Chapter Ten

It was strange to live in Aaron's home when he wasn't there. Everything made her think of him - his coat and shoes in the hallway, his Manchester City FC mug in the kitchen...but he wasn't there when she woke the following morning. And she felt a little sad about that.

Over breakfast she skyped Abi who was about to start an afternoon shift and was walking to the hospital as she connected the video call.

"So tell me AAAAAALLLLLLL about it!"

She smiled at her friend's enthusiasm, "NYC? It's pretty special. Work colleagues seem cool...Aaron's in Chicago...but he did show me around yesterday. It feels like I've been here for years...but it's just two days."

Abi rolled her eyes, "I am SO jealous. I told Luke I was going to fly out to see you...but with all this wedding shit...I have neither the time nor apparently the money anymore."

Julia sighed, "I would so love it if you were here with me, we could change this town as a tag team, mate." Abi laughed, but it was a sad half effort. "Don't let this wedding planning detract from the point, girlfriend. You've only been engaged for a few weeks. Don't let the hassle spoil it."

"Spoil what? Keeping the world and his wife happy? Cos that's what it seems like."

Shaking her head, Julia blew her a kiss, "nope. Not at all. It's about you becoming Mrs Harding, about marrying your perfect match, your soul mate. Don't destroy everything with the fuss. You hear me?"

She bit her lip, "I do, but maybe not the mother and mother-in-law-zillas. They are making that Big Fat Gypsy Wedding look like a quickie at the registry office...hell they make Will and Kate's seem under planned."

"Bugger the money, come see me? I can't hug it all away down a camera." She offered her arms, holding the phone at arm's length and her friend grinned.

"You instantly make it better. I gotta go...work. I'll email you my shift pattern for the next 10 days; we're going to have to plan out catch ups, hey?"

She nodded, "this time difference puts the evenings out of the question...and that was our best calling time."

The call ended rather reluctantly on both parts and Julia had to swallow the sadness that the loneliness of being alone made more obvious.

She found a great local supermarket and started to adjust to the changes to pallet and diet. The dogs - feeding, walking and cuddling took up a lot of her time too. They were a loving pair, and she hated leaving them in the morning. But then Carrie reassured her that a dog walker took them out at lunchtime. That meant that her morning and evening walk totalled three a day. Spoilt

She had also cast eyes on the basement gym...but that was as far as it went. It had never been her fave thing, but it was there...she explored the building, laundry, fire escape...everywhere. But she didn't revisit the roof garden, however much she wanted to. There was something wrong with going into Aaron's bedroom uninvited. Even if she craved the view.

Aaron sent her a text, sometime most days, Are you ok? Or the equivalent. She always replied with a yes...of course or a smiley emoji, not really sure what else to say. When they'd gone to dinner and sat in the roof garden then conversation had been easy. But with distance came awkwardness.

Then there was work...which was getting busier. The area for the exhibition was almost complete, and Bogda was due to arrive the following day. Friday. It was a monumental day, and they'd all felt the excitement building all week.

Taylor and Jerome didn't usually socialise together, Taylor was very quick to point that out, but then she was what her and Abi back in London would call a young trendy disco type, he was more of a chilled groovy maybe stoner type. But as D-day approached, they were both keen to take her out on the Friday to celebrate, and of course to see the finer parts of the city. They spent every lunch break arguing about where they would go. Apparently their musical, drinking and eating tastes were all at right angles to each other. She should feel like a referee, someone stuck in the middle, but she didn't. She smiled and looked forward to getting Bogda settled, and have the chance to paint the town red.

Cliffy and Coco had proved to be such great company, especially in the long evenings, but when she'd left them Friday morning, she had no idea what time Aaron would be home. He'd said 'Friday', but she didn't like to contact him to pin him down and seem like a pest. And in typical form, it was the only day that he hadn't messaged her. So from her temporary desk in the corner of Alex's office, she called Carrie early Friday afternoon, after all, she'd be the one to know what was happening.

She answered on the third ring, "hey Julia. How goes it? You all settled in now?"

"I am!" Julia felt ridiculous levels of enthusiasm in her voice as she announced that, "thanks to all your work...but I'm heading out straight after work tonight, so I'm worried about..."

"The double C's!" She cut her off. "Those little douche bags," there was pure affection in her voice, despite her word selection. "I'll cut by there and take them for a quick stroll. I think..." Julia couold hear her tapping at her computer. "Yup, Mr Harding is not due back until late. Leave it with me, they'll be fine. Have a great night; enjoy the Big Apple, and thanks for calling."

With that she hung up.

"So is this a Slippery Nipple...or a Leathery Slipper?" Julia lifted the shot glass that sat next to her half full glass of wine and waggled her eyebrows at her colleague. They'd been in at least half a dozen bars, and to Julia the evening was becoming a bit of a blur. But the company was second to none, Jerome and Taylor had agreed at least five times since leaving work, and even the rather reserved Alex had joined them for an apple brandy. Now a group of Jerome's friends were entertaining her and Taylor as they sat in a sports bar somewhere in the south part of Manhattan, various sports matches playing out on the dozen screens around them.

Taylor giggled, in response, then clinked her glass against it, "you know which it is. Now drink! Don't be such a prude."

The two threw the shot glasses back, emptying them into their mouths, then gave almost identical groans in response. Julia liked Taylor, she was unadulterated fun, the kind of person that Julia never had the chance to be.

The guys, who were now part of their group, suddenly pulled out a pair of dice. "Drinking games!" Someone shouted, and that made Julia groan, she wasn't familiar enough with the place to get blind drunk...but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Another of her innumerable faults.

She only hoped she got home safely. Home...that was what Aaron's had become so quickly. Grabbing her drink she glugged at it gratefully before she processed that comment in any depth.

Aaron stared at Tom, his friend, and legal advisor. "Why the hell would anyone want to buy photos of me and Melissa? No one knows who I am, and she is C-list at best."

He'd flown back from Chicago, only to be summonsed into his offices to meet with Tom. Usually it was a pleasure, but he was tired from too much work and too little sleep. And there was nothing he hated more than bullshit, and this was bullshit of the highest order.

"Melissa must be at a loose end, that's all I can say. She MUST be involved in this, and to be honest, there is more than a little interest in the mysterious benefactor."

Aaron groaned, running a hand over his face, Melissa was his ex of a few months, he honestly thought that she was out of his life...by her own actions. He had no idea what she was playing at, but he wanted to punch someone, something. Turning to Tom he groaned, "I'm not a benefactor. I donated money to a charity. That was it. Hell, it wasn't even me, it was TechWeb. It's not that difficult for anyone to trace its path...and find my role in it."

Tom nodded, "exactly what I thought, which is why she has to be behind this. Let's not forget, she's an aging model, she hasn't been on any big shoot for at least a year..."

Aaron wanted to roll his eyes, but he couldn't lose his cool, and he was walking a fine line, Melissa was a beautiful woman, if you liked size zero with little more to converse about than the price of jewellery at Tiffany's. But he'd dated her. Actually dated her. Mainly because she was convenient and he thought low maintenance, she'd appeared on his arm at the essential dinners; otherwise, they had little in common. Then it had happened...he glared at Tom, "she invited me to her house to let me find her fucking that bit part actor she shares with."

Nodding again, Tom leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "exactly. He's a no one, and I hear that he's abandoned the psycho-ship that is her house, for pastures of the LA variety. So he's an ex roomy too. She's not invited to any of the big events without you, and needs some coverage, needs to be visual. This journo is giving you the heads up..."

Aaron could barely fathom it, "so some entertainment rag wants to publish photos of us together to reveal me as a charity donor?"

Tom tossed the print copy in his direction, "I can get some of it retracted...but it may cost."

Trying to swallow his anger, he couldn't control the snarl at the dilemma - ignore it and he got outed and Melissa got some front page news for a while, or pay out money to quench it. "I'd rather donate money to ANY charity than give it to some rag journalist."

Tom groaned, "and that would see her get the coverage she wants."

Aaron stood, turning to the cabinet behind his desk for his trusted, and little abused bottle of whisky. Sometimes only a fifty dollar a shot malt would do. Pouring a couple of fingers into two glasses, he handed one to Tom, who took it with wide and appreciative eyes.

"What is it with women and fucking me over? Have I got MUG tattooed on my forehead?"

Tom took a drink then shook his head, "you knew from the second you met her that Melissa was going to be trouble. Don't pretend differently."

Aaron nodded, Tom was right. He didn't do relationships, hadn't since his college days...she'd been the first one he'd spent more than a few nights with, and she was out to get him, he was pissed off.

"Deal with it Tom, whatever it takes."

Tom nodded, and they both returned to silence.

Half an hour later, Patrick dropped him outside his home, the building that housed his top floor apartment. After smiling down at the driver and wishing him a good weekend, he glanced up to the top floor and sighed, it was in darkness. Did that mean that his house guest was asleep...or out?

The home was empty, he didn't need to check her bedroom to know that, Cliffy and Coco were still in their room, lonely and feeling sorry for themselves. Above the cupboard that housed their treats was a timed message from Carrie noting the time that she'd both fed and walked them. It was a while ago.

He glanced down at them, "you wanna walk?"

Both animals went crazy, jumping up in his shins, knocking themselves over with the almost demonic wagging. So he reached for their leads, then squatted down to attach them to their collars. Bog mistake as they both almost bowled him over.

"Come on, I could do with some beers, we'll walk to the shop."

There was a small supermarket two blocks away, opposite a small but well lit park. Despite it being after midnight, there was a lot of traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, and so that combined with the zillion pisses each dog took, the walk was twice as long as he'd envisaged.

He drank a couple of beers as he watched the TV, sports scores from across the US. It didn't help him feel any more relaxed, but he knew he couldn't spend all night sat there brooding. So leaving the hallway light on, he climbed up to his bedroom and hoped that he'd sleep.

Cliffy and Coco barked, and he sat bolt upright, suddenly wondering what the hell was going on. Then he heard a bang, as did the dogs, who flew off the bed and down the staircase before he could react. Jumping up himself, he grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it on over his boxer shorts, as he glanced at his watch - three am. At the top of the staircase, he reached for the light and looked down to the lounge as he descended. Then paused in his tracks as he spotted Julia, on her back on top of the row of shoes that sat in the hallway, the two dogs half on top of her licking her face as she laughed like a hyena.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smile taking to his lips as he walked towards her, trying to ignore the fact that her pale blue dress had ridden up her legs to reveal far too much thigh, or that her lipstick was smudged in a rather attractive way.

Offering her a hand, he instead asked, "you looking for a new bed?"

Her eyes flashed from the dogs to his hand and he wanted to laugh, she was drunk...very drunk.

"Lost my balance..." she mumbled, as he pulled her to her feet. She staggered a little, then fell against him.

"You have a good night?" She again looked up at him, her eyes struggling to focus. "I love New York..."

"You do?" he tried to ease her into the lounge but she was fighting him.

"I do! It's fun...wild...and they're not here. No one is here..." She paused dead, looking at him once more, "finally. That's all I've wanted. Them to not be here."

"Who?" he asked trying to wrestle her into the lounge.

She stopped dead, then stared up at him, "none of them...no one's here...that's why I can breathe...you know?"

He didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but suddenly he knew that whatever was bothering her was the key to the darkness that she used as a shield. He had a million questions, but as he opened her mouth to speak, her eyes suddenly started to drift closed. He caught her, before she literally fell asleep on her feet, then carried her into her room, never more glad that she'd found her way home in time...if she'd fallen asleep in a cab who knew what could happen.