by J. D. Chase
‘I can’t believe it,’ he muttered. His voice was so thick with despair that it made the hair on Isla’s neck raise.
‘What, sweetheart? What’s happened?’
Without lifting his head, he picked up an envelope and held it up to her. She took it and saw that it had been slit open. She took out the letter and began to read.
Within moments, the letter slipped from her fingers as anxiety gripped her like a vice. The results of the paternity test showed that Xander was indeed the baby’s father. Isla didn’t know what to say or what to do but that didn’t matter since her body seemed to be completely paralysed anyway.
Eventually, Xander broke the trance-like atmosphere by lifting his glass of Scotch and tossing back the contents before hissing out a breath as the burning liquid poured down his throat. As he reached for the bottle to refill his glass, his elbow knocked against Isla’s hip. He apologised as if on autopilot but other than that, he didn’t seem to notice she was still there.
His actions interrupted Isla’s silent protest. Inside her head the word ‘no’ had been drawn out into a scream of denial that had been echoing around her head repeatedly. Her mouth opened and her vocal chords gave volume to that same scream.
‘Nooooooooo!’ she wailed, her inner torment evident from the way the half-word, half-plea tore from her throat.
‘Oh yes,’ Xander said, bluntly, when the sound of her voice faded. ‘Fuck knows how, but oh yes. And I’m sorry, Red but I’m in no mood for hysterics tonight. You’d better get back to hosting your little celebration before you’re missed and someone comes looking for you. Close the door on your way out.’
Isla stood staring at him as her mind tried to comprehend his words.
He’s dismissing me. He finds out he’s the father of her baby and he dismisses me, just like that? Like I’m someone unimportant . . . like this has nothing to do with me. You selfish, arrogant, unfeeling twat, Xander Rhodes.
Well, fuck you.
I need a drink. I’ll leave you to sort your own affairs out, since I’m clearly unwanted.
She moved to the door, not sure whether she would actually go through with her thought to leave him to it and re-join the party. Part of her wanted to confront him and force him to let her into his torment but she knew better than that. She was reeling from the shocking news too and, much as she wanted to know what he planned to do next and how it would affect her, the last thing they needed was an almighty row. And she had a feeling that’s exactly what would happen if she pushed him right now. So she slipped through the door, feeling increasingly hurt and rejected – especially since he didn’t seem to register her leaving.
The sounds of a pumping dance track and the staff indulging in jovial frivolity filtered down the corridor. That atmosphere was the last thing she needed but she desperately needed a drink so she passed through the lobby and entered the bar, not even registering the fact that the tables had been pushed to one side of the room, making a makeshift dance floor that was crammed with members of staff taking part in an impromptu dance competition. She was blinkered by her need for a large gin and tonic. She hopped on a bar stool and ordered one. Thirty seconds later, she ordered another.
As she drank it, there was one topic going around her head, over and over again.
Xander’s a father. Fuck. Xander has a baby. What does this mean for us?
By the time she’d finished her third gin and tonic, she had decided that she needed to confront him. The alcohol in her system had wiped away all of her earlier reticence about causing an argument. By the time she’d finished her fifth, her conviction that Xander wasn’t a really a cheat was weakening. She began to doubt him as the pain of his rejection and dismissal of her grew. She wondered whether he’d really had a cast-iron guarantee from the fertility experts that he could not father a child. To her alcohol-fuelled mind, it simply wasn’t possible that he could have been told that he was completely infertile and yet have fathered a child in the same time frame. Doubts about Xander’s credibility in the truth stakes began to creep into her mind.
She slipped from her stool and strode through the lobby and down to the office. She burst in to find him sitting there, just as she’d left him – Scotch glass in hand, although the bottle was significantly less full than it had been before. He looked up in surprise at the door being flung open, then sat back and closed his eyes as if he was resigned to the conversation that he must now have.
‘So, you managed to father a child after you’d allegedly been guaranteed that you couldn’t? What are you going to do now?’ Isla demanded, as she perched herself stiffly on the edge of the chair facing him.
He sighed. ‘Less of the allegedly. I can prove it to you. And as for what I’m going to do now, I was just considering suing the arse off every one of those clinics for malpractice.’
Isla laughed. ‘Well, assuming that they did tell you that you are completely infertile, isn’t it a bit pointless to sue them? After all, before you had the first result, she was already with child. Then you say you had the other tests done after that. So what are you going to claim? That she got pregnant because you stopped using contraception on the basis of those results? You’d be laughed out of court.’
His eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into a cruel, hard line. ‘No, Isla. I ended my marriage based on those results. Results that I can show you, if I need to prove my word to you. I distanced myself from my pregnant wife on the assumption that she was carrying another man’s child. I put myself through hell for several months and all because of their fucking incompetence.’
A cold, heavy sensation settled in the pit of Isla’s stomach.
So he regrets leaving her. Does that mean he’s going to go back to her? Is this his way of telling me I’ve lost him? What does it matter if he can prove those results? It won’t change anything now.
The feeling of dread began to spread from her stomach, circulating in her veins and sinking into her soul.
I’ve lost him. Just when I thought we were over the past, I’ve lost him.
She began to rock back and forth slightly as her mind accepted the inescapable finality of the situation. She battled the tears of anger and frustration that threatened to fall. She would be strong. He was never hers. From the start, he’d belonged to someone else. Now he would go back to his wife, where he belonged.
She jumped when she felt hands on her shoulders. She hadn’t noticed Xander get out of his chair and come around behind her. She froze at his touch. A part of her wanted him to take her into his arms and tell her that it wasn’t true. Another part – a larger part – wanted him to make it as painless as possible and just leave. The touch of his hands on her skin felt wrong. He wasn’t hers. He shouldn’t be touching her. He should go back to his wife. She would not be ‘the other woman’. As far as she was concerned, Xander was now every inch a married man with a newborn child. He may not be a happily married man, but he was still taken. And now, it wasn’t simply a case of getting a quickie divorce and being hers . . . he had a baby.
Xander must have sensed her tensing up because he withdrew his hands as though he’d been scalded.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered quietly. ‘Red, I’m so, so sorry.’
Silently, he passed by her and walked out of the door. And silently, although her heart was breaking, she let him go.
Chapter Sixteen
Isla sat numbly in the office for some time. No tears fell, no pain was felt. A quiet acceptance had taken hold of her. A gentle tapping on the door made her scowl. She knew that she’d be missed by the rest of the staff but she was in no mood to see any of them so she ignored it. The tapping was repeated, then a firm knock and then the door was cautiously opened. Isla looked up and her heart sank. It was Dean.
Oh great. Just what I need.
‘Hi,’ she said, somewhat stiffly. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. What brings you to my door?’
He looked suddenly anxious and Isla could tell that he didn’t really wa
nt to be there. Guilt prickled at her skin. She was supposed to have fired him before now.
Oh well, no time like the present.
‘It’s good to see you,’ she lied. ‘Come and take a seat.’
He nodded and she could see that she’d managed to relieve some of his anxiety.
When he’d sat down, he said, ‘Belinda called me to tell me about the party. I questioned whether I’d be welcome but she insisted that you’d said it was for all staff. I didn’t intend coming but my therapist said that I should take the opportunity to come into work for this social event because it would make it easier for me to come back to work when I was ready. She . . .’
Isla leaned forward. ‘She what?’
He blushed furiously. ‘She said that it would be an ideal time to see you and try to overcome my fear of coming back to work.’
Frowning, Isla asked, ‘You’re afraid to come back to work? Because of me and . . . what happened? Oh Dean, don’t be afraid to return because of that. What happened that night . . . well, it shouldn’t have.’
Dean looked down at the floor and said nothing. After a few minutes, the silence became awkward. Isla didn’t know what to say but she felt that there was something on Dean’s mind that he was having difficulty getting off his chest. She wondered whether it was because of his attempt to bribe the hotel inspector. If it was, she hoped that he’d at least have the balls to confess.
‘What are you afraid of, Dean?’ she said, softly. ‘You can tell me. I’m your boss and if there’s something work-related that’s concerning you . . .’
He sighed heavily but then looked up at Isla. ‘Before . . . well, you know. Before then, you looked at me as though you respected me. But those things you said . . . I mean, how can you respect me after that? You made me feel useless. Or at least you put the thought in my head and then my mind took over. I doubt there’ll ever be anything between us, no matter how much I want it, but I don’t think I can work for you because every time I see you, I’ll be reminded of what happened and how much it made me feel like a failure.’
Isla’s hand had flown to her mouth as he’d spoken. ‘Dean, you’re overthinking this. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way but you’ve got to accept that different people have different sexual preferences. We just weren’t compatible. What I enjoy in the bedroom would probably scare most men from ever coming within a two-mile radius of me. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with your style and sexual prowess. If I’m honest, I was so pissed that I probably hadn’t a clue what you were doing, never mind what I was doing myself. For goodness sake, don’t allow one drunken fumbling session to mean so much. Isn’t your therapist able to help you with this?’
Dean threw his head back and groaned. ‘She’s under the impression that, by the time she’s finished with me, I’ll be walking back in here “like a boss” – her words not mine – and you’ll be falling over yourself to re-enact that night. With a very different outcome, obviously. If you ask me, she has a very tenuous grip on reality. I mean, I’m pretty sure that you’d never . . .’
‘No,’ interrupted Isla, a little more forcefully than she’d intended. ‘I think we can safely say that’s not on the agenda. I think she’s aiming to build your confidence but if that’s the objective that she thinks you’re working towards, then she needs to rethink. She’s labouring under a misapprehension for sure. I’m certain if you put her straight and choose another goal, everything will be fine.’
He didn’t look convinced. ‘I’ve tried to tell her but everything’s about sex for her. She’s adamant that you’ll weaken once you realise what you’re missing – again, her words not mine. I’ve even told her that you’re involved with someone else but that doesn’t seem to mean anything.’
Isla’s eyebrows shot up at that. ‘What do you mean, I’m involved with someone else? What makes you say that?’
He shrugged. ‘Jones told me. I saw him last night in that club and he asked how I was getting on. I mentioned my concerns about returning to work and, somewhere in the conversation, he mentioned that he knew you were seeing someone.’
‘Ah, I see. No, I’m not seeing anyone at this moment in time. Nor am I planning on doing so in the near future. That doesn’t change anything as far as you and I are concerned. I don’t go around jumping into bed with men, Dean. Don’t take this the wrong way but if I hadn’t have been paralytic, nothing would have happened between us.’
‘Oh right. And I get it, Isla, don’t worry,’ he muttered, making Isla feel guilty once again. ‘I’ll do my best to forget what happened and you can rest assured that I know our relationship will be purely professional. It’s true what they say, isn’t it? Never mix work and pleasure.’ He gave a weak grin but Isla was miles away.
Yeah, never mix work and pleasure. I knew that and yet I still went ahead anyway. Dean was purely a drunken mistake that I won’t be repeating but Xander . . . I guess I thought he was worth the risk. Now where did that get me exactly? No fucking where.
I wonder where he is . . . has he gone back to her? Is he at home playing happy families?
‘Um . . . Isla?’
She pushed the unwelcome thoughts from her head and found Dean frowning at her.
‘You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? Your mind was miles away,’ he accused.
‘I’m sorry, Dean. I’ve a lot on my plate right now. What was it you were saying?’
‘I said that, as long as you can view me with respect, I’ll return to work on Monday.’
Isla sighed heavily. ‘It’s not that simple I’m afraid. Obviously you know there’s a staff party tonight but do you know why?’
He nodded but he looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Um . . . yeah. Belinda said it was to thank staff for their efforts during the inspection the other day and to celebrate the five-star grading that was awarded.’
Isla narrowed her eyes and thought carefully about what to say in reply. Dean looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Eventually she said, ‘Yeah, it seems that someone attempted to bribe the inspector to give the hotel a low grading. Thank goodness she was above that. Can you imagine what would have happened to our bookings? Our reputation? Our jobs?’
He shook his head. ‘Who . . . who would do such a thing?’
She stared at him pointedly. ‘That’s what I wanted to know.’ She paused and continued to stare at him. He sat there, saying nothing until she could bear it no longer. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me, Dean?’
His jaw dropped in surprise and then his mouth closed and opened several times before he decided to say nothing. Instead he gave a nod.
‘Well?’
He threw his head back and exhaled loudly as he appeared to study the ceiling. ‘I’m sorry, Isla. I know there’s no excuse and I don’t know what I was thinking. I was completely wasted and I was so angry with you . . . something snapped and the next thing I knew, I was on the phone, calling Helen, an inspector that I met a few years ago. I was only going to suggest that someone did an inspection – I was pretty confident that the hotel would be downgraded. Yes, I know it was a pretty shitty thing to do. But she said that she was having some financial problems and implied that she could do a dodgy grading in exchange for cash. Really downgrade the hotel. Like I say, I was pissed. I wanted to lash out at you. Make you feel something . . . I don’t know, to make you feel angry and frustrated, like you’d made me feel. I’m skint, Isla. There’s no way I could afford to give her the bribe we agreed. I was too pissed to know half of what I was saying.
‘When I was sober and I remembered, I doubted that she’d have done anything – especially since I hadn’t handed over any cash. When Belinda called and said there’d been an inspection . . . God, I felt sick. Then, when she said the hotel had been awarded five stars, I couldn’t believe it. I thought that it must be some sort of weird coincidence, that it wasn’t connected to me. I asked Belinda for the name of the inspector and, when she said it was Helen . . . well, I didn’t know
what the hell was going on. I thought that she’d decided to stitch me up. I’d met her at a wine tasting evening and she came on to me but I wasn’t interested.
‘She pursued me for a while but after I made it clear that she wasn’t going to get anywhere, she asked if we could be friends. Because we were both in the hotel trade and she was good company, when she wasn’t doing her Fatal Attraction act, I agreed to go out for a drink with her – more out of pity than anything else – but, after we’d had far too many drinks and had a really good night, she’d practically begged me to go in for coffee. I mean really begged, making me feel awful when I said no. So I reluctantly agreed then she jumped on me the second we were through the door. She started taking her clothes off and talking dirty to me. I mean real dirty . . . you know, like you did. Maybe that’s what made me think of her when I was angry with you, I don’t know. Anyway, that night didn’t end well either.
‘I truly am sorry, Isla. But it’s all good now, isn’t it? If she decided to get back at me by coming in here and awarding you five stars, it’s all worked out in the end. No harm done.’
Isla stared at him. ‘No harm done? Well Dean, that’s not exactly the case. If Xander catches up with you . . . well, I’m sure you can imagine the consequences. He’s decreed that you’re to be fired. Immediately.’
Dean’s eyes widened in shock. ‘But I didn’t go through with it.’
Isla shrugged. ‘Xander has evidence in the form of her notes. Plus she gave him your name when he challenged her.’
‘Fuck. So that’s it? I’m out of a job. But you own the hotel. You can overrule him.’
Shaking her head, Isla corrected him. ‘No Dean. Xander owns this hotel. I can’t overrule him, even if I wanted to. I’m sorry, but your employment at Rouge Passion is terminated, effective immediately.’
His face contorted with spite. ‘You did this to me. You made me feel like this. If you hadn’t made me feel like a complete sissy piece of shit, I wouldn’t have been pissed. I wouldn’t have called her. You’ve got to take some responsibility in all this. You fucked the hotel’s head barman, that’s hardly professional behaviour, is it? Oh wait . . . yeah, I’ll bet Xander Rhodes doesn’t know that his GM fucks the staff once she’s finished drinking, does he? You didn’t pay for those drinks either. If you don’t make him reconsider, maybe I’ll fill him in.’
