, she didn't know why, it was just one of those gut feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~

Georgia stretched out on the sofa, patting her stomach and groaning. "I shouldn't have had that last croissant. Are you trying to fatten me up Mr Parrish? Our dates so far have revolved around food."

He leant down towards her, baring his teeth, "That was my plan. I get more of you to bite," he said huskily and took a few nips at her neck.

"Hey, get off," she laughed, pushing him away in one of those moments that gave her both a thrill and a chill, like riding the ghost train at a funfair.

"Let's walk it off at the park. We can take Red with us."

"But I can't move," protested Georgia. "Can't I just stay here and vegetate?"

Max was unsympathetic. "Nuh-uh. A walk around the park will make you feel better. Come on, the day's too nice to waste. I'll put Red's lead on and then we can go."

It took all of Georgia's energy to hoist herself up from her reclined position. The meal had surpassed her expectations and with her senses of sight, smell and taste being aroused, she had found it impossible to switch her appetite off.

Red was all excitable, tail furiously wagging with impatience to get outdoors, and with concerted effort on Georgia's part, the three of them reached the glorious grassy-green landscape that was Bloomsbury Square. Max removed Red's leash so that he could fully appreciate his freedom and explore nature's open space.

As he bolted off towards some bushes, Georgia became concerned. "Are you not worried that he'll run off?"

"Nope. He's a model dog, well trained and very obedient."

Her over-wary mind alerted her again, 'and is that what he expects from his women too?'

She reproved herself for being so mistrustful, so analytical of his words. The poor guy hadn't done one thing that warranted such accusations, in fact, everything she had witnessed so far was perfect, more than perfect. She knew the problem lay with herself, not believing that she was worthy of his attention and then trying to validate the fact by finding faults that weren't there.

Max casually slipped his hand into hers and she felt a surge of bliss dance up into her chest. This could well turn out to be her most perfect day yet. The sun was blazing down and all around there were loved-up couples and playful children. Birds were singing in the trees, dogs were pointlessly chasing sticks and ducks were bathing in the lake. It was like taking a stroll through paradise, and holding hands with Max was the pinnacle of all her fantasies.

"Wow. This is awesome," she gasped, swept away by the tranquillity of Meiso Gardens, the hidden gem of Camden. It had a cascading waterfall, a stone path above a pond of koi-carp, and red maples and shrubs cut in distinctive Japanese style. "I wish I had my camera, the scenery here is just breath-taking."

"How about I memorise every detail so I can remind you about it whenever you want," Max murmured into her ear.

Georgia wondered how he managed to never make anything romantic sound sappy, he just had this way of remarking on things in such a matter-of-fact way. By the time they'd reached the playground, Georgia's head was in a spin. It was as if all the right conditions had come together by magic to make this day impeccable. "Well I don't know about you but I can't wait to have a go on those swings," said Max and he tugged at her hand to join him. Red, sensing Max wanted Georgia's attention, followed his Master's lead and began jumping up at her legs.

"Max, what are you doing? The place is full of kids," she said, resisting his force, after which he had no choice but to uproot her and take her there himself. Realising that to struggle was futile, she surrendered, allowing herself to be pulled on to his lap, sniggering with self-consciousness as a group of bemused children looked on.

"You're crazy," she whispered as he used his feet to launch them forward.

"Now you can stop worrying whether you're too immature for me," he whispered back, "I'm the man who plays on swings."

The swing gathered momentum and Georgia instinctively tightened her grip around his neck. "So Max, apart from playing in the park, how else do you let your hair down?"

"If you're asking how I relax, then it's martial arts and extreme sports."

"How is risking your life, relaxing?"

"Are you kidding me? You can release so much tension on the slopes or the ocean-waves."

"I think my feet prefer it on the ground," she said.

Max propelled them even higher, making her yelp out. "What's the riskiest thing you've ever done then?" he asked.

"This, what we're doing now," she replied between shrieks.

"Being on a swing?" said Max, incredulous. "Hell Georgia, you've got some living to do."

As the swing accelerated higher, so did her squeals of alarm and thrill. Unbeknownst to Georgia, her biggest risk had already been set in motion.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving back at the apartment a couple of hours later, Max went straight to the air-con control, while Georgia sighed deeply, threw her satchel on the sofa and then dumped herself beside it.

"Could I have a glass of juice please?" she asked, testing out her helpless look with a pout and imploring eyes.

"Sure you can," he said, smirking purposely, "The fridge is right there, I'm going to get changed."

Georgia smiled to herself. He was pleasantly forthright, and she suspected that the dulcet timbre of his voice was partly responsible. She realised right then that whatever feminine wiles she had, Max was too astute to submit to them, or maybe she would have to work on improving her wiles.

Georgia's thirst prompted her to down the drink in seconds and then she sauntered over to the music system. She had just pressed play, curious as to Max's taste, when she glanced up to see him strolling back in, dressed in navy sweat-pants and teal retro t-shirt. Good God, he was as hot as ever, and without an ounce of awareness about it, making him hotter still.

"I recognise this track, I've heard it in a movie I think," she said, looking swiftly away before her glance turned into a gawk.

"Most likely. It's called Furious Angels. I play it sometimes when I practice JuJitsu."

"Oh yes, your martial arts. What is it exactly?"

"It involves strikes, grappling, joint locks and so on, and you throw your attacker by lowering your centre of gravity under his."

Georgia snorted and folded her arms, "You make it sound easy but a woman couldn't manage that?"

"An 8 stone woman could easily bring down a 17 stone man with the right moves."

"Then show me some, say if I was ever attacked," she enthused, springing to her feet.

"I could show you some Wing-Chun, it's best suited for a woman."

Max positioned Georgia and himself square on to each other to explain the concepts.

"So this is your centreline," he said, skimming his hand up and down his body. "This is where you strike from because it's the shortest and most direct path. It's better than a side-on stance because if you do that, you waste time and leave yourself open to attack."

All the time he was instructing her, he was guiding her arm and leg movements and Georgia was quite surprised to feel herself becoming fired up by the adrenaline and jovial combat. She hadn't known horse-play could be this arousing, and she was finding his expertise and authoritative air utterly compelling.

"Then there's the stance and guard. So if you went to kick me," he said demonstrating by slapping down on her right thigh, "I would kick you down your centreline. Then I can deflect your kick and also attack your supporting leg in one movement."

Georgia was dropped to the floor in one flowing motion and with Max standing imposingly above her, she began to find the sexual tension a little overwhelming, especially as she felt unable to initiate foreplay again after the first disaster. What if he presumed that she was some sort of rampant animal? It was like having her hands tied together and then someone placing a plate of chocolate éclairs on her lap. This was torture. Ungodly torture.

"Now let's say your attacker comes from behind and grabs you like this." Max turned her away from him and stood behind her, locking his arms around her waist in a tight grip.

A restive mood entered the room, and the only sound to be heard was the track now playing and his low, measured breath into her ear.

"Show me how to get free then," said Georgia expectantly, fidgeting under his clutches.

The nape of her neck was suddenly singed under a trail of hot, moist kisses.

"You're going nowhere," he murmured, and she felt his teeth nip at her like she was being served as an appetiser.

He lifted up her top, drew it over her head and slowly slipped her bra-straps over her shoulders. Then running his fingers inside her cups, he brushed over her stiffening nipples and with a deft flick of her bra-clasp, her torso was left bare for his pleasure. His one hand sprawled out to smooth over her stomach, squeezing and cupping the pliant flesh of her breasts between his inquisitive fingers, while the other hand moved downwards. As he gathered up her skirt to stroke over her panties, she began to sink under a wave of rapture. As everything else evaporated from existence, Max was all that she could hear, feel and smell.

Her head fell back onto his chest, each breath she took lowering in pace and depth. He slowly twisted her around to face him. As their eyes locked, she felt like she was standing at the edge of a precipice, and if she didn't happen to fall, she was willing to jump. A frisson raced through every vein, concentrating at her core, and when his mouth tantalised her lips, she eagerly surrendered. He began with hesitation, nibbling and sucking suggestively at her lower lip, letting his teeth graze her skin.

"What made you change your mind?" she muttered, "Y'know, about taking things further?"

"You're really going to look a gift-horse in the mouth?" he murmured in response.

"Horse? Is that supposed to be some sort of comparison?"

"Hell no, I couldn't live up to that. Now 'donkey' on the other hand...." Max's words disappeared deep into Georgia's throat, suppressing her snigger.

He swept her up hurriedly into his arms and carried her into the bedroom to rest her down on the soft sheets of the king-size bed. With her one leg bent up, he ran his hand up and down the side of her thigh, edging further into her panties with each stroke.

Within seconds his fingers had dipped inside them and a murmur rose deep from Georgia's throat as she revelled in his tender but masterly touch. He kissed her full and deep, drinking in her intoxication, his tongue moving in rhythm until her every nerve was alive with greed. As his animal instinct overpowered him, his caress turned coarser and his hands began to clamber over the dips and mounds of her body, rubbing and caressing the silky, heated flesh he ached for. She burrowed her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping provocatively over his scalp, and her back arched involuntarily with an overwhelming need for his domination.

Consumed by thoughts of wanting her, having her, possessing her, he shifted his position to kneel at the bottom of her feet. He brashly pushed up her skirt over her waist, tugged down at her panties and threw them to the side. Within moments of taking out a square packet from his bedside draw, she heard the crackle of foil, then a muscular thigh wedged open her legs and she felt his glorious weight back upon her, his taut and beautifully defined arms trapping her beneath him, his eyes fierce on hers.

With a searing kiss, he was inside her and Georgia's hands fisted the sheets as he generously filled her again and again. When her thighs began to quiver with the start of her release, she reached out for his hands with an instinctive need to entwine his fingers with her own. She pressed her breasts hard against his chest, her moans reaching a crescendo as a raw growl emerged from his throat.

They collapsed side by side, with matching looks of gratification and their panting breaths in sync. Reaching over, he planted a kiss on her cheek and she turned to him with a drugged and dazed look.

Max raised his brows. "So how did you like Wing-Chun?"

"I loved it," she purred. "When can I book another lesson?"
CHAPTER NINE

Georgia had left work this particular Saturday feeling both giddy and exhilarated. The day had been a profitable one and the ambience between client and therapists had been one of lively repartee, reminding her why she had the best job in the world. Now she was on her way home to get prepared for a big night, some would say pivotal in any relationship, a decider on the future of it. Meeting the Parents. Of course she also had to remain pragmatic about it because this wasn't meeting the parents in a 'I-think-we-have-a-future-together' set-up, it was simply a consequence of attending Stephen and Cassie's engagement gathering.

Nonetheless, getting this right could be more significant than many other issues, especially considering that in-laws were responsible for 1 in 10 break-ups. Max's closeness to his family was apparent and therefore, their opinions most likely meant a lot to him. She had to make a good impression, which was the thought swirling around her head when she made a cursory flick through her wardrobe attire. The outfit had to be appropriate for both boyfriend and his parents and so pulling out a bodycon dress, she held it up high. Her appraisal of it told her that it was probably too clingy for this occasion and she swapped it for a blue crochet shift dress. Perfect. Just the right measure of sexy-sweetness required and she threw it on the bed to wear with blue and gold sandals.

After a deep bubble bath that helped to ease her tension, she wrapped herself in a thick towelling robe and plonked herself in front of the vanity mirror. The priority of any night-out was to first create the mood and she leant over to switch on her MP3 player. 'Calling All Hearts' came blaring out the speakers and shimmying on her chair to the beat, she started off by setting her hair in rollers. Next was the 'no-makeup makeup look', essential for the girl-next-door persona. Once she had clipped up the final tendril of hair, she twirled through a light spray of DKNY and began stocking her handbag. Tissue, phone, lip-gloss, purse, perfume; Check.

She had just dropped in her keys when she saw Max's car pull up, and when she opened the door, his mouth eased into that wonderful smile. "Wow, my Dad is in danger of another heart-attack when he sees you."

"Oh my God, is it OK? It's not over the top is it? I thought it was a parent-friendly dress," she fussed, smoothing her hands down the front of it.

"Stop. I'm kidding," said Max, drawing her towards him. "You look very classy."

"I'm sorry," she laughed, exhaling a breath, "it's just nerves."

Max took her hand. "Honey, relax. They're going to adore you, trust me."

His confident approach gave her the comforting reassurance she needed and she got into the car feeling more sanguine.

"So give me the low-down on your parents, what are they like? Forewarned is forearmed and all that," said Georgia.

"Ok, my Dad is the strong, silent type. He'll appear inattentive but the cogs are always turning, ready to deliver a snippet of trivia or lay down the law. He has no time for fools and he's a great judge of character. My Mum on the other hand sees the good in everyone, a Mother-Earth type, warm and selfless."

"Good. I'll make friends with your Mum first. Your Dad sounds a little tougher to crack."

"So when do I get to meet your Mum?" asked Max.

"You already did."

"That was just a fleeting visit. I mean long enough to get all the dirt on you."

"Hmm, let me think," she pondered, holding up her index finger to her lips, "how about Wednesday.... the 20th of Never?"

"Fine. I can wait. I'm pretty good at getting the truth out of people," he remarked apathetically.

Georgia reached forward to turn up the volume of the radio. The dulcet tones of 'Happy' by Pharrell filled the airwaves and she began to click her fingers to the rhythm. When Max gave her a glancing wink, she realised that, just like the lyrics, 'nothing could bring her down.'

~~~~~~~~~~

As the car headed towards Bromley, with the air feeling increasingly stuffy, Max decelerated to put the top down and when they each put on their sunglasses, the pair looked like a couple of celebrities in a movie trailer. It was one of those moments where Georgia had a feeling of life being bloody brilliant.

After the car turned down a dirt path, then on to a granite driveway, it slowed down and Georgia looked up from a text from Phoebe, the usual girly text asking how things were going. Her reply had simply been, 'not arrived yet, text you later, xxx'

"Ok, here we are," said Max.

The name-plaque on the gates read, 'Woodcote Grove' a charmingly quaint and fully secluded Victorian farmhouse set within 2/3 acre of magnificent landscaped gardens overlooking neighbouring orchards. When the electronic gates glided open and they coasted through, she looked around in fascination and envy. This was exactly the type of property she dreamt of Nathan and her Mum living in. The quietude would be so beneficial for her Mum, a fresh start away from the hustle and bustle of the city. For Nathan, the open space for him to scamper around and create his own adventures, and have the normal childhood that was every kid's birth-right.

The heavy oak door opened wide and standing there to welcome them was a slim, elegant woman, possibly around fifty, although her glowing skin belied her age by at least ten years. Her hair was gathered in a side-plait with a few strands of silver peppered at the roots. A smile brimming with cordiality lifted her whole face as she held out her arms to Max and hugged him like he was the prodigal son returning home.

"Hello my darling," she said with a kiss to his cheek. Her Scottish accent, although refined, was definitely more ingrained than Max's, and sounded smooth and lyrical.

"Hey Mum, this is Georgia. Georgia, meet my Mum."

"Hello Georgia, lovely to meet you."

"Hello Mrs Parrish, you too," she replied, shaking her extended hand.

"Oh please, just call me Nikki, we don't stand on formalities in this house. Come in, come in."

The couple stepped into the entrance hall, greeted by a low level of voices coming from the open doors of the lounge. Georgia immediately tried to gauge the size of the group, her heart fluttering with apprehension.

"And Mr Parrish, what does he like to be called?"

"Oh he gets called a lot of names but none of them suitable in front of guests," she joked. "He'll be happy with just 'Mike'. Now come through and tell me what you'd like to drink?"

"I'll just have a white wine please Mrs...Nikki," muttered Georgia awkwardly. Working at the salon, she had gotten so used to calling 'older', la-di-dah clientele by their surnames and now it seemed strange to do otherwise.

"Sure, we have that. Your Dad is trying his hand at home-brew Max but please don't take some if he offers. I want your brain intact if you're looking after this young lady."

"You can't let Dad loose with home-brew, he'll blow the house up next," said Max.

His Mum clicked her tongue, "Leave him be, it keeps him happy."

They all walked through into the front room and Georgia's eyes were drawn to the wealth of period features on display, in particular the exposed beams, large sash windows and inglenook fireplace. A party of around a dozen plus people were scattered around the sofa and the dining area. Georgia felt excruciatingly conspicuous as many of them stopped mid-conversation to look at the newly arrived couple.

"Hey everyone," smiled Max, lifting up his open hand.

"Hi Max," was their collective reply, followed by a smile of surprise. Max had clearly been a single man for quite a while, until now.

Sensing her unease, Max slipped his hand around her back and guided her through to the kitchen where his Mum was serving out their drinks. The kitchen was always the best place to loiter at parties, with easy access to alcohol and nibbles, and a manageable flow of people to engage in idle chit-chat with.

"There you go sweetie," said Nikki, handing over a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc. "Now help yourself to ice behind you if you want," she added, pointing at the ice-dispenser on the Smeg fridge door.

Georgia accepted the offer, believing any dilution to her alcohol would be advisable so early in the evening.

"So Max tells us you're a beautician Georgia," said Nikki, taking a dainty sip of her red wine.

"Yes that's right, at 'Grace's Beauty' in Camden. I've been there since I left college."

"Yes I know it, I've been past a few times when visiting Max. I bet you get pampered all the time working there."

"People always think we do each other's nails, lashes and whatnot but we don't really have much opportunity to treat each other."

"Didn't you say you got a massage the other day?" questioned Max blankly, although his sneaky wink was proof of his intent to embarrass her.

Georgia swiftly averted her eyes from his, to stop herself from blushing. "Oh yes, I forgot about that, but it was the first time in about two years," she replied as she furtively pinched her fingernails deep into Max's behind.

"And do you live far?" Nikki asked.

"I live in Redbridge so I'm about 40 minutes from Max."

Suddenly a petite, fresh-faced girl with sleek, long blonde hair appeared in the doorway.

"Hello Maxi," she grinned, giving him a playful tickle. Georgia hoped that the girl was Cassie or maybe a cousin, it was preferable to her being one of those ex's who had remained amicable with the in-laws.

"Hey Cassie," smiled Max. "You're looking very well."

"Well I'm happy to be planning my big day at last. And this is Georgia I take it," she said smiling warmly.

Georgia proffered her a hand to shake. "Hi Cassie, yes I'm Georgia, nice to meet you."

"You too, we've heard all about you."

Max pushed affectionately at Cassie's shoulder, "You'll scare her away saying that, I've only told you her name and where she works. Anyway, where's your worse-half?"

"I think you mean better-half," said the voice and then a figure swaggered in from around the corner.

Georgia's heart almost stopped.

What the fuck?

Surely someone was playing a sick joke on her.

She panicked that her gasp had been audible, as her chest constricted and stifled her breath.

"How's it going bro?" he said, fist bumping Max.

"Waiting for party-boy as always," Max replied and then he turned to speak to Georgia. "This is Stephen, my brother."

"Everyone calls me Jay or Jamie, except for my freaky family," he said, looking directly into Georgia's eyes with a taunting glint.

As degradation infested her soul, she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. This really was the archetypal living nightmare.

Nikki tutted and shook her head. "Because as I keep telling you, your birth-certificate states 'Stephen' as your first name and 'Jamie' as your middle name. I've called it you for 24 years and I'm not going to stop now," she insisted with displeasure, turning around to take some shish-kabobs from out of the oven.

"And I only call him 'Stephen' because I know how much he hates it," said Max, their tacit sibling rivalry rearing it's head again when Jay then held up his middle finger to him.

"Hello Stephen," Georgia said, offering him the same contrived smile she had mastered so well with her unpleasant salon-clients. She used this name for two reasons, one, because she wanted to distance herself from the 'Jay' she had met that night and two, by using the name he loathed, she felt that she was taking a stance against his seeming intimidation.

"You must be Georgia, great to meet you. Unusual name you have. I've only ever met one other 'Georgia', she was a leggy blonde too."

"Hey, don't forget there's a ring on my finger now, so no more flirting," Cassie said, and then she threw her arms around Jay's neck. "Tell your brother what the topless bar was like last week," said Cassie.

Jay groaned, unamused. "You know the lads said they were surprising me for my engagement. On the night, I misheard 'tapas bar' for 'topless bar'. Oh man, I was so disappointed. I hate tapas. When you order a main meal, you don't expect to share it with every other fucker round the table? That's just crazy."

"Serves you right," said Nikki, "your playboy days should be over. I can't believe you got Cassie to say yes to you."

Max also piped up with his light-hearted dig. "Cause Cassie can't say no to a stray. Why do you think she got Gus the greyhound?"

Jay's mouth dropped open in protest. "She knows I adore her really, I only have eyes for my beauty," he contended.

His declaration would have been rather moving, had his eyes not brushed crassly over Georgia's body as he embraced Cassie. She wanted to put her fingers down her throat and retch at his nauseating deceit, but she couldn't. Obviously.

Georgia's mouth had never felt so dry and she glugged at her wine hoping to blur out what was happening. Surely everyone had noticed her flushed cheeks and heard the deafening sound of her thumping heart. She felt like she was dressed from head to toe in guilt with a flashing siren on top of her head. Poor, unsuspecting Cassie; she had no clue what a philandering bastard her fiancé was.

She took a deep breath and tried to smile as if she had never set eyes on the man before. If only she could convince her brain to believe it and she might get through the sour night that lay ahead.

She took a skittish glance over at Jay. He knew. He'd known before she'd even arrived this evening. A tall, strawberry-blonde beautician called Georgia? Not many of us about, she surmised. His pompous smirk said it all and now he was taking pleasure from her head-fuck. The next thoughts to plague her were; 'Who else knew? And how much did they know?'

"Are you ok?" whispered Max, tightening his grip around her waist. "You look a little flushed, you're not still anxious are you?"

She forced a smile and shook her head, "No, not at all, everyone has been so nice. I think the wine went to my head, you know I'm a lightweight."

Max sniggered. "How could I forget? That night is imprinted in my memory."

His words were horribly ironic. That same night would now also be indelible in her mind, the only difference being was that she could find no shred of humour in it at all.

"I just have to visit the ladies room," she whispered, needing just a couple of minutes alone.

"Sure, I'll show you if you like."

"No, don't be silly, you stay here, I'll find it."

"Ok, it's the last door on the right upstairs."

Planting a kiss on his cheek, she left him and walked towards the bathroom.

What are the fucking odds? She blasphemed. Why is this happening to me? Her conscience came back with a theory, 'Because sometimes bad things happen to stupid people.' Phoebe would probably find this farce hilarious, at first anyway, until she realised the gravity of it.

'Get a grip', she ordered herself. She opened the bathroom-window wide and breathed in the countryside air, thankful for the mild breeze that was now stirring up. She sat down on the toilet lid, desperate to call Phoebe and hear her words of comfort but she couldn't risk being overheard by anyone.

It was obvious that Max was unaware of her misdemeanour, and that most likely meant that Jay had ulterior motives for keeping it quiet. Surely if Cassie ever found out, it would mean the end of their ludicrous engagement, although for all she knew, Cassie could be aware that she was marrying a womaniser and was happy to stay in denial.

Alternatively, if she was to give Jay the benefit of the doubt, he could be protecting Max's feelings. The third explanation might be that he was getting a kick from holding Georgia to ransom. The first two possibilities meant that Max would probably never find out, the latter, however, meant that she was sitting on a time-bomb, and Jay could reveal their dirty little secret at any time.

She deliberated her choices, she could either play dumb and hopefully it would never be mentioned again, or she could clear her conscience and confess all to Max? No, she couldn't. The risk of hurting Cassie or losing Max was not an option. It was hard enough for a man knowing of his partner's misconduct, but when it involved his own brother, especially with the shaky state of their sibling relationship right now, it was unforgivable. Then add to the mix all this happening behind innocent Cassie's back, good God, it was reprehensible!

Standing up to check her appearance in the mirror, she didn't know whether she wanted to cry or scream, feeling shook-up and angry at herself for being so irresponsible. Although she couldn't recall any sexual activity between her and Jay, she wouldn't swear her life on it, and in all honesty, it was this that terrified her the most.

She knew she had to get back to Max before he realised something was amiss and she scooted down the stairs to find him sitting on the sofa in conversation.

While Max introduced her to his Father, she nestled in close beside him, hooking her hand through his arm. She always felt safe and protected with Max, as if nothing could hurt her, and she prayed that the same sense of complacency would wash over her now. After just a few minutes with Mike, it occurred to her how much Max took after him, rugged-looking and laid-back, whereas Jay resembled his Mother with his pretty-boy looks and animated body-language. Mike was a down-to-earth man's man, a true blue-collar worker, who reminded her a little of her own Father, and although somewhat daunting, she liked him a lot.

The evening turned out to be better than she expected, although that was probably down to the fact that both Georgia and Jay stayed out of each other's way. Maybe Jay had had his fun and the novelty of the revelation had worn off for him.

The rest of the family were extremely affable, especially cousin Matt and Aunt Kitty whom she'd hit it off with, and Cassie who was incredibly cordial, just to make matters worse. Georgia kept wishing for her to show a bitchy side, so that she could reconcile her guilt, but unfortunately Cassie was a delight.

In fact, the whole night was quite an education; she learnt that Nikki was a Dental Nurse and that Mike was a Lift Installer and Repairer. She also picked up a few interesting details about Max, namely that he visited Las Vegas three or four times a year to enter the World Series of Poker events, that he was apparently quite a legend in the poker world, and that he had been expelled from school due to his constant bunking off to learn the game. When that was mentioned, Georgia saw his Mum smile and roll her eyes, so she guessed it had been a contentious issue during his adolescent years.

It was amazing what one could pick up when around loose-lipped relatives. They really were willing to blab about anything when they had a drink in their hand and were sitting comfortable amongst friends.

By midnight, most of the guests had either left for nearby hotels or gone upstairs to the guest rooms. It had been a long day for Georgia and when Max noticed her swallowing down a yawn, he suggested that they make a move too.

"Before you go, I want a photo of my boys and their girlfriends," said Nikki, swinging her arm to encourage everyone to gather together. The two brothers whined and rolled their eyes, knowing they couldn't get out of it. Their Mother was snap-happy and had a whole shelf of albums of her sons growing up over the years, even thoroughly banal ones where they were eating cereal or watching T.V. Max would joke you could make a flip-book of his life with the number of photos there were.

Georgia wasn't sure how it happened but in the final photo, Jay managed to position himself between her and Max, so she was standing at the end. She felt her body immediately stiffen, her dream of a trouble-free evening potentially slipping away.

"Right, everyone close in a little tighter and smile after three," Nikki instructed.

The group smiled cheesily at the camera and just as the shutter went off, Georgia felt a hand grope her behind. She knew it wasn't Max.

Maintaining her composure, she sidled away from him without incident but inside she was seething. The damn cheek of the puffed-up slimeball! It was now confirmed that he was tormenting her. When he hadn't known any better on that night, it could be dismissed as a mistake, but to repeat his shameful behaviour was downright outrageous. She couldn't wait to get out of there and she began hugging the family to bid them all a goodnight.

"So lovely to meet you Georgia, we look forward to having you again soon," smiled Nikki.

Jay then took the opportunity to use his hug to whisper in her ear, and his parting words would make her skin bristle.

"Me especially."

His steely look of devilry sliced through her. That's when she realised that her indiscretion wasn't going to fade away quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 of the 'Love is a Gamble' Series – 'REGRET', by Ruby Foxx – is out NOW.

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