by Sofia Grey
Alex brushed a kiss against her lips. When he looked into her beautiful face, so loving and dear to him, he refused to believe they could have any problems.
She smiled. “We can park this until tomorrow, but we do need to talk.” Her lips sought his again. “I love you so much, Alex. I can’t believe we spent all night angry with each other. Come to bed with me?”
“Fuck, yes.” He held her hand as she dropped gracefully to the floor, then he flicked the master switch for the studio and followed her upstairs.
As they drifted to sleep, Alex wrapped his arms tight around her slender body. If she felt safe, then so did he.
“I think it was Rico.”
The whisper was so soft, he thought he dreamed it. “Huh?”
“I dreamed of Rico. He wanted me to do something.”
Alex forced his eyes open and kissed the back of her neck “Go to sleep. It was just a dream.”
He didn’t want to consider what it might mean.
Chapter Thirteen
When Nick talked to Lara on Monday evening, she was subdued. She said she was tired but happy to speak to him. When he suggested coming earlier to pick her up, she jumped at the chance.
This felt good. She wanted to come home. He’d try to juggle his meetings and travel up to Anglesey on Wednesday. He promised to call again the next day, told her he loved her, and disconnected with a daft grin on his face.
Everything was falling back into place in his world. Jordan had reverted to normal, and Lara was happy. Nick settled in front of the sports channel with a takeaway pizza and relaxed over a beer.
He caught up with Adele over coffee on Tuesday. She yawned non-stop and said she’d been out with Jason the night before.
Nick couldn’t help smirking. “Thought he wasn’t your type,” he said. “Late night, was it?”
“Yeah. But not like that.” She narrowed her eyes. “We went to a pub with some of his friends, but then he took me to a crummy place, where he played poker until stupid-o-clock.” She took a sip of her latte and screwed up her face in thought. “He was weird on the way home. Really wound up. He punched a lamppost. It scared me a bit, the way he freaked out.”
“Say that again?”
“You heard me right the first time. He swung at it, for no reason. His hand must hurt this morning. It bled all over him and the pavement.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m not going out with him again.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Her story was bizarre, to say the least.
“I know he smokes a bit,” she said, “but does he take anything else? He was hyper at first. Bouncing off the ceiling. I wondered if he was coming down from something, and that was why he went wacko.”
Nick shrugged. “Dunno. He’s never offered me anything. Maybe you’re right. May have been dodgy speed or something. Or a bad reaction.”
“Yeah.” She yawned again, and then fashioned a smile. “And how are things with the lovely Lara?”
Nick sat back and smiled. “She’s desperate to come home. I’m taking a couple of days off, and I’ll go and pick her up tomorrow.”
“Neat.” It was Adele’s turn to smirk. “I’m glad you’re sorted... Dad.”
He pretended to scowl. “I’m not ready for that yet.”
“Best to go sooner rather than later. We’ve got that conference in Paris next week.”
Nick had been so caught up in his problems, he’d forgotten about that. They were due to fly out first thing Monday and come back Friday. “I’ll talk to Jordan. Maybe take the rest of this week as annual leave.”
“Uh huh.” She flicked through her phone.
He couldn’t help peering at the screen, to see what she was doing. “And then we’re moving offices the week after, back to the old building. They’ve renamed it Genesis Tower. Fresh new beginning, and all that.”
“Uh huh.”
Was she listening? “It’s all part of the new cultural rules. Bible-reading sessions every morning and evening. Catholic mass every Friday.”
“Huh?” This time she looked up at him. “Say what?”
“I was messing with you. What’s so interesting on your phone?”
Adele pulled a face. “More garbage in the press. The editorial column in this week’s Business First is having a go at Thaddeus Merrill. They’re saying he’s lost his touch. That he should step down.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Same. I met him a few times in Houston, and he’s sharp as a Sabatier kitchen knife.” Adele wrinkled her forehead. “Thing is, if there’s no truth behind it, where did they get the idea from? Who would feed them rubbish like that?”
“Whoever it is, I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes when Thaddeus catches up with them.”
“If Thaddeus retired, would Jordan take over?”
Nick laughed in disbelief. “Are you saying Jordan would spread a story like this? He’s the most honest guy I’ve ever met.”
“You’re right, but everyone said that about Marcus Reeve, and he had an affair with one of his staff. Left his wife for her.”
Nick shook his head. “And he took a shitload of flak for it. Trust me. If someone’s spreading dirt, it isn’t Jordan.”
“Okay.” She furrowed her brow. “What if someone wants to make everyone think it’s Jordan?”
****
It was with some trepidation that Lara went downstairs on Tuesday morning. Did Sylvie and Alex make up last night, or was it still open warfare between them? She almost wished she’d stayed at her mum’s place. She found Sylvie in the kitchen, leaning over the table and flicking through a tabloid. There was no sign of Alex.
“Good morning.” Lara felt awkward, standing in the doorway.
Sylvie glanced up and smiled, but it was muted. “Hi. Did you sleep okay?” She looked as though she hadn’t slept at all. “Come in. Grab a seat.”
“Thanks.” She sat at the table and looked at Sylvie. “How are things this morning?”
Sylvie’s gaze stayed fixed on the newspaper. “I guess we’ve called a truce for the moment. He’s going ahead with it, but he’s agreed that we’ll talk about the details and I’ll be involved every step of the way.” She shrugged. “That’s probably as good as it gets. I’m not happy, but I’m going to have to accept it.” She looked at Lara, and there was a glimmer of a smile. “So you’re right; I’m a bit like Nick in that respect.”
“Where is Alex?”
“In the studio. He’s giving us a chance to catch up.” Sylvie straightened and stretched, while yawning. “Let’s make some breakfast.”
Lara made the tea, while Sylvie took care of the toast. Partway through buttering it, she paused and turned around, to face Lara. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” Her cheeks were pink, and she looked uncomfortable.
Lara felt a stirring of alarm. “Go on.”
“I’ve been a little indiscreet. I told my friend Kate about your baby and what Nick said, and she told Jordan. And if things are suddenly difficult with Nick and Jordan, that might be why. I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine, but you ought to know. I’m sorry. Really. I was upset about your news, and I offloaded onto Kate, but Jordan was there too.”
Lara had no idea what Sylvie was talking about. She held up a hand to stop her rambling. “Hang on a minute. Do you mean Jordan Merrill?”
Sylvie nodded.
Yep. She was confused “But how do you know Jordan Merrill? If it’s not a silly question.”
“He lives next door, with his wife Kate. We’re friends with them both. And Jordan was an old friend of Rico, which is how I came to meet Alex.”
“Oh.” Lara didn’t know what to say.
Sylvie rushed on. “Jordan’s such a nice guy. He’s honest and easy to talk to. I keep forgetting he runs TM-Tech. I should introduce you sometime. And Kate is one of my closest friends—after you, of course.”
Lara backtracked in her head. “Jordan Merrill knows I’m preg
nant and that Nick wanted me to have a termination?”
Sylvie nodded, the pink glow going even brighter. She covered her cheeks with her hands. “Gods. I’m such an idiot sometimes.”
On the one hand, Lara was embarrassed, but on the other, it was quite funny. She chuckled, and Sylvie raised her eyebrows. Next minute, Lara snorted with laughter. “If Jordan is giving Nick a hard time, it’s no more than he deserves for being a complete dickhead.”
“Harsh,” said Sylvie, “but fair.” She chuckled.
In the midst of the hilarity, Nick sent a text to Lara. His ears must have been burning.
Hi. Boss says I can take a few days off. How about I pick you up tomorrow? Let me know. N xxx
That would be great. She was ready to go home, and she replied straight away.
Yes pls. I’ll send you the address. Can’t wait to see you. L xxx
Sylvie looked sad at the news. “I was looking forward to having some time with you, but I guess I need to sort out this business with Alex first.” She sighed. “At least you two are okay now.”
Lara hugged her tight. “We will be, and so will you. Just hang in there. And if you need to run away to my place, my door is always open.”
****
Thanks to Alex’s staying in the studio for most of Tuesday, Sylvie was able to spend the day uninterrupted with Lara. They dodged the rain showers and walked on the beach, and Sylvie showed her around Holyhead and the pretty local villages. Alex joined them for dinner, but then disappeared again while they watched some girly movies.
He came to bed in the early hours, and they snuggled together. The truce held, but they’d have to talk about the adoption soon. She dreaded the conversation. She wanted the chance to enjoy a life with Alex before they had kids. Was it wrong of her to feel like that?
Just because it was Sam’s name on the birth certificate, it didn’t mean this was Sam’s child. Celia might have claimed that, thinking she could get a hotline to Alex and handouts whenever she wanted them. If she’d done drugs while she was pregnant, the kid might have special needs, and that would be a whole new ballgame. There was more to having children than giving them a bedroom, and sending them to school every day.
Alex was relaxed beside her, his breath warm on her neck and one arm curled around her middle. She couldn’t be more comfortable, but her eyes wouldn’t close.
The nightmares didn’t help. Either she’d hear a voice calling her name, or she’d be searching for something—or someone. They were vague. Evil lurked in the shadows, and she had the sense that she was running out of time. She’d wake most nights with a cry on her lips and her heart clattering painfully, and then spend another hour trying to calm down.
She refused to see a psychologist. That would be as good as admitting she had a problem. It was stress, that was all.
Nick arrived the next day, to a rapturous welcome from Lara. It seemed like years since Sylvie hung out with Lara and Nick. They used to go to the pub on Friday evenings—Sylvie with her then-boyfriend-Chris, Lara with Nick, and a bunch of other TM-Tech people. How her life had changed since then... Sometimes she missed the simplicity of those days.
She greeted Nick with a hug. It was good to see her friends getting back to normal, and judging by their clinch when he arrived, they were still very much in love.
Meanwhile, Alex was quiet, and Sylvie had to work hard to behave as a happy newlywed. Nick and Lara stayed for lunch. To Sylvie it felt awkward, but she managed to cover any gaps in the conversation.
They left mid-afternoon, and Sylvie took her time tidying up the dishes from lunch. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and worry descended like a black cloud. They were going to have The Talk.
She couldn’t spin out the cleaning any longer. She took a seat at the kitchen table, wrapped her hands around a tepid mug of coffee, and stared at Alex as he sat opposite her. “So.” She kept her tone light. “Let’s talk about this.”
“Yeah.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze. He drummed his fingers on the table top in a staccato rhythm, and Sylvie gritted her teeth.
“Let’s recap. You’re going ahead with this.”
“I have to.”
Stay calm, she told herself. Yelling won’t help. “What happens next?”
“I’m not quite sure.” He spoke haltingly. “I’ve had some legal advice, and it looks as though the quickest option is fostering. Since I’m family, it seems to make it easy. Then, after three months, we can start adoption proceedings.” He rubbed at a mark on the table top. “It seems easy,” he repeated.
“And what do you know about this kid?”
He looked up, and she was struck by the raw emotion on his face. “His name is Callum, and he’s eighteen months old. I’m all he’s got.” He paused. “We’re all he’s got.” There was a note of pleading in his voice.
“We live a weird life, Alex. How do you propose we look after him?”
Hope flashed across his eyes. “We’ll get a nanny. Full time.” He gave a tentative smile. “We’ve got more than enough room, and it’s not as though we can’t afford it.”
Sylvie licked dry lips and tried to speak normally. “In the real world, what do we do? Charlie and Mick will be arriving in a few days, and we’ve got publicity and stuff to deal with.” She swallowed. “The memorial service. And the rest of the tour in January.” She ordered her thoughts. “Where do we fit him in?”
“Fuck knows.” Alex lifted his gaze to the window, at the fading afternoon light. “Let’s talk about this outside.”
He meant on the beach, his bolthole when he needed somewhere to collect his thoughts. They silently donned boots and waxed coats, and set off down the garden. As they scrambled over the crumbled wall, he reached out to take her hand. With their fingers meshed, they walked together. There was maybe an hour of daylight left, with rain-filled clouds hanging low.
“Such a shame,” said Sylvie as they strolled along the sand. “We missed the summer here this year.”
Alex grunted his agreement, and they walked silently up the long stretch of beach, curving away past the bottom of Jordan’s garden and towards the dunes that separated public land from the RAF base. A light drizzle started when they turned to walk back, and Alex released her hand, wrapping his arm around her shoulders instead.
He pulled her close into the side of his body. “Sometimes things happen that you can’t predict—that you don’t expect. And you have to react.” His voice was low. “Sometimes they’re good things, sometimes bad. What happened to you was bad, but it brought us together, and that’s good. Sam dying was bad. But if he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have come here, and I’d never have met Kate and Jordan and you. I might have OD’d, myself.” They walked a little further. “Did I tell you how I met Kate?” He glanced at Sylvie, and she shook her head.
He smiled. “It was the anniversary of Sam’s death. I was about to immerse myself in a bottle of vodka, with no plans to surface in the immediate future, when these two pretty women arrived on my doorstep in the rain, to invite me to a party.”
“Kate and Louisa?”
“Yep. It was raining, so I invited them in. We had some wine, and I ended up going back to their house for dinner.” He paused. Several yards later, he spoke again. “It felt as though Sam had sent two angels to look after me, when I most needed it. I was the older brother, and it was always me who looked out for Sam, but now it felt as though he was returning the favour. And now, with this child, it’s like my last chance to do something for him. Something to make sure he isn’t forgotten.”
Tears pricked at her eyes. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch. I was shocked and angry that you didn’t even consult me. And I’m scared. It’s a huge responsibility, and I feel inadequate for it.”
Alex started to talk but she carried on, not letting him speak. “It’s been hard for me this year, Alex, and I’m still finding my feet with the band and trying to get used to this crazy life. Sometimes I want to get off the ride and go back to being the old Sylvie, w
ho worked in an office and whose weekly highlight was a night at the pub.” Her eyes stung, and she rubbed at them with one hand. “I feel as though I’m walking on a tightrope and someone’s whipped away the safety net for a laugh. You told me it was terrifying when you go out on stage, but I don’t think that comes close. If you weren’t there beside me, I couldn’t do it.” She contemplated a moment. “I’m only doing it because you’re there with me. Because you make it okay.” Tears trickled out of her eyes, and Alex stopped walking.
He pulled her into his arms and held her, warm and safe, her face pressed into his chest. “Would you rather not? Be in the band, I mean?”
She stared up into his anxious face. “Hell no. Let you loose with all those freaky fans? If I’m there to keep an eye on you, you have to behave.”
He smiled at her words, but it was touch and go. “I’m scared too,” he said. “About the adoption. I’m not good parent material, am I? Ex-drug-addict. Borderline alcoholic. Hell-raiser. Reformed womaniser. In the tabloids most weeks. What happens if we foster him, and then get rejected for adoption and lose him again? What if I’m too selfish to care for him?”
Sylvie felt strangely relieved. This was Alex talking, the open and honest man she fell in love with. He was trusting her and opening up, instead of shutting her out.
“Just as well you married a clean young woman.” It came out choked, and he squeezed her more tightly. If only they could stay like that forever.
The drizzle was turning into a steady fall, and they were getting wet, but they’d found each other again. At least for the moment.
****
It seemed that every time Jordan left his office, he met Adele. It was happening too many times to be a coincidence.
On Wednesday she asked again if he’d like to play squash, using a slot she booked with Nick.
On Thursday she invited him to give a presentation to her team. The room was overcrowded, and she ended up practically sitting in his lap. She requested a debriefing afterward, but he made an excuse to leave.
On Friday morning, it was her weekly catch-up. She’d suggested they hold it off site at a local café, but Jordan said he was too busy. She then turned up with takeout drinks. A large espresso for him, along with his favourite choc chip cookies. She’d obviously been asking Cassie about his preferences. Again she sat way too close for comfort, on the pretext of going through a contract with him, line by line.
