Chp 10 London town burning down
We've been in London for three days. Days that are heaven and hell. Heaven to be with Christian. Hell, to have to deal with things I never knew existed. The Firm is more of a mess than I ever dreamed. How things got so complicated and byzantine. Uncle Robert and Grandmother obliviously picked the wrong people to steer the Firm. Christian has fired the entire leadership and some forty PA and assistants. How ten men required a direct support staff of seventy-eight people. Halve of the assistants and secretaries seem to have no background other than mistress and girlfriend.
The perks were more than fifty million dollars a year; vacations villas, vacation hotel room is the most expensive location and hotels, for the whole year. The whole frigging year! Club memberships; in everything from BDSM to gentlemen social clubs in five countries. Lifetime membership's and annual dues in golf courses, rod & gun clubs around the world, that total nine million dollars by itself per year. Per year!
They hide and buried the expense in bullshit memos and bullshit conferences. The spend a million dollar two months ago at the Four Seasons Grand-Hôtel du Cap Ferrat on the French Rivera peninsula Pointe Causiniere. One thousand a dollar a night suite for a week. Fifteen suites! And this is yearly bullshit. My whole honeymoon didn't cost that much. AAGHHHHHH!
I need some air, away from these people. I need a peaceful oasis. All the coffee and tea shops nearby are hordes of business sharks, wanna-bes and ass-kissers. Plus, not one has any decent tea or quiet. I know the circus. I leave the office; my shadows follow me.
I walk from the Firms office in the Square Mile District to nearby Finsbury Circus Garden. I stand at the crosswalk of A501 and Ropemaker Street which turns to South Place on the other side. How did the world get so screwed up; I wonder if grandmother wasn't as sharp as I thought she was. Or was Uncle Robert more soldier than steward of the family business. I will have to accept the reality of what is and not the romantic bullshit of how I thought it was.
I need air and peace and calm. I need a quiet oasis in the middle of bustling London Town. Crossing the street, I walk by the staid and formidable façade of Barclays Bank. Turning left into the Finsbury Circus Garden. The trees shaded hedges, hides quiet reflective spaces, an oasis in the city. I sit, letting the surrounding green soothe me. The central part of the park is under construction for the New Liverpool Metro Station. But right now, the noise is calmed and gentle airs waft thru the leaves. I feel safe and at peace.
I wish I had a cup of tea to make this better. A travel cup of steaming tea, place by my side on the stone bench. I Smile at Hannah, my new personal assistant. It's a very strange thought. I'm Andrea's assistant and I have a PA, now. Life is strange, very strange in Grey world.
"sit, relax." I ask. She does, having learned to let me have these quiet, silent moments. It's my way of making sense of the world. Tonight, I have the first major test of London high society and court. The Duke of Lancaster's Summer Cotillion. He has taken the Jubilee Garden next to the Great Wheel for the gala. The very model of avarice excessive self-praising stupidity.
The old goat is making a statement about his title and wealth. Not even making a charity or cause part of the event. Just avarice greed. I hope things are going well at Lamp-peer house; Carol flew in this morning, after the gown Harrold's sent yesterday was unacceptable. Seem they did not pay attention to my orders or Carols. Using Cruella's old notes. Lucky for them Gail had pack three gowns just in case of this happening. My champion, she loves me for me.
I sip my tea watching the Golden and Green Finches flirt thru the leave heavy branches, Blue, Coal and Great Tits fly about the hedge's greenery, settling for a moment than aloft again. The Chaffinches staring at me from the small patches of grass nearby. "Sorry little ones I have no seeds today. Next time." I sip my tea. I hear Hannah furiously typing on her phone. I suspect bird seed will be in her backpack purse before lunch. I watch the wildlife in this oasis within the urban sprawl of hectic London's Square Mile business district. At least Christian offices are in a more scenic setting.
GEH headquarters is in the newer Canary Wharf Financial District. Located between the Middle and South Docks. Equal distance from the Thames River's Westferry circus and the Canary-Wharf Jubilee park. I miss the Jubilee Park's Café Brera Torta di miele, I could use the Honey cake with spice walnuts and cinnamon to go with my tea.
It's time to return to hell. I am so glad Christian is taking over the Firm. Ulcers would kill me, if I tried. I can do my best at keeping Chris from going thermonuclear down to four an hour. I already hate that 2/3 of the staff are gone. But they did nothing but justify their positions watching other justify theirs. Circular bureaucracies at its worst.
It's time to head back to the meat grinder. I need to calm myself before tonight. I think a little one on one with my sex god before C.O.B. should make me very happy. I skip back to the firm, unladylike I know. But I don't care, my husband is waiting for me. My lips wet in anticipation of my naughty thoughts.
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Duke of Lancaster's Summer Cotillion: Jubilee Garden next to the Great Wheel
We enter the red carpet to a storm of flashes. No one in front of us have gotten that many. The light is blinding. Christian slips a mirror ray-ban on me. We have more than thirty feet till we are inside. I can't wait to smack the duke and his twenty-five-year-old trophy wife. His youngest daughter is ten-year-older than her new step mother.
Christian maneuvers me thru the hordes of photographers. I want to stick my tongue out, but hold my lady like demeanor. My gown is light blue with classic lines; a very open back to tease a certain copperhead guy on my arm. Graceful, functional with my ballet flats. The shoes they sent had Carol rampaging to Harrold's to have it out again with the Head of Personal Shoppers. I pity the poor man. I hate him, but I pity him.
Christian is marvelous in this shark infested waters. Matrons snide comments, cutting remarks and shaming are the rules of the night. Christian is born to this fight. Every attack is Riposte, every counter is a Yielding Parry. He is making the nobs flee us. For the first time in my life I am undamaged by the event.
We dance late into the night, spending the last moments of the party on the Great Wheel. My fantasy of night like this are pale monotones to the rich colors our reality encompasses. Watching the magical lights of the city. I cuddle into his arms. Loving the nipple on my earlobe, the fingers working inside my panties. So wet so ready to go home.
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The light floods into the skylights. The soft LED candles flicker in the shadows. I stand naked at the bed. He walks towards me, naked and ready. My breath hikes, my body flushes in anticipation of what we are about to do.
He kneels, taking me with his tongue, that wicked tongue. I shake and scream into the night. I fist his hair. Riding the emotions. He stands, lifting me up and down on the bed. He reaches for my face. Cupping me to his lips. He slides into me. Slow and steady strokes. Higher and higher I rise into the stratosphere. The world fades in orgasmic bliss.
Near dawn I wake, sore and sated. I look at my sleeping beauty. He is so hot, but so tired. I let him sleep. Taking a robe, I head down to the main kitchen to make some tea and food. It's quiet in the house. So quiet here. I feel like a church mouse walking the paraquat floor, so strange to tip-toe in my own house. I fear breaking the moment and peace of this bright new day.
Sipping my tea, nibbling on a chocolate croissant. I've decided to gut the main London house. It needs a lot of structural fixes. Elliott has recommended a contractor and architect here in England. They both impress me with the initial walk thru. Movers are already packing everything I'm keeping. I suspect the infamous Attic will take a lot of sorting. Frankie and I tried several times to dent the hoard. Not very successful.
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Today, we are working at GEH in Canary Wharf. Hannah has my Café Brera Torta di miele, and tea waiting on my desk; the conference room A table. I have to work thru the Firms Publishing and intellectual properties list with the lawyers. The Firm's lawyers come in, two young guys west-end sharks look at me like I'm meat. They are going to get power spiked if they don't shape up. CCTV images of grandmotherly Mildred Glass, deputy director of benefits in Human Resource dealing with Leia pop in my mind. Yes, that would be fun, very fun indeed to power slam the two sharks.
Hannah-pov:
I've gotten Anna her pastry, English breakfast tea bag out, two cubes of Raw Sugar. All layout in the conference room on the top floor. Sir John PA has set up business stuff in the room. I reflect out the window at the Middle Dock Area and the far city skyscape, waiting for my lady to end her early morning make out session in the CEO office. I wish I had a boyfriend like Christian, attentive, loving, always ready to support her. I need to find a boyfriend, better than my last five.
She is the strangest girl I have ever met. She is one minute the timid, meek, the next a bold tigress sure and confident. I think she is the smartest person I've ever met, with an almost photographic memory. She is always concerned with my feelings and welfare. Contradictions seem her normal M.O.
It makes me want to do an even better job for her. My Welsh grandfather would say 'She a leader to follow into hell and back'. He served fifty years in the Welsh Guards; having joined 3rd Battalion, Welsh Guards in time for the Italian campaign in 1943. He was sixteen years old. After the war he met my Irish grandmother, medical administrator with the Foreign Office, while part of the 1st Guard Brigade in Palestine before Israeli independent.
My eclectic South African mother Victoria Makhurupetja married Dad Andrew Sayer the third, after his tour with the Royal Engineer, while working at a new Lesotho fire clay mine. He met the brilliant newly graduated Geologist from Carleton College in America Minnesota. Thus, my roots are Welsh, Irish and South African Balobedu Ba Ga Sekgopo.
I'm Hannah Sayer, I'm African-Welsh/Irish black and proud of it. My family puts a high standard on loyalty and family dad says "We ride for the brand" some western logic or cowboy mythos, I think. Must remember to send a letter to the rascally pair at the Lounge Lizard Nickel Mine in Forrestania off Western Australia highway 40. Internet doesn't work so old fashion snail mail has to do.
Enough musing, girl get to work. I bring the most recent copies of our BBC & EMI portfolios into the conference room. I put them down when asshole Henry Maxwell opens his mouth, leaning close to Anna's face.
"You're too pretty, little girl; this stuff is too deep too complicated. Don't worry your little head about it. Let's? You and I go out for a drink while the big boys work thru this. The nearby Hiatt has a good bar, comfortable rooms. I'm sure you'll be more at home there than here." He says with his slick west-end ways. Reaching, grabbing her arm. The idiot from the Firm just lite my short fuse with a blowtorch. The Irish and Welsh bloodlines just exploded in my Balobedu Ba Ga Sekgopo blood.
I grab his neck, a good foot above me, jerk his face into the table (SMACK!) And walk him bent over into the door (THUD!) And then out into the hallway. Thomas, Anna's CPO, move to take him. I'm having none of that. I bounce his face (BANG! BANG! BANG!) On the elevator door waiting for it to arrive. Everyone follows me outside; I toss the pretentious asshole over the railing into the South Dock Canal. "Don't you ever talk to a lady like that, or put your hands on her. Anyone else think they can Assault Mrs. Anna?"
I crack my knuckles, the other assholes from the Firm retreat. I notice no one here at Grey House London would even think of such conduct. Here Females are respect and treated as equals, lest Roz finds out. Her Louboutin have been known to contact male genital with swift violent reaction to disrespect and out right harassment. Sir Johns PA tells me, Christian has fired people who harass coworker, particularly sexual harassment regardless of their ability or position.
I return upstairs to Anna still sitting, working on the document; like nothing has happened. "Hannah?"
I expect a dressing down. I over stepped, I know I did. I tense for the firing words to ruin my world. "Yes? Anna?"
"My tea is cold; would you please get another." She says looking up smirking at me. The glint in her eyes tell me I did good. This is a woman like my African tribe; Strong women rule the Balobedu Ba Ga Sekgopo. Queens of merit and ability.
"Yes. Anna. Coming right up." I walk to the Hot Pot, stoked by my boss. Here is a woman to work for. I am ready for anything. I get her a fresh tea and take notes as she quickly works thru the material. Making solid and insightful decisions. So much for complicated or deep; little girl indeed.
I am moving to get the coats as the late summer day turns to drizzling rain; sprinkling the windows with thread thin rivers chasing gravity. Growing thicker with each droplet they merge with. "Hannah."
I turn to Taylor, head of Security. I except the worst. "Hannah, the police decided Maxwell's was at fault, and several secretaries at the Firm and here have complained about his conduct. You're free and clear. Don't repeat it. Let Thomas or me take the problem. OK?"
"Yes Mr. Taylor. I understand." Saying meekly
"Hannah? If you think you need to get physical to protect Anna; do so. Take actions you think appropriate. I know you won't abuse my trust. But getting Anna away from danger is more important than thumping perps. So, let us do our jobs" He smiles at me
"Yes Sir. I understand" I get our coats. Mr. Grey is working another hour before he can go home. They have a charity gala at Wembley. I attend to night. Anna told me Gail has my dress. I hope it's better than the one I had last year. Made me look like a township wash woman.
The dress is classic, nice three-tone satin. With a beautiful display of my cleavage and back. Thomas will be my escort. Anna is in a nice sleeve dress with simple accessories. Understated in elegance and style.
I watch them move about the venue. Love is pouring from them like hurricane. They are perfect, just perfect together. Thomas dances me behind them on the floor. Taylor is in over-watch. Tonight, is golden in the full moon. This job is getting better and better.
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The air is scent with the late summer blossoms on the trees, nearby the fruit trees bow heavy with treasures. The air is buzzing with bees and birds feeding in the last rays of this Saturday. The stream on the edge of the meadow is bubbling in glee from last night's rain. The fresh mowed hay drying in the field waits to be rolled in bundle for the livestock.
Our blankets and picnic basket are strewn about, under the stately ancient oak tree. I straighten my clothes from our marital dalliance. Christian tee shirt is beyond repair, his light windbreaker will have to suffice till we return to our house here in Swainswick. Like anyone believe we just had a picnic lunch in the hay meadows edge.
The ducks lazily sweep by on the sluggish boundary stream, the last sparrow soar in glorious games. The flower taste one last hour of sunshine. I let the mood of the countryside dusk soothe my nerves, calms my heart and light my fire with my husband's arm over my shoulder. We cross the footbridge into my wilderness garden; just like in Jane's book.
The remains of wicker basket and plaid blankets drag the ground. The ancient Neo-Tudor hall belies it modern interior. Build in the sixties after the original burned down from turn of the century electrical wiring installed before electrical codes. Great grandfather had the facade recreated and everything else modernized.
Robert had the utilizes upgraded in the eighties. I had continuous water heaters put in the master, and Frankie's bedroom, as well as Abby's rooms. My upgrade bathroom shower requires it. I had the windows replace three years ago to triple pane high-efficient units. Hidden in the roof folds are solar panels. Geothermal HVAC system controls eight percent of the cooling and heating need of the house year-round. The Adults never came here, too afraid of grandmother's ghost or Abby. Maybe both.
The back area of the hall is different from normal Tudor's, I have a back porch, with a hanging swing loveseat. I now remember why, Ray's house in North Carolina had one. It's where I would read. Where I felt like I belonged. Abby's added Parisian café table and chair, for us to enjoy tea and dinners. Here outside Bath, the world is green and renewable. Far from the concrete of London.
Dropping the gear on the backdoor mudroom bench; we head up to our room, with the master bedrooms four post bed, I adore. We stripe heading into the shower. I let my man wash my sore tired body. I turn to him.
Taking the washcloth, and soap I wash him good, very good. Sinking to my knees, I wash my toy clean; I feel the water change to all heads; as a maelstrom of water churns over us. The marbled tiled three-sided shower has six adjustable body shower heads on each of the three walls, three Koehler rain tile ceiling over heads deluge the box. Two wall mounted adjustable shower heads with twelve adjustable nozzles and two handheld units with eight adjustable heads each with independent water controls; his and her shower. Make this the self-indulging luxurious one of my hidden vices. I love the massage spray functions. Before my man, it relieved my tension and stresses.
I grasp the root of my toy, licking the tip. Making him moan with as the hot water hazes the enclosure. I drive till his back hits the wall. I grab his ass, pulling him deeper into my mouth. Making him scream my name. Making me drive, suck harder and harder till his hands grab my hair and rams down my throat. Face fucking me to heaven. I feel his quickening and tastes his essence and we both explode in bliss.
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Sunday evening:
We sit on the garden patio of the Queensberry hotel on Russell street. We rented the private section of Hotels garden to enjoy a meal from the Hotel's downstairs famed Olive Tree Restaurant. Their locally source food is fantastic, I usually get a table downstairs in the main sections. Sometimes treating Frankie and Chuckie, if they are good to a fantastic meal.
We sit on the pale blue wicker seats in the garden patio. The glass fire pit flickers in the warm summer evening. Candles lights dance in the soft breezes about us. For a man who once claimed not to know anything about hearts and flowers; he does both really well for a novice. I giggle at him over a vodka martini. We spent the afternoon visiting the Holburne museum and gardens; walking where Jane Austen strolled always lights my steps as I try to match the scenes in Northanger Abby. We walk about the city like all the other young lovers strolling this weekend.
Tossing coins from the Pulteney bridge over the Avon. Trying to hit the Pulteney Weir as the water cascades down the steps. I tease him to delights as we kiss and dance. Ignoring the paparazzi and the other couples wandering past us. I love my husband, so frigging much.
We walked along towards Broad street, visited Saint Michael Church. Meandered the narrow sidewalks window shopping the small shops along the road. Played tourist in the Museum of Bath at Work. Making Christian soak up the local history. Till we meandered down to the Queensberry hotel for dinner at the Olive Tree.
The waiter brings us are appetizer canapes: Crab salad, Crème fraîche, corriander and lime, Crispy halloumi, aubergine, basil and olive, Caramelised chicken, confit lemon and sesame. Coupled with a crisp dry Verdelho, Morgan Family Vineyards, Hunter Valley, New South Wales, Australia, 2009 white wine. They are delightfully sinful.
Our entrees are trout cured, horseradish, pink grapefruit, dill and Seabass pan fried, leek, shimeji mushroom, basil, shellfish sauce. With a full, rich, ripe and toasty Meursault , Luchets, G. Roulot, Côtes de Beaune, 2009.
We both have the Dark Chocolate Delice passion fruit gel, yoghurt sorbet for desert with Château Leoville Du Marquis Las Cases, 2eme Cru Classé, St Julien, 1989 Claret.
Taylor motors us to the Ustinov Theater main stage for The Comedy About A Bank Robbery. Abby saw it last week, she was laughing about it still. Marx brothers meets Ocean eleven. We are going back to London tomorrow. Tomorrow I deal with Alexandria Thornhill.
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BRITISH NOZ:
AMERICAN BILLIONAIRE CHRISTIAN GREY WHIRLWIND MARRIAGE TO THE COUNTESS OF LYNNWOOD IS A LOVE MATCH OF EPIC PROPORTION. THE YOUNG COUPLE SEEN IN SEVERAL HIGH SOCIETY EVENTS THE PAST WEEK HAVE PROVEN THEIR STATUS AS NOT ONLY THE NEW POWER COUPLE BUT THE MOST ROMANTIC COUPLE IN ENGLAND. THE PHOTOS OF THE TWO NEWLYWEDS WANDERING LOVE STRUCK THRU HISTORIC STREETS OF BATH. PROVING THE RUMOR FALSE FROM THE AMERICAN TABLOIDS IT'S A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE.
THE LONDON BUSINESS WORLD IS EQUAL SHOCKED AT THE LAMBERT COMMERCIAL BANK & ASSOCIATES RESTRUCTURING. THE HALLOWED PILLAR OF BRITANNIC FINANCIAL MIGHT HAS REDUCED IT STAFF BY TWO-THIRDS. ANALYSTS BELIEVE THE MERGING OF SPECIFIC DEPARTMENT INTO GREY ENTERPRISE AND HOLDING WILL MAKE BOTH COMPANY STRONGER AND NIMBLER. SOURCE INSIDE THE LAMBERT COMMERCIAL BANK & ASSOCIATES DESCRIBE THE COUNTESS AS THE MAJOR POWER AND FORCE IN THE RESTRUCTURING, WITH SUPPORT FROM HER HUSBAND. MANY HOPES; SHE INHERITED HER GRANDFATHERS GOLDEN BUSINESS TOUCH. IF CURRENT INDICATIONS ARE ANYTHING TO GO BY, SHE HAS HIS MIDAS TOUCH AND BRAINS.
THIS COMING WEEK, THE COUNTESS WILL PRESENT HER HUSBAND TO COURT AND THE QUEEN AT THE ANNUAL CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL CHARITY GALA AT ROYAL HORTICULTURAL LINDLEY HALL. ALL EYES ARE WATCHING HOW THE ROYALS AND HIGH NOBS TREAT THE UPSTART AMERICAN AND THE NEW IMPROVED COUNTESS OF LYNNWOOD. WE WILL UPDATE WITH THE BEST AND MOST JUICE PARTS OF HIGH SOCIETY.
BRITISH EXPRESS:
THE WHERE ABOUT OF THE MISSING NEW EARL OF GLOUCESTER HAS BEEN SOLVED. HE IS LIVING IN SEATTLE AT THE HOME OF HIS IN-LAWS. ATTENDING SCHOOL, BEING A NORMAL TEENAGER BY ALL ACCOUNTS. SOURCE SAY THAT HIS HALF-SISTER NEW FATHER-IN-LAW, FAMED LAWYER CARRICK GREY HAS BEEN GRANTED TEMPORARY WARDSHIP. THE WARDSHIP WAS GRANTED AFTER DARK PARTS OF THE LATE EARLS SEX LIFE CAME TO LIGHT. BDSM DOMINATRIX EX-COUNTESS ELIANA LAMBERT IS SCHEDULED TO REMARRIED TO NORTHWEST LUMBER TYCOON LINC LINCOLN WITHIN THE MONTH. BOTH ARE RUMORED TO BE IN THE LEATHER AND CHAIN SET.
SOURCE IN ROYAL COURT AND AMERICA BELIEVE ANASTASI GREY, THE NEW EARLS NEWLY MARRIED HALF-SISTER WILL BE GRANT FULL CUSTODY. THE COUNTESS OF LYNNWOOD IS CRUSHING THE SOCIAL SCENE IN LONDON. THE CLOWN COSTUMED COUNTESS FROM LASTS SPRING IS GONE. INSIDE SOURCE TELL REPORTERS; SHE DRESSED THAT WAY TO MAKE GOOD HER ESCAPE TO AMERICA, WHERE SHE HOPED TO BE JUDGE BY MERIT AND NOT WEALTH AND TITLE.
INSTEAD SHE BAGGED A BILLIONAIRE BAD BOY OF THE BUSINESS WORLD. MULTI BILLIONAIRE CHRISTIAN GREY IS RUMORED TO BE A FORMER BDSM DOM, SOURCE TELL US HE LEFT THAT LIFE YEARS AGO. CAN THE COUNTESS OF LYNNWOOD BE KINKY OR SUBMISSIVE; WE ARE WATCHING FOR LEATHER WEAR, WHIPS AND CHAIN? WE SHALL SEE WHAT THE QUEEN THINKS OF THE COUNTESS'S CONSORT AT THE QUEENS CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL CHARITY GALA AT ROYAL HORTICULTURAL LINDLEY HALL
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London: Monday. Hyde Park Peter Pan Statue:
Sitting under a tree shades branches between the Peter Pan Statue and The Long Water. The wooden bench sits sideways to the Peter's fenced enclosure, looking down towards the Italian Gardens. I watch the mid-morning blue hulled pedal boats cruise by.
I wait with impatient nerves, the coming conversation about my uncle and his one-time fiancée. How will I feel knowing secrets he hide from me? Where does my loyalty lie? I sip my Joe &The Juice Hell of a Nerve Fruit smoothie. I sip the tangy strawberry, elderflower and banana concoction hoping to calm my hands.
Thomas is sipping his Ice Americano leaning on the lake railing, while Hannah sitting on the grass nearby loudly slurps the last of her carrot, apple, ginger crush ice smoothie, apply name Go Away Doc. I see Alexandria making her way towards me. She looks tense, maybe even more than me.
Sitting, we stare at anything other than the other person; I break from the tension. "Alec how did it happen?"
"Robbie and me were together from grade school. He when to Sandhurst and I when to Oxford. He when into the SAS and I started in the financial department of MI-6. We got engage here before he flew out to the Falklands'. Our parents, both sets were against it. His because he was marring down and into a family of dubious wealth. My family because his blood line wasn't enough. You see my family claims blood lines the French, Scottish and English monarchs. I'm technically forty-seven in line for the crown."
"Why did you break up with my uncle?"
"When he came home, he was depressed, very angry at everyone and anything. You didn't exist to control him."
"Control him? What are talking about?"
"Robbie, your uncle was fixated on you from the day you were born. You were the thing that held his sanity and love. Your grandparents didn't become nice till your brother Frankie was born. The heir to continue the family name. Even after your brother, Robbie was always focused on you, as if you were his child. He needed that with his family. You are the only thing he could love and be loved from without damage, or pain."
She looks out over the water. Tears run down her cheek. I take a handkerchief and dab it away.
"Both parents were obsessed with an heir. When Robbie was injured. We tried, really tried to make it work. But we couldn't. He was too angry and too noble. He broke off the engagement, he demanded I marry Thomas, who my parents chose. To move to New York. He's the one who made me promise to live a good happy life."
I can see everything she tells me about my uncle is true. It would be in character for him to sacrifice himself for his loved ones. I remember him holding me, after the attack; telling me how great and free my life would be. I miss him so much.
"you said your son died with him?"
"Yes, Thomas and I had one son. Robert Thomas Thornhill. My mother snide remark when he was 12, caused him to research my life. I named him after Robbie, Thomas was out the country; so, he never got a chance to change it. Robert found old newspaper article on Robbie and me. From that moment he was going to be a soldier." She leans her head on my shoulder, I comfort her.
"He joined the army and volunteered for SAS. He graduated with honors. His first combat tour was in Afghanistan, his second was in Iraq. He was on your uncle's strike team. He was mortally injured when the Blackhawk crashed, Robbie pulled him from the wreckage. But he died before help arrived. He's buried in the Aldershot Military Cemetery, next to his great uncle who died at Dunkirk."
Thomas died a year later, cancer. I moved to San Francisco, worked for Bechtel and Rand, then I was hire by a telecom company in Silicon Valley, San Jose California. Christian bought is almost four years ago; he had to break it up. I ended up becoming the liaison with European operations at Grey house. Then you came along."
"You had to know when I came out? Who I was?"
"Anna, I recognized you the first day you stepped into Grey house. I'm the one who sent Steele the postcard. I've been watching and helping to isolate Eliana and Leia from you and Frankie. You're my connection to Robbie. You are his most precocious gift, his golden child. When I look at you, I see him, being the father, I knew he could be."
I let the smoothie melt to water and let the sun fall towards the west. The shadow from Peter lengthen. We two women, who loved one man. My uncle Robert, not perfect but my true father in my upbringing.
"We need to go. I have a charity event with the Queen to get ready for tomorrow; And you have a ton of work going thru the audit statements, if you still what to work for us?"
"Yes, I love my job. An I would like a relationship with you and Frankie?"
"Ok, but Frankie will have to decide himself. But I'm willing to continue the friendship we have." We stand, hug and walk out of the park. Hannah joins us as we three women gossip mercilessly about the men in their lives or lack of men in their lives. Today has gone better than I could have ever imagined.
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Wednesday: Queens Children's Hospital Charity Gala at Royal Horticultural Lindley Hall.
The limo pulls up to Lindley Hall, the camera flashes blossom like meteor shower. The red carpet is crowded with people waiting to see us arrive. My dress is extremely hot, deep cleavage, open back, slits up both sides to my thigh. Soft white knee boots. The tabloids have been demanding leather, fantasy BDSM shit. While this is more Marylin or Mansfield. Christian is especial sex in his new Saville road tux.
Christian hands me from the car, holding me up on my three-inch heels. We stop for a whole three seconds for the photographers. I see several who delighted in tormenting me last year. I grace them with the American sign language. Chris quickly covers my extended finger. To the delight of the staff controlling the carpet.
We walk into the beautiful exterior on Vincent Square, is matched inside Lindley huge event hall. The Queen has themed the party on the Secret Garden book. We enter to Misselthwaite Manor; the room is full of costumed people from the book Secret garden. The press board at the entrance tell us the children actors and actress are from The Sylvia Young Theatre School), many of the older actors are from the Royal Shakespeare Company.
We mingle as I count and marvel at the characters from the book come alive. Mary Lennox, the main character; good-natured maid named Martha Sowerby; gardener Ben Weatherstaff; a friendly robin redbreast; her uncle Archibald Craven; Dickon Sowerby, Martha's 12-year-old brother; Colin Craven her cousin, son to her uncle.
Also mingling are the actors and actress from the Hallmark Hall of Fame 1987 Tv Adaptation. The Prince is very taken with the Prime minsters and finance Minster fawning over Christian. He's a rock star of the business world. We dine, dance and Christian use that unnatural charm of his to win over the Queen and her Husband. By the time its over we have conquered court.
We lay in bed exhausted by the social albatross around our necks. I cuddle into my man. Letting the world disappear; I refuse let it bring my happiness down.