Adore me- the fourth novel

Chapter 15- as a business man not as a father

Jays POV

She's dreaming. And I'm just here watching her the way her lips move and when she occasionally reaches out for me. Her hands with our ring on it and the tattoo of our initials.

"Jay" she whispers.
I smile and shh her tucking her hair behind her ear and stroking her face.

I've dreamed continuously about that moment, her telling me that she wants my babies. Passion possessed me and I had to take her then and there. Perhaps I got a little bit carried away but I need her to know, just how much I want this.

There is a minor thing that's annoying me. Matthew.
I'm going to sort that out.
I have too.
I don't leave things be. It's why I win. Everytime.

I stroke her tummy and waist and she shuffles into me.
"I love you" I whisper and then I gently remove myself from the bed and walk over to the bathroom.

Splashing my face and checking my reflection in the mirror. I put on a shirt and some shorts and walk out of the bedroom.

I cross the long hall, it has a deep red carpet and light neutral walls lined with art. There's a console table at the landing which has various prints from holidays on it in large marble frames. Not forgetting the vase with fresh honeysuckle and roses in.

There's 25 marble steps down to the foyer. I take them one by one, not wanting to wake her up. Maeve has gone home now, she usually waits until midnight and then she takes a paid cab home. I always wondered what she did when she got back. And I always hoped that she didn't have to clean her own home and that she took a well earned rest.

Once downstairs I head to the kitchen, and retrieve a can of drink. Hesitating briefly I walk to dads office taking my drink with me, it's an off bounds area. Even to family.

Three long halls and round a corner and then I am there outside the large door that I'm not allowed in.

Of course I know the combinations. I begin entering the numbers into the lock door and after around 10 minutes I hear the familiar click. I smile and waltz in. I'm sure in some way he knows that I come in here. Something about the way he looked at me differently after that first time. When I was 12 I broke into the office and the following morning over breakfast he eyed me for 20 seconds longer than normal, before clearing his throat and avoiding my eye contact and eating Maeve's egg on toast.

As fervently as I do not want to be a part of business I enjoy eavesdropping and watching what he is doing. Fearing that he might leave me his shoes to walk in someday, and having no idea what to do is something I think about most of the time. Throughout being a teenager, I thought about and tracked his business moves and in various instances I admired his boldness and creativity, as a business man not as a father. I cannot deny his ability in business, even if I discount him in almost every other area.

The arch windows in the office look over the back of the house, the privacy blinds are always down in this room. The large oak desk takes pride in the centre of the room, decked out with all of the latest tech and chock full of papers and invoices. A wall lined with bookcases on the far right holds books and journals, nothing creative all just information books. I imagine Taylor enthusiastically browsing this bookcase and then feeling at a loss at the lack of interesting reading material.

I head to the desk, breathing in the smell of cologne, cigars and brandy. I take a seat in the leather chair and sigh. I gently move some of the stuff aside slightly and go though what he has been looking at.