Chapter 4: A bridge to Burn

I faced the ceiling as I lay flat on the freshly made-up bed, twirling locks of my hair into knots. I had learnt from Nolan on the car ride to the hotel that Mr Handsome was really Declan Waters and he was the owner of a property development company, Waters Developments. This man didn’t need me for my father’s money. He was worth billions. Not glitter, I guess. Then that meant our conversation at the bar was genuine. I had his number now. Would he have gone through his phone and deleted mine? I bit into my nail, then stopped. Yuck, that tasted gross. Stupid stop and grow! I pulled my phone off the charger and unlocked it to a hoard of notifications. 17 emails, 25 missed calls, eight missed Facetime calls, 103 Whatsapp messages and 15 text messages. All in half an hour. I looked for the one name I wanted to see. But his name wasn’t there. I’d saved Mr Handsome’s number to my phone under Declan Handsome Waters, the minute after Nolan confirmed that Declan was in fact telling me the truth about his identity. I swiped off all the other notifications and turned off my phone. Nolan was standing outside my hotel room. If anyone needed me, they could go through Mr Stalker. It hadn’t even been a full minute that my phone had been switched off and there was a knock on the door.

“What?” I shouted.

“Miss Baker, dinner.” Nolan called and opened the door instantly.

“You can’t just come in like that.” I shouted.

“Sorry, Miss Baker. Your phone is off.” He said, justifying his mannerless actions. I knew he had created and installed an app on his and my phones to trace exactly where I was, when my phone moved out of a signalled area, or was on low battery, or switched off and on, or anything else that would be of concern to my father.

“Yes.” I sighed. “For good.” I dropped my phone into the jug of icy water on the coffee table.

“Miss Baker?!” Nolan retreated my phone. He had most assuredly had enough of my childish behaviour. But since I was being stalked by him, he deserved it. “I’ll arrange for a replacement while this is being repaired.”

“Sure. Make sure Father pays for it. Shouldn’t come out of your salary.” I said, looking at the menu he had placed on the table. “I want to go out. I’m getting changed.” I pushed Nolan out of the room and pulled out a hoodie and joggers from my backpack and got changed.

“I want to go home. I need some stuff.” I said. Father had the nerve to put me in this hotel while my building’s security system was being upgraded, thanks to Mr Stalker.

“It’s a couple days, you won’t need…” Nolan tried to finish his sentence, but my eyes pierced through him and probably cut an artery. He stepped back. “When shall we go?”

“Now.” I smiled. “Why is the building’s security system being changed?”

Nolan walked beside me. He was my best friend and more often than not, he forgot that. I took his arm and placed it around my shoulder. If he was walking with me, he could pretend to be my boyfriend for the day. Nolan was six foot and four inches tall. He had broad shoulders, tight muscles and a chest that could hide me entirely. I knew he was strong enough to lift me effortlessly, even now, while I weighed 143 pounds. He’d been carrying me out of clubs and bars when I weighed more than that.

“I asked, why is the…?”

“Because I found an issue with their software.” Nolan said, not letting me finish my sentence.

“What issue?” We were at the car and Nolan went to open the back door for me. I shook my head and looked into Nolan’s eyes, dreamily. “Tell me why you went to Scotland, right now.”

“Miss Baker, we need to go. There’s a group of photographers standing at the corner of the street and they’ll catch up to us in a few long strides.” Nolan explained calmly. I was sure his answer to my two simple questions would have been shorter.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you left me for three days, without any explanation.” I said, shouting the last three words, drawing attention to us.

“Miss Baker, I’ll explain when we’re in the car and driving.” Nolan slid me out of the way and opened the rear passenger door.

“Nope. Not until you tell me.” I stayed put and crossed my arms at my chest. “Are the security thing and you flying off to Scotland the same deal?”

“No, Miss Baker. But you need to get in now. They’re going to bombard you with questions about that Stint case.” His voiced lowered and became almost demanding.

“Stint case?”

“Simon Stint.”

“Case? Against Simon Never-Gonna-See-Again? What did you do, Stalker?”

“As per your orders, I dropped the charges of sexual harassment. Now, please, Miss Baker, get in.”

“Do you love me, Nolan Stalker?” I asked, smiling, teasing, flirting, all of the above.

“Miss Baker, please get into the car.”

“Not until you tell me if you love me or not.”

Nolan sighed and pulled me against the cold metal of the car towards the open door. “Please, Felicity Baker, get in the car, now.”

I smiled and did what he asked.  I knew I drove him crazy and I loved each minute of it. Getting nothing out of him in response made me want to do it all the more. Before he could get to the driver’s seat, I climbed into the front and buckled myself into the passenger seat. Nolan had only ever called me Felicity on three occasions before today.

The first was when he promised me that I could face any challenge that this world threw my way. I had cried all the way home because I was bullied during the first term back at school after my kidnapping. Nolan held my hand and assured me that I would overcome every obstacle that I would come across. He said; Felicity Baker is a force that can change the course of the sun. Such lies he was capable of, that I didn’t even want to hear anything more than his sweet-talking for every day until I turned 18. Since then, Mr Stalker became Nolan to me.

The second time was the day before my 18^th birthday, when everything changed between us. I had gotten drunk on two Pornstar Martinis. I’d learnt my limits that day. But not just about alcohol. Nolan was standing at the bar, probably making sure my drinks weren’t being spiked. I’d been dancing with a few school girlfriends and we had gotten in with fake IDs. While we were huddling, two guys approached our group. There were six of us and Nolan stayed on the side lines. One boy – he was most definitely not a man, not like Nolan – approached me and tried to grope my breast. I pushed him away and moments later, he was on the floor and had had his eye sealed shut. Nolan’s right hand was bleeding and we excused ourselves from the party. I pushed him into the back of his then Mercedes and got in after him. I was 18, well in a few hours I would have been. I’d never been kissed before. I’d seen this man defend me so many times. I’d heard him say things to me that sounded more romantic than anything out of movies and books. I also had feelings, urges, needs. I was horny. I mounted him and took his hand and placed it on my breast. He retreated. I tried again. He pulled back. I leaned into him and said I loved him and kissed him on his lips. His eyes closed and he froze. He didn’t kiss me back and his hands stayed pinned to his sides until I moaned his name into his lips. I felt his hands wrap my waist and his tongue darted into my mouth. He took control and twisted me under him. I started to unbutton his shirt and moaned more into his giving mouth. Nolan’s hands pushed up against my back and hooked under my bra through the thick fabric of my Chanel dress. I reached into his trousers from the top and couldn’t get in as his belt was too tight. I undid his belt and trouser button and then his zipper. I’d never done anything like this but it felt instinctual. I stroked his hard length through his boxers. Nolan was still kissing me, desperately. I tried to grip his hard circumference in my small dainty hands and failed. I pulled away from our kiss, not wanting to, but I needed to see what I was doing wrong. Both of us were breathless. I momentarily locked eyes with him. I was smiling, he was not. I went to touch him again but his hands grabbed both my wrists and he pushed himself off of me then rolled on the side and did up his trousers quicker than I took them off. He looked disgusted and stepped outside of the vehicle as soon as he was dressed again. His heavy breathing hadn’t subsided and neither had the hardness in his pants gone down when I stepped out. I looked at him and smiled. I wanted that to be real. I wanted that disgust on his face to be because he tasted something horrible on my breath or hurt his head or foot or something or other when he was on top of me. But he didn’t smile back. He turned away for a brief moment and then looked back at me and moved his perfect green eyes from my face to the floor.

I felt heartbroken. That was clear rejection. I stormed out of the carpark and back into the club. Nolan followed. He pulled me out of the crowd, wiped my tears and smiled at me. For the first time since meeting him, I saw him smile. He whispered in my ears words that still haunt me today; You’re perfect Felicity Baker. But I’m not the one for you. I wished that was wrong for such a long time. Nolan had told Father about the incident that night. He’d also told him about our kiss and my touching him. I had overheard everything through the closed doors of Father’s office. I thought Father would have fired Nolan and I cried myself to sleep when Nolan didn’t come up to say good night like he had done for the past three and a half years. I woke up with the worst headache ever. Mixing alcohol and crying and a heartbreak wasn’t fun. Lesson learnt. I joined Father at breakfast and asked about Nolan. Father assured me that Nolan was still on his payroll. I didn’t see him until later that night. Nolan came to my room in a tuxedo and not only did he look smart as ever, but he also looked like the most handsome man I could possibly lay my eyes on. I’d worn a black evening gown and was due to attend my 18^th birthday party in the ballroom of Baker Manor. Nolan took my hand and escorted me down. All he said to me that entire day was the few words that came out of his mouth in a hushed whisper, right before he walked me into the ballroom that evening, ‘happy 18^th birthday, Miss Baker’.

Nolan parked outside our building. Yes, he lived with me in the spare room of our two-bed flat in Mayfair that Father had brought us, well me. I still never asked Father why Nolan wasn’t fired for what happened the night before my 18^th birthday. I knew Stalker had spoken the whole truth about everything that had happened that night. But I didn’t dare to bring it up myself. Nolan turned off the car, got out and rounded to my door. He escorted me upstairs and both, he and I, packed our bags for the next few days. He still hadn’t told me why he had gone to Scotland and what he had found wrong with the security system. I’d get it out of him.

“Stalker?” I called as I perched on the side of my bed.

Nolan pushed the door and stepped inside. “Ready?”

“Yes.” I said, pointing to my backpack on the middle of my bed. I knew I could carry it but I wanted Nolan to. He had flung his backpack over one shoulder and put mine over his other shoulder. “My legs hurt.” Lies. He knew. “I can’t walk anymore.”

“We can wait, Miss Baker.” Nolan said, taking several steps backwards until he stood exactly two feet away from the door. This man had walked the entire building – I kid you not – blind folded, with music blaring from noise cancelling earphones, when we moved in about two years ago. He traced each and every step from memory. He knew the ins and outs of this building better than what was on his phone. He installed his own patented security software to our flat which complemented the building’s existing system. Nolan had engineered the entire system himself and Father helped him set up the business while I helped him name it – well, I named it – Stalker’s Eye. For the past two years, he had been in constant talks with the building manager to upgrade their system to his. He worked security like no one else. He was perfect at his job. And I was his job.

“Carry me?” I said, completely maliciously. I licked my lips and dug my teeth into my bottom lip, taking a longer than normal blink and tilting my head to the side after moving my hair from the would-be-exposed neck area.

Nolan shifted on the spot and put my backpack down. He pushed his arm through the second strap of his backpack and then carried mine around his elbow and stepped forward.

“Are you ready?” I asked, as seductively as I could.

“Yes, Miss Baker.” Nolan lifted me off the bed and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Mind your head.” He walked out of my room, turned and pulled the door shut, setting the alarm. Yes, we had alarms inside the house too. I saw from my easily scannable position that he had already closed the shared bathroom, his bedroom, and the utility room’s doors and armed them. The green light above each door was indicative of that.

“Wait!” I said squirming against him. “The balcony.”

“Shit!” Nolan put me down and rushed to set the balcony alarm. “Fuck! How could I have forgotten?” He muttered to himself.

“Sorry, Nolan. That was probably my fault.” It was definitely my fault. If I hadn’t tried to distract him, he would have done his checks as always. I didn’t think it made a difference and should have probably kept my mouth shut. We were in Mayfair. No one was breaking into our third floor flat through our balcony. I had basically thrown an anvil on my own foot. I waited at the door as Nolan retraced his steps and now double checked his and my rooms for their respective window alarms. They were armed. Nolan wasn’t careless. He was a perfectionist.

I heard his phone go off. He looked at the screen, transfixed on it for five seconds, before answering. “Mr Baker.” Nolan returned to my side. “Yes, she’s here. Her phone fell into water. We’re heading out for dinner as she’s hungry and will…” Nolan paused for about 30 seconds. “Yes, Mr Baker.” He said, disappointedly, then turned to face me and handed me his phone. “Miss Baker, your father.”

“Hello Father.” I said, trying to study Nolan’s face at the same time.

“Felicity, why did you run away from Corey?” Father asked.

“I wanted to.” It was the truth.

“Don’t do that again.” Father waited for some acknowledgement.

“Did you fire him?” I asked.

“He’s not on my payroll.” Father said.

“Don’t, it wasn’t his fault.” Well, actually his entire job was to make sure he kept an eye on me. If I had swapped a jacket with another woman whilst in the ladies room and then sneaked passed him, that was more his fault than mine, right?

“Felicity, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you.” Father said, huffing.

“When has anything ever happened to me except that one time, Father?” I shouted. “I’m a grown woman and can take care of myself. I don’t need babysitters watching over my every move. Nothing will happen. Nothing has happened. I’m fed up of this now. I’ve lived with it for 10 annoying years. I’m sure by now something would have gone wrong if it was going to.”

“What happened to your phone?” Father asked, changing the subject. I looked at Nolan. He always lied for me because I sucked at it.

“Nolan did it.” I smiled and handed the phone back to Nolan, on speaker, who stared blankly at me.

“Mr Baker?” Nolan said, holding the phone to face the ceiling.

“Nothing, Nolan. I know she probably threw her phone or something, she’s just an overgrown child…” Father continued his rant as Nolan turned off speaker and put his phone to his ear.

It was a full minute before Nolan responded with a short single-worded acknowledgement then put the phone down. He looked at me like he had just come home from war. I sucked my lips in and tried to hide the obvious smile that was perking up the corners of my mouth.

“Shall we go, Miss Baker?” Nolan asked. I nodded. I was hungry. I needed food, fast. This time, I walked out behind Nolan and he held my hand. He didn’t question anything and guided me to the front passenger seat. I obliged.

The third time Nolan called me Felicity was on the afternoon that my first and only boyfriend broke up with me. It was late spring and I sat under the tree where we were having a picnic. Nolan, as always, was around but almost out of sight. Mr Needy Scumbag and I had been on nine dates, over the course of nine weeks. We were exclusively dating and he and I had exchanged several valuable gifts. He had given me diamond earrings on our first month anniversary and a Michael Kors watch for our second. I was living off Father’s money then and had gifted Mr Scumbag a Play Station on the first month and Rolex watch for the second. I was a fool. That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more valuables and more from me physically. He wanted to do more than kissing that afternoon. When I said I wasn’t ready, he threw apart the picnic I had set out and said I was a ‘spoilt brat’ and I should ‘live in a castle with that fucking bodyguard and rich stuck-up father’. He then took his gifted watch off of my wrist and earrings from my ears and walked off, swearing and cussing.

Nolan had re-arranged the picnic and sat with me that afternoon. He spoke to me as though I was really his girlfriend. He didn’t smile or touch me or try to kiss me or even look into my eyes for more than one second every three or four minutes. But in his messed-up way, he fixed my broken heart and proceeded to smash it up all over again, with his perfect words; We’ll find the right man for you, Felicity Baker. I’m sure of it. I was 20 at the time and it was during the second year of my university degree but after that, I gave up on everything to do with dating and relationships. I supplemented my English degree from Cambridge University with a Masters, in Creative Writing, from Oxford University. Nolan followed me wherever I went. He was my shadow. My best friend. He knew all my secrets and I knew nothing about him except what Father knew. In fact, I knew less than what Father knew. I didn’t get close to boys after Mr Needy Scumbag. Nolan was all the man I needed. Combining him with a few random dates, here and there, were enough to keep my fantasies going. I’d kiss them and pretend it was him. I’d let them touch me as Nolan stood on guard, facing away, but close enough that I could hear his breathing elevate in line with every one of my moans. I teased him more than I knew was good for either of us. I knew I’d fallen in love with him. He was inconveniently convenient. Available and accessible but couldn’t be further from my reach.

Nolan drove me to MacDonalds. We sat on the same table and he pretended to be my something while I stuffed my face with chips and a burger. Damn it. I should have finished that burger that Mr Handsome got me. It tasted way better than this. I pushed my plate to Nolan.

“Are you done?” He asked. He didn’t call me miss, Miss Baker, or anything that would remotely reference that he was not actually with me at places like this. Especially when he was pretending to be my something or other.

I sat there, ignoring him. I wanted to know more about Declan Waters. Why did he think I was spoilt? “Why does Declan Waters think I am a spoilt brat, Nolan?”

“He didn’t say spoilt brat. He said spoilt hedge fund girl.” Nolan said, without thinking.

“You were listening in on our conversation?” I snapped, standing up and patting myself to find whatever device he had planted on me. I knew I had changed my clothes but I wanted to make a point of my discontent.

“There’s nothing on you.” He said, standing up and taking my hand. “Come with me.”

“What the hell? Stalker?” I said, a little louder than I should have, causing heads to turn at the fast-food place.

Nolan escorted me outside and opened the door to his Range Rover. “Miss Baker, I was listening and watching through the bar’s security cameras. It is required by Mr Baker, while you are on a first date or in the company of an unvetted stranger, that I keep a close eye on everything that is going on.”“What the hell?” That was too much. First of all, I wasn’t on a first date. Secondly, Mr Handsome didn’t need to be vetted. “Take me to Father’s. That’s the final straw. I’ve had it with the pair of you. I’ve got a bridge to burn.”