SMOKE & MIRRORS

 

“Mike! Open up. It’s me, Viv… Please. I know you’re in there, open the door.”

I knock again loudly, press the doorbell, then I flip open the letterbox to look inside.

I know he’s in there, I can hear someone moving about but he’s ignoring me. Not an unreasonable response considering my boyfriend has just beaten the crap out of him.

“Please, Mike. Let me in. I’m so sorry, please!”

I hear the lock turning but as the door opens just a few inches, I see the door chain has been engaged. He doesn’t trust me, and who could blame him?

“Mike. Please. Open the door.”

The door closes, the chain is removed, and when the door opens again, Michelle stands there scowling at me, blocking the way. I’d forgotten she would be here.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

“Michelle, please, I just want to talk to him. How is he?”

She gives me a filthy look. “What do you care?”

“For fuck’s sake. I just want to talk to him.” Barging past her, she yelps, trying to stop me but I push her back and march in.

“Fuck.” A stupid thing to say, but I’m so shocked when I see Mike’s battered and bruised face, I’m lost for words. I can’t stop staring at him.

He’s lying on the couch, his eyes are bruised and swollen, there’s a bleeding gash on his left eyebrow and a cut on his lips. He looks so sorry for himself, and his right arm is clamped across his body, protecting his ribs.

“Jesus, Mike. Who did this to you?” I hope and pray it wasn’t Max, but I’m not surprised when he looks at me in utter disgust, spitting out the words I’d feared the most.

“Your fucking boyfriend.”

My heart sinks as bile rises in my throat. “I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know what else to say. In the back of my mind, I wonder if he’s going to call the police to report the assault. Max would deserve that. He’s done a terrible thing.

Mike looks so pitiful. I still care about him as a friend and it crushes me to see him like this because of me. He doesn’t deserve this and I’m responsible. How could Max be so stupid. Fucking caveman!

“Mike, I—”

Michelle marches over, screaming in my face. “You tell your fucking boyfriend to leave him alone. He had nothing to do with trashing your place! Now, fuck off!”

Dragging me by the arm, she throws me out, then the door slams shut in my face.

My phone rings. Stumbling backward, I return to my bike taking my phone out of my pocket.

I’m too angry to talk to Max right now. Especially since I’ve witnessed what he did to Mike, he’s got some explaining to do. But when I check the screen, I’m surprised to see it’s not him calling, it’s Jan.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Vivienne. Are you okay? I was so worried about you. Did Monica do something to upset you?” Her voice is nervous and edgy.

“No. No more than usual. Look, I can’t talk about it now, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Yes, of course, sorry.”

Something in her voice has me worried. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid Monica’s discharged me. She threw my handbag at me and told me to leave, shortly after you did.”

My hackles rise. “What the…? She can’t do that.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure Mr. Foxx will sort it out when he gets home. If you need me, Vivienne, for anything, please call me. Anytime.”

Jan’s kindness warms my heart. “Yeah, you too. Speak to you tomorrow.”

What the fuck is Monica up to?

It pisses me off that I’m wasting time worrying about what Monica is up to, when I’m still trying to get my head around what Max has been up to.

Where to now? I don’t want to go back to F1. I need to be somewhere familiar. I’m going home.

There’s no one hanging around as I pull up outside my building. It’s only as I enter my flat that I remember I’ve absolutely nothing in the fridge and I’m gasping for a glass of wine to calm my nerves.

I can’t be bothered to go out again so I put the kettle on for a cup of coffee but when I open the fridge, I realise I haven’t got any milk either so it’ll have to be a black coffee. I hate black coffee. Tonight just gets better and better, doesn’t it?

My phone vibrates in my pocket, it’s Max.

I wondered when I’d hear from him, but I’m not prepared to have this argument now. I need to be by myself for a while. Turning my phone off, I throw it on the side, letting it go to answer-phone. He’s the last person I want to talk to right now.

Making myself comfy, I flick through the channels of my new television. Finding a bland music channel, I lay my head back and shuffle through the many things whirling around in my brain.

“Viv! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Luce. You startled me.”

She’s standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in her hand wearing a very questionable pair of pyjamas. “Did I interrupt your game?”

“What? Oh.” Lowering the bat to her side, she wanders in. “I heard someone in your flat, I wasn’t expecting it to be you. What’s the matter? Why are you here?”

I let out a weary sigh. “It’s a long story, and you know what long stories need…”

“I’m on it. Back in a mo.” Turning on her heel, she hurries down to her flat for a bottle of wine.

It takes almost the whole bottle of wine to fill Lucy in on all the latest dramas. Luckily she had the foresight to bring two. It’s just like old times, sitting here chit-chatting till the early hours.

Lucy’s as shocked as I was to learn that it was Max who’d attacked Mike.

“You know I don’t particularly like Mike, but Dan reckons it was a pretty ferocious beating, and if Mike didn’t trash your place then I suppose he didn’t deserve to get his arse kicked.” She tops up both our glasses. “But, if he didn’t do it, then who did? And more importantly, why?”

“Good question…The who? I think was Monica. The why? I think is Max. She’s still in love with him and wants him back. It would appear, I’m in the way.”

Lucy frowns. “Got any proof?”

I shrug, shaking my head. “Absolutely none. But there’s something fundamentally twisted about that woman. I don’t trust her any further than I could chuck her.”

“Yeah, she sounds like a crazy, fucked-up nut job.”

We both sigh at the same time, then Lucy gives me the eyebrow.

“But crazy or not, she’s managed to get you and Jan out of the house, so now she’s got Max all to herself. Sounds like a clever fucked-up nut job to me.”

I scowl at the prospect, but she’s right. Monica has Max all to herself now. Probably her plan from the start.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Shrugging, I let out a long sigh of defeat. I feel so numb and empty.

“Fuck knows. I can’t go back to Max. Not after what he did to Mike, and especially not while the psycho-bitch is living there.”

“And what about Charlie? From what you’ve told me, do you think he’s safe with her?”

Nervous butterflies fill my stomach as I look Lucy squarely in the eyes. “I really don’t know. And today, I thought I saw a needle mark on his arm.”

We both stare at each other for a moment.

“Does Max know about that?”

“No. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I’m too angry to deal with him right now.”

A light knocking on my door startles us.

“Shit. Do you think that’s Max?” Lucy whispers.

“Well, if it is, he can go fuck himself.”

I grumble under my breath all the way to the door then look through the spy-hole. It’s John, a.k.a. Chuckles, my second least favourite person in the world right now.

I’d been expecting someone to turn up once Max had failed to contact me on my phone. I’m sure Chuckles was delighted to get the job.

“What do you want?” I don’t even try to disguise my irritation.

He looks pissed off and agitated. “Miss Banks? Mr. Foxx asked me to collect you and take you home.”

Huffing out a sarcastic laugh, I roll my eyes. “I am home. Tell Mr. Foxx I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”

John shuffles on his feet then looks up at the spy-hole. I flinch, I know he can’t see me, but still.

“Miss Banks, he wants you to call him straight away. He’s worried for your safety.”

I’m sick of all this bullshit. “I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey, John, but I’m staying here. As I said, I’ll call Mr. Foxx when I’m good and ready. Now, if you don’t mind….”

John mutters something to himself. He has a deep set frown on his disgruntled face. I’m sure all this babysitting is way beneath him. “Fine.” Clearly in a huff, he turns on his heel and walks away.

Lucy waits for me to join her. “Who was that?”

“One of my bodyguards.”

“Oooh, get you, Lady Banks.” She giggles, I start to giggle too. It does sound rather ridiculous.

“When did my life become so weird?”

Lucy eyes me knowingly. “The day you fell in love with a sexy billionaire. Admit it, Viv. You still love the guy.”

I do love Max, of course I do. I don’t even have any control over that. I love the kind, funny, caring Max. The man who works tirelessly for worthy causes. The man who wants the best for everyone he cares about. Whose smile takes my breath away, whose touch makes my skin tingle with anticipation. The man who blows me away with every kiss.

But, the secretive Max who lies and goes behind my back to harm the people I care about? I don’t love him.

Lucy yawns, then finishes the last of her wine. “Hey, I tried calling you earlier but your phone was off, has your battery run out?”

“No, Max was driving me nuts so I turned it off.” I yawn myself. It’s been a long, weird, fucked-up day.

Dragging herself up to her feet, she leans in for a hug. “I don’t know about you but I’m pooped, I’m off to bed. Will you be okay? I can stay if you like?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning. And thanks for the wine.”

“No worries. Sleep tight.”

We hug it out and after she leaves, I double lock the door.

It’s quite nice being back in my old flat. Everything here is normal, comfortable, and well…me.

Everywhere is so clean and tidy too. The new carpet has brightened the place up, and the new flat screen t.v. is much bigger than the old one I had. A kind and generous gesture from Max after my flat had been ransacked. Just one of many nice things he’s done for me. But he’s managed to spoil it all with one act of violence and deceit. That really burns. How can I trust him now?

I pop the glasses into the sink and pick up my phone. Switching it back on, I set it to silent.

There are lots more missed calls and texts from Max, but he’ll have to wait. No doubt Vinnie has filled him in on my hasty exit from the penthouse. Jan’s bound to have told him what happened tonight. Poor Jan, I feel sorry for leaving her.

It must be killing Max that he can’t get hold of me, but I’m too angry to deal with him verbally right now. On impulse, I text him. Why should I be the only one having a rough night?

I know it was you who hurt Mike.

I can’t trust you if you’re going

to go behind my back and lie to my face.

Don’t call me anymore.

As I send my message, my heart sinks. This relationship of ours is hopeless. It’s been doomed from the beginning. I should walk away and never look back.

As I lay on my bed, thumping my pillow into shape, my phone vibrates on the bedside table, it’s Max. I knew it would be. Throwing it back on the table, I bury my head under my pillow and cry myself to sleep…