Bought By The Billionaire - BDSM 18 novel Chapter 59

I’d worried that lunch might be some terribly formal affair, in some over-the-top venue with too many sets of cutlery by my plate. Instead, Ross pulls up outside a modest little restaurant, not exactly on a backstreet, but certainly well away from the bustle of the city centre.

Perhaps my Master divines my surprise. “Nice and quiet here. But the food’s good and they know us.” He gestures for me to enter ahead of him as a waiter opens the door for us “Name of Haswell.”

“Yes, sir. Commissioner Stanton is waiting for you.”

A face I recognise sits at a table across the floor, tasting an inch of wine in a glass, then nodding to the waiter who tops it up. As we approach, he glances up, then stands up, breaking into a broad smile and extending a hand like a plate. “Richard. Good to see you. Congratulations!”

Will Stanton is a big man, tall and heavyset. His tightly curled hair spirals silver in places. And his broad, dark face has a lived-in kind of look; craggy with life and good humour. The two men grip hands, slapping each other on the shoulder, and I see the life-lines on his face transform to laughter-lines.

He turns to me, offering the hand again, engulfing my own as I accept it, speaking in a voice like the rumble of heavy traffic. “And it’s good to have a chance to meet you properly at last, Mrs Haswell.”

“You too, Commissioner. And please, it’s Beth.”

“Beth.” He claps another vast palm over the back of my hand. “And it’s Will. In any case, I was delighted to hear you would be joining us today.”

He finally releases my hand from a grip like a giant clam, raises paired fingers to flag back a waiter, then pulls out a chair for me. “I do hope the two of you had a wonderful break. Some time away from the world.”

“Oh, we did. We stayed in Richard’s beach house. It was just glorious.”

My Master takes his own seat. “On which subject, Will, I’d like you and Grace to join us there sometime. For a long weekend perhaps.”

“I’d love to…” The waiter tries to retrieve the wine bottle, but Will brushes him away, leaning across to fill my glass. “… And I’m sure Grace will too.” He fills my Master’s glass too, then turns back to me. “There wasn't a chance to talk with you properly at the wedding, Beth. I’ll admit, I’m intrigued to meet the woman who finally wheeled my oldest friend here down the aisle.”

Something about that man sets me at my ease. My Master was right. Will is easy to like. “And I’ll admit, I was intrigued to meet Richard’s oldest friend properly. He’s told me you were at school together, but not much more.”

“That right?” Eyes twinkling, Will cocks his head at me. Jerks a thumb at him. “He told you yet about what he used to get up to as a kid?”

My Master flips open a menu, arching a brow at Will over the top. His voice bland, “If this is going where I think it is, then what we got up to is, I think, the appropriate phrase.”

Mouth twitching, Will ignores the tone. “There we were, fifteen years old. He waited until I was away for a couple of days with my Mom and Dad, just the weekend. He broke into our house...”

My hand rises to my mouth…

“… When we came back on the Sunday evening, nothing looked out of place until I went into my room. Richard here had cleared out all my stuff… The drawers and furniture. My bed. Everything… And stowed it in the garage. Then he’d gone back and turfed the floor…”

“Oh, my God…”

“… I opened the door to be met by a sheep baaing at me demanding to be let out…”

And I collapse into laughter.

“… Damn thing knocked me flying as it charged out.” Will finally wraps up as I try to get my laughter under control.

My Master’s voice is dry as dust, but his eyes are creasing at the corners. “You wouldn’t believe the whupping I got from my father, but what he isn’t saying is that’s not the end of the story. He got his revenge.”

This time I find I’ve pressed my knuckles to my mouth. “What did you do?”

Will can’t speak properly for laughing, pointing a shaking hand as he leans back in his chair. “You tell her.”

My Master takes a mouthful of wine, rolls it around his mouth then, lips quirking, he swallows. “He waited until I was away, with my parents, but this time it was for the summer vacation. A full two weeks. I returned home to find some of my stuff was in the basement. He’d moved my stereo, my LP collection, my books. Then, he scattered grass seed over everything that was left and watered it. My room was two inches deep in grass. My bed, the bedding, the rug beside the bed. Even the drapes.”

Will’s chuckles ripple circles into his wineglass. “Took me hours to get the seeds to hang onto those drapes. I had to use wallpaper paste in the end. After that…” He holds up spread palms… “… it was easy.”

*****

Will’s eyes crinkle. He sits back in his seat. Folds his hands. “Of course not. When you’ve seen someone set his bed on fire trying to hide a cigarette from his mother, how impressed do you think it’s possible to be?”

I crack out laughing. “Really?”

His smile widens. “Really. His father had him working every night for a month until he’d paid for the damage.”

Footsteps click nearer. Will glances back over his shoulder and as my Master returns, he pauses, eyes flicking between us then, in a voice of resignation, “What’s he been telling you, Elizabeth?”

“That you had to work to pay off your dad once because you’d set your bed on fire...”

His eyes roll up.

“What did he get you doing?”

The eyes roll again, this time sidelong, then back. “Bricklaying. My mother wanted a new garden wall. I built it.” His head tilts, a smile tugging at his lips. “What?”

“You can lay bricks?”

The smile widens, spreading to his eyes. “Of course I can lay bricks. I’m a bricklayer's son.”

*****

Dessert arrives, gooseberry fool as light as the proverbial cloud, dancing a quick rumba up my jawline then vanishing like morning dew on my tongue.

I turn to Will. “So, I know how Richard came to be in the construction industry. How did you come to be in the police?” Both Will and my Master sober up on the spot. Both smiles vanish.

The fool curdles in my mouth. “Have I… said something wrong?”