by F. C. Clark
I’m lost in the world of fashion and glitter when someone touching my bare foot causes me to scream. I turn to see the culprit, and remove my ear buds.
‘Sorry, I did knock.’
Holy shit – what the hell is Bradley Taylor doing in my office?
I give him a friendly smile, and sit up.
‘Hi, what are you doing here?’
‘Pleased to see you too,’ he responds drolly.
I reach across and tap his arm. ‘That’s not what I meant. I didn’t know you were coming here today.’
‘Luke needed my contracts before I head back to New York this evening, and I’ve just had a meeting with the Coopers. I thought I’d bring you up to speed.’
‘That’s nice for you – feel free to use antibacterial wash.’
‘Cat fighting at such an early hour. I agree, Philip Cooper is an acquired taste.’ He moves towards the leather wing-back chair.
‘Acquired taste!’ I shift in my seat and sit cross-legged. ‘What can I say? He makes my skin crawl.’
Bradley laughs. ‘Don’t hold back, Kate.’
‘I told you, I’m always honest.’ His eyes fix on mine. Shit, I’ve now given him a reason to return to the evening in question, and his declaration of his feelings for me. I need a diversion. ‘Do you like homemade cakes?’
He smirks. ‘Actually, I wanted to take you and Luke out to lunch.’
‘Oh. Luke isn’t here – he has another meeting somewhere, I can’t remember where.’ Once again he begins to laugh. ‘Something I said?’
He sits back in the chair, resting his leg on his knee, running his hand through his mid-length wavy hair. ‘The more I’m in your company, the more I understand you.’
‘There really isn’t a great deal to understand – what you see is what you get.’ I gesture from my head to my toes.
‘And that’s what’s so enchanting about you.’
I laugh. ‘Enchanting?’
‘What I want to say, I can’t.’ He sighs and rubs his jaw. ‘Luke is a lucky man. Jesus, my timing is crap.’
Fuck! I look away.
‘Hey. I like what I see, even though I can’t touch.’ He holds his hands up. ‘What are you working on?’ He leans towards the coffee table and picks up a drawing.
I breathe a sigh of relief that the subject has changed. ‘The Harper Jones fashion line for next year.’
‘I don’t know a huge amount about fashion, but these look good.’
‘Thank you. I’m not sure you can call it work – working with pens.’
‘I buy clay in bulk: when I design buildings, I like to sculpt them too.’ He places the drawings on the table. ‘So, it’s just us for lunch.’
‘That’s fine; I’m sure you have a million things to do.’ I begin to clear away my art and crafts.
‘No, I just have to be at Heathrow for six o’clock. Kate, I don’t bite; we can sit and eat lunch together.’
I look up from the table – you don’t bite? Every word he says feels slightly ambiguous. Am I looking for his words to confuse me?
‘So that’s settled.’ He looks at his watch. ‘I took the liberty of reserving a table at Gasto’s – do you know it?’
I shake my head. Crap, I need to explain this to Luke. Hey babe, I went to lunch with the man who wants to take me to his bed…
‘If you like Italian food, then you’ll love it.’
‘OK – my driver can take us.’ I stand up and Bradley joins me, almost within kissing distance. The air seems to shimmer with sex – from him. ‘I’ll just tell Thomas that we need to go.’
Thankfully we arrive at Gasto’s relatively quickly. The journey was uncomfortable, as I felt the need to gabble so much that even Thomas looked at me in his rear-view mirror. However, my chattering did keep Bradley silent, and the conversation remained decent.
Having never been to Gasto’s before, I had no expectations of it. It’s incredibly modern, almost odd. It has small alcoves with bizarre paintings and handmade ceiling lights made from reclaimed metal, making it feel more like an art gallery. Thankfully, we are sitting in the main part, in full view of everyone. On the plus side, the menu choices are divine; the seafood pasta has me drooling.
‘What do you think?’ Bradley says, dipping bread in oil.
‘Different!’ I look around the room as Bradley laughs. ‘Truthfully? It’s a little too weird for me.’
‘My friend designed the layout – he’s a bit eccentric.’
‘That explains quite a lot.’ I join him, dipping bread in oil.
‘So you like to design?’
‘Harper Jones has come about through fate: I worked with Mr Jones, who is responsible for the drawings and an amazing tailor – actually he’s the best.’ I take a sip of wine, washing away the breadcrumbs and oil from my mouth. ‘I came into some money; the rest is history. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.’
‘Determination and believing in your brand is key to success in any business – clothes, buildings, whatever.’
‘Maybe. Time will tell. What about you? Are you excited about the job in Dubai?’ Are you excited that my future husband wants to exile you to another part of the world? More to the point, has Bradley worked out Luke’s devious plan?
‘It’s an amazing opportunity and I welcome the challenge.’
I nod. I bet he does!
‘I did want to see Luke as I have a few ideas – small alterations that may save his wallet.’
‘I can call him for you.’ Luke will love that I called him, only to hear Bradley’s voice, but to mention his name in conversation would seem I’m honouring him.
‘No, I’ll call him when I get back to New York. Besides, I’m here with a beautiful woman, why would I want to talk to anyone else?’
I roll my eyes. ‘Bradley Taylor, you’re the biggest flirt.’
‘Flirting! Not something I’m normally interested in, but you stir something in me Kate. I told you – in my arms and in my bed… exactly in that order.’
My phone vibrates in my bag. I reach in to find it, only to have missed the call. Caller ID: boss. Has Thomas told him about my lunch date – correction, meeting? I slip my phone in my bag.
After the meal Bradley scrolls through his laptop showing me the developments at the Rosewood Ivy. The transformation from when I saw it all those weeks ago is amazing.
‘The staircase looks incredible.’ I laugh. The first Harper–Cooper stand-off, and I can imagine that it won’t be the last.
‘That was a good call, Kate.’ Bradley catches the eye of a waiter. ‘Can I get the check, please?’
‘So this is it – you’re going home and then on to a new challenge.’
‘I’m sure I’ll see you in Dubai; there’s a new hotel opening there soon. It won’t be long before I get my next Kate Harper fix.’ He laughs.
‘I’ll send you a picture.’ He opens his mouth to speak but I place my index finger over his lips. ‘I think you’ve incriminated yourself enough today.’
We head towards the exit. I can see Thomas standing alongside the Bentley. I reach for the door handle, only to feel a yank on my arm; Bradley pulls me into a secluded corner. His hand skims my cheek. Oh, fuck!
‘If you ever need anything…’
I frown. What will I need from him? I sense he wants me to need him – period.
‘You know I’m getting married, and I love Luke.’
His face drops.
‘Please… I feel bad. You’re an incredible man, and the woman who captures your heart will be bloody lucky. Maybe, a different time and place we could have had something, but…’ I look down. This lunch date – which is clearly not a bloody meeting – is rapidly going tits up.
He pulls me into his arms. I inhale his scent – he doesn’t smell like Luke, yet he is just as intoxicating.
‘Be happy.’
‘I’m sorry if I led you on,’ I say
‘You didn’t.’ He exhales. ‘You’re enchanting, Kate Harper.’
He opens the door. To feel the fresh air on my face and the sight of Thomas is a relief.
Bradley walks me to the car.
‘I can get Thomas to drop you off at Heathrow.’
‘No. I’ll get the Tube.’ He reaches into his leather satchel and pulls out a manila envelope. ‘Contracts for Luke – and my excuse for a visit.’ He flashes a cheeky smile. I take the envelope and place it in my bag.
‘Until next time.’ I reach towards him and plant a kiss on his cheek – a sign of affection, definitely not an act of transgression.
Bradley opens the car door for me. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
I slump into my seat. A feeling of self-reproach washes over me. Two men who want something from me, but Luke has me and always will…
Thomas drives the car in the opposite direction to Bradley. I am exhausted after today’s mind-blowing events, which began at approximately five o’clock this morning. I take a deep breath and dial Luke’s number – thank God it goes to voicemail. A text is the next best thing.
To the love of my life,
I hope your day has been OK, and not too hard. Should I fear another early morning booty call?
Love you forever, soon-to-be Mrs Luke Sutton ;-) XX
I hit send, and relax. I feel exonerated by my attempt to make contact. Within seconds my phone vibrates.
Dear Mrs Luke Sutton-to-be,
I have booked a tattooist; I feel the need to exploit your impertinent suggestion you made at Sutton Global – my name on your forehead. Did you enjoy your lunch? I have eyes and ears everywhere, but my hands will be everywhere very soon.
Your not-soon-enough husband-to-be X
Thanks, Thomas. I guess Luke does pay his wages. Crap – double crap – actually, fuck it. I knew he would be pissed off. Maybe his suggestion of lying in bed waiting for him was not such a bad idea!
I decide to return to Sutton Global, as it’s only three o’clock. Rather than go home and wait for Mr Moody Bollocks Sutton, I can work on some more designs.
My phone vibrates again. What does he want now? But no – caller ID: Harry.
SOS – PETE’S ASAP XOXO
I stop mid-walk. ‘Thomas, there’s been a change of plan.’
Within fifteen minutes we draw up outside Pete’s. I walk through the door and see Pete at the bar.
‘Hello, stranger.’ I immediately hug him.
‘How are you?’ He releases me, wearing the biggest grin on his unshaven face.
‘Not bad – I miss you and Fiona like crazy.’
‘You can always come back; the stockroom hasn’t been the same since you left.’
‘I can’t tell you how tempting that is.’
‘I take it you’re here to see the girls.’
‘Yeah,’ I look across to our usual spot and there they are – my three besties with glum faces. ‘First, I need a coffee.’
‘I wouldn’t bother; Kiki is already downing shots and swearing – a lot.’
‘Thanks for the heads-up.’ I stroke his arm and walk over to the girls.
‘Hi girls.’ You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. ‘Right,’ I sit on an empty stool, ‘which one of you is going first?’
‘I’ve had a fucking shit day, Molly’s got some pre-thing – I can’t remember what it’s called – and Harry, well she can tell you.’ Kiki passes me a shot glass filled to the rim.
‘Molly, are you OK, and the baby?’
‘I feel fine, but the midwife was a bit concerned I’ve got protein in my urine and my blood pressure is higher than normal.’
‘So, what does that mean exactly?’
‘She’s worried about pre-eclampsia.’
‘Bloody hell, that can be really dangerous, can’t it?’ I’m out of my depth.
‘Yeah, but…’ Molly says.
‘No, there is no but, you should be resting. Actually, I’ll take you home right now. Have you told Danny?’
‘Kate, I’m fine. Besides, I got the SOS text when I left the doctor, and came straight here.’
I reach across for her hand. ‘I think you should be at home.’
‘I do too.’ Harry speaks for the first time.
‘Thomas can take you; I’m not arguing with you about this. Please.’
‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ she protests.
‘Molly, she won’t give up.’ Kiki downs another shot.
‘Kate’s right, I’ll text you later.’ Harry places her hand on Molly’s back.
‘Fine. Make sure you call me.’
‘I will,’ Harry says.
I help her off the stool and head to the car. I tap on the window, making Thomas jump.
He steps out. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yeah fine, but can you take Molly home please?’
His forehead creases. ‘I really can’t leave you here.’
‘I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m not planning on going anywhere.’
‘I’ll need to check with Mr Sutton.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Mr Sutton won’t find out! I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious. Honestly, she needs to rest – please.’
He holds his hands up. ‘Fine.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I don’t want to cause trouble in paradise,’ Molly says.
My hands move to Molly’s hair. ‘You know me, trouble finds me like flies to shit… Anyway, Luke’s already pissed off with me, so how much worse can it get?’
A thought races through my head – crap, Bradley’s contract. ‘Thomas, wait here! I have an envelope that Stella needs urgently; you’ll have to drop it off after taking Molly home.’
Two special deliveries, and time away from me: I can only imagine the distress this is causing him.
A shot glass sits in front of me; I try to decide which way this afternoon is heading. Down it, or walk away?
‘OK, let me have it.’ I look at Kiki. ‘No prizes for guessing Declan’s pissed you off.’
‘Fucking arsehole.’
‘So what’s he done now, other than break your heart?’ Kiki glares, but her eyes are transparent; she’s hurting.
‘Break my heart? I’ll break his fucking neck.’ She downs another shot. ‘I saw him today at the new office block we’ve just purchased – you know, the one in Shoreditch.’
‘Near the bar we like,’ I say.
‘Yeah. I saw him leaving with his arm around a slut; he was all over her like a fucking rash.’
Harry reaches for Kiki’s hand. ‘I know it’s hard when something is over, but you need to move on. You can’t want to kill him every time you see him.’
‘Harry’s right. I’m the first to admit he’s been a real shit-bag towards you – but you have to get over it.’
‘It wasn’t over two nights ago when he was fucking me,’ she spits. She looks away; she hates showing emotion or appearing weak.
‘What the hell is wrong with you? For Christ’s sake, Kiki, why would you let him back in your bed?’ My anger overflows. ‘Did you honestly think this would help?’ The tequila is at my lips before my mind rejects the notion – down in one.
‘Kate, she obviously really likes him; you can’t tell her to stay away,’ Harry says.
‘I can and I will. Now he’s just used her again, the bastard. When I get my hands on him, I’ll knock him out.’
‘I’ll tell you what I don’t need, and that’s your sanctimonious bullshit. Good for you that you’ve found your controlling soul mate, but I can fuck Declan if I want to… it has fuck all to do with you.�
�� This time there is no need for a shot glass; she tips up the bottle and drinks from it.
‘Kiki, stop drinking like that,’ Harry says with conviction, and not with her usual tone of empathy.
I stand and move towards Kiki, placing my arm around her shoulders, still feeling a little shocked that she just ripped into me.
‘Sleeping with him will just confuse you… I love you so much it kills me to see you lost.’
She is silent. Then, ‘Sorry. Fuck this shit, I hate feeling like this.’
Harry reaches across and touches Kiki’s arm. ‘That’s what love does to you; it takes you to places even if you don’t want to go.’
I move to the stool, and slide my glass towards my heartbroken BFF.
‘OK, it’s your turn, Harriet Harper – oops, Leclair. What’s wrong?’ My glass is replenished with more burning liquid.
‘This morning… I decided it was time to ask Dad.’
‘Bloody hell.’ I down my second shot and slide the glass back to Kiki. ‘Why didn’t you call me? I would have gone with you for moral support.’
‘I needed to speak to him on my own.’
‘I get it.’ My hand reaches for hers. ‘So what’s wrong?’
‘He’s not my dad.’ A solitary tear rolls down her cheek.
Not her dad? I don’t understand. Ivor was in prison – so who?
I take her in my arms. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Kate, I feel lost,’ she sniffles, trying to speak. ‘And Dad was really hurt.’
I pull away. ‘Hurt?’
‘That we thought he’d slept with Katenka behind Mum’s back.’
‘Oh, crap. I guess he would. I only assumed it was Dad because of Ivor; it made sense.’
‘It did to me too. So now I have no parents.’
‘What a bloody mess… Did Dad have any ideas?’
‘No, he was just in shock that you and I had both assumed it was him – well, since last year.’ She downs her shot, as her tears fall again.
