Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 42

FORTY-TWO

Stefan looked a mess with his sunglasses covering his red, blood shot eyes. He looked tired, but you wouldn’t have known that if you didn’t know him as well as I did.

We sat outside the cafe, the sun shining brightly down on us. A cup of piping coffee sat in front of Stefan, while in front of me sat a tall glass of ice cold black coffee. I needed all the caffeine I could get.

“You look like shit,” I broke the ten minute silence that had started from the second we fount home in our seats.

Stefan’s lips twitched up at the corners to show he wasn’t taking my lack of compliment seriously. “Says you,” He noted back.

I could tell he wanted to ask where I had disappeared to in the middle of our dancing session, but he kept the question reserved. I was unsure if it was due to him waiting for me to tell him in my own time, or if he already suspected the answer.

“I saw Olivia Carol in the club last night,” He noted, turning his head to look out at people walking in the street beside us. “She introduced me to Gwen.”

My stomach dropped for a second. Kota had lied to me, he said she was in her hotel room asleep. That he hadn’t gone out with her. But then for s brief second, mild happiness took over. That meant he knew she was there, and still chose to leave with me , not her.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” I spoke casually as I picked up the glass of my drink and sipped the straw slowly.

He nodded slowly, and I felt green jealously clutch at the edges of my mind. I didn’t want him to agree with the statement.

“But it’s clear she’s hung up on a man who never even gives her a second glance,” He stated coolly, picking up his own drink to take a gulp of it since by then it had lost most of it’s scalding heat.

I felt his eyes locked in on me, and I felt a flutter in my chest. That meant, from what I could deduce from the actions on the plane, that Gwen was hopelessly in love with Kota, only for him to not bother with her existence for the most part.

But then again, wasn’t that how Kota and I were? I hopelessly pined over the man who picked and chose when he wanted me. He could go days without speaking to me, and then he would act as if it was nothing.

As if… I was nothing.

I swallowed half of my drink in one breath, then I placed the glass back on the table harsher than intended. I leant back against the wooden back of my chair and crossed my ankles, resting my hands on top of my stomach.

“Sucks to be her,” I stated, but then our peace was cut off by a man in a suit climbing out of a luxe looking black car. He made his way to us, sunglasses covering his eyes from the harsh bright light.

“Ms Barret and Mr Moore?” The man asked. I shot Stefan a look, then nodded my head as I sat up straighter.

“Yes, how may I help you?” I eyed the man up and down.

He gave a large smile in response. “Mrs King sent me.”

Guillaume was the driver Carol King had hired for Stefan and I.

He was more than keen to drive us around, even taking us the long way to the family’s former apartment as he pointed out scenery to us. He pointed out luxe stores, beautiful yachts, and told us all about the restaurants he highly recommended we try.

We were, I was ashamed to admit, mostly ignoring the man unintentionally as our eyes locked in on the beautiful sea filled with rich boats. I wondered what it would have been like to own a boat half the size of the ones they had.

The place was filled with glitz and glamour, and people who made more in a week that I did in a year reined the place.

We drove up higher, where some luxury apartments where located, Guillaume had explained to us, waving his hand around dramatically. He looked right at home, enjoying sharing the locations with us.

He finally pulled up to an outside car park, and we took that as a sign to step out. But before I could push the door open, Guillaume had beat me to it. He stood tall and proud, a warm smile on his aging face.

“Mrs King said to stay as long as you need. Here is my number,” The man held his hand out with a business card, and I took it from him with a smile in return as Stefan walked around the car to us. “Just call me when you are ready to go for food, or back to the hotel.”

I nodded my head and waved the man off, then walked with Stefan at my side to the front lobby of the apartment complex.

We walked through glass doors, and found a marbled entryway with a desk and a woman sat behind, her hair tied back in the perfectly neat high bun. She gave us a smile. “How may I help you today?” She asked.

“We’re here for Mrs Carol King,” I began, about to go into the story to clarify what we were doing there, but the woman silenced me with a smile as she threw her arm behind her.

“No problem, Mrs King has informed us of your arrival. Please follow the elevator, and then go to the required floor,” The woman sounded friendly, if not a little robotic.

We nodded our heads and followed her pointing, finding what looked to be a perfectly clean and somewhat new elevator. Stefan pushed the button to call for it, and the doors opened immediately to allow us access.

Stefan stood aside to allow me to enter first, then he followed shortly after. He pressed the button for the fourth floor, the one that seemed to be the top floor. We rode in silence to the floor, and once there was a bell sound, the doors opened to greet us to a warm brown painted hallway with a floor to ceiling window at the end.

We stepped off onto the brown wooden floor, and found there to be only two apartments on that floor. One on our right, and one on our left.

“So we have to go to 401,” Stefan stated, looking through his texts with Carol. He walked down to where the doors sat opposite one another in the hallway, and turned to his left. He seemingly chose the right doorway as he shoved his hand into the bum bag he wore. He retreated with a key, then used the key to unlock the front door.

Stefan pushed the door open and turned to me with a grin. “Let’s infiltrate the boss’ home, shall we?”

Without a second thought, Stefan walked through the door, leaving it open for me. I swallowed nervously, looking around as if someone was about to jump out at me and arrest me for breaking and entering at any second.

We had been invited, so I had no clue why I felt so on edge. Ever since I had woken up, I felt something was off. I had a mild case of irritability, and apparently that had worked it’s way up to anxiety too .

I sucked in a breath and held it for a few seconds before I pushed it back out, then I made my way through the door into the King family’s former home.

I closed the door behind me with a gentle thud, and my eyes widened at the sigh before me. The room was filled with white, the odd splash of ocean shades of green and blue dotted around the place in the form of ceramic decor and painted canvas art pieces.

Everything looked clean and put together, not a spec of dust out of sight. I wondered if the King family spent their weekends here, or if they hired a cleaner to just clean the empty apartment daily.

Stefan, with his phone in his hand, stood on the other side of the living room by the large wall of windows. I walked over to him, and only then had I noticed am voice coming from the other end of the phone.

The voice of Carol King greeted me. She looked tired, but spoke animatedly as if excited at the fact she was speaking to Stefan. I moved to stand beside him, even daring to rest my cheek against his bicep so I could get a better look at the phone.

Carol noticed me, and Stefan moved his phone to fit us both into view. “Ashton, hello dear,” The woman greeted me as if she had known me all my life. “I was just telling Stefan,” She began, her smile bright and infectious.

Well, it would have been infectious if the pit of my stomach didn’t feel as if it belong to the depths of the deepest ocean. It was one of those days when I woke up and I had the foreboding sense something was going to go wrong—that something bad was going to happen.

“What is it?” I asked, the woman having remained in silence as if trying to build suspense.

“Well, I booked you guys a table at Lunaire,” She began, and by the blank look on my face, she realised I had no clue who or what the fuck she was talking about .

“Lunaire is one of my favourite restaurants,” She continued, giving a faint awkward laugh at the lack of excitement from Stefan and I. “They specialise in all kinds of sea foods.”

I was at a loss for words. Not because the woman had shocked me, but because the last thing on my mind was eating—bare in mind eating at a place that sounded as luxury as a fashion brand.

“Thank you for that, we really appreciate it,” Stefan replied for the both of us, nudging me with his elbow to at least smile.

I forced a smile at the reminded and nodded my head, putting on my best excited voice. “Sounds yummy, I’m so excited. Thank you so much.”

“It’s a… Fancy restaurant,” The woman began, her eyes wandering over the outfits Stefan and I wore. “They have a certain dress code and I suspect you may have not brought the right attire, so I’ll have Guillaume take you to a shop in town to get some new clothes for tonight.”

“Oh, please don’t feel you have—” I began, but the woman threw a hand up. The action was powerful, it was telling me to shut my mouth and listen to what she had to say.

“It’s no issue. I booked the restaurant without thinking, so let me treat you both,” The woman replied, as if the whole trip itself wasn’t some kind of treat in itself.

I nodded without much further complaint, and the call ended sooner after so we could assess each room and note down the features we felt would work best in the couple’s new home.

Guillaume, at the beck and call of Mrs King, drove us to a boutique just after lunch. The place looked inviting, but oozed riches and luxe.

A woman rushed up to me, already expecting us. She rested her hands on my shoulders and pushed me along to a dressing room, in no mood and with no time to delay—or so she made it seem.

It felt like hours I had been locked in the room, the woman throwing dress after dress at me. After about the twelfth dress, I have up and said I wanted that one. It was a champagne coloured silk dress that had strappy sleeves and a midi skirt with a slit just slightly off of the side.

I exited the changing room with the feeling of sleep overcoming me. I was exhausted, most likely from a mixture of the heat and my lack of sleep the night before.

I found Stefan at the counter, his clothes being placed into a back. He seemed to have picked a knitted shirt which looked very light and airy, but still covered his body enough to keep him most, and a white pair of cotton trousers.

“You ready to get going, trouble?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I nodded, holding both my thumbs up before I grabbed our bags from the counter once my own dress was folded in a bag of it’s own.

Apparently Carol King had send her bank details to the shop, them charging her for the final picks without much further concern.

Guillaume, the friendly man he was, took us back to the hotel and told us he would pick us up in four hours. So we had time to nap, or do whatever else we wanted, before we had to get ready for our meal out.

Both Stefan and I slept like shit, so we took a short nap as soon as he got back to our suite. We then took showers, and gave ourselves more than enough time as we finished showering two and a half hours earlier than we needed to be picked up.

So I decided it would be a good idea to interrogate him, ask him what his behaviour the previous night was about.

As I lazed against the sofa with my arms over the back, music playing softly through the TV, I called out to him. “Do you know what you called me last night? ”

Stefan peaked his head out from his bedroom door, a hairdryer in one hand while the other rubbed at his barely-there hair. “No, what did I say?”

“You called me Tony,” I narrowed my eyes at him, then let out a laugh. “God, I haven’t heard that nickname in ages. I still hate it.”

Stefan turned the hair dryer off, happy enough with his hair. He disappeared back into his room for a second, and then he reappeared once again in the white cotton trousers and a white tank.

“I can’t believe I called you that,” He scrunched his face up as if trying to remember the previous night. “Surely not. I know you hate that name.”

I gave long and exaggerated nods. “Oh yes, you did. I then helped you to bed. You’re welcome for that, by the way,” I waved my hand dismissively, but the smile on my face revealed I was just teasing him.

“Oh God,” He groaned as he threw himself into the sofa. “Did I say any other dumb shit?” He asked, turning to face me with embarrassment clear on his features.

“You told me Gwen was like a lost puppy begging for Dakota’s attention, which you deduced after downing some shots with her,” I let out a slight laugh.

But the reminder of the girl and the lie Dakota had given me soured my mood slightly. I hadn’t texted him that I knew he had lied, and he hadn’t texted me to make sure I got to the hotel safe.

“That reminds me,” He seemed to slip past the topic I had tried to bring up, moving his one leg under his body as he turned fully to face me. He crossed his arms over his chest to try and appear intimidating. “Where the fuck did you disappear off to last night?”

“More like ‘who the fuck disappeared into me last night’,” I smirked slightly at my quick wit. Stefan’s lips parted in surprise for a second before he let out a bark of laughter, his one hand coming to poke my arm lightly.

“Go on lad, have at it,” He cheered me on for being laid, which only made me laugh more. He really was like the brother I had always wanted. He would never know how much I appreciated his existence in my life, because I would never be able to sum it up into mere words.