Complicated Ties (The Ties Trilogy (A Contemporary Erotic Romance Novel)) Read Online Free Page A
Author: J.A. Roberts-Parkes
up and walked towards the door, I could see the outline of my mother as I opened the door, she was wearing a black long dress that clung to her.
“Hi mom, I thought I was picking you up”.
“I fancied coming a little early to catch up” she replied with a grin.
My mother stood in the doorway with me as my car pulled up to the front door of my house. A pearl white Range Rover Evoque, a bespoke interior that catered to my exquisite taste. Worth the $49,000 I had spent on it.
My driver Anthony stepped out of the drivers door, I knew him well as he had been with me for the last two years, he was separated from his girlfriend and saw his children regularly. Me and my mother got into the car as Ant held the door open,
“Evening Miss White, usual place tonight then?” he asked politely.
“ No not tonight, take us to Chez Pouillion, oh how are your kids Ant?,
“The youngsters are good Miss White, Thanks for asking”,
“You go anywhere nice then?, his eyes looking back at me from his mirror.
“Only to Six Flags, my kids love those rides”.
Before he worked for me, Ant had been a doorman at Archies, a club in London’s West End, always polite, always made sure that whatever you needed, he could accommodate. The thought of having him bend me across the hood of the car had only crossed my mind once, the first time I saw him, when he came to interview for the job as my driver. He had his issues, but was fiercely loyal and the thought had been put firmly out of my mind.
He closed the door gently on us, as we fell into the black leather seats that enveloped us, the scent of vanilla permeating from the air freshener that reminded me of summer days as a kid eating ice cream on vacation with my parents.
We arrived at Chez Pouillion, a building with green and red pillars, the car pulling up at the curb. The door opened and my mom got out with Ant giving her his hand to support her.
“ Well this looks like a nice place Maddie, one of those posh places full of expense accounts being sent” she said as she let out a chuckle.
“ Only the best for you Mom” I replied smiling at her.
“You know you do spoil me sometimes, shall we enter the ever so posh restaurant and I’ll bet you $5 that some ‘french’ Matrie De will be in there.
We entered through a stained glass door and the sound of classical music and conversation filled my senses, a pompous Matrie De came over to his station and looked us up and down.
“Madam?” he said, with an obvious fake french accent.
“Table for two please” I replied trying not to laugh. I could see my mom trying to do the same.
“This way please” he quipped as he guided us through the throng of tables with people dining on Fois Gras and filling their glasses with $200 bottles of Moet and Chandon, we arrived at a table next to a mural of the french countryside, adding to the ambience of the restaurant, the matrie de pulled out a light colored chair for my mom and did the same for me, feeling his breath on the back of my neck as he pushed my chair inwards, the smell of garlic filled my nostrils, making me sniffle.
.
The Matrie De handed us a menu that was leather bound, and left us with a rushed look on his face like he was running the restaurant single handedly.
“ Well...Mom anything takes your fancy...and I don’t mean the waiters?”, looking at the menu with its various dishes written in a fancy looking fonts.
“And you can hand me the $5 for the fake french waiter with the even faker accent”, with her laughing again.
“Well don’t say I don’t give you anything”,
“You did bet that he would have a fake accent”,
“Funny, shall we order or not. I’m famished”.
Mom picked up her menu and started to look through it.
“The roasted seabass looks nice...maybe the linguine with seafood...” she said looking intently at the menu. She glanced at me as out of the corner of my eye a waiter was making his way to us, his tight white shirt
“Hi mom, I thought I was picking you up”.
“I fancied coming a little early to catch up” she replied with a grin.
My mother stood in the doorway with me as my car pulled up to the front door of my house. A pearl white Range Rover Evoque, a bespoke interior that catered to my exquisite taste. Worth the $49,000 I had spent on it.
My driver Anthony stepped out of the drivers door, I knew him well as he had been with me for the last two years, he was separated from his girlfriend and saw his children regularly. Me and my mother got into the car as Ant held the door open,
“Evening Miss White, usual place tonight then?” he asked politely.
“ No not tonight, take us to Chez Pouillion, oh how are your kids Ant?,
“The youngsters are good Miss White, Thanks for asking”,
“You go anywhere nice then?, his eyes looking back at me from his mirror.
“Only to Six Flags, my kids love those rides”.
Before he worked for me, Ant had been a doorman at Archies, a club in London’s West End, always polite, always made sure that whatever you needed, he could accommodate. The thought of having him bend me across the hood of the car had only crossed my mind once, the first time I saw him, when he came to interview for the job as my driver. He had his issues, but was fiercely loyal and the thought had been put firmly out of my mind.
He closed the door gently on us, as we fell into the black leather seats that enveloped us, the scent of vanilla permeating from the air freshener that reminded me of summer days as a kid eating ice cream on vacation with my parents.
We arrived at Chez Pouillion, a building with green and red pillars, the car pulling up at the curb. The door opened and my mom got out with Ant giving her his hand to support her.
“ Well this looks like a nice place Maddie, one of those posh places full of expense accounts being sent” she said as she let out a chuckle.
“ Only the best for you Mom” I replied smiling at her.
“You know you do spoil me sometimes, shall we enter the ever so posh restaurant and I’ll bet you $5 that some ‘french’ Matrie De will be in there.
We entered through a stained glass door and the sound of classical music and conversation filled my senses, a pompous Matrie De came over to his station and looked us up and down.
“Madam?” he said, with an obvious fake french accent.
“Table for two please” I replied trying not to laugh. I could see my mom trying to do the same.
“This way please” he quipped as he guided us through the throng of tables with people dining on Fois Gras and filling their glasses with $200 bottles of Moet and Chandon, we arrived at a table next to a mural of the french countryside, adding to the ambience of the restaurant, the matrie de pulled out a light colored chair for my mom and did the same for me, feeling his breath on the back of my neck as he pushed my chair inwards, the smell of garlic filled my nostrils, making me sniffle.
.
The Matrie De handed us a menu that was leather bound, and left us with a rushed look on his face like he was running the restaurant single handedly.
“ Well...Mom anything takes your fancy...and I don’t mean the waiters?”, looking at the menu with its various dishes written in a fancy looking fonts.
“And you can hand me the $5 for the fake french waiter with the even faker accent”, with her laughing again.
“Well don’t say I don’t give you anything”,
“You did bet that he would have a fake accent”,
“Funny, shall we order or not. I’m famished”.
Mom picked up her menu and started to look through it.
“The roasted seabass looks nice...maybe the linguine with seafood...” she said looking intently at the menu. She glanced at me as out of the corner of my eye a waiter was making his way to us, his tight white shirt
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