Illicit Affairs by Holly Dixon

Sixteen

Autumn days fadedtowards the inevitable colder weather ahead, each nightfall coming sooner than the one before. However, on this autumnal Saturday, the foliage awaiting Ava’s gaze out of her bay window was like that of an infinite dream of scarlet and gold with branches taking root into a cloudless azure sky.

The shrill buzz came from the phone mounted to the wall as she cursed under her breath and took one last look at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t sure what to wear to a charity auction so ebbed on the side of caution and went with a long, pleated, tan skirt with a tucked-in black sweater and a pair of heels to add some class.

“Bloody heck, Brooks! I’m coming,” she growled, the buzzer going off repeatedly as she finished tidying the stray curls of gold tied up into a braided bun.

Stepping out into the crisp air, she breathed in the gold and felt it extend throughout every part of her before peering down at the silver executive car and climbing in.

“You don’t bloody have to take your time, ol’ girl!”

“Peter?” Ava’s nose scrunched up as she slid into the rear seat next to him. “Where is Mr. Brooks?”

“Must be meeting us there.” Peter shrugged, idly picking lint off his green peacoat.

“Oh.” Definitely not a date then.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, splendid,” Ava said with a tight smile.

“Rightio, time to go!” Peter grinned, giving her knee a quick pat before chapping on the chauffeur’s window.

Fortunately, Ava didn’t have to listen to Peter’s obnoxious droning for too long as the car pulled into the Forbes estate. They drove up a long avenue of trees that decorated the rolling green hills on either side and made Ava feel as though she had stepped inside a Jane Austen novel.

“It’s quite impressive really… I’ve been sat here for twenty minutes and my resting heart rate is 25 bpm, see!” Peter thrust his arm across Ava’s vision, obscuring the picturesque countryside and catching her by surprise. “Oh look, 24!” He beamed down at his fitness watch as Ava gave him a quick yet pained smile. “You should really consider coming out running with me; it’d do you the world of good, ol’—”

“This is as far as I can take you,” interrupted the driver from beyond the partition.

Ava peered through the small window up front and saw a sea of people gathering within the long driveway that was lined on either side with vintage cars.

“That’s fine!” Ava blurted as she abruptly opened her door before the car had managed to crawl to a stop. She had made her way into the small crowd by the time Peter caught up with her and casually linked his arm through hers. “Mr. Forbes certainly had a lot of cars,” she mused as they sauntered up the aisle of collectable vehicles going up for auction.

“Old fellow is barmy selling all of these if you ask me! I wouldn’t be letting any of these beauties go… I mean, these aren’t just cars, Ava, they’re—no bloody way!” Peter slid to a stop and gawked at a particular black and white car that looked like something Cruella de Vil would drive. “He surely can’t be getting rid of this?” He turned and looked at Ava’s blank expression. “Ava, this is a Rolls-Royce Phantom!”

“And…? Gah!” Ava squawked as her hand was pulled forward to stand in front of the antique lump of metal.

“You don’t just get rid of gems like these!”

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to need it anymore…” Ava blurted and received offended looks from the people peering into the windows of the vehicle. “Swell… I’ll just be heading on inside now and grabbing some of that lovely free champagne.” She excused herself with an awkward smile before scuttling up the long driveway.

The Forbes manor was deceivingly large as it hid behind majestic oak trees. It was a red brick building wrapped snugly in green ivy, the perfect backdrop to an Agatha Christie mystery.

Ava stepped inside the opulent foyer that was littered with London’s upper-class socialites as a caterer handed her a glass of champagne. She meandered her way through the many rooms showcasing various pieces of Holden Forbes’s life that were up for grabs. His wealth was shown in the randomness of some of his possessions—an obsession with vintage arcade games such as pinball and penny machines, a creepy wooden fortune teller, and a retro pro-boxer machine.

She sipped idly at her flute before stopping short inside an empty room and peering up. Hanging shamelessly upon the wall was a grossly large oil painting.

“Oh, dear God,” Ava scoffed, rolling her lips inwards to suppress her laughter at the gauche family portrait. Dressed in white, the Forbes family posed classically with expressionless faces, apart from Charlotte Forbes, who held the slightest of smirks—the type that held a secret.

“How long do you think they had to stay still like that for?”

“Fuck me!” Ava’s squeal reverberated off the high ceiling, her shoulders jumping as her attention snapped back to the imbecile who snuck up on her.

“Ms. Archer,” Nate greeted her with a smirk teasing his lips, his honey gems staring up at the artwork rather than her.

Ava huffed and faced forward again, ignoring his proximity to her back as she shook her head up at the painting. “What I find most impressive is how one could hold their poker face for that length of time,” she quipped.

“Meh.” Nate shrugged behind her before whispering coyly into her ear, “I think the Botox helps with that.” His mouth lifted into an accomplished grin as bubbly giggles left her lips, his eyes down upon her as she slowly turned around and peered up at him from beneath those long lashes. He felt as though someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed the air from his lungs.

“What, is there something in my hair?”

“No! It’s nothing…you just look”—he paused, deliberating over the correct word as his eyes drank in her effortless beauty—“casually remarkable.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, love,” Ava joked, hoping her snide tone would cover the blush upon her cheeks. It baffled her how a man could make dressing in suits look as though it were his staple outfit. The stone-coloured suit jacket hung easily from Nate’s broad shoulders, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned to show delicate tufts of dark hair, a belt securing his dark tight jeans that drew the eye to his well-framed package.

“Love?” Nate challenged with a raise of his brow, his heart secretly flip-flopping with the term of endearment from his subordinate—even if it was said in a cheeky tone.

“Shall we?” Ava swerved with a grin, holding her elbow out and causing Nate to shake his head and chuckle as he escorted her towards the civilised garden party out back.

The air was perfumed by fresh petunias, the well-groomed lawn stretching out as far as the barley hills in the distance. Upon the opaque green sat a large white marquee housing the main auction event.

“Ah! There you both are,” Peter cut in as he made his way over to them and casually took Ava’s other arm, much to Nate’s distaste.

The trio sauntered across the formal garden, a string quartet growing louder the closer they got to the large tent where the crowd was congregating. Despite being from money herself, Ava felt incredibly insecure around these money-thirsty snobs who drooled over a dead man’s possessions.

“Oh, good, you made it!” Charlotte Forbes cooed, excusing herself from a group of ladies and dragging her stepdaughter with her as she joined them. “You all look absolutely darling! Don’t they look darling, Freya?” She motioned to the quiet girl on her arm who nodded her head and sipped upon her orange juice from a champagne flute.

Ava couldn’t help but cringe at this woman who was straight out of an Absolutely Fabulous sketch and feel sorry for Freya, who seemed like the only normal one in this family.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Oliver cut in, his hand delicately upon Charlotte’s shoulder as he advised with a polite smile, “The bachelorette auction is about to begin, Charlotte.”

“Thank you, my dearest,” Charlotte replied, turning to press a small kiss on Oliver’s cheek, which caused Ava, Nate, and Peter to exchange confused looks as the Forbeses played nice together as though they weren’t at war in a financial lawsuit. “Oh, Ms. Archer! You should put your name forward for the auction! I’m sure some dashing young fellow would sweep you off your feet!”

“Uhm…no…I’m quite fine for that, thank you.” I’d rather shag a cactus.

“Come on, ol’ girl. It’s for charity!” Peter egged her on.

“Let’s go take our seats, yeah?” Nate veered, saving her from any further awkwardness as he led her to the front row.

“I’ll be back in a mo!” Peter grinned, disappearing with Charlotte.

“Where are those two off to?” Ava asked Nate, who gave her a meek shrug.

“So…not your idea of fun,hm?” he asked, nodding his head towards the bachelorettes lining up at the side of the stage and checking their makeup in their compact mirrors.

“Being objectified and sold to the highest bidding man? No, I think I’ll pass.”

“Considering it’s for charity, I doubt folks will see it so chauvinistically.” He chuckled.

“Then why don’t you put your name forward, Mr. Brooks?”

“Because it’s a women-only auction.”

“Exaaaactly…” Ava sang, batting her lashes at him and grinning at the way he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head with suppressed amusement.

“Fair enough,” he said with a smirk, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he stared at her. Although he would never admit it, he admired the fire inside this bold vixen. She was perhaps the only person in this room, maybe even his life, who could call him out for his shit, and he loved it.

“What’s up with you?” Ava squinted up at Peter as he rejoined them with a menacing smile on his face.

“You’ll see.” Peter grinned, cracking his knuckles and reclining in his seat.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming to today’s auction,” Oliver announced on stage with a mic held to his mouth. “As some of you may know, our beloved father was taken from us due to his ill heart. He was a generous man and very passionate when it came to giving to charity. That is why all proceeds from today’s event will be going to the British Heart Trust.”

The audience filling the marquee applauded as Charlotte joined him on stage, however, Ava’s attention was on Jenson, who placed his hand on top of Freya’s, their expressions sombre over their father’s death.

“Thank you, son,” Charlotte said over the sound system before pressing a quick kiss to Oliver’s cheek. “Holden would have adored seeing you all here today. We are all so grateful for your contributions so far but would like to give special thanks to Archer and Brooks for their generous donation of ten thousand pounds!” She encouraged the crowd to applaud as Nate gave a simple but courteous nod in her direction. “Well, let’s not keep the ladies waiting any longer, fellas, as we commence our bachelorette auction!”

Nate chuckled, knocking his knee against Ava’s as she tutted in disapproval. A table was rolled onto the stage housing a red glittery box that Charlotte dipped her arm into.

“The first lucky lady you have the chance to win a date with will be…” She pulled out a red envelope and peered inside with an excited giggle. “Why…it is the beautiful Ms. Ava Archer!”

Ava choked, looking up at Mrs. Forbes, the blood plummeting in her body as she felt her stomach nearly fall out of her arse.

“Go on then!” Peter laughed, nudging at Ava to stand up.

“Did you do this?” Ava snarled at Peter, slapping at his grip on her arm before he all but threw her up onto her feet.

“Gerrup there!” He howled with laughter, his fingers in his mouth as he whistled and applauded with the crowd.

Gulping down the bile in her throat, Ava dragged herself onto the stage, standing beside Charlotte and grimacing down at the horny men who were straightening themselves in their chairs to angle a better view at their soon-to-be prize.

“Don’t be nervous, darling! I’m sure they won’t bite…much!” Charlotte jested, eliciting laughter from the crowd that made Ava feel as though she were stood naked inside her own living nightmare. “Give us a twirl!”

“I’d rather not…” Ava said through a plastered grin, her uncomfortable response causing the crowd to laugh harder at her obvious dismay.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure you will all agree that a date with this fine beauty”—Charlotte motioned her hand over Ava as though showing off a piece of art—“is simply priceless, therefore, shall we start the bidding at say…five hundred pounds?”

“Here!” one man shouted instantly at the back making Ava’s eyes widen.

“Five-fifty!” another shouted.

“One thousand!”

“My, my, Ms. Archer. You are very popular with this crowd!” Charlotte nudged Ava, who felt like at any second she was going to lose her stomach contents or scream bloody murder. She knew these men were wealthy, but would they honestly stoop so low as to spend hundreds, if not thousands, of their money on a goddamn date?!

“Five thousand pounds!” A new bidder stole gasps from the crowd as everyone turned to see the mysterious man at the back: a red-faced, round man dressed in tweed and nearing retirement age.

Ava’s eyes widened in horror as she looked down at Nate and Peter, pleading with them to do something, but Peter simply shrugged his shoulders and laughed at her misfortune.

Something twisted inside Nate’s gut. This auction had suddenly taken a perverse turn now that it was Ms. Archer’s dignity that was at stake. He knew she was no damsel, a woman who was far too fierce ever to be saved from distress, but here she was pleading with the halfwit redhead next to him who was letting her dangle by a noose.

“Seven thousand five hundred.” Nate rolled his eyes at Red and raised his hand in the air.

“Eight thousand five hundred,” the tweedy man boasted from the back of the tent.

“Ten thousand,” Nate countered with cool composure.

“Twenty thousand!” the man boomed across the drama-thirsty crowd.

Ava’s palms were going to be scarred for life with the indents from her nails, anger and anxiety tearing through her veins from the humiliation of it all. Never before had she felt so tiny and minuscule, a second-class citizen being fought over by two men without her say in the matter. It was so degrading.

Nate turned his head over his shoulder to peer at the imbecile at the back. Clearly, this stubborn ass of a guy used his pay packet to measure his dick. He was going to call it quits in the bidding war, turning around to give Ava the bad news when he saw her blue eyes on her feet. She looked so small on that stage, so submissive and caged like a lion at the circus. It made him feel sick to his stomach to see the fire in her diminished to just a flickering flame.

Ah—fuck it!

“Fifty thousand pounds.” Nate’s offer caused a crescendo of gasps from the audience before a tense silence dropped upon the auction. He watched as Ava’s eyes met his, but the surprise on her face didn’t show any relief.

“Do I hear fifty-five?” Charlotte asked the man at the back, who was rubbing his face before growling and throwing his hat to the ground. “Going once…twice…sold to Mr. Brooks! Come get your prize!”

Humiliation, anger, and a touch of relief filled Ava as Nate came up onto the stage, his fingers linking through hers as he gave a quick nod to the wolf-whistling crowd and abruptly escorted her off stage and out of the tent. The second they were clear of the crowd Ava suddenly hitched up her skirt and bolted towards the house.

“Ava!” Nate shouted, receiving concerned glances from people, darting after her as she stormed inside the house.

“That was so fucking humiliating!” Ava snarled, stomping inside the room that showcased arcade games from the 1930s and causing people to turn around with their jaws dropped.

“Ah, c’mon, it coulda been worse…look who ya coulda ended up with.” Nate tried to lighten the situation but was half expecting her loud reaction.

“Could have been worse?! Oh, easy for you to say when you’re flaunting your bloody wallet and testosterone around!”

“Hey! A thank-you wouldn’t hurt considering I’m gonna have to sell one of my goddamn cars for that!”

Ava’s scornful gaze snapped up to the people drawn towards the commotion. “In here,” she hissed at Nate, yanking the lapel of his jacket and pulling him inside a retro photo booth.

“The hell are you do—”

“I’ve had quite enough of people ogling me like some spectacle!” she snarled, yanking the velvet curtain closed behind him. “Now, where was I?”

However, her brain stalled at the lack of personal space inside the cramped box and made for a dizzying reaction with her hormones as her nose twitched against the alluring scent of Nate’s cologne.

“I believe you were acting like an ungrateful brat after I saved your ass back there.” Nate’s arms crossed as he scowled down at her.

Ava opened her mouth to unleash hell, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was the restless pools of honey she was swimming in, perhaps it was the heat radiating from his body, or maybe it was just her conscience. “You’re right,” she began, choosing to ignore the way his eyebrows jumped in surprise. “Thank you for what you did.”

“Wow.” He stared down at her as his arms slowly uncrossed. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Ava?”

“Don’t make me regret it, Brooks. Now move, the dust is bothering my nose.”

“Annnnd there she is.” Nate chuckled, adoring the nickname she gave him as he retreated out of the photo booth. However, as he did, his elbow knocked a lever and a flash blinded them. “Might as well?” he asked with a raised brow and nodded at the camera.

“Only if you pull a funny face.” Ava smirked.

“Not a chance,” he replied, deadpan.

“Are you always so serious?”

“No.”

“Do you always say no to everything?” She raised her brow.

“No.”

Nate watched her face flatten dubiously and couldn’t help but to laugh as he poked his tongue out at her just in time for the flash to go off again. Her eyes lit up brighter than any camera flash as she tossed her head back and laughed the type of hearty laugh that came from the soul. He couldn’t help but marvel at this side of her.

“These are brilliant,” Ava chirped, handing him the monochrome photos. “Here, you keep them. Let it be a souvenir of your time here in London.”

“How thoughtful,” he joked, peering down at the photographs. “I’ll keep it in my wallet until the next time I have to save a damsel.” Nate laughed at her reaction as she shoved at his chest, his feet stumbling forward and tripping upon his shoelace as he fell up against her but luckily caught himself on the wall of the booth before he could crush her.

“I think you’re the one needing to be saved,” she jested in breathy laughter that fell quiet as she watched his intense gaze fall upon her lips.

Her back slowly peeled from the wall, encroaching on unknown territory as she stared up into not the eyes of her boss, but the eyes of a man that she desired. If he didn’t want this then he certainly did not make that fact evident as he remained firmly in place, his breathing growing louder as though he were struggling to remain composed. She was playing a dangerous game, contently caged in by his arms as her fingertips curiously stepped up the buttons on his shirt, closer towards his exposed clavicle before suddenly a loud bang snapped the moment in two.

“You’re a bloody disgrace, brother!”Oliver roared from outside in the hallway.

“What the hell?” Ava gasped as she and Nate stepped out of the booth in time for Oliver to throw Jenson across the room. The pair crash-landed upon a foosball table that clattered, snapped, and banged into broken pieces on the floor which they wrestled upon.

Nate jumped into action, gripping at Oliver and yanking him off of Jenson, whose nose sat at an alarming angle, blood staining his pink shirt.

“Father would turn in his grave if he knew! You disgust me!” Oliver spat at his brother before roaring at Nate to get off him.

“Do everyone a favour and walk it off, buddy,” Nate ordered, easily dominating the situation as he pushed Oliver out of the room and into the now-crowded hallway. “You that way.” He thrust his finger down the hall at Jenson, sending the squabbling pair in opposite directions before returning to Ava and huffing in exasperation.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Ava gaped up at Nate. “They were all acting fine two minutes ago!”

Nate sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the door frame and said, “You wanna see who people really are? Just add money to the equation and that’ll unmask them.”