An Acute Attraction (6 page)

            Precisely I think to myself, we have hit another wall.

           “I assume then you’re saying its black tie for you and formal dresses or gowns for the women? Marc I don’t own anything like that, never mind just happen to have it folded up in my suitcase.”

             I really don’t mean to sound sarcastic, just truthful. I hope it didn’t come across that way and I am reassured when Marc squeezes my hand a little.

           “Please don’t be anxious about this. I had thought about the fact you may not have a suitable dress, so what I am about to suggest to you now, I don’t want you saying no to. After all you’ll be doing me a huge favour by accompanying me to what could well be a tedious evening and so having the company of a beautiful, intelligent, funny lady on my arm would help no end.”

            I hit him in jest. “Give over Sanders, you've done this before remember.”

           He feigns the pain on his arm where I hit him, but I see the humour in his eyes.

          “Exactly so I know what they can be like. Please Isabel. I’d like for you to go out shopping for an outfit tomorrow. It’ll be on me as I'm the one that has dropped this bombshell on to you. So it’s the least I can do.”

            I start to say “But!” when he interrupts.

          “No buts Isabel. Let me do this and say yes.” He looks over at me with over exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

            I sigh, “Yes, yes Ok. I can go into Cambridge while you are at the University.”

            I hear him gradually release a breath. He must have been holding on to it while waiting for my answer. I take his hand, lace my fingers with his and rest our conjoined hands in his lap.

          “Thank you”, I hear him softly say.

            Apart from the slight hum of the engine, the rest of the 15 minute journey is made in silence. I am grateful of it to be honest, as my mind is whirling around with so many thoughts that I need to get them straight.

            Marc parks the car and then comes around to open my door. Taking my hand, he helps me to get down from the seat and looking at me he gently lifts my chin.

             “You look shattered. Don’t worry about helping to bring in the hamper and blanket; I’ll see to that a bit later. Let’s get you upstairs for the moment.”

               I nod as that is all the energy I can muster. I am not only tired; I ache, in some places that haven’t ached in a long while.

               Marc leans down as though he is about to kiss me, but then in a switch movement wraps an arm around my back, while the other goes down to behind my thighs. You’ve got to be kidding me! I swat at him clicking in as to what he is about to do.

                In a deep, defiant voice; the type I would use on the kids, I tell him authoritatively,

               “You are not going to do that! You’ll break your back for one or strain it at least and I am not going to be held responsible for that.”

                 Standing straight again he laughs and holds both of his hands up as though he has been put under arrest. “Ok, Ok.” He defiantly says.

                 I smirk at him. “If you want to help you can put an arm around me so that I don’t collapse before I get to my room.”

                 Reaching around me, he locks the car and pulls me to him. “I can do that.”

                 Being wrapped in his protective arm, I feel safe. I know he wouldn’t let me fall and so I lean in to him.

                 The moment we reach my room I have to stifle a yawn. “That good was it?” I hear the playfulness in his voice, so I just roll my eyes at him. The grin on his handsome face backs up what I thought. Trying to stop another yawn, I banter back.

                 “It’s entirely your fault Mr Sanders, you have worn me out.”

               Seeing him raise an eyebrow makes my stomach tighten. If I wasn’t so tired and know that Marc had work to do; I’d unlock the door in a flash, push him into the room and strip him naked! Bloody hell Chambers, you’ll need therapy for a sex addiction by the end of the week! Mentally slapping myself out of it, I unlock my door and turn to face him.

             
“Yet again Mr Sanders I have to thank you for another wonderful day, it’s been a pleasure.”

                Placing a delicate kiss to the corner of my mouth makes me even weaker. “You go and have a good rest; I’ll text you later to see if you’re awake and Ok.”

                Failing rapidly I retreat into my room and Marc stands where he is until I close the door behind me. Walking to the bed I flop onto it and sleep where I drop.

Chapter 5          

           Waking to the low sun, I realise I must have crashed out as soon as my head had hit the pillow and still dressed in the clothes from earlier, I feel the dampness on the pillow from where I have been sleeping open mouthed. Reaching out for my phone I look at the time. 7pm! Crap! 3 hours I've been out for and I read that I have one message off Marc, plus 2 messages and 4 missed phone calls off Jackie. Double crap! I quickly scan Marc’s text.

           “Good evening beautiful. I hope you slept well. If you’re still sleeping, say hello when you wake up. x”

             I return his text. “Good evening handsome. I’ve just risen from my pit. I slept like a log. Just need to text Jackie then I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. I have a gut feeling I am in trouble with her though. x”

             My phone alerts me of his instant reply. “No worries. Good luck and see you later. x”

              I sit myself up and prop my back against the head board, making myself as comfortable as possible. My instincts are proven right when I enter the lion’s den and read Jackie’s first message.

            “Hi hun. How’s sleepy Suffolk and Cambridge? Hope you’re having loads of fun and text me as soon as you read this. Love ya. xx”

              I notice that was sent only 20 minutes after I had fallen asleep. So not surprisingly, Jackie’s next message is well, how can I put this? Not as loving as the first.

            “ISABEL LOUISE CHAMBERS, WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU? You never ever leave it this long to text me back. So this means you’ve either been kidnapped by gangsters or abducted by aliens! You had better call me back within the next few hours or else I'm getting on that train to find you myself. Shit Izzy, where are you?”

             Apart from the obvious shouty caps, I know when Jackie Marie Dowling is annoyed with me, it’s the only time she uses my full name. Guilt twists in my stomach. Well here goes nothing. Dialling her number, Jackie answers so fast I surmise she must have been sitting on the darn thing. I have no choice but to remove my ear away from the handset when I hear her shouting down the phone.

            “Isabel Chambers, where the hell have you been? I've been sitting here fretting about you. You could have been lying in a gutter for all I knew!”

              I hear her take a breath, waiting for the next onslaught of words I don’t speak. When they don’t come I put my ear to the back to the phone. Jackie sighs and continues in a softer, calmer voice. I think she may have got it out of her system now!

            “Heck Izzy, I have been so worried about you and when you didn't answer the phone as well.”

              Understanding her anguish with the lack of contact, as I would have felt exactly the same had the tables been turned, I close my eyes and let out a breath. For the next 10 minutes or so I explain to my wonderful, caring friend what has happened during my stay so far. Not going into too much detail obviously, although I don’t think she would have minded if I had done.

             “You sly woman you! See, aren’t you glad I persuaded you to go now?” Oh yes, I most certainly am, even if it ended tomorrow I shall always remember this.

              “By the way Izzy, don’t forget that James is coming up to ours today. Craig will be grateful of the company and undoubtedly a visit to the pub after the gym, will be on the cards.”

               Craig really has been a great father figure for my boys, but treats James my eldest son like one of ‘the boys’. Both he and Jackie are amazing; they have been through the good, the bad and the ugly with us.

               After promising to text her every day, we both hang up slightly more relieved than we were quarter of an hour ago and despite the sleep I have had, I don’t fancy doing much tonight. So I text Marc letting him know that I am still alive and kicking, but would just like to veg out for the rest of the night. Reading Marc’s reply makes me giggle. I sometimes forget that he’s from across the pond, so most of our British slang can get lost in translation. Sending him another text, I reassure him that I have not in fact turned into a turnip and that his offer of vegging out with him is indeed an offer I can’t refuse. He goes on to tell me that he still has some work to do, but I am still welcome to go round, as he would enjoy the company. So I shower to freshen up and throw on some yoga trousers and a slouchy top.

              I knock on his door and what stands before me is nothing short of a portrait of an idol. Stood bare foot again Marc wears his faded jeans with a black V-neck T-shirt and for the first time since I first saw him in the reception, I see him with his black rimmed glasses on. Oh my!

             “Isabel, close your mouth or you will be catching flies soon.”

               I promptly shut my gaping mouth.
What? You’d have done the same if you had seen him!

               Standing aside Marc gestures me in to the room and for the rest of the evening both of us are relaxing on the sofa; Marc is busy typing away on his laptop, while I am sat snugly with my feet resting in-between his rock hard thighs and the seat. There is very little chatter as I watch Alfred Hitcock’s Rear Window, one of my all time favourite old movie’s. That is how the evening continues and it is perfect.

               Feeling rested and happy, Marc and I eat breakfast together in the lounge downstairs and he fills me in on his schedule for the rest of the day. I listen intently, but yet again I have not the foggiest idea about some of what he is coming out with. 

               “…a deficiency of lymphocytes can cause the immune system to cease working properly and therefore…”

              Like as I say, I am listening, but!

            
 By 10am we are both full and ready to go. Marc offers to drive me into Cambridge seeing as we are both heading the same way. On the drive in, it’s amazing to see the eclectic mix of architecture; from the modern day 3 bed roomed build to Art Deco mansions and 1970’s office block disasters to breath taking Victorian houses. I will never get bored of this journey, as there is always something that you have never spotted before. The further you travel into the city, the number of cyclists increase as well, which can often cause a heart in mouth moment, when you see how close the buses and other vehicles get to them. If ever you were to visit Cambridge and get off at the train station, you’d be easily mistaken in to thinking you were in Amsterdam for the number of bikes, it’s a spectacle! 

              Christ’s College is in the centre of the city situated next to the shopping malls, so it is conveniently located for us both. The day is hot and sunny and so the sheen on Marc’s black 3-piece suit makes him stand out even more. Yes ladies and quite possibly gents, he looks as hot as you are imagining. I feel under dressed in my maxi dress and sandals standing close to him, but for what I have in store today they are just right. Marc collects his leather briefcase and laptop from off the back seat before coming around the car to say goodbye.

             “Remember what I have said, don’t be afraid to spend the money I have given you. Buy whatever you feel comfortable in, not what you think others should see you wearing. Tonight is for you and me, no-one else. You could wear a trash liner and still look ravishing.”

              I am not quite sure if that comes across quite the same as if he had said ‘bin liner’ which is what us British call them, but I get the gist of what he is saying and the complimentary manner in which he intended it.