Hard Lessons

  Table of Contents

  Books by Samuel King

  Title Page

  Legal Page

  Book Description

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Read more from Samuel King

  More exciting books!

  About the Author

  Pride Publishing books by Samuel King

  Single Books

  The Black Mask

  HARD LESSONS

  SAMUEL KING

  Hard Lessons

  ISBN # 978-1-913186-29-6

  ©Copyright Samuel King 2019

  Cover Art by Leah Kay Suttle ©Copyright October 2019

  Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Pride Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2019 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.

  Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.

  When his new student turns out to be a handsome property developer with a complicated past, teaching is the last thing on Jake’s mind.

  When recently single Jake heads off to rural Somerset for a job interview as a reading teacher, he’s expecting his pupil to be a child, but it’s the handsome and charismatic property dealer Nathan Foley who needs his help. Their relationship quickly becomes sexual, and Jake worries he is rushing into another relationship too fast. And, as the heat between them intensifies, Jake begins to question Nathan’s motives.

  Adding to the confusion is Nathan’s bitter older sister, Alice, who seems to have taken an instant dislike to Jake, as well as a strange man who Jake spots wandering around the grounds of the house.

  What is Alice’s problem? Who is the handsome stranger? And are Nathan Foley’s feelings entirely genuine? Perhaps Jake is the one who is about to learn a hard lesson.

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  The Phantom of the Opera: Gaston Leroux

  Mr. Men: Roger Hargreaves

  Affordable Art Fair: JCO’s Place LLC

  Brideshead Revisited: Evelyn Waugh

  Polo: PRL USA Holdings Inc.

  Jeep: FCA US LLC

  TASER: Taser International Inc.

  Chapter One

  During the taxi ride from the train station to the interview location, Jake began to wonder if his decision to escape London—and his ex, Matt—had been such a good idea. He wanted a change of scene, some time away from familiar places that held painful memories of himself and Matt together, but maybe he’d gone too far. He’d been in the cab for twenty minutes and, apart from one collection of cottages and a general store, he’d seen nothing but fields. He tried to relax and enjoy the scenery. If the job didn’t feel right or the location was just too remote, he didn’t have to take it. It might not even be offered to him.

  On paper, it looked perfect—a two-month, live-in position at a large house in Somerset, teaching basic reading to a student. Jake assumed the pupil was a young child, maybe about to start school, whose parents wanted to give them a head start. The agency hadn’t given much away, which would normally have annoyed Jake, but the trip to Somerset had been paid for, including overnight accommodation if he wanted it. Any time away from the flat that he still shared with Matt until he was able to raise the deposit for his own place, was welcome.

  Breaking up with Matt wasn’t the only challenge he’d had to face this year, and it was only March. He’d also lost his job as a copywriter at a small advertising agency. It had been his first job since university and he’d loved it, but the company had been forced to make cutbacks and he was the most junior person there and the last one employed. It was a case of last one in, first one out, and there was no redundancy as he’d not been there long enough to qualify. Three days after he’d received that bombshell, Matt had delivered the news that he was in love with someone else and felt their relationship had run its course.

  So, here he was heading to an address in the middle of nowhere, hoping for two months of escapism while he worked out what to do next with his life.

  “Nearly there,” said the driver, making Jake jump.

  “Oh, great,” he replied.

  “He’s a nice bloke, Mr. Foley,” said the driver, eyeing Jake in his rearview mirror. He was a gruff older guy, who had barely spoken since meeting Jake at the station. Five minutes later, he steered the car off the road onto a dirt track, which ended at two tall iron gates. The driver opened a window and leaned out, pushing an intercom button set in one of the brick gateposts.

  “Hello,” said a female voice.

  “Got a visitor for Mr. Foley.”

  There followed an electronic buzz and the gates swung inward. This was all much grander than Jake had been expecting. The mud track turned into a driveway, bordered on either side by trees and dense shrubbery. The drive wound around to the right on a steep uphill gradient and, as the taxi reached the top of the slope, Jake saw the house. It wasn’t quite a stately home, but it was impressive. The central section looked old. Jake was no expert on architecture, but judging by the red brickwork, arched windows and intricate decorative details around the main porch. He guessed it dated back at least one hundred and fifty years. Neo-Gothic, he thought it was called. In contrast, on either side of the original house, two modern wings had been built—three floors of glass and metal with huge arched windows dominating the top floors of both. It was a bold statement, risky even, but Jake liked it. He was looking forward to meeting the Foleys, whom he assumed had helped devise the design concept.

  “Here you are,” said the driver, pulling the car up a few feet from the stone steps that led to the front door. “The fare is all paid for on Mr. Foley’s account.”

  Jake momentarily struggled with the dilemma of whether to offer the driver a tip. Deciding that the driver was earning far more than him right now, he made a hasty exit from the vehicle. He didn’t look to see if the driver was showing his disapproval at the lack of a gratuity but hastened up the steps, pausing at the towering front door.

  He half expected to see a bell rope, like out of some old horror film, but instead, set in the wa
ll to the right-hand side of the door, was another intercom. Jake took a deep breath, wondering why he felt so nervous over an interview for a temporary job, and pressed the buzzer.

  He waited a few seconds, but no voice responded. Should I press again? While he was deciding, the door was flung open and a woman, wearing a fitted woolen dress and adorned with chunky but expensive-looking jewelry, stood smiling at him.

  “Jake?” she asked, pushing some of her thick blonde hair away from her face, perhaps to get a better look at him or maybe to offer a better view of herself. Jake guessed she was around thirty-five—or possibly older but ageing well.

  “Mrs. Foley?” he asked, stretching out his hand.

  “Miss Foley,” she replied, gripping his hand in both of hers and pulling him into the hallway. “I’m Nathan Foley’s sister. But please call me Alice.”

  “It’s good to meet you,” said Jake, taking in the expansive space.

  The hallway retained numerous original features, including a stone floor and a dark-wood staircase set against a bare brick wall to the left. A huge chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, like something from The Phantom of the Opera.

  “Don’t judge,” said Alice, following Jake’s gaze. “It came with the house and we didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. It’s also worth a fortune.”

  “Oh no,” said Jake hastily, “I like it.”

  “I prefer the modern parts of the house,” said Alice, gesturing him to follow her across the hallway and up the stairs. “Nathan’s in his office. He said to bring you straight up.”

  Nathan’s office was on the first floor in the modern west wing of the house. The door was made from a light wood set with several frosted-glass panels down the center. Alice gave three sharp knocks and a deep voice called, “Come in.”

  Alice pushed the door open.

  “Don’t let him bully you,” she whispered. “He’s very sweet really.”

  How to totally unsettle someone, thought Jake, but he offered Alice a smile and stepped into the room.

  Nathan Foley sat on a two-seater couch, not behind a desk as Jake had expected. He was in his early thirties, Jake guessed, dressed in jeans and a white shirt, sleeves rolled neatly up to reveal muscular lower arms. As Jake approached, Nathan remained sitting, legs wide apart, one arm draped across the back of the sofa, as if cozying up to an invisible date.

  “Hi,” said Jake, holding out a hand. “I’m Jake Holden.”

  Nathan finally leaned forward and grasped Jake’s hand, before gesturing to a chair opposite the couch. He smelled of expensive cologne and his handshake was firm.

  Jake sat and smiled expectantly at his interviewer. Nathan looked back at him without speaking. He had blue eyes, Jake noticed, which contrasted with his short, almost-black hair. He couldn’t remember ever seeing someone with such contrasting eye and hair color before. Nathan also had a strong jawline and a slight cleft in his chin. Jake guessed that if he smiled, he would also have prominent dimples. But looking at the stony face staring back at him, Jake wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see them.

  “Journey okay?” asked Nathan. He actually had quite a strong London accent, which surprised Jake. His sister’s voice certainly hadn’t suggested any working-class roots.

  “Yes, fine thanks. Very smooth. No disruption.”

  “Good.”

  Nathan gave Jake another prolonged stare before settling back on the sofa, legs falling apart again. Jake kept his gaze fixed on the other man’s face. Glancing down into his lap before the interview had even begun would not be cool, although that was where he wanted to look.

  “So, you have no experience teaching English,” said Nathan.

  “No, but the agency said that wasn’t necessary.”

  “But you do have an English degree?”

  “Yes. I got a first.”

  “And you feel confident you could teach someone the basics? I mean the real basics, like reading simple sentences, that sort of thing.”

  “Yes, I’m sure I could. I taught my nephew how to read when he was four. I’m good with kids.”

  Nathan cleared his throat and shifted his position.

  “You won’t be teaching any kids,” he said.

  “Sorry?”

  “No kids,” said Nathan gruffly. “Your pupil is not a child.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I just assumed.”

  “I would be your pupil,” said Nathan after another long pause.

  “Oh, I see,” Jake said, as Nathan focused his dark blue eyes on him.

  “Is that a problem?” Nathan sounded almost aggressive.

  “No, not at all,” replied Jake, trying not to get flustered.

  “I’m not stupid,” said Nathan. “I have a very successful property development company, but I wasn’t very good at school. What I mean is, I was never at school. My mother died when I was five, which screwed me up for years. For me, school was something to skip, and my father lost the plot for a while and didn’t care whether I went or not. Once he got over my mother’s death, he threw himself into running his building firm, which meant he still didn’t have much time for me.”

  “I see,” said Jake. “I’m sorry you had such a tough time. And I’m sure I can help.”

  “Well, it didn’t exactly hold me back,” said Nathan, glancing out of the window that took up most of one wall. Beyond lay a view of an emerald-green lawn, stretching to the edge of an orchard, and beyond that, endless rolling hills.

  “No, I can see that,” said Jake. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, can you read at all?”

  “Yeah, a bit. The truth is, I can probably read more than I think. It’s a confidence thing. In the past, I’ve relied on other people to read the important stuff for me—contracts and things like that. But recently I had an unpleasant experience. Someone I trusted took advantage of the fact that I couldn’t read and stole a fair bit of money from me. Not enough to cause huge problems, but it’s the principle. I don’t want to be made an idiot of again, which is why I need you.”

  “Or whoever you end up picking for the job,” said Jake with a smile.

  “I’m picking you,” said Nathan, his stare now so intense Jake felt himself grow hot. “If you want the job.”

  “I…” Jake floundered.

  “Have you changed your mind?” asked Nathan, his dark eyebrows raised.

  “No,” Jake assured him. “I just expected to be probed more. I mean, asked more questions.”

  Now Jake’s face burned.

  “Well, I need someone to start on Monday,” said Nathan, standing. He was at least six-foot-two and looked solid and powerful. “So, if you are interested, can you be back here by then?”

  “Yes, I…” Jake glanced at the small overnight bag he had set next to the chair.

  “Ah, did you want to stay the night?” asked Nathan.

  Jake almost made a joke about his new boss not wasting any time but thought better of it.

  “The agency did say I could,” said Jake. “Although I was expecting to be here until much later, so I could make it back to London tonight with no problem.”

  “The sooner you get back to London and get your stuff together, the sooner you can be back here,” said Nathan, almost smiling. “Why don’t we get you a taxi to the station now and you can head back here on Friday and get yourself settled in before teaching me everything you know.”

  “So that’s the day after tomorrow,” said Jake. “That works for me.”

  It meant he only had two nights to find somewhere to stay other than the flat he still shared with Matt.

  “Excellent.” Nathan rested a hand on his shoulder as they walked to the office door. “Try to find some books that you think we can work with,” he said. “Not Mr. Men books, I do have a basic grasp of words. I just need to build my confidence.”

  “I understand,” said Jake, feeling a sense of loss when Nathan finally removed his hand. He mentally chastised himself. He needed to be professional and not develop a crush on his boss.
Even so, he was already looking forward to Friday.

  Chapter Two

  Jake arrived back at the London flat by eight o’clock that evening. The one-bedroom apartment was set in a converted Victorian house in Islington, and for two years, it had been home. Now, as he turned on the lights and closed the door behind him, Jake felt like a trespasser. It had been Matt’s flat before they’d met, which intensified the feeling that Jake no longer belonged there. Perhaps it was paranoia, but as he walked through the living area, he was sure some of his belongings had been moved to less-visible spots. An armchair he had found in Camden Market seemed to have moved farther into a corner and the view of a painting he had bought from the Affordable Art Fair a year ago was now obscured by a lamp owned by Matt.

  Jake opened the bedroom door and froze. Two naked bodies lay across the bed, obviously post lovemaking. One of them was Matt, and Jake assumed the tall, toned black guy with his legs wrapped around Matt’s waist was his new lover. Matt hadn’t expected Jake home tonight and had obviously taken advantage of having the flat to himself.

  Jake backed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He had an overnight bag. He would check in to a cheap hotel if none of his friends could put him up. He heard one of the men stir and padded across the living room to the front door. He wanted to sit somewhere and sob, to release some of the pain he was feeling at being replaced and having to see the intimacy between Matt and the man he’d been replaced by. He heard someone yawn—it sounded like Matt—then he heard a soft moan and the creak of mattress springs. Jake felt like he had been stabbed. He yanked open the apartment door and fled down the stairs to the communal hallway.

  Once on the street, he stopped and took several deep breaths. He didn’t want to cry in public. It was good that he’d seen Matt with his new man. It made everything real. Now he would have to move on, and taking the job with Nathan Foley was the first step. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.