I Kissed A Playboy (12 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Once Brian calmed down from the shock of his early wake up call, he felt awful at how he’d left Faith. He knew how frightened she would be at the prospect of potentially being pregnant and what was at stake for their child. Although he thought he’d been helping, in retrospect he had been too busy telling her what she should be doing and how she should be acting, rather than listening to what she was trying to communicate.

He knew her well enough to know her mind became cluttered when overwhelmed with emotion. Rather than wade in, listen carefully and pay close attention to her constantly conflicted heart and mind, he’d gotten on the phone and behaved as a cross between an immature lovelorn teen and a ‘tough love’ school counselor.

Truth was, after Paris, he was emotionally vulnerable and fragile himself. Everything was speeding along. To fall in love over the course of a week was inevitably a first for them both, throw a potential complicated pregnancy into the equation and who wouldn’t be fretful?

Brian was out of bed by 9am. He knew he was in for another full day but the prospect wasn’t daunting or formidable. If anything, it was pleasing.

The first port of call was his father’s office. The daunting building was a grand structure in its own right, literally scraping the skies. The receptionist’s warm welcome gave Brian the feeling he may have had a one night stand with her at one of the company’s Christmas parties at some point.

‘We don’t see you here often Mr. Porterhouse?’

‘No. Not even for shareholders meetings,’ he replied amiably. ‘My Dad in?’

‘He’s in meetings till 12pm. Out for lunch at 1pm. Given it’s Friday.’

‘He’ll be having a boozy lunch. He won’t be in the office this afternoon.’

‘Your words, not mine,’ she said, wagging a finger at him.

‘Can I see him at midday?’

‘One moment, I’ll call his PA.’

He waited as she dialed. If he wasn’t doggedly determined to meet with his father, he’d have been inclined to be saddened by the fact that he had to book a meeting to visit the old man.

Although welcome in the family house, Brian was markedly separate from his father and brothers. He was separate from Porterhouse Media Ltd. since he was strong-armed into taking a three-year extended gap year and recommended to live off his allowance and shares rather than actively contribute to the media company. His mother declined to take sides, refusing to discuss the matter. His brothers, desperate to someday become heirs to the top seat, were happy to have one less brother as competition.

It was only when Gabriel had rung to check on Faith’s safe arrival that he realized how valuable families and their support could be. What concerned Brian most was talking to Gabe about private matters was a lot easier than talking to his father. Then again, his father had published the story of him and Faith at the club.

He’d commissioned an interview with one of his glossy mags when he realized he’d misjudged the impact of his and Faith’s ‘Cinderella Story’, but Susie had secured a better deal with another company. With the real promise his prominence in the public eye had been regenerated, respecting the power of fame, the chances were his father might be open to suggestion.

‘That’s fine,’ announced the receptionist, drawing him away from his thoughts.

It was 11am. There was a chance Brian’s father may exit the meeting early and make himself ‘scarce’ if he knew Brian was due.

‘Think I’ll head up now. Chill in his office.’

‘I can entertain you for an hour if you like? We’ve always got someone to substitute for emergencies,’ she said waving at the other four receptionists manning the stations.

‘I’m fine.’

The receptionist looked stung, but Faith was the only woman on Brian’s mind. He took the elevator to the top floor. Hoping his charm would allow him to bypass the PA to go straight to his father’s office, Brian approached the woman with swagger. She wasn’t young and pretty like the receptionists who were the ‘face’ of the company, but mid-thirties and bewitching in her own way. Brian suspected her employment wasn’t the result of a glowing CV and strong references.

‘Do you know me?’ he asked.

‘From the papers, not from here,’ she said shrewdly.

‘I don’t want to miss my Dad. Could I wait in his office?’ he said adopting a forlorn tone and making eyes akin to those of a small boy lost.

‘I can’t see why not. The office is glass. I can observe your antics. Any trouble, Brian, and I won’t hesitate to call security.’

‘You’re exactly like my old head mistress. I like it,’ he grinned. ‘Did they tell you why I got expelled from my first high school?’ he called out as he entered his father’s office.

He heard her laugh at his off-hand charm. Nothing serious in his words, they both enjoyed the banter.

Not entirely unexpectedly his father did finish his meeting early. Lounged on the black leather sofa, whilst the PA could see what Brian was up to, he could see what she was up to as well. As his father approached, he saw her talking animatedly and gesticulating in his direction. His father nodded, said something to cause her to frown then walked casually to his office.

‘Brian,’ Porterhouse Senior greeted his youngest.

‘Hey, Dad.’

Brian winced at the awkwardness. It was evident to any observer there was no familiarity or comfort in the welcome; no bear hug, clap on the back or even a handshake.

‘What brings you here?’ he asked jovially sitting behind his desk.

‘I’ve been thinking’

‘Oh yes. I saw the pictures of the new girl. Seems like Susie’s produced a big comeback for you. That should keep you busy. Has she got anything lined up for you?’

‘No. I’m not venturing down that path right now.’

‘Why ever not? It’s your calling. You’re the best looking of my boys. You keep our family on the tongues of the public. Don’t knock the work you do for the family, for this company; even with your limited talents.’

Brian clenched his hands to form fists, furious at his father’s patronizing tone.

‘Dad it sounds like you’re pimping me out to the press.’

‘You have the same shares in this company as your brothers,’ his voice was less friendly, as if sensing his rebellious son was on the offensive.

‘No salary.’

‘With respect Brian, I can’t invent a position for your skill-set here. Your brothers worked hard to get where they are. The other staff is highly qualified and have worked years to earn their places. You don’t seriously expect me to say ‘come join the flock son, I’ll employ you here’.’

‘No, Dad, I don’t seriously expect you to say that, but it would have been nice if you had—even just once.’

His father’s eyes were a watery blue; giving him an icy, cold, detachment during eye contact.

‘Brian why don’t you come work here full time? I’m sure you’d liven up the day of all our female staff if you decided to play post boy or better yet tea-boy.’

‘Now you’re being insulting. It’s not like my grades negated me applying for college.’

‘No. Even if you came here as tea-boy Brian, how reliable would you be? It only takes one pretty girl to turn your head and you’d be whisking her off to Paris for the day. Who would make tea and coffee for the dedicated staff then?’

The comment was offensive. It didn’t warrant an answer.

‘It’s not like I was given the opportunity to hone my skill-set, was I, Father?’

‘You had every opportunity. I suggested you travel and skip out on company duties, you agreed. I put the same proposition to your two older brothers. Both refused and fought me to go to university, then fought harder to work here. You didn’t, you chose the easy option.’

Stunned, Brian tried to take it all in.

‘That’s not how I remember it,’ he said, his voice trembling.

‘As much as I loved you, I couldn’t ever see you as a potential asset to the company. You didn’t have the hunger. Don’t think though, that your public profile isn’t noted or isn’t an asset. I have to say, given the hype surrounding you and Cinderella, I must confess I’m somewhat peeved you didn’t let Susie, or the folk at Porterhouse Media know you were playing the knight in shining white armor card by flying the girl away from the humdrum of her everyday life to Paris on my Concorde.’

‘Sorry,’ mumbled Brian staring at the floor. His father had floored him, stripping away all his energy and enthusiasm.

He was trying to get his head around failing the test his father set after he’d finished high school. Compared to his brothers, he understood perfectly why he was a disappointment, continually excluded from business matters. Brian’s memory as the youngest child was fear. His father was formidable, used to being obeyed. Brian rebelled, but knew when his father dug his heels in there was no budging him.

Having misbehaved and been expelled from countless private academies with endless reprimands and punishments from his father, having reached eighteen Brian assumed his father denying him applying for college was in a bid to save money. He couldn’t afford to have Brian dropping out of universities being removed, or chopping and changing his chosen courses as his interests changed with his fickle nature.

It hadn’t crossed his mind to push to go to university, because by that point Brian believed what his father had spent four years drumming into his head. That he was a spoilt, bratty, unreliable, thoughtless boy, who was close to breaking his mother’s heart and desperate to draw attention away from his studious successful older brothers for the sheer hell of it.

Brian’s uncontrollable, destructive teenage behavior had driven such a wedge between him and his father, he thought the proposition to travel was his father’s placating way to edge him out of the family inner circle. To protect his pride and not engage in a battle he couldn’t win with his father, he’d accepted his fate and left in a spirit of fake fanfare.

It transpired Brian had a natural aptitude for languages, was resourceful, well-organized with strong geographical skills and a talent for integrating and rapidly accustoming to local cultures. Had he had the opportunity to attend university, could he have developed those skills to make him employable and useful? He’d never know for sure.

 ‘You look as if you’re going to cry. Man up son. You tripped up not alerting us to your adventure in France. Make sure this interview goes well. It’s not one of our magazines, but I’ve heard on the grapevine the girl blew it; making everything look like one big business transaction.’

Brian could cope with his father’s misguided and jaded perception of him, but extending it to Faith wasn’t on. He counted to ten to control the wobble in his voice.

‘No Dad, she didn’t blow it. She’d a normal girl that’s been thrust in the limelight. She wasn’t feeling well and bungled answering one question.’

‘Are you seeing her before the interview?’

‘Not sure.’

‘Be sure. They might say all publicity is good publicity, but the plebs love an old-fashioned romance. I don’t care if it’s real or not, but make it appear real.’

‘It is real,’ stated Brian through gritted teeth.

‘Then rehearsing and running through techniques with her shouldn’t be difficult.’

‘Consider it done father.’

‘I look forward to reading it. I believe they’re running it in a Saturday glossy insert.’

‘I have no idea and don’t care,’ said Brian with lackluster.