Can't Buy Me Love

A/N Another story, hope you all enjoy, comment and let me know what you think!

Marina Beaufort opened her eyes then groaned. Her head throbbed ridiculously, but then she had known it would, her last memory was snorting tequila from a teaspoon in a party in a kitchen...somewhere in the early hours. Opening her eyes again she realised three things. One she was in her own home, her own bed, secondly it was well after midday, and thirdly she was having her first real hangover...that’s what you got for mixing spirits, beer and wine.

She closed her eyes once more and rolled on to her front, burying her face in the pillows. When her headache started to ease, she managed to open her eyes again; her large Gucci shades were resting on the bedside table, so she reached for them and pulled them over her eyes. Life was suddenly a little more bearable.

Sitting up she reached for her robe and pulled it over her short vest, and lace panties. Pulling back her curtain she looked to the front of her father’s large mausoleum style house and saw her blue SUV parked haphazardly diagonally in the driveway.

With a groan she walked into her en-suite bathroom and winced at her reflection, her short black hair wasn’t at its best, sticking out at right angles to her head, her face beneath the shades was ghostly pale, no sign of the days spent ‘relaxing’ at the yacht club over the last three weeks.

How long until the excesses of alcohol, greasy food and more broke out in spots all over her skin? Marina didn’t like to think, but the thought of food both churned her insides and appealed...coffee and carbohydrates on top of an alcohol depleted stomach were the perfect combination. She pulled on a pair of lounge pants and her Uggs, then headed downstairs.

Thomas a greying middle aged man who reminded her of Alfred in the Batman TV series in more ways than just his looks, had been in her father’s employ as a ‘house manager’ for a few months apparently, and already he was indispensable. He had the ability to look down his nose at her in a sneering manner whilst arse-licking her father more than anyone she’d ever witnessed. He was waiting in the hall as she descended the huge marble staircase, looking like she’d not slept all night...and it felt like she hadn’t.

                “Thomas! I want Marco to drive me to a drive through? I need breakfast!”

                “He’s cleaning the cars Miss Beaufort!”

She laughed haughtily, “and I want some food Thomas, so he can stop cleaning the cars and take me to feed me! And if you have any objection, then call my father and debate it with him!”

Marina burst past him into the lounge and flicked on the fifty two inch plasma hating that this man made her snap so readily. She turned on MTV loudly until she heard the door to the staff area close then she flicked on the International news and caught up with the goings on in Europe...bad news about somewhere she loved was better than no news. But today a Military coup in the Congo and a hijacked vessel off the Somali coast dominated any headlines, so she was left with no link to her past.

A honk outside alerted her attention, so she made her way to the front door. Marco a young Italian-American chauffeur from New York was sat behind the wheel of her father’s Mercedes, skipping down the four steps to the drive, she dived in and didn’t speak until he hit a major road and he picked up his speed.

                “So what have you done Miss B? Thomas isn’t very happy!”

She groaned again Marco was the only man she trusted at the moment; he was beautiful, dark skin, hair and eyes, a really friendly guy in a world of rudeness and condescension, but disappointingly, he was also obviously gay, though she doubted her ultra conservative father had even realised, the fact that he was still employed spoke volumes.