by K. L. Slater
Best of all, thanks to the ruling of the Court of Justice of the European Union in 2014, everyone had the right to be forgotten online. Joanne had taken full advantage of this development and was still working to effectively erase any mention of what had happened.
It was a work in progress, but she had every confidence her ten-year plan would soon be completed satisfactorily.
It was a small price to pay to finally feel free. A small price to stop anyone who might be out to dig up dirt.
Chapter Sixteen
Later that afternoon, she’d parked her sports car in a spot just about a five-minute walk away from the coffee shop.
Glancing at her watch and seeing there was still ten minutes to go before her agreed meeting time with Shaun, she turned off the engine and pressed back against the headrest.
All things considered, she wasn’t entirely sure why she’d agreed to meet him. The signs were already there – in the buzz that zipped through her veins like lightning, in the way her logical thoughts and confident manner were disrupted – that this guy was something special.
Joanne was only too aware she’d stepped inside the danger zone she’d promised herself she’d keep away from. The question was, could she indulge in a little dalliance and be strong enough to keep him at arm’s length? She was still a couple of years off the end of her ten-year no-relationship period, and she knew she’d do well to keep this at the forefront of her mind.
She checked her handbag, satisfied her phone was in there.
It’s not too late to cancel, the cautionary voice in her head whispered, but she swiftly pushed it away.
She was entitled to a little fun, wasn’t she? And that was all this needed to be.
This feeling… this attraction, it was powerful. It was nice to feel alive inside again, and she found she didn’t want it to end just yet.
Besides, she was in a far better place now. She felt like a whole new person.
On the rare occasions she allowed herself to venture back in her head, it felt like a complete other life. A life that was almost completely buried.
At precisely three minutes to six, she picked up her handbag, got out of the car and walked to the coffee bar. She’d be a couple of minutes late. Not enough to appear rude but just right to avoid looking over-keen.
She could see, through the smoked glass front, that the place was about half full. She spotted at least three small round tables free.
She opened the door and inhaled the heady smell of freshly ground coffee beans. The whoosh of the steamed milk and the gentle buzz of cordial conversation instantly loosened her tight shoulders.
She scanned the tables with a faint smile on her face, ready to wave to Shaun and make her way over. But it soon became apparent that he hadn’t yet arrived.
She felt a wave of irritation. Joanne Dent wasn’t accustomed to being kept waiting. At the same time, a faint thrill rumbled inside her at the fact that he wasn’t a pushover who felt intimidated by her.
Heading for the table furthest from the door, she passed the serving counter and a small glass-fronted display unit. She glanced at the mouth-watering dainty pastries and wholesome-looking salad wraps inside, but she wasn’t tempted. Her stomach, although empty after she’d skipped lunch, felt raw and unable to deal with solid food.
What a silly state she’d allowed herself to get into. They were meeting for coffee, for goodness’ sake, she reminded herself. This wasn’t a romantic date.
Her bottom had barely reached the wooden chair when the entrance bell chimed and Shaun’s six-foot-two – she’d already estimated – frame filled the doorway.
She raised her hand and he smiled, and in a few long strides he was there at the table. He wore a close-fitting black T-shirt and jeans. She glanced down to see that his feet were clad in blue suede boat shoes with white stitching, and no socks.
Joanne felt overdressed rather than smart.
She stood, and he leaned forward and very lightly kissed her cheek. His lips felt like a firebrand against her skin and she sat down again quickly, feeling slightly dazed.
‘I didn’t get drinks,’ she managed. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer.’
‘It’s OK, I’ll order,’ he said, reaching into his back pocket for a wallet. ‘The espresso macchiatos are really good here, if you like your coffee strong. I’ll get us a couple of pastries, too.’
‘Perfect.’ She nodded, appreciative of the way his back narrowed into a neat waistline as he turned back towards the counter.
When you were a single parent, you got used to making all the decisions, big and small. You couldn’t really discuss things with a child; you just had to get on with sorting life out for the two of you.
So Joanne found it refreshing when Shaun didn’t defer to her. She liked the way he assumed control.
She busied herself fishing in her bag for a tissue for something to do while she willed her cheeks to lose some of the heat she could feel burning there.
Merely a minute later, Shaun was back.
‘They’re bringing the order over.’ He smiled, pulling out the chair right next to her rather than the one opposite.
‘Great,’ she said, breathing in his now familiar citrus scent. ‘Have you come here straight from work?’
‘Yeah, I’ve been doing a photo shoot with international athletes at Loughborough University.’ He grinned, looking down at the table and shaking his head before looking back at her. ‘Sorry, it’s just… it makes a change from photographing lost dogs who found their way home, you know?’
‘Local news is a bit like that, I suppose,’ she laughed. ‘I could probably put some contacts your way. If you make sure the magazine photos favour me.’
‘You don’t need special favours, you look perfect the way you are.’
It was a cheesy line, but she swallowed it, flushing with pleasure.
A young man wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with a long black apron appeared carrying a tray.
‘Two espresso macchiatos and two Danish?’ He began to put the glass cups down without waiting for an answer. The coffee and milk were cleverly layered in graduated colours and finished with steamed milk topped with froth hearts.
Joanne picked up the small silver spoon on her saucer and scooped up a small whip of creamy froth with a sprinkle of brown sugar. Then she took a sip of the strong, nutty brew and looked at him over her cup.
‘I hope things sort themselves at home for you. The situation sounds difficult.’
Shaun took a bite of apricot Danish, chewing for a few moments before swallowing and answering.
‘It’s what we both want.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s just Maisie I worry about. I have to make sure she’s OK.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Joanne said, looking at her pastry but not touching it. ‘Kids are surprisingly resilient.’
She thought about Piper. Strong, confident and competent at most activities she put her mind to. They didn’t talk about her father. Joanne wasn’t sure why that was, but to her relief, Piper had never asked. It felt like an unexploded mine under her feet – she knew the day would come and it probably wasn’t far off.
‘Emma has always insisted that Maisie is more sensitive than your average child,’ Shaun said, picking up his pastry again. ‘But I agree with you. She’s probably stronger than her mum gives her credit for. I guess we’ll soon find out.’
Chapter Seventeen
Joanne finished signing a batch of client contracts and sat back in her chair.
Weak rays of sunlight battled the slats of the window blind, projecting line grids on the opposite wall.
If she wasn’t with Shaun, she was thinking about him. Things had moved along so quickly in the space of two weeks, it helped her process it to think back to how they got there so quickly.
That afternoon in the café, Joanne had felt relieved when the conversation grew lighter. She didn’t really want to talk to Shaun about his wife and daughter. She didn’t want to be reminded that Emma was
her employee.
Instead, she tried to relax and enjoy listening to Shaun talk animatedly about his photography work. She found it a refreshing change to listen to career speak about something other than the legal industry in which she herself was utterly immersed.
‘You’ve heard the phrase “a picture paints a thousand words”, right?’ he asked her after ordering them another coffee each. ‘I think that’s so true. In a good photograph, you can capture mood, feelings and emotions… Get it right and you can tell a whole story in a single snapshot.’
Joanne nodded, thinking about the handful of photographs locked in her desk at home. Photographs that showed a time when she was once happy, when she believed in a future that was never to be.
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to burn them, but she would, one day. It was essential to erasing the past and an important part of her ten-year plan. It was the final piece of a jigsaw she was trying her hardest to destroy.
Shaun waved a hand in front of her face.
‘You were somewhere else then. Care to share?’
‘Oh, just thinking about what you said, that’s all.’ She grinned widely. ‘And you’re right. The best photographs don’t need any words.’
‘What about you? Do you get satisfaction from your job?’
‘Of course.’ She nodded, pressing her fingertips against the hot cup. She’d be climbing the walls later with all this caffeine. ‘People turn themselves inside out, get into some pretty complicated situations. It’s satisfying when you can help them sort through the tangles.’
‘I bet.’ Shaun nodded. ‘I certainly don’t want an expensive legal wrangle, so I’m trying to keep things civil with Emma.’
‘Very sensible,’ Joanne remarked.
‘Not always easy, though.’
‘Well, maybe you should get yourself a good lawyer.’ She uncrossed her feet under the table and slipped off one shoe. When her foot touched lightly on his, they looked at each other.
‘Shame I can’t afford your services,’ he said softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘The papers are saying you’re a hot-shot lawyer.’
‘Maybe we can come to some arrangement,’ she said slowly.
Her heart began to bang on her chest wall, but she ignored it. Kept her face impassive and her expression amused.
‘A mutually convenient one, perhaps,’ he suggested, leaning forward on his elbows and staring into her eyes across the table.
‘I know an intimate little bar hidden away on a side street behind this place,’ Shaun suggested. She didn’t need encouraging; she wasn’t ready to part company yet. Fifteen minutes later, they’d graduated from coffees to cocktails.
‘Just so you know, my fee is usually more than a couple of cosmopolitans,’ Joanne said, her head feeling slightly fuzzy from drinking on a virtually empty stomach. She had barely touched her Danish earlier. ‘I’m not usually such a pushover.’
She swayed slightly in time with the slow tempo of the chill-out lounge music that enveloped the dimly lit bar.
‘So you say.’ He smirked. ‘I could tell a mile off you’re the kind of woman who appreciates a classy drink.’
She suppressed a grin and tried to look offended, failing on both counts.
‘How very dare you! I’ll have you know I’m a hard-working single mother who is—’
‘Beautiful, smart and great company.’ Shaun took a step closer to her, his muscular arm pressing into her side. She could feel the heat of his body through her thin silk blouse.
She looked up at him, and he bent his head towards her slowly, testing her reaction. She parted her lips slightly and blinked.
A jolt of electricity ran the length of her spine and goosebumps popped up on her forearms as he planted a kiss very lightly on her mouth before straightening up and taking a step back.
‘Wow,’ he breathed. ‘Did you feel what I felt?’
She nodded, her eyes wide. ‘And here was me thinking we were just going for a coffee after work.’
Joanne opened her eyes. Her heart sank and she closed them again at once.
Beside her, she could hear Shaun breathing.
A man. In her bed, here in her apartment.
What was she thinking?
She took a breath in, held it a moment or two and then released it very slowly. She had to calm down.
She’d done nothing wrong. She was an adult, a single woman. There was no chance of Piper walking in on them, given that she was still away. She hadn’t got drunk and was in perfect control of her senses.
But in its own way, it was far more dangerous than that.
The virtual chemical reaction they’d both experienced was more powerful and real than any manufactured stimulant.
She’d only felt attraction like this once before, and she was still in the process of trying to erase the devastating consequences of it from her life.
Shaun stirred beside her, opened his eyes.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he croaked, flashing a pearly white smile that crinkled the corners of his cheeky eyes.
He turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow to look at her.
‘You OK?’
‘I’m fine.’ She turned her head and smiled weakly at him. ‘I just feel a little dazed. Things moved a bit faster than I expected and now… well, here we are.’
‘Here we are,’ he echoed. ‘Together. Bound by some sort of crazy magnetism I’ve never felt before in my life.’
‘Me neither,’ she said without flinching. ‘The question is, what are we going to do about it?’
‘Do?’ He laughed. ‘For a start, I’d say we thank our lucky stars we’ve found each other.’
‘That aside, I meant what do we do about the fact that you’re married to one of my paralegals?’
As soon as she acknowledged the elephant in the room, a growing feeling of discomfort began to rise from her solar plexus, succeeding in obliterating the glow she’d felt all evening.
‘It’s not as if me and Emma are still together; it won’t be long before we’re not even living in the same house any more.’
‘But I work with her,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve already given her tasks on my new cases, so I can’t avoid talking to her.’
‘You’ve no need to feel guilty, Jo. We’ve agreed to part and our marriage is over. Emma wants that as much as I do.’
He’d asked her earlier in the evening if he could call her Jo and she’d nodded. She’d always hated anyone shortening her name, but when Shaun said it, it sounded sexy and showed her he’d sensed an intimate and well-hidden side of her that nobody else knew existed.
She sighed, bit her lip. ‘It still feels wrong. Dishonest, somehow. I can’t look her in the eye while I’m… secretly seeing her husband.’
He reached over to her with his free hand, traced a wavy line from her shoulder to her arm with a fingertip. She groaned softly, inching over towards him.
‘You won’t have to feel dishonest for long,’ he said, cupping the back of her head in his hand and pulling her gently towards him. ‘I’ve been around long enough to know we’re going to have something special here. I’ll tell her about us.’
Chapter Eighteen
Emma
At the end of the day, after battling gridlocked roads due to an accident on Trent Bridge, I walk straight into the kitchen, where Shaun is preparing tea.
‘You’re earlier than I expected. Maize is at your mum’s, so sit down, I’ll pour you a glass of wine.’ He nods to the counter, where the bottle of the full-blooded Rioja we bought in Spain last year sits open and breathing, next to two crystal wine glasses we received as a wedding gift. We’d left one bottle unopened, vowing to drink it when there was reason to celebrate. I’m pretty certain this wasn’t what I had in mind.
‘I’ll just have some water, if that’s OK,’ I say tersely.
As a rule, I try not to drink alcohol and to eat a little more healthily during the week. It isn’t always easy to stick to it and I probably wo
n’t manage it tonight. Judging by the smell emanating from the bubbling pan, Shaun has cooked his signature spaghetti bolognese, and annoyed or not, I’m not about to refuse that.
I sit down in the easy chair near the wall-mounted television. The news is on but thankfully has been muted. From here I have a good view of the garden, and it’s nice not to have the hum of the office in my ears.
We had the extension done two years ago. Before that, the kitchen had been adequate enough but was a long and narrow space with no room for eating. I recall a happy, boozy evening, just the two of us in the lounge with the French doors thrown open, planning the new space we’d use for family living. I loved the idea that the person doing the cooking would easily be able to interact with other family members and guests, rather than be screened off from all the fun.
This was back in the days when we still used to have friends over regularly for a late supper of seafood risotto or Shaun’s legendary spag bol, washed down with copious amounts of wine and followed by thick slices of my home-made lemon drizzle cake with good coffee.
We haven’t done the friends thing for a long time now. Both of us so busy with work and… well, with life itself. And we soon realised that awkward questions from other people were far more easily avoided when we kept ourselves to ourselves.
During the past twelve months, I found myself avoiding the kitchen living space when I could. It was too open, with nowhere to hide when the bristling frustrations crackled like electricity between the two of us. They seemed to gather strength when I spent time in there with him.
But after we made the new arrangement, the animosity seemingly dissolved into thin air, leaving me, finally, with some space to breathe.
Until he started seeing Joanne, when it became apparent that the negative feelings hadn’t really dissolved at all.
