Erin was already in the kitchen when Richie entered. He looked at her and stopped dead in his tracks. She was wearing a Grecian inspired one shoulder dress in white that was gathered under the bust by a thin gold cummerbund and then fell to the floor in swathes of soft material. She’d had her hair done in a mass of snaky curls that framed her heart shaped face beautifully. Her eyes had been made up in shades of gold and bronze and looked sensual and sexy. Her lips had a touch of barely there nude gloss. Richie felt himself twitch at the sight of her. He smiled broadly at her. It was not going to be easy to keep his hands off her tonight.
Erin stared at the tall handsome man as he entered the kitchen. He looked amazing. She had gotten so used to seeing him with mussed up morning hair and old ripped tee shirts that he took her breath away. He was dressed in a Nehru jacketed black suit with a snowy white mandarin collared shirt. His hair had been flicked out and feathered and she desperately wanted to run her fingers through it. He had a touch of black eyeliner around his lower lashes which gave him a devilish look.
Richie shook himself from his reverie; contemplating not going to the charity event and just ripping her dress from her and taking her on the kitchen table, and walked towards her, slowly.
“Erin, you look amazing.” he said as he neared her.
“So do you.” she replied, dreamily as he got nearer.
He stopped about a foot away from her and smiled. If he was to seduce her and break through her defences he had to take it slowly.
She put down her coffee mug and smiled up at him. If she was to get through his defences and make him see her as a woman and not an employee she was going to have to be clever about it.
“Are you ready for a night of tedious boredom?” he asked smiling.
“I don’t think it’ll be that tedious.” she smiled, looking at him from under her lashes, as she picked up her shawl and evening bag from the table.
“Why not?” he asked as he placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her out to the waiting Limo.
“Because you’ll be there.” She flirted, with a soft giggle as he opened the front door.
He looked at her and just waggled his eyebrows devilishly.
They walked companionably to the waiting car, enjoying each others closeness and the balmy night air.
Richie opened the door to allow Erin to get in enjoying the view as she did so. He followed her and they settled down in the plush leather seats.
“I love Limos” Erin said as she buckled in.
“Do you get in them often?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Oh god no, this’ll be the third one ever. The first two were in New York. My ex and I went over for Christmas shopping shortly after I moved in with him. It was amazing, we went out for dinner one evening and he’d rented us a limo to take us on a trip round the city before driving us to that restaurant in the middle of Central Park, you know the one I mean?”
“Oh yeah, I know it.”
“the food was heavenly!”
“So what about the second time?” he asked, liking the fact that she was unbuttoning bit by bit, but wishing it was her clothing that he was unbuttoning.
“Oh that was the ride from the hotel to the airport.” she sat smiling at him as she was lost in thought.
Richie noticed her smile grow dim and sat silent watching her.
Erin had been lost in thought of the trip back to the airport and of Michael handing her a small box and asking her to marry him.
Richie reached over and squeezed her hand. Erin gave a start as she felt his warm hand on hers but that turned into a smile as he squeezed reassuringly.
She turned to smile at him, “Thank you.”
“Anytime darlin’ I don’t wanna see you upset, and besides we’re here to enjoy ourselves tonight.”
“We are?” she lifted one eyebrow sardonically.
“Well, no…” he admitted shrugging, “ but we might as well have a few drinks while we’re there.” he smiled before leaning in closer, “Let’s get pissed and have a ball!” he whispered conspiratorially.
Erin just laughed, thinking that the evening may well turn out to be a lot more fun that she had originally thought.
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There is a God and his name is Richie
Sunday, 15 February 2009
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Chapter Eleven
Erin padded into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Morning sleepyhead, coffee’s brewed, want one?”
Richie was sat at the kitchen table fully dressed. He had on tight jeans, a black tee shirt, cowboy boots with a pair of sunglasses sat on the table next to his coffee mug.
“Have I overslept?” she asked, completely puzzled as to why he was dressed already.
“Nope, I just couldn’t sleep very well. To be honest I feel really bad about the other night and I wanna take you out to say sorry.” he said, looking directly at her as she stood, sipping her coffee.
“That’s ok, you don’t have to, really.” she replied.
Richie stood and walked over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes, noting the vulnerability that lay there.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m sorry. I took advantage of you and I shouldn’t have. Forgive me?” he said sincerely.
Erin was completely taken aback at his volte face. She hadn’t seen him for 2 days and now this? She could feel the warmth of him radiating through the thin tee shirt she was wearing and wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her again.
She looked up into his deep chocolate brown eyes and took a deep breath. He had just apologised and obviously wanted to get back to just a working relationship. She knew she should be relieved so why did she feel so disappointed?
“Of course I do. It’s partly my fault, I shouldn’t have just reached out and grabbed your hair like that. It was totally unprofessional of me.” she said, smiling up at him as she moved out of his reach.
Richie smiled, “Well, go and get dressed then, cause I’m taking you shopping.” His tone brook no argument and she hurried upstairs.
The smile faded as she left the kitchen. He knew he ought to be relieved that she had accepted his apology and things were going to get back to a working relationship so why did he feel cheated?
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“Richie you can’t buy me that!” Erin said, shocked as he picked up a delicate but very expensive silver and diamond bracelet.
“I can and I will.” he smirked, “Don’t forget, you agreed to come with me as my date to this charity thing, so you’ve gotta look like you belong.”
“But it’s too expensive!” She paled at the price tag of £2,700.
He just shrugged and ordered the sales assistant to wrap it up.
They were in Bond Street and had been shopping for the best part of three hours. Erin had discovered that he loved to shop and had lost count of the amount of times she’d given her opinion on an item of clothing as he modelled them for her. She’d learned from him that he never usually went out clothes shopping by himself as he was red green colour blind and if left to his own devices would come home with the most awful mismatched clothes. After the first half an hour of watching him model clothes for her she’d relaxed into it and had really enjoyed watching him swirl around before her, especially when he’d done a really awful impression of Right Said Fred and had started humming ‘I’m too sexy.’ She’d laughed so hard tears had run down her cheeks.
“So, we’ve got shoes, bracelet, necklace, all we need now is a killer dress. Thanks again for agreeing to this Charity Event, I hate going to them, especially on my own.” he said as he handed the packages to Erin.
“That’s ok, it’s not like it’s a date or anything is it? I’m just accompanying you to an event.” she smiled, a part of her reverently wishing it was a date.
“Er well you see darlin’ they think you are my date.”
“What?” her eyes widened.
“Erm, when the event was planned I was sorta dating someone.” he looked at her, a sheepish grin on his face.
She looked up into his handsome face and frowned slightly. She began to think about whether it would be a good idea or not when her brain apparently took a long over due vacation and her heart kicked in. She was attracted to him; had been since she’d bumped into him and she wasn’t going to let her brain spoil things for her, even if he wasn’t that interested in her.
“That’s ok, that’s fine. I’m sure we can pull this off.” she smiled as they headed off to find a killer dress.
“Morning sleepyhead, coffee’s brewed, want one?”
Richie was sat at the kitchen table fully dressed. He had on tight jeans, a black tee shirt, cowboy boots with a pair of sunglasses sat on the table next to his coffee mug.
“Have I overslept?” she asked, completely puzzled as to why he was dressed already.
“Nope, I just couldn’t sleep very well. To be honest I feel really bad about the other night and I wanna take you out to say sorry.” he said, looking directly at her as she stood, sipping her coffee.
“That’s ok, you don’t have to, really.” she replied.
Richie stood and walked over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes, noting the vulnerability that lay there.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m sorry. I took advantage of you and I shouldn’t have. Forgive me?” he said sincerely.
Erin was completely taken aback at his volte face. She hadn’t seen him for 2 days and now this? She could feel the warmth of him radiating through the thin tee shirt she was wearing and wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her again.
She looked up into his deep chocolate brown eyes and took a deep breath. He had just apologised and obviously wanted to get back to just a working relationship. She knew she should be relieved so why did she feel so disappointed?
“Of course I do. It’s partly my fault, I shouldn’t have just reached out and grabbed your hair like that. It was totally unprofessional of me.” she said, smiling up at him as she moved out of his reach.
Richie smiled, “Well, go and get dressed then, cause I’m taking you shopping.” His tone brook no argument and she hurried upstairs.
The smile faded as she left the kitchen. He knew he ought to be relieved that she had accepted his apology and things were going to get back to a working relationship so why did he feel cheated?
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“Richie you can’t buy me that!” Erin said, shocked as he picked up a delicate but very expensive silver and diamond bracelet.
“I can and I will.” he smirked, “Don’t forget, you agreed to come with me as my date to this charity thing, so you’ve gotta look like you belong.”
“But it’s too expensive!” She paled at the price tag of £2,700.
He just shrugged and ordered the sales assistant to wrap it up.
They were in Bond Street and had been shopping for the best part of three hours. Erin had discovered that he loved to shop and had lost count of the amount of times she’d given her opinion on an item of clothing as he modelled them for her. She’d learned from him that he never usually went out clothes shopping by himself as he was red green colour blind and if left to his own devices would come home with the most awful mismatched clothes. After the first half an hour of watching him model clothes for her she’d relaxed into it and had really enjoyed watching him swirl around before her, especially when he’d done a really awful impression of Right Said Fred and had started humming ‘I’m too sexy.’ She’d laughed so hard tears had run down her cheeks.
“So, we’ve got shoes, bracelet, necklace, all we need now is a killer dress. Thanks again for agreeing to this Charity Event, I hate going to them, especially on my own.” he said as he handed the packages to Erin.
“That’s ok, it’s not like it’s a date or anything is it? I’m just accompanying you to an event.” she smiled, a part of her reverently wishing it was a date.
“Er well you see darlin’ they think you are my date.”
“What?” her eyes widened.
“Erm, when the event was planned I was sorta dating someone.” he looked at her, a sheepish grin on his face.
She looked up into his handsome face and frowned slightly. She began to think about whether it would be a good idea or not when her brain apparently took a long over due vacation and her heart kicked in. She was attracted to him; had been since she’d bumped into him and she wasn’t going to let her brain spoil things for her, even if he wasn’t that interested in her.
“That’s ok, that’s fine. I’m sure we can pull this off.” she smiled as they headed off to find a killer dress.
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Chapter Ten
Erin hardly saw Richie over the new couple of days as he’d seemingly thrown himself into his work. She’d taken coffee up as usual the afternoon after the night before and had found a note on the door of his study.
‘Erin
Sorry but I’m gonna be really busy for the next 48 hours so please leave food and coffee outside and just knock to let me know.
Thanks
Richie’
At first she’d sighed with relief but after two days of not seeing him she’d begun to miss him. Still it was a chance for her to get her head around what had happened. What had happened? One moment she was laughing and joking with him and the next he was kissing her. As the solitary hours dragged by she found herself reliving every moment. From telling him he’d looked like a pineapple to reaching out for his hair. Why had she done that? Up until that point everything had been fine. Sure there was an undeniable attraction between them.
Erin sat in the lounge mindlessly watching crap TV and thought about the attraction. Was it really there? Or was he just as lonely as she was? Was that all it was between them? With a heavy heart she sat looking at but not seeing the TV.
‘That’s it. That’s all that was; he’s just lonely, his divorce has just come through, thanks Gwen for telling me that, and he was just being nice.’ she thought.
‘Nice? So a handsome man like him is being nice by kissing you and making your toes curl?’ a voice in her head argued back
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it, it was just one of those moments. Maybe that’s how he says thank you to a woman, after all I did show him how to make coffee.’
‘That’s is such a lame excuse, go wash your brain out girl. No man thanks a woman by kissing her that way. Maybe a peck on the cheek but not a full blown prelude to a snog’ the voice said, suggestively
‘Shut up!’ she thought, warning the devilish voice.
‘OK, but I think he’s interested in you, and not just for your cooking skills either…’ the voice cackled, smoky and dark.
‘Great, I have two voices in my head and one thinks she’s in a jazz club. No, he was just being kind and got a bit carried away, that’s all. After all what would a man like him see in someone like me? Even my so called fiancé didn’t want me.’
With that final sombre thought she sank back into the sofa and sighed.
--------------------------------------------
Richie sat at his desk, the paper covered with doodles, not one of them looking remotely like a usable lyric.
‘Why the hell aren’t you down there talking to her? Telling her why you kissed her? She must feel like shit, and yet you’re up here hiding away like some fucking coward.’ he thought as he strummed away softly on his Les Paul ‘58. It was one of his prized possessions and he adored it. His calloused yet surprisingly soft fingertips picked at the strings lovingly and he smiled as a soft melody surrounded him.
‘Why the hell did you kiss her?’ he asked himself, ‘you knew she’d just broken up with someone, hell you listened to enough of her conversation last night to have gathered that you asshole’ he berated himself.
‘I’ll tell you why, because you wanted to.’ a voice in his head replied.
‘I did not.’
‘don’t lie to me’
‘ok, so what if I did? I’m a man, I’m not responsible for ‘him’, you’ve watched American Pie right?’
‘You liked kissing her.’ the voice almost purred
‘Yeah, and I reiterate, I’m a man! But, you don’t go kissing someone who’s just broken up with her fiance after ten years just because you wanted to.’
‘Why not?, she liked it. Didn’t you hear that little kitten moan she gave, deep in her throat, so soft that she didn’t even know she’d done it? I know ‘he’ heard it….’
‘Stop it.’
‘Only if you admit why you kissed her.’ the voice whispered, devilishly softly.
‘Because I wanted to, and I’m the worlds biggest shit.’
Richie put the guitar down and sighed.
‘Erin
Sorry but I’m gonna be really busy for the next 48 hours so please leave food and coffee outside and just knock to let me know.
Thanks
Richie’
At first she’d sighed with relief but after two days of not seeing him she’d begun to miss him. Still it was a chance for her to get her head around what had happened. What had happened? One moment she was laughing and joking with him and the next he was kissing her. As the solitary hours dragged by she found herself reliving every moment. From telling him he’d looked like a pineapple to reaching out for his hair. Why had she done that? Up until that point everything had been fine. Sure there was an undeniable attraction between them.
Erin sat in the lounge mindlessly watching crap TV and thought about the attraction. Was it really there? Or was he just as lonely as she was? Was that all it was between them? With a heavy heart she sat looking at but not seeing the TV.
‘That’s it. That’s all that was; he’s just lonely, his divorce has just come through, thanks Gwen for telling me that, and he was just being nice.’ she thought.
‘Nice? So a handsome man like him is being nice by kissing you and making your toes curl?’ a voice in her head argued back
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it, it was just one of those moments. Maybe that’s how he says thank you to a woman, after all I did show him how to make coffee.’
‘That’s is such a lame excuse, go wash your brain out girl. No man thanks a woman by kissing her that way. Maybe a peck on the cheek but not a full blown prelude to a snog’ the voice said, suggestively
‘Shut up!’ she thought, warning the devilish voice.
‘OK, but I think he’s interested in you, and not just for your cooking skills either…’ the voice cackled, smoky and dark.
‘Great, I have two voices in my head and one thinks she’s in a jazz club. No, he was just being kind and got a bit carried away, that’s all. After all what would a man like him see in someone like me? Even my so called fiancé didn’t want me.’
With that final sombre thought she sank back into the sofa and sighed.
--------------------------------------------
Richie sat at his desk, the paper covered with doodles, not one of them looking remotely like a usable lyric.
‘Why the hell aren’t you down there talking to her? Telling her why you kissed her? She must feel like shit, and yet you’re up here hiding away like some fucking coward.’ he thought as he strummed away softly on his Les Paul ‘58. It was one of his prized possessions and he adored it. His calloused yet surprisingly soft fingertips picked at the strings lovingly and he smiled as a soft melody surrounded him.
‘Why the hell did you kiss her?’ he asked himself, ‘you knew she’d just broken up with someone, hell you listened to enough of her conversation last night to have gathered that you asshole’ he berated himself.
‘I’ll tell you why, because you wanted to.’ a voice in his head replied.
‘I did not.’
‘don’t lie to me’
‘ok, so what if I did? I’m a man, I’m not responsible for ‘him’, you’ve watched American Pie right?’
‘You liked kissing her.’ the voice almost purred
‘Yeah, and I reiterate, I’m a man! But, you don’t go kissing someone who’s just broken up with her fiance after ten years just because you wanted to.’
‘Why not?, she liked it. Didn’t you hear that little kitten moan she gave, deep in her throat, so soft that she didn’t even know she’d done it? I know ‘he’ heard it….’
‘Stop it.’
‘Only if you admit why you kissed her.’ the voice whispered, devilishly softly.
‘Because I wanted to, and I’m the worlds biggest shit.’
Richie put the guitar down and sighed.
Monday, 9 February 2009
Chapter Nine
Richie suddenly had his arms full of warm woman as Erin came flying round the corner and nearly bowled him over. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her to steady her. He could smell her wonderful dry smoky scent and breathed in deeply, feeling the softness of her hair and body as she fitted against him. For a few seconds until his brain kicked in he felt at peace.
Erin found she had her face pressed against a broad, taut, warm chest, covered with a soft tee shirt. She could feel his muscular arms around her and sighed softly. He smelt of freshly washed clothes and sun warmed skin. For a few seconds until her klutz monitor kicked in she felt secure.
“Oh god, Richie, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” she stammered, pulling away from him.
“That’s ok darlin’ I didn’t see you either.” he smiled down at the petite woman he’d just been holding and wondered what he’d need to do to hold her again.
“I was..”
“I was…”
They both spoke at once.
Erin motioned for Richie to speak first.
“I was coming to ask if you wanted a coffee. I was on the way downstairs to get you to make some when I heard voices, figured you were on the phone and came to see if I could make you a coffee instead.”
Erin was so touched by this that she just smiled at him, at first.
“I’d love a coffee but I’ll make it for us.” she said.
“I don’t mind making it.” he countered.
“You don’t know how it works, remember?”
“Ah…good point.” he conceded, allowing her to lead him down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lesson in how to use a coffee machine.” she smiled as she walked down the stairs barefoot, her skinny jeans highlighting her slim figure, along with the baby tee she was wearing, with the slogan
‘1% Angel, 99% Power Hungry Bitch’
Richie was impressed. He’d only ever seen her in baggy jeans or sweat pants and had begun to believe she didn’t own anything more suited to showing off her curves.
He followed her into the kitchen, his eyes straying to her backside more than once.
“Ok, this is the coffee machine.” she smiled as she pointed out the black machine.
“That much I know.” he intoned, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.
“Good, then you won’t get it mixed up with the bread maker next to it and end up with a soggy loaf…” she said, dryly, smirking back at him.
Richie sniggered and moved to stand closer to her. The more he got to know her the more he was discovering her quirkiness and found himself liking it.
“Right, “ she started again, “lift this lid," she indicated a large lid atop the machine, “and place a filter paper in it, then put the coffee grounds into it.”
Richie watched as she patiently went through the motions of how to use the coffee maker, not having the heart to admit he already knew how to use it but was just too damn lazy to actually do it himself.
“Right, once you’ve added the coffee then fill up the pot with cold water and pour the water into this bit here. Put the coffee pot back onto the hot plate and switch it on. That’s it really, it’s not rocket science.” She looked up at him and grinned, a sly giggle emanating from her.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling down at her. She really was quite a short person and at 5ft 4ins meant he could rest his arm on her head, if he’d wanted too, of course.
“Oh nothing really, it’s just that if Gwen could see this she’d be totally shocked.”
“Gwen?”
“My best friend. I’ve known her for about 25 years, ever since the first year of school and she’s one of your biggest fans. If she could see me teaching you, one of her all time guitar heroes how to make fresh coffee she’d probably batter me around the head for being so cheeky and presumptuous.”
“I don’t think you’re cheeky.” he said, looking at her, thinking smiling suited her much better than crying did.
He paused, looking at the coffee pot, then looked back to her, “Does that mean you’re not one of my fans then?” he asked, grinning at her.
Erin scowled at him, knowing he’d put her in a corner.
“Erm, well…,” she prevaricated looking everywhere but at him, before looking him in the eye, “I used to like your music but was never really a fan as such. Gwen was the fan and she would drag me along to your concerts. Sorry…” she shrugged, smiling.
“Ah well, can’t win ‘em all I guess.” he laughed, “So who were you into? When you were growing up?” he asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, smelling the fresh coffee brewing.
“I was a new romantic.” she said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail and securing it with an elastic band she’d had round her wrist.
“Oh good god!” he laughed, “Don’t tell me you were into frills and pixie boots and those stupid haircuts.” he grinned, enjoying the conversation. It had been such a long time since he’d had a conversation with someone that hadn’t included how much money he’d earned over the years, or why he’d gotten divorced and he was really enjoying it and, judging by the way Erin had casually leant against the counter, she was too.
“You can talk about stupid hairstyles! I swear you used to look like you had a pineapple glued to your head, “ she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him, “and don’t even get me started on the dead badger that Alec used to model his hair on,” she scrutinised his hair and reached out to touch a silky strand, “hmm, much better.”
Erin suddenly realised how close they were to each other and the fact that she had, effectively, just run her fingers through his hair. She froze as she felt his lips brush hers. She closed her eyes and allowed his tongue to sweep over her top lip. The coffee machine beeped behind her and, her eyes flying open, she turned quickly, just about remembering to let go of his hair as she did so.
“Oh coffee’s ready.” she said in an overly bright voice to hide the tremor she felt, “I love fresh coffee, I love it’s smell and the taste, you really can’t beat the taste,” she babbled as she poured out two mugs. She picked up her mug.
“Well, I think I’ll go and watch TV. Good night.” she practically ran from the kitchen.
Richie watched her leave and picking up his mug took a sip.
“Shit.” he swore softly.
Erin found she had her face pressed against a broad, taut, warm chest, covered with a soft tee shirt. She could feel his muscular arms around her and sighed softly. He smelt of freshly washed clothes and sun warmed skin. For a few seconds until her klutz monitor kicked in she felt secure.
“Oh god, Richie, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” she stammered, pulling away from him.
“That’s ok darlin’ I didn’t see you either.” he smiled down at the petite woman he’d just been holding and wondered what he’d need to do to hold her again.
“I was..”
“I was…”
They both spoke at once.
Erin motioned for Richie to speak first.
“I was coming to ask if you wanted a coffee. I was on the way downstairs to get you to make some when I heard voices, figured you were on the phone and came to see if I could make you a coffee instead.”
Erin was so touched by this that she just smiled at him, at first.
“I’d love a coffee but I’ll make it for us.” she said.
“I don’t mind making it.” he countered.
“You don’t know how it works, remember?”
“Ah…good point.” he conceded, allowing her to lead him down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lesson in how to use a coffee machine.” she smiled as she walked down the stairs barefoot, her skinny jeans highlighting her slim figure, along with the baby tee she was wearing, with the slogan
‘1% Angel, 99% Power Hungry Bitch’
Richie was impressed. He’d only ever seen her in baggy jeans or sweat pants and had begun to believe she didn’t own anything more suited to showing off her curves.
He followed her into the kitchen, his eyes straying to her backside more than once.
“Ok, this is the coffee machine.” she smiled as she pointed out the black machine.
“That much I know.” he intoned, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.
“Good, then you won’t get it mixed up with the bread maker next to it and end up with a soggy loaf…” she said, dryly, smirking back at him.
Richie sniggered and moved to stand closer to her. The more he got to know her the more he was discovering her quirkiness and found himself liking it.
“Right, “ she started again, “lift this lid," she indicated a large lid atop the machine, “and place a filter paper in it, then put the coffee grounds into it.”
Richie watched as she patiently went through the motions of how to use the coffee maker, not having the heart to admit he already knew how to use it but was just too damn lazy to actually do it himself.
“Right, once you’ve added the coffee then fill up the pot with cold water and pour the water into this bit here. Put the coffee pot back onto the hot plate and switch it on. That’s it really, it’s not rocket science.” She looked up at him and grinned, a sly giggle emanating from her.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling down at her. She really was quite a short person and at 5ft 4ins meant he could rest his arm on her head, if he’d wanted too, of course.
“Oh nothing really, it’s just that if Gwen could see this she’d be totally shocked.”
“Gwen?”
“My best friend. I’ve known her for about 25 years, ever since the first year of school and she’s one of your biggest fans. If she could see me teaching you, one of her all time guitar heroes how to make fresh coffee she’d probably batter me around the head for being so cheeky and presumptuous.”
“I don’t think you’re cheeky.” he said, looking at her, thinking smiling suited her much better than crying did.
He paused, looking at the coffee pot, then looked back to her, “Does that mean you’re not one of my fans then?” he asked, grinning at her.
Erin scowled at him, knowing he’d put her in a corner.
“Erm, well…,” she prevaricated looking everywhere but at him, before looking him in the eye, “I used to like your music but was never really a fan as such. Gwen was the fan and she would drag me along to your concerts. Sorry…” she shrugged, smiling.
“Ah well, can’t win ‘em all I guess.” he laughed, “So who were you into? When you were growing up?” he asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, smelling the fresh coffee brewing.
“I was a new romantic.” she said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail and securing it with an elastic band she’d had round her wrist.
“Oh good god!” he laughed, “Don’t tell me you were into frills and pixie boots and those stupid haircuts.” he grinned, enjoying the conversation. It had been such a long time since he’d had a conversation with someone that hadn’t included how much money he’d earned over the years, or why he’d gotten divorced and he was really enjoying it and, judging by the way Erin had casually leant against the counter, she was too.
“You can talk about stupid hairstyles! I swear you used to look like you had a pineapple glued to your head, “ she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him, “and don’t even get me started on the dead badger that Alec used to model his hair on,” she scrutinised his hair and reached out to touch a silky strand, “hmm, much better.”
Erin suddenly realised how close they were to each other and the fact that she had, effectively, just run her fingers through his hair. She froze as she felt his lips brush hers. She closed her eyes and allowed his tongue to sweep over her top lip. The coffee machine beeped behind her and, her eyes flying open, she turned quickly, just about remembering to let go of his hair as she did so.
“Oh coffee’s ready.” she said in an overly bright voice to hide the tremor she felt, “I love fresh coffee, I love it’s smell and the taste, you really can’t beat the taste,” she babbled as she poured out two mugs. She picked up her mug.
“Well, I think I’ll go and watch TV. Good night.” she practically ran from the kitchen.
Richie watched her leave and picking up his mug took a sip.
“Shit.” he swore softly.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Chapter Eight
“He’s a nice man.”
“Nice? For fricks sake Erin he’s Richie frickin Sambora, sexiest guitar player in the whole world and all you can say is he’s nice!”
“I hardly know him Gwen, we’ve had a few chats now and then but he spends most of his time up in his study, doing whatever it is he’s doing. I just pop in there every hour or so to refresh the coffee pot, it‘s really quite boring if you want the truth.”
“Boring? How?”
“Ok, here’s my day, I get up at about 12, go downstairs in my pj’s to make lunch, he comes down about ten minutes after that and we eat. Then he goes back upstairs and I clear up. I then have a shower, sit down at the pc in my room to answer any correspondence. I then have the rest of the day to myself except for having to replenish coffee every hour or so and cooking dinner at 9pm, so I usually end up doing the garden. There that’s it, not such an exciting life after all.”
“Well no but my god, if I was living with him I’d have spy cameras installed to catch him naked!” Gwen laughed.
“Gwen! I work for him, that’s all.”
“Yeah well I still think you’re the luckiest moo ever.”
“Lucky? Who’s husband was it who surprised her with a trip to Ibiza? Even going so far as to call her boss to arrange holiday time off for her? Was that me? Oh no, I’m not married.” Erin finished sarcastically, laughing.
“Oh I know, I know, Jamie is the best, but you‘re living with one of THE sexiest men ever to grace the front page of Kerrang Magazine.”
Erin sighed, “Gwen it’s not even been two weeks since…”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry, I know how you must be feeling.”
“I miss him Gwen. I miss waking up next to him.”
“You told me he was always up and out before you woke up, that he was always at the office two hours before you got there. In fact you used to moan about it.”
“Ok, so I miss the scent of him. The anticipation of seeing him at work.”
“Come off it missy, now you’re romanticising him. He was a twat and treated you like a frickin skivvy. What kind of man asks you to marry him then waits eight years?”
“Oh Gwen, “Erin sniffed, on the verge of tears, “ what is wrong with me? Why would he do that to me? I feel like I‘ve wasted ten years of my life, and for what?”
“I told you he’s a twat, in fact I’d go as far as saying he’s a cunt.”
“Gwendolyn Evans!! Language!” Erin laughed.
“It’s not Evans anymore darling.” Gwen laughed, “Do you remember when we were at school? And we talked about what we wanted from a man?”
“Just about.”
“Do you remember what you said?” Gwen asked, trying to get Erin to see just how bad Michael had been for her.
“Yeah.”
“Well?” she said impatiently
Erin huffed, “I said I wanted someone I could curl up on the sofa with and watch crap TV with, someone who would share a big bowl of popcorn with me and not mind when I pelted the TV with it during those crap TV programmes.”
“Go on.”
“I wanted someone fun, someone who would listen to me, who would let me prattle on about whatever it was I did that day or what I’d heard. Someone who would love me for me, warts and all and not try to change me.” She sniffed again, feeling a tear run down her cheek.
“And was he like that?” Gwen asked.
“No.” Erin admitted after a pause, “he wasn’t.”
“I know you’re feeling lonely honey but you were lonely even with him.”
“I know.”
“Anyway enough of that twat, more about Richie. What’s it like living with him?
“Gwen I told you, I hardly know him. I see him when I cook lunch and dinner and when I take up coffee and then he’s usually so nose deep in writing or playing the guitar he doesn’t even notice I’m there.”
“I tell you what, ask if you can invite me over and I’ll get all his secrets from him.” Gwen laughed.
Erin looked at her watch, “Oh better go matey, I’ve got coffee to do, though it would be nice if someone would get me a coffee.” She laughed as Michael had not once in their ten year relationship ever made her a cup of coffee.
“Well you’ll have to wait till you come over here again and I’ll make you one honey.”
“I’ll hold you to that, and as for coming over here I’ll see what he says. Night darling, kiss Jamie for me.”
“Night sweetie, love you.”
“Love you too.”
Erin put the phone down and walked out of the lounge only to go slap bang into Richie.
“Nice? For fricks sake Erin he’s Richie frickin Sambora, sexiest guitar player in the whole world and all you can say is he’s nice!”
“I hardly know him Gwen, we’ve had a few chats now and then but he spends most of his time up in his study, doing whatever it is he’s doing. I just pop in there every hour or so to refresh the coffee pot, it‘s really quite boring if you want the truth.”
“Boring? How?”
“Ok, here’s my day, I get up at about 12, go downstairs in my pj’s to make lunch, he comes down about ten minutes after that and we eat. Then he goes back upstairs and I clear up. I then have a shower, sit down at the pc in my room to answer any correspondence. I then have the rest of the day to myself except for having to replenish coffee every hour or so and cooking dinner at 9pm, so I usually end up doing the garden. There that’s it, not such an exciting life after all.”
“Well no but my god, if I was living with him I’d have spy cameras installed to catch him naked!” Gwen laughed.
“Gwen! I work for him, that’s all.”
“Yeah well I still think you’re the luckiest moo ever.”
“Lucky? Who’s husband was it who surprised her with a trip to Ibiza? Even going so far as to call her boss to arrange holiday time off for her? Was that me? Oh no, I’m not married.” Erin finished sarcastically, laughing.
“Oh I know, I know, Jamie is the best, but you‘re living with one of THE sexiest men ever to grace the front page of Kerrang Magazine.”
Erin sighed, “Gwen it’s not even been two weeks since…”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry, I know how you must be feeling.”
“I miss him Gwen. I miss waking up next to him.”
“You told me he was always up and out before you woke up, that he was always at the office two hours before you got there. In fact you used to moan about it.”
“Ok, so I miss the scent of him. The anticipation of seeing him at work.”
“Come off it missy, now you’re romanticising him. He was a twat and treated you like a frickin skivvy. What kind of man asks you to marry him then waits eight years?”
“Oh Gwen, “Erin sniffed, on the verge of tears, “ what is wrong with me? Why would he do that to me? I feel like I‘ve wasted ten years of my life, and for what?”
“I told you he’s a twat, in fact I’d go as far as saying he’s a cunt.”
“Gwendolyn Evans!! Language!” Erin laughed.
“It’s not Evans anymore darling.” Gwen laughed, “Do you remember when we were at school? And we talked about what we wanted from a man?”
“Just about.”
“Do you remember what you said?” Gwen asked, trying to get Erin to see just how bad Michael had been for her.
“Yeah.”
“Well?” she said impatiently
Erin huffed, “I said I wanted someone I could curl up on the sofa with and watch crap TV with, someone who would share a big bowl of popcorn with me and not mind when I pelted the TV with it during those crap TV programmes.”
“Go on.”
“I wanted someone fun, someone who would listen to me, who would let me prattle on about whatever it was I did that day or what I’d heard. Someone who would love me for me, warts and all and not try to change me.” She sniffed again, feeling a tear run down her cheek.
“And was he like that?” Gwen asked.
“No.” Erin admitted after a pause, “he wasn’t.”
“I know you’re feeling lonely honey but you were lonely even with him.”
“I know.”
“Anyway enough of that twat, more about Richie. What’s it like living with him?
“Gwen I told you, I hardly know him. I see him when I cook lunch and dinner and when I take up coffee and then he’s usually so nose deep in writing or playing the guitar he doesn’t even notice I’m there.”
“I tell you what, ask if you can invite me over and I’ll get all his secrets from him.” Gwen laughed.
Erin looked at her watch, “Oh better go matey, I’ve got coffee to do, though it would be nice if someone would get me a coffee.” She laughed as Michael had not once in their ten year relationship ever made her a cup of coffee.
“Well you’ll have to wait till you come over here again and I’ll make you one honey.”
“I’ll hold you to that, and as for coming over here I’ll see what he says. Night darling, kiss Jamie for me.”
“Night sweetie, love you.”
“Love you too.”
Erin put the phone down and walked out of the lounge only to go slap bang into Richie.
Thursday, 29 January 2009
Chapter Seven
Richie stared at the sheet of paper in front of him. He’d been staring at it for the best part of an hour. It was still blank. He’d already written he music for it and couldn’t understand why the lyrics just weren’t flooding out. He usually found it so much easier to express his feelings through his music rather than verbally and he usually had no problem getting them firstly onto paper before enmeshing them with his music to create songs that expressed themselves with a deeper understanding into his psyche every time you heard them, but now? Zip, nada, nothing.
He wondered whether it had something to do with the fact that his divorce had just come through and he was, once again, a single man. He wondered whether his divorce had happened because he was unable express himself verbally. Shrugging he hummed the simple yet haunting melody to himself as his hand poised, wordlessly, over the pristine paper.
‘Coffee, that’ll help.’ he thought turning to look at the pot that sat on it’s own warming plate. It was empty. Erin hadn’t replaced it. He looked at the clock. She’d last been up with fresh coffee over two hours ago.
Frowning at having to interrupt his emotional thought process, he reached for the pot and made his way downstairs. He only used the elevator when he was carrying his tray of food. He’d found out the hard way that carrying a tray laden with food and coffee up two flights of stairs was synonymous with an accident waiting to happen.
He entered the kitchen to find it empty. He looked around wondering where she was. He knew she wasn’t in the lounge as he’s poked his head in on the way down.
He felt a slight warm breeze caress his skin and realised she was probably out in the garden. He made his way over to the fridge and walked down the corridor to the right of it. He passed by the utilities room and walked out the back door into the large garden. Being England the sun was shining but the temperature wasn’t scorchingly hot. He spotted Erin kneeling down by a clump of what he assumed to be weeds.
Erin turned as a shadow passed over her face to see a pair of feet. She look upwards to see Richie looking at her.
“Oh shit. Coffee. I’m so sorry I lost track of time. These weeds are all over the place and I guess I just lost in the job.”
Richie looked at her reddened eyes and thought she’d been doing a lot more than just weeding. He wondered why she’d been crying but didn’t want to push it. Instead he sat down cross legged on the grass and stretched.
“It’s ok, I’m completely stuck with work at the moment so I guess getting out in some fresh air ain’t exactly gonna kill me ya know?”
Erin smiled and went to put her trowel down.
“Oh, it’s ok, carry on with whatever it is you’re doing.” he asked, intrigued as to why someone would willingly put their hands in dirt just to pull up a few green things.
Erin turned back to the space she’d begun to clear of weeds. Gardening soothed her. It helped her forget her problems and soothed the savage beast that beat in her breast. Michael had always made sure she scrubbed her hands after gardening as he didn’t want people to think he was living with a scruffy person. He’d even bought her some top of the rang gardening gloves but she preferred to feel the earth directly.
Richie just sat and watched as she worked. He could see her nimble fingers working through the big clods of earth, breaking it up, enabling her to remove the weeds without leaving any of the roots behind.
Deftly she threw the weeds into a pile and lovingly tended to the flowers and shrubs.
Richie stretched out onto his side and smiled. He’d never met a woman before who loved getting covered in dirt. Every one he’d ever met, on a non fan basis, would run a mile before pulling a weed from a garden that wasn’t even hers.
Erin sat back on her haunches and sighed. She’d been out in the garden for over three hours and her back was beginning to ache, however the borders were looking so much better. She reached around for her bottle of water and took a long drink.
“Does that feel better?”
She jumped, having forgotten he was there, and water dribbled down her chin and soaked her tee shirt, which was already wringing with sweat.
“I’d forgotten you were there. I get so in the zone when I’m doing this, a nuclear bomb could go off and I wouldn’t notice.2 she said, wiping her forehead.
“Hmm, I bet you would.” he grinned. She had a smudge on her cheek and another on her forehead and her hair was in a messy ponytail which all combined to make her look adorable.
“Yeah, eventually I guess.” she laughed, “when the flowers all died from the radiation fallout.” She sat down onto the grass and stretched her legs out, feeling the sore muscles protesting.
“Have you been interested in gardening long?” he asked, not at all worried about getting back to his blank paper.
“Not really, I used to have a back garden and developed a love of it after I moved in and found a jungle. It took me six months to clear it all. Michael would just sit indoors and watch me. After I’d cleared it all I realised that I love gardening, but then, when we split I lost the garden.” She smiled but Richie noticed the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
They sat together in the garden companionably. As Erin got up to go make some coffee, Richie vowed he was going to find out what was making her cry. If he couldn’t compose he’d start prying instead. With that thought in mind, he smiled, closed his eyes and lay back on the grass, enjoying the sunshine.
He wondered whether it had something to do with the fact that his divorce had just come through and he was, once again, a single man. He wondered whether his divorce had happened because he was unable express himself verbally. Shrugging he hummed the simple yet haunting melody to himself as his hand poised, wordlessly, over the pristine paper.
‘Coffee, that’ll help.’ he thought turning to look at the pot that sat on it’s own warming plate. It was empty. Erin hadn’t replaced it. He looked at the clock. She’d last been up with fresh coffee over two hours ago.
Frowning at having to interrupt his emotional thought process, he reached for the pot and made his way downstairs. He only used the elevator when he was carrying his tray of food. He’d found out the hard way that carrying a tray laden with food and coffee up two flights of stairs was synonymous with an accident waiting to happen.
He entered the kitchen to find it empty. He looked around wondering where she was. He knew she wasn’t in the lounge as he’s poked his head in on the way down.
He felt a slight warm breeze caress his skin and realised she was probably out in the garden. He made his way over to the fridge and walked down the corridor to the right of it. He passed by the utilities room and walked out the back door into the large garden. Being England the sun was shining but the temperature wasn’t scorchingly hot. He spotted Erin kneeling down by a clump of what he assumed to be weeds.
Erin turned as a shadow passed over her face to see a pair of feet. She look upwards to see Richie looking at her.
“Oh shit. Coffee. I’m so sorry I lost track of time. These weeds are all over the place and I guess I just lost in the job.”
Richie looked at her reddened eyes and thought she’d been doing a lot more than just weeding. He wondered why she’d been crying but didn’t want to push it. Instead he sat down cross legged on the grass and stretched.
“It’s ok, I’m completely stuck with work at the moment so I guess getting out in some fresh air ain’t exactly gonna kill me ya know?”
Erin smiled and went to put her trowel down.
“Oh, it’s ok, carry on with whatever it is you’re doing.” he asked, intrigued as to why someone would willingly put their hands in dirt just to pull up a few green things.
Erin turned back to the space she’d begun to clear of weeds. Gardening soothed her. It helped her forget her problems and soothed the savage beast that beat in her breast. Michael had always made sure she scrubbed her hands after gardening as he didn’t want people to think he was living with a scruffy person. He’d even bought her some top of the rang gardening gloves but she preferred to feel the earth directly.
Richie just sat and watched as she worked. He could see her nimble fingers working through the big clods of earth, breaking it up, enabling her to remove the weeds without leaving any of the roots behind.
Deftly she threw the weeds into a pile and lovingly tended to the flowers and shrubs.
Richie stretched out onto his side and smiled. He’d never met a woman before who loved getting covered in dirt. Every one he’d ever met, on a non fan basis, would run a mile before pulling a weed from a garden that wasn’t even hers.
Erin sat back on her haunches and sighed. She’d been out in the garden for over three hours and her back was beginning to ache, however the borders were looking so much better. She reached around for her bottle of water and took a long drink.
“Does that feel better?”
She jumped, having forgotten he was there, and water dribbled down her chin and soaked her tee shirt, which was already wringing with sweat.
“I’d forgotten you were there. I get so in the zone when I’m doing this, a nuclear bomb could go off and I wouldn’t notice.2 she said, wiping her forehead.
“Hmm, I bet you would.” he grinned. She had a smudge on her cheek and another on her forehead and her hair was in a messy ponytail which all combined to make her look adorable.
“Yeah, eventually I guess.” she laughed, “when the flowers all died from the radiation fallout.” She sat down onto the grass and stretched her legs out, feeling the sore muscles protesting.
“Have you been interested in gardening long?” he asked, not at all worried about getting back to his blank paper.
“Not really, I used to have a back garden and developed a love of it after I moved in and found a jungle. It took me six months to clear it all. Michael would just sit indoors and watch me. After I’d cleared it all I realised that I love gardening, but then, when we split I lost the garden.” She smiled but Richie noticed the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
They sat together in the garden companionably. As Erin got up to go make some coffee, Richie vowed he was going to find out what was making her cry. If he couldn’t compose he’d start prying instead. With that thought in mind, he smiled, closed his eyes and lay back on the grass, enjoying the sunshine.
Wednesday, 28 January 2009
Chapter Six
Erin ladled chicken curry onto two plates and carried them over to the table, placing them next to an opened bottle of red wine.
She had been working for Richie for just under a week and had quickly settled into his routine. It had taken a couple of days to get used to it as he usually rose at midday, completely ravenous. The first day she rose as normal and was up and dressed by 8am. She’d gone down to kitchen and had started breakfast and coffee and had waited..and waited…and waited. Finally she’d had to throw the breakfast out and had sat in the lounge, watching daytime TV, waiting for Richie to wake up. He’d stumbled past the lounge at around midday and had looked at her as if to say, ‘why aren’t you cooking for me?’.
After he’d eaten he’d told her his daily routine and had asked her to be on hand for those hours. For someone who rose at 7am and was fast asleep by 10:30pm, having to switch to night time hours was hard and the first night she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. Richie had come downstairs for more coffee and had just covered her with a blanket. When it happened again the second night he woke her up and presented her with an empty coffee pot and a smile.
Erin had gotten into a routine of cooking lunch at around 1pm and dinner at around 9pm. Richie had agreed to this and generally made it down to the kitchen in time.
Erin placed his plate on a tray with a mug of coffee and sat down to eat her dinner. She looked up to see him walking in. His hair was all over the place and he was wearing an old pair of sweatpants with a ripped AC/DC tee shirt and was barefoot.
She smiled as he walked towards the table, fully expecting him to pick up his tray and take it upstairs via the hidden elevator she’d discovered on her second day.
It was situated to the left of the staircase and she’d only really discovered it when Richie had stepped out of it, scaring her half to death. He’d explained that the previous owner of the house had lived there for over 50 years with his wife and had it installed when she’d become wheelchair bound. It was only big enough for one wheelchair or two standing people and ran on the smoothest and quietest system she’d ever heard.
Erin turned back to her food and was quite surprised when, instead of taking the tray, he sat down opposite her and began to eat. She’d become quite used to eating alone but was glad of the company.
“This is lovely, did you make it yourself? Or is it out of a tin?” he asked
“Oh I made it myself. The sauce is shop bought though. I can cook basic foodstuffs but Indian cookery is not my forte.” she replied.
“I can burn water.” he replied, grinning as he shovelled the chicken and rice mixture into his mouth.
She laughed at the idea that someone was so useless a cook that ingredients would hide from him. She could imagine packets squealing and trying to hide behind tins when he opened the cupboards.
“Yeah, but then again I can’t play the guitar.” she said
“Good point, but isn’t everyone supposed to be able to at least make toast?” he asked.
“No, not really. I can only cook through trial and error. I used to try new dishes on my ex and watch his face as to whether it was any good. I gave up trying to create new things after I nearly killed him with an overload of curry powder!” she laughed.
The forkload of food halted in midair as he looked at her suspiciously.
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly ok. I‘ll show you the bottle it came out of if you want.” she giggled.
Richie smiled and ate the forkful.
After he’d eaten his fill he sat back with a contented sigh.
“You know I get so involved with what I’m doing that I forget what the time is. I’ve had to set an alarm to remind me to come down for food. Oh I meant to see you to say thanks for the ever ready coffee and apologise for not really being around for your first week. You know writing an album is like making a baby. It takes a lot of effort cause you want everything to be perfect and then when it’s finally done or born, you can’t quite believe you had anything to do with it as it’s just so perfect, then come the sleepless nights as you worry about it, is it going to sell, will people like it, ya know? And I get so wrapped up in it that time slips away. So anyway, how has your first week been? I know there isn’t a lot of actual PA work to do at the moment but I promise you there will be.”
Erin was taken aback as it was the longest speech he’d given since she’d moved in. She had already come to the conclusion that she wouldn’t get to see much of him over the next six months and was bracing herself for a solitary existence.
“It’s been fine, I love the garden so I’ve spent some time out there. The flower borders are fantastic but needed weeding so I did a bit of that, I hope you don’t mind. The PA stuff takes me about an hour and a half which pretty much leaves me the rest of the day, except for dinner and making coffee every hour or so.”
“I will have some paperwork for you to deal with soon, and some letters to type up and send out. Stupidly I’d already agreed to going along to some charity events parties and I need you to arrange that for me.”
“Do you not like partying then?” she asked, surprised.
“Hell yes, when it’s the right kinda party but I’m not Jon, I can’t go along and make small talk to people who bore the fuckin tits off me ya know, all in the name of making contacts. Jon? He’s the fucking master at doing that. The only one I’ve really enjoyed is the Habitat for Humanity which we got involved in to help build new homes for the victims of Hurricane Katrina, but having to talk to some heavily made up Lady wotsit or Lord hoohaa? Christ it’s a cure for insomnia.”
Erin laughed, she liked this side of Richie, the honest, funny side. She’d almost forgotten what he’d been like when she’d first turned up.
“I know what you mean, my ex is a lawyer and every few months I’d have to get dressed up and go make meaningless small talk all to help him get noticed by the big bosses. You tend to develop a meaningless smile that you plaster on your face and I don’t know about you, but I’d end up with this massive ache across my mouth when I got home and sometimes it felt like the smile was frozen.”
“Oh yeah, when you’ve been photographed as many times as I have the aching face is nothing. Wait till you’ve had to hold a position for so long that your limbs have gone to sleep. That happened once and I went to walk and fell over, my foot was completely asleep. Jon nearly bust a gut laughing at me, bastard!” Richie laughed, completely relaxed.
It was weird, but he really felt he could talk to Erin. After the really bad first impressions he’d got he’d expected her to be a complete klutz but she wasn’t that bad. No coffee mishaps in over a week. Things were looking up. Plus she was easy on the eye, even if she did wear shapeless clothes that hid her figure.
He put his coffee mug down and smiled. "Oh well I'd best get back up there. I'll see you later. Thanks for dinner." he said as he got up and exited the kitchen.
She had been working for Richie for just under a week and had quickly settled into his routine. It had taken a couple of days to get used to it as he usually rose at midday, completely ravenous. The first day she rose as normal and was up and dressed by 8am. She’d gone down to kitchen and had started breakfast and coffee and had waited..and waited…and waited. Finally she’d had to throw the breakfast out and had sat in the lounge, watching daytime TV, waiting for Richie to wake up. He’d stumbled past the lounge at around midday and had looked at her as if to say, ‘why aren’t you cooking for me?’.
After he’d eaten he’d told her his daily routine and had asked her to be on hand for those hours. For someone who rose at 7am and was fast asleep by 10:30pm, having to switch to night time hours was hard and the first night she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. Richie had come downstairs for more coffee and had just covered her with a blanket. When it happened again the second night he woke her up and presented her with an empty coffee pot and a smile.
Erin had gotten into a routine of cooking lunch at around 1pm and dinner at around 9pm. Richie had agreed to this and generally made it down to the kitchen in time.
Erin placed his plate on a tray with a mug of coffee and sat down to eat her dinner. She looked up to see him walking in. His hair was all over the place and he was wearing an old pair of sweatpants with a ripped AC/DC tee shirt and was barefoot.
She smiled as he walked towards the table, fully expecting him to pick up his tray and take it upstairs via the hidden elevator she’d discovered on her second day.
It was situated to the left of the staircase and she’d only really discovered it when Richie had stepped out of it, scaring her half to death. He’d explained that the previous owner of the house had lived there for over 50 years with his wife and had it installed when she’d become wheelchair bound. It was only big enough for one wheelchair or two standing people and ran on the smoothest and quietest system she’d ever heard.
Erin turned back to her food and was quite surprised when, instead of taking the tray, he sat down opposite her and began to eat. She’d become quite used to eating alone but was glad of the company.
“This is lovely, did you make it yourself? Or is it out of a tin?” he asked
“Oh I made it myself. The sauce is shop bought though. I can cook basic foodstuffs but Indian cookery is not my forte.” she replied.
“I can burn water.” he replied, grinning as he shovelled the chicken and rice mixture into his mouth.
She laughed at the idea that someone was so useless a cook that ingredients would hide from him. She could imagine packets squealing and trying to hide behind tins when he opened the cupboards.
“Yeah, but then again I can’t play the guitar.” she said
“Good point, but isn’t everyone supposed to be able to at least make toast?” he asked.
“No, not really. I can only cook through trial and error. I used to try new dishes on my ex and watch his face as to whether it was any good. I gave up trying to create new things after I nearly killed him with an overload of curry powder!” she laughed.
The forkload of food halted in midair as he looked at her suspiciously.
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly ok. I‘ll show you the bottle it came out of if you want.” she giggled.
Richie smiled and ate the forkful.
After he’d eaten his fill he sat back with a contented sigh.
“You know I get so involved with what I’m doing that I forget what the time is. I’ve had to set an alarm to remind me to come down for food. Oh I meant to see you to say thanks for the ever ready coffee and apologise for not really being around for your first week. You know writing an album is like making a baby. It takes a lot of effort cause you want everything to be perfect and then when it’s finally done or born, you can’t quite believe you had anything to do with it as it’s just so perfect, then come the sleepless nights as you worry about it, is it going to sell, will people like it, ya know? And I get so wrapped up in it that time slips away. So anyway, how has your first week been? I know there isn’t a lot of actual PA work to do at the moment but I promise you there will be.”
Erin was taken aback as it was the longest speech he’d given since she’d moved in. She had already come to the conclusion that she wouldn’t get to see much of him over the next six months and was bracing herself for a solitary existence.
“It’s been fine, I love the garden so I’ve spent some time out there. The flower borders are fantastic but needed weeding so I did a bit of that, I hope you don’t mind. The PA stuff takes me about an hour and a half which pretty much leaves me the rest of the day, except for dinner and making coffee every hour or so.”
“I will have some paperwork for you to deal with soon, and some letters to type up and send out. Stupidly I’d already agreed to going along to some charity events parties and I need you to arrange that for me.”
“Do you not like partying then?” she asked, surprised.
“Hell yes, when it’s the right kinda party but I’m not Jon, I can’t go along and make small talk to people who bore the fuckin tits off me ya know, all in the name of making contacts. Jon? He’s the fucking master at doing that. The only one I’ve really enjoyed is the Habitat for Humanity which we got involved in to help build new homes for the victims of Hurricane Katrina, but having to talk to some heavily made up Lady wotsit or Lord hoohaa? Christ it’s a cure for insomnia.”
Erin laughed, she liked this side of Richie, the honest, funny side. She’d almost forgotten what he’d been like when she’d first turned up.
“I know what you mean, my ex is a lawyer and every few months I’d have to get dressed up and go make meaningless small talk all to help him get noticed by the big bosses. You tend to develop a meaningless smile that you plaster on your face and I don’t know about you, but I’d end up with this massive ache across my mouth when I got home and sometimes it felt like the smile was frozen.”
“Oh yeah, when you’ve been photographed as many times as I have the aching face is nothing. Wait till you’ve had to hold a position for so long that your limbs have gone to sleep. That happened once and I went to walk and fell over, my foot was completely asleep. Jon nearly bust a gut laughing at me, bastard!” Richie laughed, completely relaxed.
It was weird, but he really felt he could talk to Erin. After the really bad first impressions he’d got he’d expected her to be a complete klutz but she wasn’t that bad. No coffee mishaps in over a week. Things were looking up. Plus she was easy on the eye, even if she did wear shapeless clothes that hid her figure.
He put his coffee mug down and smiled. "Oh well I'd best get back up there. I'll see you later. Thanks for dinner." he said as he got up and exited the kitchen.
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Chapter Five
Erin placed two mugs of fresh hot coffee down on the battered, scarred, wooden table and sat down.
Richie took his coffee and put it out of her reach.
She smiled, wanly, “Would you believe I am not normally like this? In fact I’ve never been this much of a klutz in all my life.”
“Must be meeting me then.” he said, softly as he blew on the hot drink to cool it slightly.
She smiled, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his full lips pursed, blowing cool air across his coffee. She shook her head to clear any impending naughty thoughts about her soon to be ex employer and turned to her own drink.
“Must be.” she said quietly before taking a sip of the heavenly brew. It was a hazelnut cinnamon blend and tasted absolutely divine on her tongue.
“Oh god that’s good.” she said, placing the mug down on the table.
“It’s my own blend.”
“You blend your own coffee?” she asked, intrigued.
“God no,” he laughed, a rich smoky laugh, ”No, I have someone back home make it up for me. I was thinking of marketing it but I’ve been told it’s an acquired taste.”
“My ex said the same about me.” Erin said without thinking, “Oh god sorry, forget I said that.” she uttered, as she looked at him.
Richie raised an eyebrow.
“I just meant that I have these quirks about me that he said not everyone would appreciate.. And…oh god, is this day never going to end?” with an embarrassed sigh she laid her head down on the table, narrowly missing her own mug of coffee, and groaned, “Someone just shoot me now”.
Richie looked at her for the longest time, feeling the ghost of a smile playing with his lips, his mouth twitched as he tried to keep it in but it was just too much. He tipped his head back and let out a huge belly laugh.
Erin just groaned further and covered her head with her hands, feeling the chignon start to come loose. She deftly pulled the pins out and ran her hands through her tired scalp, hoping her hair would completely cover her red face.
Richie could feel tears rolling down his face as he got, what is commonly referred to as ‘The Giggles‘, and once he’d started he found he couldn’t stop.
Erin lifted her head off the table and watched, bemused, as the handsome man across from her, with the gorgeous eyes but quick temper, was reduced to a child. She looked at him with such a look of puzzlement that it set him off again on a wave of hysterical laughter.
Finally, when he was able to calm down enough to speak, he looked at her and said simply “Welcome to the Mad House.”
“You’re keeping me on?”
“Hell yes darlin, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” he grinned, wondering just what the hell he was in for letting her stay, “On one condition though. Don’t wear your hair up, let it loose. It suits you more.,” and looking at her bemused face, he got up, “And now if you will excuse me I really need to get back to some writing, or this day’ll just go to shit. The bedrooms and bathroom are on the third floor. Mine’s the untidy one. My study is on the second floor and the lounge is on the first floor. These houses may be old and exclusive but they are laid out in a really shit way.” he finished, walking out of the kitchen, leaving her sat there drinking coffee and wondering if she should order the straight jacket now, or wait a bit.
Richie took his coffee and put it out of her reach.
She smiled, wanly, “Would you believe I am not normally like this? In fact I’ve never been this much of a klutz in all my life.”
“Must be meeting me then.” he said, softly as he blew on the hot drink to cool it slightly.
She smiled, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his full lips pursed, blowing cool air across his coffee. She shook her head to clear any impending naughty thoughts about her soon to be ex employer and turned to her own drink.
“Must be.” she said quietly before taking a sip of the heavenly brew. It was a hazelnut cinnamon blend and tasted absolutely divine on her tongue.
“Oh god that’s good.” she said, placing the mug down on the table.
“It’s my own blend.”
“You blend your own coffee?” she asked, intrigued.
“God no,” he laughed, a rich smoky laugh, ”No, I have someone back home make it up for me. I was thinking of marketing it but I’ve been told it’s an acquired taste.”
“My ex said the same about me.” Erin said without thinking, “Oh god sorry, forget I said that.” she uttered, as she looked at him.
Richie raised an eyebrow.
“I just meant that I have these quirks about me that he said not everyone would appreciate.. And…oh god, is this day never going to end?” with an embarrassed sigh she laid her head down on the table, narrowly missing her own mug of coffee, and groaned, “Someone just shoot me now”.
Richie looked at her for the longest time, feeling the ghost of a smile playing with his lips, his mouth twitched as he tried to keep it in but it was just too much. He tipped his head back and let out a huge belly laugh.
Erin just groaned further and covered her head with her hands, feeling the chignon start to come loose. She deftly pulled the pins out and ran her hands through her tired scalp, hoping her hair would completely cover her red face.
Richie could feel tears rolling down his face as he got, what is commonly referred to as ‘The Giggles‘, and once he’d started he found he couldn’t stop.
Erin lifted her head off the table and watched, bemused, as the handsome man across from her, with the gorgeous eyes but quick temper, was reduced to a child. She looked at him with such a look of puzzlement that it set him off again on a wave of hysterical laughter.
Finally, when he was able to calm down enough to speak, he looked at her and said simply “Welcome to the Mad House.”
“You’re keeping me on?”
“Hell yes darlin, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” he grinned, wondering just what the hell he was in for letting her stay, “On one condition though. Don’t wear your hair up, let it loose. It suits you more.,” and looking at her bemused face, he got up, “And now if you will excuse me I really need to get back to some writing, or this day’ll just go to shit. The bedrooms and bathroom are on the third floor. Mine’s the untidy one. My study is on the second floor and the lounge is on the first floor. These houses may be old and exclusive but they are laid out in a really shit way.” he finished, walking out of the kitchen, leaving her sat there drinking coffee and wondering if she should order the straight jacket now, or wait a bit.
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
‘oh crap.’ Erin thought as she looked into the handsome but red cheeked face of the man she’d knocked over in the record store a few days previously. She looked at him as he struggled, unsuccessfully to get his annoyance under control.
“What the fuck? Did you follow me here? Not content with trying to smash my brains in or scald me with coffee, you’re now trying to choke me to death? What is it with you and coffee?” he ranted at her.
Erin took a step back, easier now she was wearing flatties, and smoothed her suit down. Putting a smile on her face, she bravely stuck out a hand.
“Mr Sambora, my name is Erin Matthews and I’ve been hired by, “ she wrestled a piece of paper from her pocket, “TBJ Management as a live in PA and, er, cook.”
Richie stopped his ranting and took a long hard look at the woman in front of him. Ignoring her outstretched hand he stalked past her and into the hallway.
Erin’s smile faltered as she watched him walk out. She had the feeling that this was going to be the shortest job she’d ever had. She could hear him shouting out in the hallway and, knowing that she’d have to go that way to leave, she walked towards it.
“…that fucking crazy woman I told you about! The one who tried to brain me after dousing me with hot coffee…..no I’m not!…..she just tried to choke me to death with another cup of coffee…..fuck it man!…..yeah? I don’t need food that bad!…..what the fuck do you mean there’s no one else willing to live in?, don’t they know it’s me? Oh pull your own head outta your own ass!! She’s a fucking moron, I’m telling you!” Richie caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Erin standing in the archway, totally stricken, her face flushed.
‘shit!’ he swore under his breath, “Yeah yeah I hear ya bro. yeah and fuck you too!” with a crash he hung up the phone and turned to Erin who was just staring at him.
For the longest time they just stared at each other. Richie took in the elegant chignon and the grey trouser suit and swore under his breath again.
Finally Erin’s nerve broke and she moved towards her suitcase.
“I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. If you could just move a little,” she started as she managed to ram her suitcase into his bare foot,” I’ll be on my way.”
By now she was having trouble seeing as she was blinded by a film of tears. It was bad enough that Richie thought she was a complete moron and klutz, but what was worse was the feeling that she’d let herself down. How was she going to explain this to Gwen and Jamie?
She wrestled with the large, cumbersome case and as one of it’s wheels got caught up in a free-standing coat rack she just stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.
“Fuck it!” she cried out, feeling an errant tear slip down her face. First Michael, now this?
Bending down she tried to prise the wheel out of the wooden arch it was trapped in but to no avail.
“Oh fuck it.” She said, softly as she just stared at the case, “Not you too.” she muttered to the black material covered case.
Richie watched as she struggled, unsuccessfully, with her case. He could see she was getting more and more irate with it but his foot hurt, dammit, and he had no intention of helping her. Until he saw the tear fall down her soft face.
“Hey, hey, stop, stop, you’re going to either injure yourself or break my coat rack. So let’s go back into the kitchen and start again. I would offer you coffee but a) I have no idea how to work the damn machine and b) I’m kinda afraid you’ll use it to kill me or at the very least injure me in someway.” He smiled at her and held his hand out.
Erin looked up at him and huffed, momentarily, before allowing him to pull her to her feet. She followed him back into the kitchen and proceeded to make some fresh coffee.
‘oh crap.’ Erin thought as she looked into the handsome but red cheeked face of the man she’d knocked over in the record store a few days previously. She looked at him as he struggled, unsuccessfully to get his annoyance under control.
“What the fuck? Did you follow me here? Not content with trying to smash my brains in or scald me with coffee, you’re now trying to choke me to death? What is it with you and coffee?” he ranted at her.
Erin took a step back, easier now she was wearing flatties, and smoothed her suit down. Putting a smile on her face, she bravely stuck out a hand.
“Mr Sambora, my name is Erin Matthews and I’ve been hired by, “ she wrestled a piece of paper from her pocket, “TBJ Management as a live in PA and, er, cook.”
Richie stopped his ranting and took a long hard look at the woman in front of him. Ignoring her outstretched hand he stalked past her and into the hallway.
Erin’s smile faltered as she watched him walk out. She had the feeling that this was going to be the shortest job she’d ever had. She could hear him shouting out in the hallway and, knowing that she’d have to go that way to leave, she walked towards it.
“…that fucking crazy woman I told you about! The one who tried to brain me after dousing me with hot coffee…..no I’m not!…..she just tried to choke me to death with another cup of coffee…..fuck it man!…..yeah? I don’t need food that bad!…..what the fuck do you mean there’s no one else willing to live in?, don’t they know it’s me? Oh pull your own head outta your own ass!! She’s a fucking moron, I’m telling you!” Richie caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Erin standing in the archway, totally stricken, her face flushed.
‘shit!’ he swore under his breath, “Yeah yeah I hear ya bro. yeah and fuck you too!” with a crash he hung up the phone and turned to Erin who was just staring at him.
For the longest time they just stared at each other. Richie took in the elegant chignon and the grey trouser suit and swore under his breath again.
Finally Erin’s nerve broke and she moved towards her suitcase.
“I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. If you could just move a little,” she started as she managed to ram her suitcase into his bare foot,” I’ll be on my way.”
By now she was having trouble seeing as she was blinded by a film of tears. It was bad enough that Richie thought she was a complete moron and klutz, but what was worse was the feeling that she’d let herself down. How was she going to explain this to Gwen and Jamie?
She wrestled with the large, cumbersome case and as one of it’s wheels got caught up in a free-standing coat rack she just stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.
“Fuck it!” she cried out, feeling an errant tear slip down her face. First Michael, now this?
Bending down she tried to prise the wheel out of the wooden arch it was trapped in but to no avail.
“Oh fuck it.” She said, softly as she just stared at the case, “Not you too.” she muttered to the black material covered case.
Richie watched as she struggled, unsuccessfully, with her case. He could see she was getting more and more irate with it but his foot hurt, dammit, and he had no intention of helping her. Until he saw the tear fall down her soft face.
“Hey, hey, stop, stop, you’re going to either injure yourself or break my coat rack. So let’s go back into the kitchen and start again. I would offer you coffee but a) I have no idea how to work the damn machine and b) I’m kinda afraid you’ll use it to kill me or at the very least injure me in someway.” He smiled at her and held his hand out.
Erin looked up at him and huffed, momentarily, before allowing him to pull her to her feet. She followed him back into the kitchen and proceeded to make some fresh coffee.
Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Richie scrunched his nose up as the smell of burning toast wafted through the kitchen.
‘God I could even burn water.’ he thought as he gingerly pulled the blackened bread from out of the toaster and dropped them in the bin.
His stomach rumbled and he wondered, for a moment, whether sending Anna back to the states had been such a good idea. Yes, she was brainless and would’ve been too much of a temptation but she could at least make him some toast without burning it. He shook his head. Nah, she was just too brainless, even for him, and by god he’d dated some of the most brainless yet beautiful women in the world. He sniggered. Who the hell needed brains with tits that size?
Sighing he picked up two fresh pieces of bread and put them in the toaster, carefully turning the level down in the hope that they wouldn’t burn.
“Ok Richie I’m outta here, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
Jon walked into the kitchen and laughed at the sight of his usually finely groomed best friend wearing a cooks apron and looking completely frazzled.
“Oh man, you are totally useless in the kitchen aren’t ya?”
“Jon, make me some toast please? I’m starving and can’t get this fucking thing to work.” he whined plaintively as his stomach gave a huge rumble.
With a huge sigh Jon walked over to the toaster and checked the settings before getting out a frying pan and checking the fridge for eggs and bacon. It was worth it just for the look of pure undying gratitude on his friend’s face.
Within a few minutes Richie was sat at the large kitchen table, munching happily on expertly cooked eggs, bacon, beans and toast with a huge mug of fresh coffee by the plate.
“Richie, enjoy.” Jon said with a smile, “I gotta go. Have fun bro, email Dot with any queries as you know I’m fuckin useless on those things, or call me. No, no don’t get up, not that ya would anyway, I’ll let myself out, Paul’s outside to pick me up.”
Richie waved at him, his mouth full of crispy bacon and hot egg yolk and a happy smile on his face.
Jon just hoped that the PA the Agency were sending over knew how to cook or there was going to be a lot less of his best friend to go around.
Erin stood outside the imposing black front door, checked her reflection in a small mirror to make sure her hair was still in the chignon Gwen had done earlier that morning, and reached out to ring the doorbell just as the front door opened.
“Er hi, I’m Erin, I’m from the Agency.” she said, looking up at the thin but well built blonde man in front of her, motioning towards her suitcase. She turned back to him, wondering why he looked familiar in his tight jeans, black bomber jacket and sunglasses.
“Oh hi, I’m Jon and I’m leaving. The guy you want is in there. Have fun, and I sure hope you can cook.”
With that he swept past her and entered a black car parked on the kerbside.
Erin looked around for a few moments and then pulled her suitcase in to the hallway. There was a staircase in front of her and an archway to the right of it. She sniffed, she could smell fried breakfast and deciding that the kitchen was through the archway, she left her suitcase in the narrow, high ceilinged hallway and walked through the archway.
“Hello?” she called out as she walked through the archway into a corridor, “I’m Erin, from the Agency.”
She rounded a small corner and walked into a large but cosy kitchen, dominated by a huge kitchen table in the middle of it.
A familiar looking man sat at the table, his eyes closed in what looked like utter bliss as he ate the last bite of what appeared to be toast.
Erin stood in the doorway, uncertain as to what she should do. She’d called out but he obviously hadn’t heard her. She stood and looked around the kitchen, taking in the beautiful top of the range Aga and the huge American style fridge. The kitchen was painted a muted terracotta colour with Spanish accent tiles dotted in amongst the white splash back tiles.
Feeling completely out of place as the man at the table picked up his mug and drank deeply from it, his eyes still closed, she walked over to him, her footsteps muffled by a large rug, and tapped him on the shoulder.
Richie’s eyes flew open as he felt someone tap him. He choked on the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken and looked at the person standing in front of him, he backed away from the table as he suddenly couldn‘t breathe and wild eyed, motioned for her to help him.
“Oh shit.” Erin muttered as she slapped the man hard on the back to try and help him stop choking. She hoped it would work as she really didn’t want to try and do the Heimlich Manoeuvre on him as he looked really buff.
Richie breathed hard as air flowed back into his lungs. Jesus fucking H Christ! What the fuck? Dimly he remembered something Jon had told him about having a PA/cook come and live in with him to take care of him. He sank back into the seat and finally looked up,
“YOU!!”
Richie scrunched his nose up as the smell of burning toast wafted through the kitchen.
‘God I could even burn water.’ he thought as he gingerly pulled the blackened bread from out of the toaster and dropped them in the bin.
His stomach rumbled and he wondered, for a moment, whether sending Anna back to the states had been such a good idea. Yes, she was brainless and would’ve been too much of a temptation but she could at least make him some toast without burning it. He shook his head. Nah, she was just too brainless, even for him, and by god he’d dated some of the most brainless yet beautiful women in the world. He sniggered. Who the hell needed brains with tits that size?
Sighing he picked up two fresh pieces of bread and put them in the toaster, carefully turning the level down in the hope that they wouldn’t burn.
“Ok Richie I’m outta here, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
Jon walked into the kitchen and laughed at the sight of his usually finely groomed best friend wearing a cooks apron and looking completely frazzled.
“Oh man, you are totally useless in the kitchen aren’t ya?”
“Jon, make me some toast please? I’m starving and can’t get this fucking thing to work.” he whined plaintively as his stomach gave a huge rumble.
With a huge sigh Jon walked over to the toaster and checked the settings before getting out a frying pan and checking the fridge for eggs and bacon. It was worth it just for the look of pure undying gratitude on his friend’s face.
Within a few minutes Richie was sat at the large kitchen table, munching happily on expertly cooked eggs, bacon, beans and toast with a huge mug of fresh coffee by the plate.
“Richie, enjoy.” Jon said with a smile, “I gotta go. Have fun bro, email Dot with any queries as you know I’m fuckin useless on those things, or call me. No, no don’t get up, not that ya would anyway, I’ll let myself out, Paul’s outside to pick me up.”
Richie waved at him, his mouth full of crispy bacon and hot egg yolk and a happy smile on his face.
Jon just hoped that the PA the Agency were sending over knew how to cook or there was going to be a lot less of his best friend to go around.
Erin stood outside the imposing black front door, checked her reflection in a small mirror to make sure her hair was still in the chignon Gwen had done earlier that morning, and reached out to ring the doorbell just as the front door opened.
“Er hi, I’m Erin, I’m from the Agency.” she said, looking up at the thin but well built blonde man in front of her, motioning towards her suitcase. She turned back to him, wondering why he looked familiar in his tight jeans, black bomber jacket and sunglasses.
“Oh hi, I’m Jon and I’m leaving. The guy you want is in there. Have fun, and I sure hope you can cook.”
With that he swept past her and entered a black car parked on the kerbside.
Erin looked around for a few moments and then pulled her suitcase in to the hallway. There was a staircase in front of her and an archway to the right of it. She sniffed, she could smell fried breakfast and deciding that the kitchen was through the archway, she left her suitcase in the narrow, high ceilinged hallway and walked through the archway.
“Hello?” she called out as she walked through the archway into a corridor, “I’m Erin, from the Agency.”
She rounded a small corner and walked into a large but cosy kitchen, dominated by a huge kitchen table in the middle of it.
A familiar looking man sat at the table, his eyes closed in what looked like utter bliss as he ate the last bite of what appeared to be toast.
Erin stood in the doorway, uncertain as to what she should do. She’d called out but he obviously hadn’t heard her. She stood and looked around the kitchen, taking in the beautiful top of the range Aga and the huge American style fridge. The kitchen was painted a muted terracotta colour with Spanish accent tiles dotted in amongst the white splash back tiles.
Feeling completely out of place as the man at the table picked up his mug and drank deeply from it, his eyes still closed, she walked over to him, her footsteps muffled by a large rug, and tapped him on the shoulder.
Richie’s eyes flew open as he felt someone tap him. He choked on the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken and looked at the person standing in front of him, he backed away from the table as he suddenly couldn‘t breathe and wild eyed, motioned for her to help him.
“Oh shit.” Erin muttered as she slapped the man hard on the back to try and help him stop choking. She hoped it would work as she really didn’t want to try and do the Heimlich Manoeuvre on him as he looked really buff.
Richie breathed hard as air flowed back into his lungs. Jesus fucking H Christ! What the fuck? Dimly he remembered something Jon had told him about having a PA/cook come and live in with him to take care of him. He sank back into the seat and finally looked up,
“YOU!!”
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