CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Chapter Eighteen
Jackson
Usually, when something was planned socially for a Friday evening and everyone wanted to finish early in order to leave for the weekend, there would be a crisis that involved approximately thirty phone calls and being reliant on someone who had already slipped away in order to dodge the possibility of said crisis. This Friday was an exception. The crisis occurred in the morning when the need for an injunction occurred to protect a client from becoming newspaper fodder. Given how much we were looking forward to the weekend at our parents', Max, Claire and Seph rallied together to get it in place before anyone went for an extended lunch or took a sneaky half day's holiday. Or developed one of those Friday afternoon migraines.
By nothing short of a miracle, we were all out of the office by three forty-five. I was home by a quarter past four, where Vanessa had turned my breakfast bar into a desk, spread with designs and plans and at least four coffee mugs. She'd not been back to Sophie's since before her meeting with Richard and part of me was becoming agitated at the idea of her spending the night away and what I'd do. It was strange when she wasn't there and evenings, where she had to attend a function or she, met Amelie or Sophie or Simone was half spent waiting for her to come home or text me that they were finishing and I'd meet them for the last half hour before we made our way back. Sophie had eyed me the night before and uttered the immortal words that we needed to talk, which I interpreted as she wanted to check my intentions. I would've done the same if one of my sisters was pretty much living with a guy.
"How long do you need?" I said, raising my eyebrows at the volume of paper.
She looked up, brow frowning. "I'm done. Not in the sense that I'm finished, just that this can be left until Sunday evening when I need to spend another hour getting the portfolio together for Monday. Do you mind if I leave it like this?" she said, straightening the piles into an ordered mess.
"No. We won't be here to see it. Look, if it's convenient for you to work here sometimes, why don't I convert one of the bedrooms upstairs into an office? We could get a decent sized desk up there and a bookcase, plus a futon if a fourth bedroom was needed," I said. I was surprised I hadn't done it already, as there were occasions where I did work from home.
She hesitated for a moment and I saw indecision in her eyes, knowing it stemmed from what it would mean if she agreed. "Honestly, I'm fine with working at the breakfast bar if you're okay with it. Don't change your house around for me although it's a good idea."
I shrugged, expecting her response. "I could probably do with an area to work in too. You haven't seen it yet, but for nights before a big case, this area looks like paper recycling bin has been destroyed in here. I probably should've sorted an office a while ago – just haven't got around to it."
"If it's going to be something you'd use too, then maybe we should have a think about it after the weekend?" she said tentatively. "How much have you done to it since you bought it?"
I glanced around the room. "The grand total of nothing. That's why it's not very colorful. I don't really know what to get to make it feel more like a home. To be honest, it's only since I've been seeing you I've spent any time here."
She pushed the stool under and smiled. "I figured as much. I've packed already for the weekend – I could just do with getting changed. I don't want to meet your father and Marie like this." She gestured down to what she was wearing: yoga pants and one of my t-shirts that had seen better days but still looked better on her than me.
"They wouldn't mind, trust me. They deal with my sisters and have seen every sight known to human and beast. But you need to do whatever makes you feel better." I walked with her into the bedroom, needing to change out of my suit before we set off. Friday traffic was never brilliant, we weren't going to be leaving at a great time and I didn't want to spend two hours sitting sweating on the motorway.
I caught her eyeing me as I stripped out of my shirt, waggling my eyebrows so she knew I'd caught her. She stifled a laugh and turned away. "Don't, Jackson, we need to set off and you're distracting me."
"Does that mean you find me irresistible?"
"No, I can resist you. Especially if you carry on and make us late so your parents have a bad impression of me. Then I'll be resisting you all weekend."
I walked around the bed so I was standing behind her as she faced the wardrobe. She glared at me through the mirror and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. "I'll be good, I promise," I said. "I have a hot tub to look forward to."
She relaxed back into me and smiled as if I was a naughty child. "Yes, so put your clothes on and let's go."
It didn't take us as long as I thought; we avoided any traffic jams which was nothing short of a miracle. Vanessa spent much of the journey on the phone to Alice and then Josh, going through the big meeting they had on Monday morning with the potential for a huge contract that would certainly elevate their company further. I listened in, realizing that I knew the firm's CEO and I wondered if I should put a word in, a reference.
"Okay," she said, finally removing the phone from her ear. "That's going on silent for the weekend. Tell me about your father; what's he like?"
The sudden change in conversation threw me momentarily. I'd told Vanessa lots about Marie but very little about my father, mainly because he was a complex subject and I didn't really know where to start. "He's sociable, especially when Marie's around. He'll like you; he'll probably want to chat business strategies and impart his wisdom."
"What was he like when you were growing up?"
"Honestly? He was a workaholic. Especially after Mum died and before he met Marie he just buried himself in the business. After Marie, he learned how to interact with us more and how to be affectionate, but he still spent most of his time at the office. Every so often he would abandon work for the weekend and have friends and family over, like this weekend, and he'd go a bit over the top, hiring bouncy castles and caterers, but we loved it," I said as we started down the road that leads to the house. A sporty BMW beeped as it overtook us, driving at speed. "Fucking Seph," I said. "I'm going to end up hurting him this weekend, driving like a fucking maniac, probably with Payton in the car too."
Vanessa put a hand on my thigh and squeezed. "How did you drive when you were twenty-seven?"
"Like Seph was just now." I hardly had wings and a halo either. "But that's not the point."
"And was Claire a passenger?"
"Yes, but Max was more reckless than me."
"And that justifies it how?"
"You look really pretty in that top," I didn't even try to hide the swerve in the topic. Vanessa laughed, her hand edging in towards my cock, which had been semi-hard since she put her hand on my thigh. "You'll look even prettier out of it too."
