by Orla Bailey
“I wasn’t disgusted.”
“Repelled. Appalled. Use whatever description you want. I know what I saw in your eyes. The same expression I saw when you walked into that hotel room.” I want to end this distress but I stand there and take it because I’ve lacked the courage to see it through long enough.
Jack stands. “Haven’t you been telling me things aren’t always the way they appear?”
I’m pulled up short when he uses my own argument against me. He’d make a great courtroom lawyer.
“So, how are they?” I steel myself.
He stares long enough for me to wonder if he’s even going to give me the awful truth.
He takes a breath. “I was a little… surprised.”
“How could you have been?” I interrupt. “You knew how I felt about you. I threw myself at you on a daily basis. I finally came right on out and begged you.” I’m certainly a girl who commits.
“Maybe surprised isn’t the appropriate word. Concerned may be more accurate. Not that you asked me to be the first man to make love to you. Any man would be flattered, honoured by a beautiful young woman wanting him to be her first. But I was raised to respect women. I have sisters I love. A fantastic mother. I want a wife and daughters someday and I’d kill any man that hurt any one of them.”
“I wasn’t asking you to hurt me.” Not even to have sex with me, really, I finally realise. Just to love me.
He takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t the right thing to do. Having sex with me wasn’t right for you. You were under all sorts of pressure at work and with exams and university entrance too. You needed comfort, guidance, not a confusing sexual relationship to handle. You mistook what you felt for me. You weren’t ready to take a step like that. Especially not with me. I couldn’t have given any serious relationship the time it deserved, not back then. I’m conscious I caused the situation to escalate between us. I’m to blame. I should have handled it better. But I liked you. Too much. Okay?”
I stare at his… confession? Is he telling me I didn’t know what I wanted? That he was protecting me from myself? Or he wasn’t wanting a quick fling with a naïve young woman? He disappears through a door in the panelling, returning with a box of paper tissues in his hand and offers them to me, indicating the chair he vacated.
“So I was just some precocious brat blowing off steam.” I wipe my eyes and blow my nose. “You couldn’t get out the door fast enough and I don’t blame you. It doesn’t do a girl’s fragile ego any good, however, let me tell you.”
“Listen to me.” He takes me by the elbow and plonks me in the chair behind his desk. “I left because Harry asked me to.”
I look up stunned. “Why would he do that?” Harry liked Jack. He trusted him. Enough to sell Lassec to him on a handshake.
“I’m ten years older than you, Tabitha. That’s a big deal when you’re barely eighteen.” Jack starts pacing again.
“Not if it wasn’t anything serious.”
“It was serious.”
“You thought I was too young for you.” I wasn’t. I knew my own mind then. I know it now. It hasn’t changed.
“Harry did.”
“He was wrong.”
“He was right. He wanted to make sure you had a chance to grow up first.”
“Before what?”
“This is not the time.” Jack pulls up another chair and sits right in front of me.
“Harry made me promise to stay away from you. Let you finish university. He wanted you to have an adult life of your own. Freedom. I confided how things were between us and he thought it would be a huge mistake if you settled for the first man you met at eighteen. The only man. In case it was the wrong decision.”
“That was the wrong decision.”
He shakes his head. “You had no life experience to draw on to make that sort of relationship choice. Not even from your parents or Harry himself. And I agreed with him so I left. I wanted to give you a chance to discover life without me in the way to hold you back. I stepped away so you could explore other relationships beyond your first.” He gets a strange look in his eyes. “Even if the thought of you being with someone else nearly killed me.”
My face drains until I feel dizzy. If I believe that, I begin to understand the reason finding me in the arms of any other man makes Jack feel so fractured. Why his trust is fragile. “Harry made a mistake.” I loved Jack then and I still do.
“No. He didn’t.”
“Harry never settled down himself. He wouldn’t understand why anyone would want to.”
“We both agreed you weren’t ready for such a commitment. Maybe that’s still the case.” He looks hollowed out. “I never meant to re-enter your life so abruptly. So soon.”
“Then why did you?” Harry may have died but I’m angry at the pair of them, deciding my future for me. It isn’t meant to be their choice. “I’ll prove to you, you were wrong.”
“How can I believe that now?” He pushes to his feet and turns, staring out of the window.
We’re going round in circles and there’s no point going over the same old ground. “Look into your heart Jack. That’s where the truth lies.”
“Right now, my heart is pretty numb.”
The thought devastates me. I can’t contemplate life without Jack in it any longer. Last time I struck a deal with him I was fighting for my company but this time I’m fighting for something far more important. My love. I stand too.
“Deep inside that hard-headed skull of yours, you know the truth about me. You’d be better asking yourself how well you really know your friend, Amanda.”
He lowers raised shoulders in a deliberate fashion but he’s anything but relaxed. I see it in the muscle convulsing in his cheek; the repeated flexing of his fingers.
“I know she’s entirely capable of carrying out her threat to sue you for defamation of character if you don’t stop making accusations.”
I deflate. “So you’re still rescuing me. Even when you made me apologise.” He didn’t do it to humiliate me.
“Don’t think that will influence any final decision about us. It won’t.”
My voice drops to a whisper. “Are you leaving me again?”
Jack turns to look me straight in the eye. He lifts his desk phone and hits a button. “Blackstock. Bring the car round.” He hangs up. “Go back to work. I’ll collect you at six and we’ll finish this at Belvedere.”
I can only stare, contemplating his choice of words. Finish this? He’s a master of the subtle art of torment. Yet I’m not scared. Jack is finally returning to Belvedere where he belongs and he’s opened up about the past. I want to kiss him so badly, but I’m too wary of his rebuff to even try.
Jack brings me back down to earth. “Just so there are no mixed messages, don’t imagine any relationship between us, Tabitha. We currently have a deal only.” He walks me to the car.
It’s a pretty cruel way to leave things but I understand its origins and I know who has caused this rift between us. I vow to expose Amanda somehow and make Jack see the truth.
“I guess that’s no worse a place than I was a few weeks ago.” I arch my eyebrow at Jack when Blackstock opens the car door for me to dive inside. I won’t be a doormat.
In fact, I’ve moved from despondent to hopeful in a short space of time. Things can only get better.
* * *
My doubts spiral out of control, like leaves in a tornado, for the entire journey but Blackstock is so calm he settles me. And distracts me.
“Were you able to pass my message on to Libby, Miss Caid?” His subject brings me back to earth.
I smile gently at him. “I did, Mr Blackstock.” I knew it. He likes her.
“Did she send any reply?” Much as he tries to disguise it, I sense an eager anticipation he’s trying to keep under control.
“She thinks she’ll never be able to look you in the face again.” I laugh at his grimace.
“Would you have any objection, Miss, if I tried to persuade her to cha
nge her mind?”
The thought that one of us could still be happy thrills me. “None whatsoever, Mr Blackstock. I’d be delighted. She’s a great girl.” I don’t see why I shouldn’t give romance a helping hand. “Do you have to rush away immediately?”
“Not for a while. Is there an errand you wish me to run?”
“Park the car and come in, Mr Blackstock. It’s high time I showed you round CaidCo and made you a cup of coffee. That’s to say, Libby can. I’m far too busy.”
His expression is as subtle as the man. “Much appreciated, Miss Caid.”
We discover Libby working at her desk. When she looks up and sees Blackstock standing beside me I have to fight back a snort as her face instantly flushes. It’s an attractive look on her.
“Libby, I promised Mr Blackstock a quick tour and a cup of coffee. Would you oblige? I have an urgent phone call to make.”
“Naturally,” she whispers, mortified, giving me the evil eye for springing him on her like that.
For God’s sake just say yes, Libby, I silently compel her. At least one of us deserves a measure of happiness. And hers is the kind of diversion I need.
Blackstock rescues me. “I’d be very grateful, Libby.”
Libby and I glance at each other, eyes widening in mutual understanding of the understated promise.
Blackstock smothers a grin and continues. “I don’t wish to be any trouble. Smart suit by the way. Clothes say so much about a person.”
She stands, smoothing her hands over couture-covered hips. “This old thing?”
Now it’s my turn to stare open-mouthed. That old thing is a thousand pounds worth of designer chic. Jack’s thousand pounds. I’ve still to own up to giving some of his expensive clothing away but that confession can wait until later. Much later.
Libby leads Blackstock off, chatting easily. His loose stride belies his muscular build and in the habitual black suit he wears they look interestingly harmonious side by side. I wonder briefly what Jack might make of the pair of them dating.
It’s funny to think it took seeing Libby drunk in her underwear for Blackstock to make a move but I stop short of considering what he supposedly didn’t see after the bedroom door shut behind them. It appears Libby has forgiven him, anyway.
Content enough, I pop into Brent’s office to get his take on the intern interviews. The man is nowhere to be seen. I don’t remember spotting his Land Rover in the car park either so I guess that means he’s doing his own thing again.
I head to my office to read Libby’s report on the interviews and her secure email regarding Brent’s involvement. She has letters typed up ready to sign offering the two posts, inviting them to attend for induction and commiserating with unsuccessful candidates, giving clear feedback and a warm invitation to apply again next year. Libby’s simply brilliant.
I sign the letters and stuff them into envelopes, then check my emails. Brent apparently threw himself enthusiastically into proceedings. He spoke strongly in favour of one candidate who showed a clear level of knowledge and understanding of our business and gave ideal responses to questions. Libby readily concurred with her appointment. I’m happy enough to pick up the phone and make a quick call to each candidate. By the time I’m done, Libby’s back and alone.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” I say, holding up my hands in guilty surrender. “The man was bleeding.”
“Bleeding gorgeous. I came to say thanks actually. He’s going to take me out to dinner tonight if his boss doesn’t need him for anything. I don’t suppose you could keep Jack otherwise occupied?”
I think wryly of our to-be-continued discussion. “I’ll do my best. Congratulations by the way. Blackstock’s pretty hot stuff.”
“Better not let Jack hear you say that.”
“Under the circumstances, I agree.”
“How did it go, by the way?”
I pull a face. “Amanda was there, pawing at him.”
“Slut. Did he believe you though?”
“Let’s just say he’s prepared to let me prove my claim. I can’t say he’s happy though.”
“Sorry, honey. You don’t deserve any of this.”
“But you, on the other hand, well deserve your promotion. You did a great job with the interviews today. Brent no trouble?”
“Textbook, like I said in the report. He took off straight after without a word though.”
“I’ll tackle his disappearing act next. Trust me.”
Libby has her mind on finer things. “You don’t think John likes me only because I’m a high-flying, designer-wearing executive with a pay-raise, do you? He’ll get a rude awakening at the weekends.”
“John?”
“John Blackstock.”
“Oh. No, I’m definitely sure he’s looked beneath the surface.” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively and smirk.
Libby blushes. “That’s what worries me. How embarrassing.”
“Nothing you won’t be showing him again willingly, if he’s as nice as he is hot.”
“I like him. He can laugh at himself. He says you called him Stackblock when you were drunk.” She laughs. “I think he quite enjoyed that.”
“Don’t remind me.” I laugh too. Better than calling him Blockhead, I suppose.”
“Hey that’s my boyfriend you’re calling a blockhead.”
“Boyfriend? You don’t hang about. You’ll be inviting him to meet the family next.”
I wonder about Jack’s family again. The sisters and mother he so clearly adores. A big family to grow up around whilst Harry comprised my entire kin. Did I throw myself at Jack desperate for companionship? I think about what my parents might have made of us together and sigh. If he was ever going to ask me to marry him for real, Amanda dealt a lethal blow to that happening. Perhaps it’s my tragic destiny to be alone.
“John’ll need to be a little more certain of his feelings for me before I’m introducing him to my lot of reprobates.”
“He seems like a man who can handle himself.”
“I’ll be holding out for the ring first.” She halts. “Sorry, Tabitha. That was thoughtless. I’m getting carried away. I haven’t even been out with the guy.”
“Yet.” I wave off her apology as unnecessary. “You’re excited and you should be.”
“Changing the subject, when’s that courier coming back?”
“Wednesday. Let’s hope she has good news. I’ve no idea what I’m going to do next if she doesn’t. I can’t bear the thought of losing Jack, especially to Amanda. Every time I see them together they seem to be getting closer.”
“It’s obvious that evil mare wants him for herself.”
“My worry is he’s thinking about it.” Or been there.
Libby takes my hands in hers. “No honey. One thing I’m certain of, he loves you. That’s why he’s too hurt to know what’s what anymore. Give him time and keep showing him how much you care.”
“If he’ll let me.” Will my love be enough to renew things between us?
It simply has to be.
* * *
My mind wanders all afternoon thinking about Jack and me.
When I get a courtesy call from a client Brent handles, confirming he’s following Brent to Advance, I finally understand the score. I draft a letter giving Brent until the end of the week to tender his resignation formally or have his employment officially terminated with three month’s pay in lieu of notice, effective immediately.
“He doesn’t deserve that much,” Libby insists, taking the missive.
“I don’t want to give him a single ground to later backtrack and claim unfair dismissal.”
“It looks like he’s made his mind up.”
“Then he’s sorely mistaken putting faith in Amanda and Advance. As far as I’m concerned they can’t be trusted, but that’s his problem.” At least I know why he was in contact with Amanda. He’s been planning this for some time. Despite anger at his treachery, I’m actually relieved he’s going so he can do no further dam
age to CaidCo or to me.
Libby and I survey his office. “Redecorate.” I bring a box to gather up any personal belongings and we check the entire room. “There’s nothing left,” I say closing the desk drawer.
“That’s why the old devil came back today. To gather up his stuff. He was probably planning to be gone by the time we got in but you surprised him.”
“I must have done if he offered to help out. That’s why I suggested the interviews.”
“Well, he didn’t do any damage there, at least,” Libby reassures me. She lifts up a key to the locked filing cabinet and we open it up.
Several files are empty, including the account of the client who had the decency to phone. I’m relieved to see more clients remaining than missing though. “I’ve no doubt he attempted to defect with the lot.”
We look at each other. “Do you think more will follow?” Libby asks.
“Possibly. Brent must have spent days persuading clients to cross to the dark side with him. It’s probably the only reason Advance offered him a job in the first place. To undermine CaidCo and increase their market share. Brent’s no high-flying whizz kid. They’re using him. We’ll phone his entire caseload, let them know the position and reassign any that stay loyal.”
“I’ll send gifts to thank them, assure them of our commitment and apologise for any inconvenience with the change of account management.”
“Perfect.”
I open the bottom drawer to find it stuffed with copies of all the newspapers that covered the Commerce Ball and my public engagement to Jack. I can’t help staring at photographs of us looking so happy together, the pink diamond on my finger.
I spread them over the desk so we can look.
“Do you want me to get rid of these?” Libby starts to gather them up.
“Not yet. I never did read what was written about me.” I take them from her.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?”
“I’m not sure of anything,” I admit. I look around the space. “Change anything you like in here. It’s yours now. I’d rather not recognise the place.”
“I’m swapping furniture too. These dark brown antiques don’t do it for me.”
