Caught By The Billionaire

2

Charlie

“Hello?” I call out from the hallway, flinging off my sneakers. It’s 7.30pm on Monday evening, and I’m already waiting for the weekend.

Cat, Julie, Suze, and I have all shared a flat in Kentish Town for five years.

It would have been perfect if the mice hadn’t moved in around the same time as us, but hey, you know what they say about London – you are never more than a metre away from a rat.

Cat teaches drama in a school in Highgate. It’s so posh that doctors can’t afford to send their kids there. Cat said that all the kids have their own drivers to leave them to school and that Tony Blairs’ kids applied but couldn’t get in.

Julie is a junior lawyer for a publishing firm in Liverpool Street and is flourishing due to her sociopathic personality. We made her take a test once, and let’s just say, from the results, we will never cross her.

No one really understands Suze’s job, something to do with logistics.

It’s Julie’s flat, a fact she will never let us forget. It’s even woven into her chat-up lines. What do you do? I’m a lawyer and a landlord.

We’ve never been able to work out how she owns a four-bedroom North London flat on her wages, even if it is outdated and riddled with mice. You need old money for bricks like this.

When we first met Julie, she dazzled us with her welcoming charm. Sit down, girls, welcome to your new home. Cat, don’t worry about washing up, dear, I will do that. Of course, it doesn’t matter that you split your tea on the carpet Charlie, let me just clear that up for you.

The honeymoon period lasted about 5 days. Then it was plates smashing, daily screaming sessions, and a hole kicked in Cat’s bed when she took more than six minutes to have a shower.

We continue to live there because we’re too scared to hand our notice in to Julie. The same reason she’s never been dumped by a bloke.

Suze is sprawled on the sofa watching a cooking show.

“Hey,” I say, throwing myself into the armchair. “I thought you were supposed to be at Yoga tonight?

“I was, but I didn’t want to overexert myself,” she explains between mouthfuls of scone and clotted cream. “I booked into spinning tomorrow, so I didn’t want to ruin that by doing Yoga tonight.”

She waves the scone in the air. “And this is a keto scone, so no harm done!”

“But you didn’t go to Pilates last night because of Yoga tonight.” I frown, confused.

She waves away the question. “Like faffing about in leggings trying to find my inner beauty is going to do me any good. Didn’t you hear? I’m going spinning tomorrow! That’s 600 calories gone in an hour! I need the energy for it.”

“Sure.” I give her a blank look.

“Hey, Charlie.” Cat breezes out of the bedroom with a post-coital glow on her face, with Stevie trailing after her.

They’ve been hooking up ever since Cat tagged along to my last work drinks. Loudly. She’s become a lot more adventurous in the s*x department. They have gadgets and devices that look like they need manuals.

“It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” I raise my eyebrows.

She shrugs. “It’s the only time we get to ourselves.”

“With Suze in the flat?” I wrinkle my nose.

“If we don’t have some sexy time while she is in the flat, we’d be celibate,” Stevie replies.

That’s true. Suze books a lot of gym classes but never leaves the flat.

Cat eyes me. “You look stressed.”

I reach over and pour a large glass of wine from the bottle Suze has started.

“No, I’m not.” I sigh. “This is the most chilled I’ve ever been in my life.”

“So, have you thought about your birthday anymore?” Charlie asks excitedly.

“I told you this topic is not open for discussion.”

Suze looks at me. “29..nearly 30...that’s frightening. Speeding towards 40 now”.

“Yes, Suze.” I give her a filthy look. “I am very aware of the fact I’m aging.. can you please stop emailing me that picture with all the cats at the door saying that they’ve heard I’m nearly 40 and not married?”

“But it’s funny. At least you have some love interest this year, better than last year.”

She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Although I never hear you having sex.”

“Suze,” I grit my teeth. “Stop keeping tabs on my bedroom routine.”

“You need to do something regularly for it to become a routine.”

I suck in sharply. She had a point.

“It’s hard to make time. I’m working such long hours.” I snap defensively. “After a while, the s*x goes on the back burner, doesn’t it Cat?”

Cat frowns. ‘Not for me. I mean, you two are still in the honeymoon period; it’s been like eight months, right?”

The three of them sit on the sofa studying me.

“Why, Charlie, how often are you and Ben having s*x?” Cat asks.

The question rattles me.

“Oh well, you know as often as we can…,” I trail off, trying to remember the last time.

“Like, once a week?”

“Hmmm, well it depends, you know, I have been exhausted recently with work and everything.”

She stares at me “ok, so when was the last time?”

I gulp. ‘Maybe 4 weeks ago?’.

“4 weeks,” Stevie shakes his head, laughing. “He’s definitely getting it elsewhere.”

“He is not.” I shoot back defensively. Mind you, if he was, then it would mean I wouldn’t have to when I was tired.

What am I saying??

“I just haven’t wanted to lately,” I admit.

“Bloody waste of c**k!” Suze snorts. “Ben is damn gorgeous. If you don’t want it, I will!”

“You don’t want to?” Cat is staring at me. “Charlie, you have to have s*x with your boyfriend.

That’s the difference between a boyfriend and a friend.”

“I know that!” I wail.

I sigh, slumping into the chair. “I just don’t want to anymore. I wish I could, and until 4 weeks ago, I was really good at pretending that I enjoyed it, and I could do that at least once a week. Maybe twice if I’m drunk enough, but recently, I just can’t.”

I gulp a large mouthful of wine.

“But why don’t you like it?” Cat asks.

I think for a second. ‘I get distracted. And bored. Now it kind of feels like a chore, like hoovering’.

“Distracted?” Cat repeats, distraught. “Hoovering?”

“Doesn’t your mind ever wander when you are having s*x?”

“Not really. I’m pretty much thinking about the task at hand.” She smirks at Stevie, and I grimace.

”So, what do you get distracted by?”

I try to think back. “The last time we had s*x, the Seattle office had an open issue that I just

couldn’t get resolved, so I -”

“You got distracted by work?” Stevie interjects, laughing his head off. “That poor bloke. It must be like having s*x with a cardboard box.”

I narrowed my eyes on him.

“Charlie,” she hesitates, “is it s*x or…sex with Ben?”

“What do you mean?” I return dismissively. “I love Ben obviously, so it’s nothing to do with him. It’s me.”

“Yes, but if you think about it, you also love Barney.” I cannot believe she has just compared my boyfriend to my old dog.

“Cat, that is the worst comparison I have ever heard. I mean, I know you and Stevie are being adventurous in the bedroom, but -”

“Why, why would you think that?” she snaps defensively. I never told her about the whip I found in her bedroom when I went in to borrow her purple top.

“Oh, you know you just seem like the adventurous type.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she answers too quickly.

“Ben is coming round tonight.” Thinking about it, I take another large gulp of wine. If I get pissed, maybe I will get in the mood.

She thinks for a while. “OK, maybe you just need to spice things up a little. You are right; a couple can’t just do the same old boring thing and expect not to get a little complacent.”

“But what can I do?”

“Why don’t you try talking dirty to him?”

I’m listening. I have never really talked dirty to Ben before; it has just been a bit of ooh and aah put in for good measure.

I reach for my phone. Google will know what to do.