Romance In Paradise. Sarah Mayberry
was the perfect end to a long and terrible evening.
* * *
‘Where’s Noah?’ Riley asked, dumping her files on the coffee table in Morgan’s lounge. Sinking to the silk carpet, Riley took a grateful sip from the glass of white wine Morgan handed her.
After nearly a week of living together, in the non-biblical sense, Noah had finally realised that she was safe alone in the apartment by herself, and every day after work he left her to make use of the state-of-the-art gym and indoor swimming pool within the apartment block, Morgan explained.
‘So, how does it feel to be living with a man?’ Riley asked, kicking off her heels and crossing her legs.
Morgan sat down on the edge of the couch opposite her and half shrugged. ‘Weird, actually.’
‘And are you still in separate beds?’
Morgan glared at her. ‘What do you think?’
‘Judging by that killer look, I’d say your hormones are on a constant low simmer.’
‘You should know,’ Morgan replied.
As Riley was the only person outside of her family who knew about her dyslexia, Morgan was the only person who knew that Riley had fallen in love with James at first sight and had never quite managed to tumble out of it. She covered her feelings towards him by acting like a diva artist whenever he was around.
‘He wants me to do an underwater theme for the windows next month,’ Riley grumbled, reading her thoughts.
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s just been scuba diving in Belize and was “blown away” by the coral reefs. I told him that I needed personal experience to do a theme like that.’
Knowing that would never have been the end of their conversation, Morgan tipped her head. ‘And he said what in reply?’
‘He used that super-sarcastic tone of his and said...’ Riley tossed her bright red hair and lowered her voice. ‘“Then why don’t I just take you with me next time?”’
‘Jeez, I just wish you and James would get your stuff together, find a room, get it on and then get on with living happily ever after.’
‘Like he’s ever going to see me as anything other than your best friend.’ Riley tapped her nail against her glass. ‘Oh, wait—are you talking about us or about you and Noah?’
‘Both of us. Although that won’t happen to Noah and I.’
‘Why not?’
‘This thing between us is purely physical, Ri. We don’t discuss anything personal.’
‘Why not?’ Riley repeated.
Morgan shrugged.
‘Don’t want to venture further down the rabbit hole?’ Riley asked.
Morgan looked up at the ceiling.
‘I think he might be the one guy who’d understand the dyslexia, Morgs.’
‘I doubt it,’ Morgan replied, leaning back and putting her feet up on the coffee table. ‘He’s a perfectionist: highly driven and ambitious. Besides, Noah and I...it would be just about sex—about this crazy chemical reaction we have to each other.’
‘You like each other.’
‘We don’t know each other.’ Morgan took a huge sip of wine and rested the glass against her cheek. ‘Anyway, I’m not looking for a relationship with Noah. Sex—yes...have you seen that body?’
‘Shallow as a puddle.’ Riley grinned before leaning back on her hands. ‘To be honest, I think you don’t tell the guys you date about the dyslexia because you hope they’ll bail.’
‘Oh, come on!’
‘Oh, you so do. How many times have you met a nice guy? You date and then you sleep together. Things go really well until he starts picking up that things are a bit off. That you don’t write down a message properly or you get the directions to a restaurant wrong. You don’t explain and you retreat.’
‘I don’t do that,’ she protested, even though she knew she did.
Riley gave her a hard look. ‘Noah isn’t like that, Morgan. He wouldn’t hold the dyslexia against you.’
‘Back away, Ri,’ Morgan warned. ‘Nobody understands until they have to live with me. You know what I’m like. Sometimes the reading is easy; other days I can barely read my own name. I would drive him crazy in six months. I’m inconsistent, and that’s annoying and confusing. Some days I can take on the world; sometimes I can’t even read simple instructions. I hate those black holes, and if I find them difficult to deal with how would my lover feel?’
‘You should at least respect them enough to give them a chance to try.’
‘I respect myself too much to be constantly putting my heart out there to possibly be broken,’ Morgan retorted.
‘Are you feeling comfortable in your little self-protected world?’ Riley asked sweetly.
‘Yes, thank you very much! The world expects something from “the Moreau heiress” and being chronically dyslexic isn’t part of the package.’
Riley mimed playing the violin and Morgan threw a cushion at her head. Riley groaned as it hit her wine glass and wine splashed all over the table.
Noah walked in through the front door as the wine glass fractured and broke. He looked from Riley to the broken glass and back to the spilt wine before finally looking at Morgan. ‘Duchess; are you throwing a temper tantrum because another of your subjects has disagreed with you?’
After ordering pizza from their favourite pizzeria Morgan called James, checked that he was home and told him to come down and share their meal. He arrived with two bottles of her favourite wine: a Merlot from their winery in Stellenbosch.
‘One for you and one for Riley, my two favourite wine-o-holics,’ he said, depositing them on the kitchen counter. ‘Hey, Ri.’
‘James.’
James yanked open a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew. ‘Started on the designs for my underwater window yet?’
‘Yeah, I’ve scheduled it in for...never. Does that work for you?’ Riley replied as she opened a cupboard door and took out four glasses.
‘You do remember that I sign your paycheque, don’t you?’ James retorted.
‘Then fire me; I’ll pick up a job with Saks or Bergdorfs with one phone call. And they’ll double my salary,’ Riley replied in the same genial tone. ‘Actually, why don’t you double my salary and I’ll consider staying?’
‘Okay, I’ll schedule that in for...never. Does that work for you?’ James dumped some wine into her glass and handed it over. ‘Cheers.’
‘Bite me.’ Riley took the glass and stomped over to the lounge, resuming her seat on the floor next to the coffee table.
Morgan rolled her eyes at Noah, who was sitting at the dining room table, his laptop in front of him, a glass of whisky at his elbow. He was dressed in battered faded jeans and a casual cotton shirt and his feet were bare. Sure, he was a sexy man, but he was also a man who didn’t hold a grudge. They’d had a rocky day or two following her outburst at the ball and now they were back to being friends.
But it would be so much more fun if he was hanging around because he wasn’t being paid to do so.
‘Is anyone doing anything about finding those kidnappers?’ she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at James.
‘Only the NYPD,