Dirty Diana by January James
Chapter Twenty-Four
Iclimbed out of the cab, with Sheridan and Carlos following close behind, and stood on the sidewalk staring up at Jude’s house. It was a brownstone. The whole house was his.
“Breaking up companies and selling them off must be one hell of a lucrative business to be in,” Carlos said, as Sheridan let out a long whistle.
“He’s a keeper,” Sheridan added.
“It’s not like that,” I said, shooting them both a look. “There’s too much at stake now. There’s nothing between us. Not that there was ever much to begin with.”
“Oh, ok, so he goes around holding the hands of all his VPs does he?” Carlos raised an eyebrow. I jerked my head towards the door.
“Come on, we’ve got a lot to do.”
I pressed the doorbell and swallowed back my surprise at the fact it was opened by a housekeeper—a middle-aged, kind and efficient-looking woman.
“Come in, come in,” she said, ushering us through and clearly loving the fact she was indirectly involved in some soon-to-be-famous music industry battle. “Mr. Peyton-Harris has had the two reception rooms arranged into offices for you.”
I could feel Carlos’ eyebrows reach his hairline. “Thank you, er….”
“Jenny,” she smiled, then she leaned in a little closer. “I don’t suppose Diana will be here soon, will she?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but was quickly shut down when Carlos’ foot met with my ankle.
“She was right behind us,” he answered. “Why?”
“Oh, no matter,” Jenny waved her hand. “I’m just anxious to meet her. Ju… Mr. Peyton-Harris, speaks about her a lot, and I understand she’s finally going to be moving in. He’s had me prepare a room and fetch flowers especially. I think he’s more excited about that than running this record business, to be honest,” she giggled and I fought the blush that was threatening to creep up my cheeks.
“That’s wonderful, Jenny,” Carlos smiled, sweetly. “I think she’s secretly more excited about that too.”
I spun around to glare at him, only to be met with a look of feigned innocence and the suppression of a giant smirk.
“Come on,” Sheridan said, taking hold of my arm. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
She tugged me through the enormous hallway into the first reception room and I couldn’t help but gasp. It was the size of my entire apartment. Tables lined the outer edges of the room and brand new MacBooks sat atop them, alongside fresh pitchers of water and crystal glasses. I noticed the décor was fairly plain—pale cream walls and mahogany detailing. The ceilings were high with an intricate cornice in the center and around the edges. A handful of contemporary paintings hung around the walls, but other than that, there was nothing to suggest this was the home of an actual person. Perhaps an anonymous hotel somewhere, but not a home.
I sat at the first table and booted up the laptop. Then, when a few more entered, we stood and exchanged a few words about how excited, slash petrified, slash fired-up we all were, before settling down again to set up Google alerts. I needed to know exactly what was being said about Phoenix, about me and my acts, by whom and when. The noise reduced to a low hum as the room filled up and people got straight down to business, contacting the acts, their managers, any studios we’d booked, promo appearances we’d scheduled. I was knee-deep in a list of radio stations across the country we could beg for airplay when he called my name.
I looked up to see Jude standing somewhat uncomfortably in the middle of his own drawing room, watching teams of people punching their keyboards, their cell phones stuck to their ears.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
I smiled, ignoring the few pairs of eyes that were following our every move—Carlos and Sheridan’s included. I followed Jude out of the room into the hallway, then past the staircase into a kitchen that stretched across the whole back of the house.
“I just wanted to show you around, quickly,” he said, sounding a little apologetic. “I’m sorry I didn’t really talk to you about that.”
“There was no ‘really’ about it. You didn’t talk to me at all,” I smiled. “But it’s ok. I’m here now.”
The relief on his face was obvious. “Good, because I’ve got people packing your stuff at Sheridan’s. It’ll be here within the hour.”
“You move quickly,” I noted.
“I have to. We’re under immense time pressure now,” he said, pointing to a row of cupboards. “Everything you’d want to eat is in there. If there’s something you’d like and we don’t have it, just write it down for Jenny.”
“Time pressure,” I repeated. “Is that why you asked me to move in?”
He was walking back out of the kitchen when he stopped and turned to face me.
“No. You know it isn’t. But if this is what it takes to get you to realize I want you in my life, no matter what, and your safety is important to me, then this is what I’ll do. Come on. Let me show you your room, then you’re free to get back to work.”
I followed him up the wide staircase, stunned that a staircase this wide even existed in Manhattan. Real estate was so expensive I was sure someone else would have attempted to build another house on the staircase plot, were it to be moved. He walked quickly, showing me each room. He had a study, a library, and a large bathroom in addition to six en-suite bedrooms.
“Here,” he said, nodding through the doorway of a large room overlooking the back of the house. It was quiet and serene, and beautifully made up. I could smell the flowers Jenny had arranged especially, before my eyes located them. The room was white—white walls, white carpeted floor—with pieces of dark, antique wooden furniture dotted around, including a stunning four poster bed. The curtains were also white and flowed from side to side with the breeze from the window. “This is your room. I hope it’s ok.”
I swallowed. “It’s gorgeous,” I whispered.
“I just had it decorated,” he said, not looking at me. It was a bit, um, well, it needed a fresh lick of paint.”
I smiled to myself, remembering what Jenny had said—that he’d hoped for a while I would move in.
“It’s just across the hall from my room,” he said, glancing behind us to another bright, airy space filled with white and accented by dark wood. “If you were to need anything.”
I suddenly became aware of only one need. Him. I couldn’t imagine sleeping in such close proximity to him, but unable to wrap my legs around his or tuck my arms around his torso. We’d technically only slept together for one hour but we’d been physically close pretty often. I couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like. We’d be alone, no-one else around; no-one to tell us we were breaking any rules; no-one to judge us for being together while our jobs were completely opposed. We were no longer at war; we were on the same team. We were no longer under the rule of the Decadence Club; my membership had expired a long time ago. Yet we were going to sleep in separate rooms, separate beds. I knew it was for the best. We had to focus. We were about to be hung out to dry by the industry; we were about to be completely annihilated. We couldn’t afford to lose sleep or be distracted by sex. Not now.
“Thanks,” I said. “And not just for giving me somewhere safe to live for a while, but for doing all this for Phoenix.”
“It’s not just for Phoenix you know…”
I couldn’t hear anymore. My head was already all over the place and I needed to focus.
“Well, thanks,” I muttered. “I must get back.” I turned and walked quickly back down the stairs, hearing his solid feet on the soft carpet behind me.
“Oh, she’s here,” I heard one of the managers saying as I walked back into the drawing room. “Jenny, this is Diana, Diana this is Jenny, the housekeeper.”
I smiled, unable to erase the look of guilt that had crept across my face.
“Oh!” She laughed, lightly. “We’ve met actually, but thank you. Miss Delaney…”
“Oh, it’s Diana, please,” I said.
“Diana. I need to show you how the security system works. Come this way.”
I followed her out to the main hall. Just before we reached the door, she turned and grinned. “I hope the flowers are to your liking.”
“They’re beautiful,” I grinned back.
* * *
Sheridan wasthe second to last person to leave the compound as we were now calling it.
“I’ll be back at eight. Are you going to be ok?”
I looked around once more for Jude. He was the only other person left in the house—his house—but I hadn’t seen him for the last hour and had no idea where in this vast palace he was.
“I’ll be fine. Just nervous about what the papers are going to say tomorrow.”
“Just imagine the worst,” Sheridan said, squeezing my arm. “Then you can only be pleasantly surprised.”
“Thanks, hon.”
I watched her give Alex a hug before she left, then turned to face my former boss-come-demerger consultant.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming, Al. The team were beyond excited to see you.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he sighed. “I just wish I was seeing you all again under happier circumstances.”
“Well, at least I now know why you left Empirical,” I said, leaning up against the newly-erected desks.
“I wish I could have told you at the time,” he replied, shaking his head. “I had to sign about twenty non-disclosure agreements; you know how it is.”
I grinned. “But, I guess, since I found out anyway, they don’t mean shit.”
“You got that right.”
“Well, thanks for all the advice, I really appreciate it. And I know Jude does too. He’s amazing at what he does, but… you know the industry so well.”
Alex spanned his eyes round the room until they landed back on me.
“So, you’re living here, huh?”
“Just while we sort through the next few weeks,” I hurried to clarify.
“I didn’t see that coming,” he muttered almost to himself.
“It isn’t like that, Alex.”
He held his hands up, grinning mischievously. “Hey! I’m not here to judge. You do whatever you need to do.” His face turned serious. “Just know that I’m so damn proud of you, Diana. There were a lot of people who questioned why I promoted you when I did—I’m not going to lie, and I’m sure you knew that. But good God, you’re a formidable little firefly. You’ve taken this industry by its own horns and you’re ramming sense back into it. I knew you were always going to be good but I had no idea you were going to be this good.”
“Stop it, Alex,” I shook my head. “It’s never been just me.”
He bent down and landed a kiss on to the top of my head.
“Never could take a damn compliment.”
He turned and walked towards the door.
“I’m always at the other end of the phone, ok? Just call if you need anything.”
“We will. And Alex…”
He turned as he stepped through the door.
“Thanks. It’s so good to see you again.”
“Likewise. Now, go get some rest. You’re going to need it.”
I watched Alex head back out onto the sidewalk before closing the door and securing the locks. Two of them looked as though they’d only been installed in the last couple of days.
I walked back to the drawing room to clear the last of the take-out plates. As I carried them through to the kitchen, I felt him appear behind me. A hand reached out and opened the dishwasher.
“Let me do that. You’ve had an insane day.”
I stood, leaning backwards, away from his chest as he bent over me.
“So have you,” I answered. “You quit your job to join a business that may not make it past the end of tomorrow.”
He stacked the dishes and closed the door, bringing himself chest-to-face with me. He knew he towered over me and I was pretty sure he enjoyed it. I felt his lips come down on the top of my head.
“That’s the killer attitude,” he replied, then walked back a few steps so I could fully take in his smile. He’d changed into sweat pants and a thin, white t-shirt, giving me an eyeful of the chest I’d melted all over at the Club.
“You’ve done this on purpose, haven’t you?” I grinned up at him.
“Done what?” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants and cocked his head, innocently.
“Changed into that shirt, knowing how I like… seeing you.”
I metaphorically shook my head at myself but there was no point in denying it; I fancied the pants off him and it was written all over my face.
“You can see me any time you want now,” he said, one corner of his lip curling upwards, smugly.
I stood still for a few moments, taking in deep breaths. He was going to make this impossible.
“I can’t,” I said, finally. “There’s too much going on. This attack on the mainstream music industry. Aaron still out there, God knows where…”
“You’re safe here,” Jude’s face fell, serious again.
“I know,” I said, shaking my head. “But my head is too full to think of anything else right now.”
“I get it,” he smiled. “Anyway, I’m not trying to do anything here. I just got ready for bed, that’s all. I have an early start tomorrow and I just didn’t want you clearing everything up on your own.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling strangely disappointed, but I should have known. “Ok, well, I’d better go to bed too.”
I followed him up the stairs and gave him a weak smile as we entered our separate rooms.
“Just shout if you need anything,” he said, holding my gaze one last time.
I nodded and watched his door close, putting two walls between us, as though the one I’ll built around myself hadn’t been enough.