From Humble Beginnings (Joe Steel) Read Online Free Page B

disappointment.
    “Mum, I wondered where I’d find you.”
    Bo, Bernard’s eldest daughter, suddenly pops up out of nowhere. As ugly as Bernard is, somehow, he managed to create two beautiful daughters. Although that was probably to do with their mother’s genes. All I know is that Bernard’s first wife had been a model prior to her marriage and she’d died in a car crash. A few years down the line, Bo and Juliet had a new stepmother.
    Apparently the relationship was a good one. For Bo to call her mum that seemed apparent at any rate. “I was just talking to Joe. Such a good boy. Bernard always did like him.”
    Bo grimaces as her gaze flickers between Rebecca and I. There was an apology there and I shake my head, frowning slightly at her. Whatever Rebecca was, as mad as she is, she doesn’t need to be apologized for. There is an innocence about her that is refreshing; especially in these circles, where everybody deals in bullshit and arse licking. It’s like talking to a child amidst a crowd of sharks.
    “I’m glad he did; he showed a lot of faith in me by giving me the opportunities he has.” My words are soft and I receive a beatific smile from Rebecca, who lifts a hand to cup my cheek and pat it, like my grandmother used to do, when I was a young kid.
    “Such a good boy,” she repeats and with that, wanders off.
    “See you later, Joe. Juliet’s looking for you; she’s on the warpath.”
    Bo, apparently on Rebecca’s security detail, immediately sets off after her stepmother but I call out, “Thanks for the warning.”
    The cheeky grin she shoots my way as she half-turned has me smiling in response. Bo would never be the traditional elder daughter figure that Bernard wants. Juliet is traditional from her expensively-coiffured head to her pedicured toes. Bo is more of a hippy, a wild child. She’d foregone all attempts at polish and wore a floaty silk dress that wafts around her as she moves. It’s an expensive gown nevertheless; the raw silk alone had probably cost a fortune! But not for Bo the structured tailoring that was at the very heart of Bernard’s fashion empire. No, she had deconstructed lines and no shoes on her feet!
    I’d hazard a guess that Bernard hasn’t noticed that.
    Or if that isn’t the case, then there’d probably been a major row before the party started.
    Tucked between some topiary, I thought I’d been in a strategic place. One that hid me from view of the major hustle and bustle of the crowd, but at the same time, gave me an ample view of everything that was going on.
    Apparently my calculations had been out. Not only have I been spotted by two of Bernard’s relations, the third one soon appears in my line of sight. And Bo wasn’t wrong. Juliet is most definitely on the warpath. But Christ, it looks good on her.
    Boadicea eat your heart out.
    “What the hell are you doing down in the garden?” she hisses at me as she comes to a stomping halt; although how she manages that in four inch spiked stilettos without breaking her neck, I don’t know.
    It’s a miracle only achieved by the opposite sex. Making standing on needles look easy and sexy.  
    In a dress that has my blood pressure surging, for a few minutes, I just stand there and gawp. In the shadows, hidden from all the candles and the strands of lights that illuminate the party, I doubt she’ll notice that I’m quite literally star struck.
    Red.
    Top to toe in scarlet.
    A colour so vibrant that Juliet’s raven hair seems even darker. Even blacker in contrast to the passionate hue that moulds her form from wrist to hip, where flounces of fabric cascade down to her ankles. Her top half is covered in the silky-jersey knit, which I recognize as one of the materials Rustin’s weaves, and it clings to her every inch. Cupping her breasts in an intimate hold that makes my own hands feel envious. Clasping her waist and hips with a silken caress before a profusion of fabric clouds my view of her legs and almost like a