Time After Time

by Hannah McKinnon

  *

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ Ellen said while she laid the table that evening. ‘You really fancied this Ian bloke at the club?’

  ‘Yes.’ Hayley passed her the jug of water and a pack of paper napkins.

  ‘And when you saw him today all you could think about was shagging him on the boardroom table?’

  ‘Um,’ Hayley scratched her head and crinkled up her nose, ‘Well, yes.’

  Ellen set the jug on the table, tore open the pack of napkins and looked at Hayley. ‘And he’s asked you out to lunch tomorrow?’

  ‘He didn’t ask. It was a command,’ Hayley said in protest, as she tried to toss the salad with the oversized wooden spoons, and dropped it all over the kitchen floor instead. ‘He assumed I was willing and free. That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it?’

  ‘And are you? Willing and free, I mean?’ Mark said, leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed and a cheeky grin. Hayley knew he enjoyed these conversations. He’d once said listening to her and Ellen gab helped him better understand the workings of the female brain. Ellen had giggled and instructed him to sack his translator.

  ‘Well, yes, I am,’ said Hayley. ‘But –’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ Ellen and Mark said in unison and reached over to high-five each other.

  ‘Come on, Hayley,’ Ellen continued. ‘Let him buy you lunch and see where it goes.’

  ‘But he’s a client. It’s against the rules.’

  ‘Bollocks to the rules and he’s not a client yet.’ Ellen wiped a fork on her jumper. ‘Careful. You’re becoming one of those uptight solicitors with a broom up your arse. Live a little. You don’t have to marry him, it’s only lunch. You know you want to.’

  Of course she did. She fancied Ian like crazy. Her fantasies about him were some of the dirtiest thoughts she’d ever had, but she couldn’t make out if it was because of his good looks, his overt arrogance, or both.

  The next morning Hayley spent twice as long in the shower, on her hair and her make-up, then agonised over what to wear. She finally decided on her ‘professional, savvy and smart’ outfit. A black knee-length skirt that had large buttons on the side, an emerald green, long-sleeved blouse and a pair of black high heels that gave her an extra boost of confidence.

  She spent the morning attempting to work on the report for Ian but kept looking at the clock every few minutes instead. By five to twelve, Hayley’s stomach had twisted itself into a knot the size of a basketball, and she persuaded herself the entire conversation with Ian about lunch was as real as the Tooth Fairy. She started chastising herself for being so silly when her phone rang.

  ‘Hayley,’ said Sharon from reception, ‘Mr. Graham is here for you.’

  Her stomach lurched. She decided to let him stew for a minute so she sat on her hands for exactly one minute and forty-five seconds, then grabbed her coat and bag and took purposely long strides to the reception area.

  ‘Miss Adams.’ Ian shook her hand. His eyes twinkled and his lips formed a hint of a smile. ‘I’m pleased you could join me for lunch.’

  She took in his black suit, crisp blue shirt and long black coat. His whole demeanour screamed elegant sophistication. He looked like Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard. Hayley’s throat went dry.

  ‘Hello, Mr. Graham,’ she answered, her tone formal. ‘And thank you for the invitation.’

  ‘Call me Ian, please.’

  They waited in silence for the lift to arrive. When they got in and the doors closed, Hayley could barely stop herself from tearing his clothes off.

  ‘I knew you’d come.’

  Touch me and I’ll come right now. What am I like? Stop it. Business. It’s all business.

  ‘Well … it’s unprofessional to turn down a lunch invitation from a new client.’

  He smiled and stepped closer. She felt his warm breath on her neck and, before she could stop it, a small sigh escaped her lips.

  ‘Potential new client,’ he whispered. ‘And I hoped it would be a more personal conversation.’ He took hold of her shoulders and turned her around to face him, moving even closer, their lips almost touching. ‘Because I wanted to send Ronald and Tony out of the room the moment you walked in.’ He ran a finger down her arm slowly.

  Hayley swallowed. She closed her eyes and tilted her head towards him, ready to accept his kiss. The lift jolted, the doors opened and she took a quick step back. He chuckled.

  As Ian guided her outside, she felt his hand on the small of her back and she wished he’d let it slide down lower. They walked along the Strand to the taxi stand and when their arms occasionally brushed, it sent an electrifying ripple of excitement through her body.

  Take me to a hotel. Take me back to your place. Oh just take me. Do it. Do it.

  ‘I have a reservation at The Ivy, have you been?’ Ian said.

  ‘Oh … blimey, no. Don’t you have to book weeks in advance?’

  He smiled but didn’t answer, and held open the taxi door. She wiped her clammy hands on her skirt as she tried to think of something remotely intelligent to say. Nothing popped into her head so she decided to stay quiet.

  ‘Mr. Graham. Such a pleasure to see you again.’ The Ivy’s hostess looked more like a supermodel with her high cheekbones and impeccable smile. She shook Ian’s hand and turned to Hayley. ‘Good afternoon, Madam.’

  ‘Good to see you again too, Naomi,’ Ian said and smiled back.

  Hayley immediately noticed the familiarity between them so she stood up taller and sucked in her stomach a little further.

  ‘Please,’ Naomi gestured with her hand. ‘Your table’s ready.’

  Hayley gulped as she followed Naomi to their designated booth. The soft lighting glowed gently and the tables were dressed with immaculate white linen and shiny silverware. As they passed a waitress carrying plates of daintily plated food, Hayley’s senses went into overdrive. The tantalising aromas of spices and red wine instantly made her mouth water. Their waiter arrived and handed them menus. Ian ordered two glasses of Moët & Chandon and smiled at her.

  ‘I trust that’s alright with you?’ he said.

  She nodded, then wondered how far her five quid lunch budget would take her. When she opened her menu, she realised it would be about a half of a bowl of soup, and even then she’d have to stay all afternoon to wash the dishes.

  Ian must have seen her wince because he said, ‘I recommend the seared foie gras as a starter and the lamb for the main course. But we’ll skip dessert. And lunch is my treat to say thank you for your help.’

  Hayley let her shoulders drop. ‘But I haven’t done anything for you yet.’

  ‘True. But I’m sure you’ll be excellent.’ He stared at her, one eyebrow arched slightly, an amused smile playing on his lips. ‘I bet you’re a good student.’

  Hayley blushed again and let a few seconds pass, wondering how to start a conversation. She sipped on her glass of deliciously chilled champagne before finally saying, ‘So, uh, where are you from?’ Ian looked at her silently for a moment and she cleared her throat. ‘I … er … You don’t have to tell me if –’

  He held up his hand. ‘I grew up in Edinburgh, the rougher part, that is. Studied economics.’

  Hayley relaxed a little. ‘Did you work in Edinburgh?’

  ‘At a bank for a few years, then I convinced them to lend me the money to buy a small company that made high-performance industrial motors.’

  Pretending to understand, she said, ‘Sounds … interesting.’

  ‘Indeed. The company was struggling but it had potential. I like potential. And a challenge.’ He smiled at her as he unfolded his napkin and set it on his lap. ‘Within three years we’d become the biggest exporter in the UK. Two years ago, the day before my thirtieth birthday, in fact, I sold the company.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ He was only ten years older than her and yet Hayley felt he’d accomplished so much. ‘That’s an amazing story. And now you’re in London.’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled a
gain. ‘On the hunt for more potential.’

  ‘Did you move here with your wife or your girlfriend then?’ Hayley said as casually as she possibly could while playing with her fork.

  Ian laughed. ‘No, Hayley. I did not. I’m currently single.’

  She wanted to shout ‘Result!’ so she bit her lip for a second and instead said, ‘What about your family? They must be very proud.’

  He shifted in his seat. ‘My parents and I don’t speak often. Now, what about you?’

  ‘Gosh, not much to say, really. Born and bred in Ealing. Studied law at City. Been working at Simpson and Partners since I qualified.’

  ‘What’s your speciality?’

  ‘Well, anything Ronald gives me.’

  ‘And what do you prefer?’

  ‘Mergers and acquisitions.’ She sat up straight. ‘I’m good at those.’

  ‘Boyfriend?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Pity.’

  Hayley looked at him quizzically and he shrugged. ‘I like challenges.’

  The champagne on Hayley’s empty stomach started to take effect and she leaned forwards. ‘Do you always get what you want, Ian?’ She hoped she looked and sounded as sexy as she thought she did.

  He shifted his body towards hers as the waiter arrived with their starters. ‘Always.’

  They had a glass of Château Margaux to accompany the succulent lamb dish. Hayley watched the waiter walk by with a delicate puff-pastry dessert, and wished she had one in front of her too. She’d never had never had a more delicious, refined and expensive meal.

  ‘I’d better get you back to the office or Ronald will wonder what I’ve done with you,’ Ian said, waving his platinum credit card at the waiter.

  Hayley giggled. She’s already been gone well over an hour. ‘Well … you could phone and tell him you need to borrow me for the rest of the day.’

  Whoops. Better stay professional here … Ooh who cares?

  She fluttered her eyelashes. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘I have a meeting to go to,’ Ian said as he put his napkin on the table. ‘I’m travelling over the next few days but I’ll be back on Saturday. I’ll see you that night. Dinner at eight o’clock. Write down your address and phone number here.’ He handed her his pen and a small pocket book. ‘I’ll pick you up. Don’t be late.’ He shook his head. ‘I hate waiting.’

  So cocky and bossy. But I kind of like it. I bet he does it in bed too.

  Hayley obediently scribbled her details into the pocket book and handed it back to Ian with the pen. He got up, so she followed him, and he took her back to the office in a taxi.

  ‘It’s been a pleasure,’ he said as he shook her hand outside the office building. Then he turned around and walked away before she could utter a reply.

  Her phone rang two minutes after she’d arrived at her desk. ‘Hayley Adams speaking.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to Saturday.’ Ian’s silky smooth voice whispered in her ear and Hayley’s heart did a loop-the-loop. ‘I apologise for being so formal just now. I didn’t want to get you into any trouble. Perhaps I can be less … restrained on Saturday?’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Hayley said. ‘I’d like that very much.’ She looked up and saw Tony standing by her desk, one eyebrow raised. ‘I have to go,’ she said quickly into the phone. ‘Bye.’

  ‘I heard you had lunch with Ian Graham,’ Tony said quietly, his brown eyes sparkling fiercely. He crossed his arms and leaned towards her.

  ‘Yes, I did.’ Hayley took note that the Simpson & Partners grapevine didn’t require an oiling. She sat back in her chair and drummed her fingers on the armrest.

  ‘Didn’t you think it wise to include me?’ Tony stared at her.

  ‘Well, it was only lunch, more of a chat really,’ she said.

  ‘A chat? About what?’

  ‘Well, he’s still new to London. He asked me about the club scene, places to go, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Really?’ Tony raised an eyebrow again.

  ‘Yes. We got talking about it yesterday after the meeting.’

  Tony leaned in further. ‘Sure you did,’ he said. ‘And I don’t like being cut out, Hayley.’

  ‘Tony –’

  ‘No.’ He stood up straight and ran a hand through his mop of short brown curls. ‘You might be a rising star in this office but I hope you won’t do anything to get to the top.’

  She jumped up, tall and assertive in her heels, almost reaching his full height. ‘What are you implying, Tony?’ she said. ‘What do you mean by anything?’

  Blimey. I wouldn’t have said that this morning. When did I grow a pair?

  He took a step back. ‘I find it curious you’re having lunch with my potential client, when you’re supposed to be shadowing me. If I find you’re trying to get the Graham account all to yourself then –’

  ‘Relax,’ Hayley said. She held up a hand and sat down again. ‘I’m shadowing you, I know that. But surely you want me to keep him sweet? It would have looked bad if I’d said no.’ It was all true and she could learn a lot from Tony.

  And I don’t want any funny rumours getting back to Ronald.

  ‘Fine,’ Tony said, puffing out his chest and buttoning up his jacket as he walked away.

  Hayley sank back in her seat.

  Crap. This could get complicated.

  CHAPTER 18

  Living The Dream

  Hayley stared at the wedding picture of her and Ian. She wore the most exquisite dress she’d ever seen; white and sleeveless, with a tight corset and beautifully embroidered flowers cascading down the draped bodice. She wasn’t as slim as she appeared to be now and her face looked better for it. Ian stood next to her in traditional top hat and tails. Hayley couldn’t help noticing that she looked very happy, whereas his stoic smile didn’t quite seem to move much beyond his mouth. She pulled the picture out of the frame and flipped it over, searching for clues. Nothing.

  She took the pile of stationery out of the drawer. The paper and envelopes were thick to the touch, and mint-coloured with a watermark, the type you’d find at a first-class hotel. She ran her thumb over the silver letters that were embossed at the top of the page. They read The Graham Residence and were followed by an address and postal code she recognised. Hayley bit her lip. Yesterday she’d woken up in Chris’ house. This morning, apparently, she was in Ian’s, in Belgravia of all places – the most expensive part in London.

  Am I getting what I asked for? A glimpse into how my life could have been?

  She dug around in the drawer again but a sharp knock on the door made her jump.

  Ian entered the bedroom. ‘Are you ready? Oh …’ He stopped. ‘You … look very nice, Hayley. Really.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, trying not to sound surprised. ‘It’s a beautiful dress.’ With a sudden flash of inspiration she added, ‘But I need my mobile and my purse. Have you seen them?’

  ‘One of your bags is in the dining room,’ he said. ‘Come on.’ He turned and left.

  Hayley followed Ian out of the bedroom and into a hall. She looked left and saw a large window at the end of the corridor then followed Ian who was walking in the opposite direction.

  The long hall had shiny hardwood floors and three closed doors on either side. Hayley was sure that the bedroom they had shared was behind one of them.

  At the end of the hall they reached a spiral staircase, also made of rich hardwood, leading downstairs. She held the banister in case she tripped in her heels on the way down to the massive entrance hall. Its shiny white marble floor gleamed and doors led off in each direction. A three-foot-high, black and white vase filled with purple calla lilies that smelled like freshly washed laundry was on a glass table in the middle of the hallway. There were absolutely no signs of kids in the house, and she couldn’t imagine Ian ever jeopardising the sterility of the home with children’s sticky messes or fits of giggles.

  ‘I’ll get my bag,’ she said and instinctively hurried over to th
e dining room. Although she didn’t have much time to look around, she noticed how comfortably the room held its dining table and chairs for twelve. She’d never been in the house before but she could clearly see the two of them sitting at the table, one on either end, not saying a word. She shook her head, it didn’t seem like she ate more than a lettuce leaf at a time anyway.

  She spotted a black leather handbag on the floor, picked it up and opened it. Inside she found a purse, a make-up bag, a set of keys and a phone.

  ‘I’m ready,’ Hayley said, walking back into the hall, where Ian stood with a long, off-white coat complete with a glossy fur collar, draped over his arm.

  ‘That’s not real, is it?’ she said, backing away slightly.

  ‘Oh boy, another memory lapse,’ Ian answered. ‘Arctic fox. Remember?’ He held the coat out.

  ‘I’m not wearing that,’ Hayley said as she shook her head. ‘I can’t wear real fur.’

  ‘Since when? You …’ Ian stopped, seemingly deciding making the point wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, he exhaled loudly, yanked open the massive built-in cupboard by the entrance and fished out a long black coat. Hayley took it from him and slipped it on, enjoying its warmth and luxurious touch on her skin.

  ‘Come on, the taxi’s waiting,’ Ian said, bustling her out of the front door and into the back of the car without giving her time to look around outside. ‘You forgot these,’ he said when they were sitting in the back of the taxi, and held out his hand. ‘You left them in the kitchen again.’

  There were two rings in his open palm. The first, a silver engagement ring, although Hayley suspected it to be white gold or even platinum. It was encrusted with small diamonds and a sparkling, pea-sized solitaire in the middle. The second was a silver-coloured wedding band with five large diamonds centred across the top. He dropped them into her open hand.

  Good grief, they’re heavy. Probably worth more than I’ve earned in my entire life.

  She slipped them on her left ring finger. Doing so made her think of Rick, Millie and Danny, and she swallowed hard, trying to stop her eyes from prickling.