Slow Dancing

By hepburnettes

10.8M 449K 138K

After a car accident leaves Kaden Bretton temporarily blind, Isla Moore struggles to break up with him while... More

Slow Dancing: now a six-part series!
foreword
01 | anacrusis
02 | da capo
03 | bis
04 | colla parte
05 | oppure
06 | poco a poco
07 | legato
08 | en pressant
09 | rubato
10 | volti subito
11 | caesura
12 | prima volta
13 | forte
14 | ad libitum
15 | nocturne
16 | lo stesso
18 | sin al fine
19 | vibrato
20 | in mod di
21 | dal segno
22 | fermata
23 | en retenant
24 | assez
25 | ier mouvt
26 | glissando
27 | l'autre
28 | entendre
29 | di nuovo
30 | nocturne
31 | in mod di
32 | tanto
33 | ma non troppo
34 | senza
35 | con amore
36 | fuoco
37 | maelzel's metronome
38 | senza
39 | ritardando
40 | tempo di valse

17 | tenuto

294K 15.1K 5.7K
By hepburnettes


1 7

t e n u t o

[It.] : Keep, hold, grip; sustain without detachment.


I ENDED UP overstaying my welcome as Kaden's fever continued through the night, subsiding but spiking back up again every few hours. The night wore on as I alternated between cooling him off with wet towels and propping him up so that he could take his medicine.

It wasn't until four in the morning when his fever showed signs of fading, and I set the alarm on my mobile for five so that I could check up on him, before collapsing onto the sofa in fatigue. Sleep came quickly as it always did when I wore myself out and I supposed I must've overslept, because when I next opened my eyes, the sky outside was bright, sunlight streaming in through the windows.

I immediately jolted awake, faltering when I noticed a white blanket draped over me. Blinking blearily, I saw Kaden leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug in his right hand, texting on his mobile with the other. Several papers were spread out in front of him which could only mean one thing – he was back to work again.

"What time is it?" I blurted, feeling momentarily disoriented.

Kaden flicked a brief glance over at me before returning his attention back to his phone. "Seven-fifteen."

"But my phone was supposed to – "

"You couldn't even hear it when it rang next to you. I had to get out of bed to turn the bloody thing off."

"Oh." Climbing to my feet, I picked up the blanket and folded it neatly, placing it on the sofa. He paused, watching warily as I headed over to him. "How're you feeling?"

He ducked when I reached out a hand. "I'm fine."

"Have you taken your temperature?"

When he didn't reply, I resisted the urge the roll my eyes and went into his room. His bed-sheets were rumpled and well slept in, but I paused when I realised that the blanket from his bed was conspicuously missing. I came back out with the thermometer in hand, glancing suspiciously at him.

"Did you give me your blanket?"

He kept silent, but silent meant consent, and I felt my heart constrict as I looked over at the white blanket left on the sofa. Stifling a smile, I held out the thermometer to him, waiting as he took his temperature. The moment he was done, he glanced down at it, eyes narrowing just fractionally but it was a good enough indicator and I grabbed the thermometer before he had a chance to react.

"You're still feverish," I said flatly, meeting his gaze squarely when he glared at me. "You can't work now, you have to get more rest."

"I don't – "

But the words seemed to freeze on his tongue when I took him by the arm gently, tugging him in the direction of his bedroom. I blatantly ignored all his aggravated protests, remembering to take the blanket on the way back to the room. He fell silent when I fluffed the pillows, easing him back down onto the bed and tucking the blanket over him.

"After my catastrophe in the kitchen yesterday, I think I'll call room service," I told him, "Just go back to sleep. I'll wake you when the food's here." I turned to leave but paused when he called my name softly.

"Isla," his gaze was guarded but searching all the same. "Why're you doing this?"

Maybe sleep had cleared my head. And if I couldn't lie the night before, I sure as hell knew that I couldn't lie this time. And maybe Dad was right – maybe Kaden Bretton was just as terrified as I was, although I didn't know why he had to be, and one of us had to take the first step.

Have a little courage, Isla.

Smiling softly, I reached forward to press a kiss to his cheek, the corners of my lips tugging up in a wider smile when he froze, his breath seeming to hitch at the sudden contact.

"Because, this doesn't mean nothing to me," I told him, watching as a flicker of recognition dawned in his eyes when he remembered the words he'd uttered the night before. "It means everything to me."


▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬


Kaden was well enough to return to work the next day. But both of our absences certainly didn't go unnoticed, and I caught more than the fair share of intrigued glances from my co-workers the next morning. Even Stella, who normally didn't bother herself with office gossip, couldn't help but ask where I'd disappeared off to. I had simply shrugged and told her that there was an emergency I had to attend to, but the knowing glint in her eyes made me realise she didn't buy my story. Not one bit.

Kaden, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the change in the weather. For one thing, he hardly ever bothered with trivial gossip or even interacting with his subordinates. And for another, he spent the day holed up in his office, holding meetings that seemed to stretch on for hours.

I spent the first half of the day finished finalising the list of beneficiaries for the dinner, and sent the list to him just before he could start with the next meeting. But midway through, he stepped out, heading straight for my desk with the familiar piece of paper in his hands.

"I don't remember seeing this among the files," he said, not wasting any time with niceties. He placed the paper down on my desk, pointing quickly to the last place that I had added as an afterthought.

I faltered, casting a hesitant glance over at the open door of his office. "Was this part of the meeting?"

"Of course not," he tossed back in faint aggravation, before tapping the list impatiently. "So why is this orphanage included on the list?"

"I thought they might need some help."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, every charity organisation does, but why this one?" He persisted, studying me closely with shrewd green eyes. "You do understand that we're going way past our budget if we include this orphanage, because it's a public one and not subsidised by private funding?"

Yes, of course I knew that. That was the reason why my mother used to help them. For a moment, I could picture it all – the faint memory of a blond-haired woman who read fairytales to orphans every Saturday, with her five-year old daughter perched comfortably on her lap, listening to her every word with rapt attention.

"You don't have to include Breckenridge. It was just a suggestion," I said at last, before staring up at him curiously. "Were you going through the list during your very important meeting with very important people?"

He glared at me coldly, but I watched with great satisfaction as a slight hue of pink tinged his cheeks. Hell, I was enjoying this. The look of sheer irritation intermingled with faint embarrassment on Kaden's face was too good to be true.

"I was multi-tasking," he returned defensively.

"And thought it'd be a good idea to walk out midway through the meeting to have a less than productive discussion with me?"

Kaden threw me a frosty look before snatching up the list and striding back into his office, slamming the door shut behind him. I stared at his shut door and allowed a tiny smile to bloom across my face. Getting a reaction out of the ever-indifferent Kaden Bretton was definitely proving to be one of life's greater accomplishments.

Reluctantly, I went back to sending out a mass email regarding the financial reports due by the first quarter of the month. Midway through the email, the intercom buzzed from security on the first floor and I hastily picked up before the sound of it could distract the people in Kaden's office.

"Mr Bretton's office, how may I help you?"

The voice from the other end didn't sound like Dylan's at all, but one of the older workers from the front desk. "Mr Lawrence Bretton is here to see his son. Shall I send him up?"

I froze. It seemed like my heart had momentarily stopped beating. The blood rushed to my ears and I suddenly thought about the consequences that could result in me actually being here. Did Kaden's father actually know that I was here?

It seemed terribly unlikely, given the fact that he and his wife were so adamant on breaking us apart in the first place.

Swallowing hard, I gripped the phone tighter against my ear. "Mr Kaden Bretton is in a meeting right now. Is it possible for his father to wait?"

"I'm afraid not. Mr Lawrence Bretton is already on his way up."

The line went dead, and I listened to the cracking buzz of the intercom for a moment before taking a deep breath and hitting the button on the intercom to call Kaden's office.

A moment later, he picked up, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "What?"

"Sorry to spring this on you," I rushed out, hardly caring for formalities at this point, "but your father is on his way up to see you."

"He's not – "

But before Kaden could finish his sentence, I heard the ping of the lift and quickly slammed the phone down. Rushing to my feet, I grabbed my mobile and headed swiftly for the lavatory which, unfortunately, was adjacent to the lift lobby but there was really nowhere else to run, short of hiding under my desk.

Just as I rounded the corner, I caught sight of Lawrence Bretton in my peripheral vision. Tall and imposing, he cut a grim figure in his black suit. The slope of his nose was just the same as Kaden's, with the same rugged, masculine jawline, and he looked every bit as frightening as I'd expected him to be, even though the grey streaks in his jet black hair gave away his age.

I quickly slipped past the corner, heading straight towards the bathroom. It wasn't until I was safely inside when I finally allowed myself to relax. Bracing my arms on one of the sinks, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and tried to blink away the fear in my eyes.

Breathe, Isla.

Just breathe.

But the cracks had surfaced and I felt my composure crumbling after having pieced it back together so long ago. All I could think about was Adelaide forcing me to leave Kaden and threatening my family. Lawrence, despite me never having met him before, was probably well aware of everything that had transpired too. I both loathed and feared the two of them, and could not understand how two people who used such underhand means could raise such a good person like Kaden.

Just thinking about it made a slow fury course through my veins and I shut my eyes.

Breathe, Isla.

Just breathe.


▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬


It took me a good hour or so before I finally pulled myself together and ventured back to my desk. And it was only because I had seen Lawrence Bretton leaving Kaden's office and heading down the lift. In fact, it wasn't just Lawrence who had left, but the rest of the clients from the meeting earlier.

To my surprise, Kaden was waiting impatiently by my desk when I returned, his eyebrows tightened in a weary, annoyed frown which deepened when he saw me. "Where the hell were you?"

"Stomachache," I bit out breezily, carefully avoiding his gaze and settling back down onto my chair. "Do you need me to do anything?"

He ignored my question and stared at me keenly instead. "Are you ill?" He asked at last, and I raised my eyes to meet his, feeling rather startled.

"What – "

But he pushed himself off the desk, an odd, frustrated look on his face that wasn't quite directed at me. "See, I fucking knew it. I told you not to come near me," he rambled, sounding well and truly annoyed, "I told you that you'd catch whatever stupid virus that was in my system and you'd fall sick too – "

I watched him, a tiny smile playing on my lips. "Kaden – "

" – but no, you're so bloody stubborn you wouldn't even listen – "

"Kaden."

" – I swear, if you would just fucking listen for once and stop involving yourself in my – "

"Kaden." He stopped mid-ramble and looked at me. I smiled up at him. "I'm not sick."

He blinked, looking adorably confused for a moment. "What?"

"I'm fine," I explained, the corners of my lips tugging up in a wider smile when I saw the slow flicker of realisation dawning in his eyes. "You kind of worried yourself over nothing for a minute there. Nice to see that you still care, though," I couldn't help but add, my voice light and teasing.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't fucking delude yourself into thinking that I do because I don't," he tossed back flippantly, heading back into the office and slamming the door shut behind him for the second time that day.

I smiled and picked up my pen, biting back the urge to barge into his office and rectify exactly what I knew he meant.

Don't delude yourself into thinking that you don't because maybe you do.


▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬


Days flew by and things at work got busier by the day as the date for the company function loomed in the horizon. Kaden seemed to keep a careful distance from me, and even made it a point to go out with different clients. On more than one occasion, he had me arrange a lunch or dinner with various females, a more prominent one being Diane Crossbow, who seemed to have developed a permanent stink-eye whenever she saw me in the office. There were two others whose names occasionally came up – like the well-known fashion designer Lia Peyton and Callen Sterling, one of America's richest and most famous socialites.

While a part of me did wish that I could at least figure out what was going on in Kaden's ever-elusive mind, a more rational part of me knew that it was really none of my business. Nolan, however, seemed adamant on assuring me that nothing was happening between Kaden and those women.

"There's one thing you should know about Kaden – he's a terrible flirt," Nolan said one afternoon, when he dropped by a good forty-five minutes earlier before his meeting with Kaden. To my greatest surprise and gratitude, he had brought along a box of pizza, sustenance that I was sorely in need of because I had been far too busy to even go out for lunch.

Nolan was now sitting on my desk, hungrily chomping down on a slice of pizza as though he hadn't seen food in years, and telling me about Kaden in between hearty bites.

"I'm not sure what it is about him that makes him so terrible at it," Nolan continued, "maybe it's his overall antisocial behaviour, or his lack of people skills in general. But he really can't come up with a good pickup line to save his life."

"Kaden has a lack of people skills?" I echoed in disbelief. It seemed difficult to actually imagine it, because Kaden's two friends were about the most charming people I knew.

"Of course," Nolan scoffed, shooting me an incredulous look as though he couldn't believe I didn't already know it. "Like – there was this one time in a bar, he went up to a girl and said, 'hi, uh – is it really hot in here or is it just me? No, wait, it's you!'"

I immediately choked. It took me a good ten seconds to recover and another fifteen to take sips of the water Nolan hastily offered to me. When I had finally ensured that my food wasn't lodged up my air pipe, I turned to Nolan, my eyes bright and laughing. "Are you serious?"

"I wish I weren't," Nolan replied, shaking his head in mirth. "He's so bad at it that neither Parker nor I want to act as his wingman. However much charms we turn on, he just turns the ladies right off because he's either painfully detached or ridiculously awkward."

Stifling a chuckle, I leaned back in my chair and took another bite of my pizza. Nolan and I ate in companionable, comfortable silence for awhile before he reached for the stack of napkins, wiping the oil carefully off his fingertips.

"By the way," he said, "speaking of bars, do me a favour and clear out Kaden's schedule for next Saturday night."

I cast a quick look over at the calendar on my desk. "Because of his birthday?"

Nolan nodded. It wasn't a surprise. I'd already had that marked out, and I wouldn't even have found out about it if it wasn't for the fact that Diane Crossbow had pre-arranged a birthday lunch with Kaden on the actual day of his birthday, which was this Thursday.

"Are you planning a party for him?" I couldn't help but ask, feeling rather curious.

Nolan arched an eyebrow. "Kade's possibly the most antisocial person I've ever met. Do you really think I'd celebrate my best friend's birthday by putting him in such an awkward situation, even though that'd be absolutely hilarious to watch?"

"You act like he's terrible at interacting with people," I shook my head, "doesn't he have to interact with dozens of people at company dinners and such? Or during meetings on a daily basis?"

"Oh, that's part of his job. He's good at that. But when it comes to social gatherings for the sole purpose of, well, being social, he's hopeless at it. Can't carry out a decent conversation to save his life."

I felt rather amused and simply couldn't resist the little dig. "I think you're forgetting that he's the one I danced with on my sixteenth birthday, while you're the one I tried to hide from."

Nolan smirked. "Oh, darling, please. Don't you remember – we bonded wonderfully over the chocolate fountain."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "It was a lovely chocolate fountain."

"There's going to be one at the dinner your company's hosting at my hotel."

His words were sufficient for my eyes to light up and I sat up straight in my chair. "Really?"

He chuckled at my blatant excitement. "Compliments from yours truly."

In many ways, Nolan reminded me of Parker – they were both entirely generous and thoughtful, though through vastly different methods. "You did that?"

"Well – I suggested it. It's actually one of the sidepieces on the dinner menu, although it's rather pricey. I showed it to Kaden, casually mentioned that you may like something juvenile – "

"A chocolate fountain is not juvenile!"

" – very juvenile like it, and he readily agreed," Nolan finished, with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm telling you, Isla, Kaden Bretton is smitten and I look forward to being named the godfather of your firstborn."

It was difficult to stop the blush that promptly spread across my cheeks. "You're getting ahead of yourself, mate. Besides, Parker's going to be the godfather if I ever had a kid – and I don't necessarily mean with Kaden."

Nolan's mouth fell open in horror. "What? Why am I not the godfather?"

"Parker's my brother."

"Clearly not a very good one if he didn't bother to call godfather."

I grinned and shook my head at him. Picking up my pen with the hand that wasn't holding the half-eaten pizza, I reached over to the calendar and marked a quick, haphazard 'X' on one of the boxes as a reminder to free up Kaden's schedule.

"So next Saturday's Kaden's birthday celebration," I glanced over at Nolan for confirmation, and he shrugged.

"Sort of. It's just going to be the three of us heading out for a couple of drinks. Kaden doesn't like celebrations of any sort."

"So it's just you, Kaden and Parker? Why am I not invited?" I asked, a tiny smile playing on my lips. It honestly didn't matter to me whether I was invited or not, but I did want to rile Nolan up about it and hear any explanation he had to offer.

"Because you'll ruin the bromance," was Nolan's more than befuddling answer.

I stared at him. "What bromance?"

"The three-way romance between Kaden, your brother and me. Frankly, Isla, our bromance was just wonderful until you came along, you stupid fourth-wheel."

"Aw, poor baby," I cooed, deciding to play along. Resting my chin on the bowl of my palm, I stared up at Nolan in carefully feigned interest. "Am I ruining the glorious prospect of a threesome you had probably imagined over and over again in your pretty little head?"

"Don't you ever imagine it?" Nolan winked, "I mean, the three of us eligible bachelors doing unspeakable things to each other in the bedroom – "

"Nolan, for fuck's sake, stop corrupting my assistant."

A sudden, familiar voice effectively ended out conversation and Nolan and I whipped our heads around. Kaden was standing a good distance away, looking equally torn between embarrassment and aggravation. A woman stood next to him, staring at us with barely concealed intrigue. I immediately recognised her as Kaden's lunch date for today, Delia Johnston from the established pharmaceutical company located in Liverpool.

"Delia, this is Nolan Mortez," Kaden introduced, smoothly ignoring us and turning to her instead, "he owns the Mortezion, a chain of hotels which I'm sure you're familiar with since you're staying in one of them during this visit. And this is Isla Moore," he kept his eyes carefully averted from me. "She's my personal assistant."

I hadn't expected Kaden to introduce me. It took me completely by surprise, mostly because I was still midway through my second slice of pizza and my fingers were stained with grease. Hastily dropping the half-eaten pizza back onto a napkin, I quickly wiped my hands on another clean napkin before holding out a hand to her.

"Nice to meet you," I said politely, feeling rather amused when she stared at my hand with revulsion and ignored it completely.

She turned to Kaden instead, with little regard for Nolan and me, which was just as well, because I immediately went back to my pizza. Nolan had already whipped out his phone and was texting busily, but I knew that his ears were pricked and he heard every word. So were mine, and I tried to pretend like my pizza was way more interesting than their conversation.

"Thanks for the lovely lunch," Delia said, "I hope we can do this again soon."

"I'll send you back – " Kaden began, but he was abruptly cut off when she placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

"No need for that. I have a chauffeur waiting downstairs. Besides, I know how busy you are."

He frowned slightly, his good manners obviously getting the better of him and tried to argue, but she chuckled and reached up to press her lips to his cheeks, making sure to linger there for longer than was necessary.

I noticed Nolan cast a surreptitious, worried glance at me but I pointedly ignored it, despite the warring, conflicting emotions tightening my chest. Kaden wasn't mine, he had never been, and so there was no reason to be jealous. But that didn't stop me from feeling uncomfortable all the same, or from glancing away when Kaden's eyes flickered over to me.

"Call me, anytime," Delia added softly, but it definitely didn't go unheard by any of us. She turned to us. "Nice to meet you, Mr Mortez, Isla."

A tight smile curved my lips as I watched her leave. Again with the less-than-subtle reminder of my social status. Adelaide had done it before and clearly; Delia Johnston was following in the footsteps of the rich and snobby.

And suddenly, I was frustrated. Not because of Delia's obvious attraction to Kaden, or her blatant flirting. It was none of that.

It was the ever-pressing reminder that I was always going to be inferior to Kaden Bretton. I didn't even have to be dating him to be reminded of that. My status and everything about me was so inferior that, to some people, I didn't even deserve to be in the same room as him, breathing the same air he did. And I was frustrated, not at Delia, but at myself, for being so affected by what people thought of me.

"Er," Nolan's voice cut into the awkward silence. "I think I'm just going to go use the bathroom." He quickly stood up and strode away, looking utterly relieved to escape the tension.

Once Nolan was properly out of sight, Kaden turned to me, placing his hands on my desk, a calculative look in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am," I returned quickly, perhaps all too quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I – "

"You shouldn't delude yourself into thinking that this affects me, because it really doesn't."

The words slipped past my mouth before I could even think them through. It was so easy, tossing Kaden's words back at him and lying through my teeth.

But the moment Kaden flinched as though slapped, I regretted it. His features hardened, and he wrenched himself away from my table as though it scorched him. "My mistake," he snarled, and stormed back into his office without another backward glance.

We didn't speak for the rest of the day.

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