Kierney Scott - Twice In A Lifetime

They were driven to a hotel ten minutes from the office. Even through tinted windows, the bright sun made Sarah squint. She noted the lack of pedestrians on the streets; everyone must have been indoors or in air-conditioned cars. She didn’t blame them—the air was so hot, she could feel her lungs drying out with each breath. Somehow the streets were lined with lush green gardens with bright pink and purple flowers; clearly there was not a hosepipe ban in effect here, unlike back home, where if it didn’t rain for a month everyone was told to stop watering their lawns and conserve water. It didn’t look as if there was much conservation of any sort going on here.

From the outside, the hotel looked like a course in modern architecture, all steel and glass, reflecting the sun. The inside was something entirely different; it was a case study in gaudy opulence. The floor was polished white marble, with thick crimson and gold rugs dotted about. Several massive pillars created a semi-circle, above which hung a chandelier the size of a grand piano, strung with thousands of crystals. Excess at its best. Covering the walls with dollar bills would have been more discreet.

A porter approached them and asked to take Sarah’s bag.

“No, thank you. She will be staying in the penthouse with me.”

The man nodded and gestured to the elevator.

“Nice place, not unlike the block we used to call home,” she said without looking at Liam. She was too busy taking in the garish surroundings; even the elevator had gold buttons. “Except back home someone would have stolen these by now. If there is graffiti in here, I would swear we were back in Scotland,” she said as her fingers brushed over the cold metal.

The elevator door opened. “Wow,” she said before she could stop herself. The walls facing out of the elevator were made of glass allowing one-hundred-and-eighty-degree views of the city and marina.

“Which one is your office building?” She could not remember which way they had driven.

“That one.” He pointed at a tall building just past a structure that looked like stair steps.

Liam took a key out of his wallet and placed it against the control panel on the interior wall.

“Good evening, Mr McPherson,” an automated voice said in a crisp English accent as the door closed.

“Did the elevator just speak to you?”

He nodded.

“If she could hand me my slippers and an Irn-Bru, this would be a decent holiday.”

“I don’t think you can get Irn-Bru in Dubai. Not that I have ever tried.”

“I don’t know which is more sad—the fact you have never tried to buy an Irn-Bru here, or the chance they might not have it.”

“I haven’t had an Irn-Bru in years.”

“Remember the time we went to Portobello and drank vodka and Irn-Bru on the beach until three in the morning. Sam was so sick, he could not stand up, and you carried him on your back the whole way home because we didn’t have money for a taxi.”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I remember.”

The elevator door opened to the penthouse. To Sarah’s relief, the decor looked nothing like the foyer; it had clean minimalist lines. The walls were painted a crisp white and the floors were a simple polished oak. At the opposite end of the room there was a glass wall incorporating patio doors that led to a massive balcony with a full-size swimming pool and a hot tub. Her entire flat could fit on the balcony. She resisted the urge to say wow again, but that word kept repeating itself over and over in her mind. She had known Liam had done well for himself, but she didn’t really understand it until now. He really had made it. For an inexplicable reason it made her happy and sad at the same time. She wished she had been able to see him achieve it. He had wanted this life for ever. She was happy he had made it, so why could she not get rid of the nagging feeling of disappointment? Maybe it was because he had changed so much to achieve it. The Liam she knew would not have blackmailed her. He would have helped Sam because it was the right thing to do.

She shook off the sudden sentimentality. She might not want to be here but she was determined to enjoy the next seven days. She had not been on holiday for far too long, and, like it or not, this was as good as it was going to get. “I wish I had brought my swimming costume.”

“Just go naked. I do,” he said. A smile played on his full mouth. He looked far too much like her Liam when he smiled.

She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. It was far too easy to picture his tanned, lean form, naked in the clear water. She knew from memory, even the sight of him shirtless was enough to leave her breathless.

She shook her head to try to dislodge the image.

“No one can see you,” he assured her.

“You could see me.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. If it helps, I am imagining you naked right now.”

“Stop that.” She swatted at him, missed his arm, and her hand connected with the hard wall of his stomach.

“Still feisty as ever. You can take the girl out of Scotland, but you can’t take Scotland out of the girl.”

“Too right. Now please stop thinking about me naked.” Her cheeks were growing hotter by the minute.

“Feel free to picture me naked.” When his smile deepened, the dimple on his right cheek appeared.

“No, thank you.” But she was. She was remembering the first time she had seen him naked and hard for her. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to stop the scene playing in her head. She needed to stop seeing him the way he was. He wasn’t hers any more.

“Suit yourself, then,” he said as he led her past a sitting room to a large bedroom.

“Take my room. I will have the guest room at the front.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to take your room.”

“Take it. I work odd hours. I don’t want to wake you.”

“Are you sure?” She was about to say something about him being kind enough to let her stay with him and then she remembered she wouldn’t need a place to stay if it weren’t for him. “Fine. I will take it,” she said a bit more harshly than she had intended.

She laid her bag on a chair and sat down on the king-size bed, the fluffy white duvet cover puffed up on either side of her hips. She glanced at the wood and metal frame of the headboard and wondered about all the things he had done in this bed and all the women he had done them with. Why she cared was beyond her; it wasn’t as if she had been celibate for the last ten years, yet there was a smug satisfaction in knowing she was his first.

“If you want any clothes washed, just leave them in the hamper. The maid will get them in the morning. If you’re hungry, just phone room service. I have a menu in the bedside table.”

The sound of room service made her mouth water and her overdraft hurt. She pulled out the menu and was reminded again how much she could not afford this time away. She only had a single change of clothes, and those were meant for when she landed back at Heathrow. The only clothes she had packed were a wool jumper and another pair of jeans. She would melt if she put on a jumper but she doubted she could afford to buy anything else; something told her Dubai wasn’t a cheap place to shop. She glanced at the clock radio beside the bed. She still had time to make her flight. “Look, Liam. I need to get home. I can’t afford to stay here. I don’t have any clothes and I can’t even afford a starter off this menu. And quite frankly any place without Irn-Bru is not a place I want to be.” She tried to make light of the situation. It felt awkward admitting to Liam she could not afford to even visit his new life.

He looked at her incredulously. “I think I can afford some holiday clothes and a meal or two.”