by Carmen Reid
Bella was stunned. It was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping open. The Merris executives thought that their thousands of pounds a day, A-list consultant was turning up with a hangover and drinking in her office.
There was only one response. She snorted with laughter at Mitch, then added: ‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life.’
She put out her cigarette with a single stab and told him: ‘I have a perfectly straightforward medical condition I’m not prepared to discuss which will make long tube journeys and greasy breakfasts difficult for a few more weeks. No-one has ever accused me of having a drink problem before and it’s certainly not going to start now. I am the most hard-working, 110 per cent person you’re ever going to meet. In fact, if you or your colleagues so much as whisper “drink problem” between yourselves again, I’ll have you up on a libel charge.’
It was Mitch’s turn to look stunned. He realized he was going to have to patch this up pretty quickly.
‘Look, er . . .’ he fiddled with the knot of his tie, ‘I hope you’ll accept my apology. Obviously a complete misunderstanding. I’m sure it will be fine for you to come into morning conference a bit later.’ He smiled. ‘But you should eat something, you know – protein-based breakfast equals better productivity.’
‘Oh really!’ she said, but he missed her sarcasm.
‘Yeah, I thought you’d know that,’ he said. ‘You’re all about improving performance, you should take every little factor on board.’
That was too much.
‘How about the fact that people working 12 hours a day, five days a week, tend to under-perform, leave their jobs sooner, take more days off in illness and suffer higher levels of depression,’ she shot back at him.
‘So, we’re in too early for you,’ he replied. Ouch, this was getting nasty.
‘No,’ she answered in a conciliatory tone now. ‘I think you all stay too late. From 5 p.m. onwards, hardly anyone in this building does anything constructive. It would probably do you all good to go home to your families.’
‘Yes, well . . . that would be nice,’ he said with a smile.
‘Do you have kids?’ she asked because it had recently occurred to her that she didn’t know anyone her own age who did.
‘Yeah . . . two boys, Mickey five and Joel, three.’
‘Nice names,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’
‘I do appreciate the offer of coming in after breakfast. That would work much better for me, thanks,’ Bella smiled now.
‘Bella,’ Mitch smiled back and ran a hand through his sandy hair, ‘I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot here. I’ve looked into the work Prentice and Partners has done recently and you do seem to be able to turn companies around amazingly fast. God knows we need a shake-up, but I have no idea how you’ll get this lot to take on anything new.’
‘Well, you’ll just have to watch and learn.’ She arched her eyebrows.
‘I look forward to it. Where do you live, by the way?’
‘Belsize Park, north London,’ she said.
‘It’s just that Geoff has a driver pick him up from Swiss Cottage every morning, maybe he can collect you en route.’
No more tube. Thank you, God.
The following morning, a sleek black limo pulled up at 7 a.m. A limo! she thought as she climbed in; that will bloody well have to go when the new management plan comes into action.
Geoff, the finance director, was already in the back but fortunately not desperate for conversation. They sat companionably together, reading their FTs and passing the odd comment.
On arrival at Merris Group, Geoff went into breakfast while Bella hid in her office for twenty minutes eating yoghurt and drinking water. The sickness was still there, but it was bearable, so for the first time that week she was starting to feel slightly more optimistic about the job ahead of her: turning this dinosaur company around before it became completely extinct.
Later in the day she scrolled through a raft of new e-mails to find a message from Chris:
Darling, how is it going all the way over there in rural Hammersmith? Merris will have to do without your brilliance for a few days because we are off to pitch for work together in Birmingham.
Chris, hello. B’ham?? Really?? I didn’t know anything about this. When? Where? Who?
Ah! There you are. Express orders of the boss. Three days of meetings in the next week or so at the wonderful Salwood House Hotel in the countryside. You, me, hard work, fine wines. It’s going to be lovely. Client is Bensons. Small finance company over here with a big partner in the States.
OK. Well, phone me next week with the details and I’ll sort it out. It better be a good job.
Let’s just say if we get this, we’ll all be upgrading cars sweetie.
I love my car.
It’s so old!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s a classic. Now go away, some of us have work to do.
Byeeeeee. Looking forward to B’ham.
Oh God, it wasn’t exactly hard to work out what he had on his mind . . . and now she had it on her mind as well.
She clicked back to the file she’d been working on and tried to focus.
Chapter Seven
BELLA THREW HERSELF onto the bed and listened to her heart thudding in her chest. What the hell was she doing? She had wedged a chair under the door handle, not because she was worried that Chris might try and force his way in, but to stop herself from getting out again – well at least not without thinking twice, three times and maybe once again before doing it.
Here she was trapped in luxury, country house hotel splendour with a dark and handsome colleague who was on charm offensive. It was only Wednesday and they were here together until Friday. She didn’t trust herself any more; how could she after what had happened?
She had met Chris on the stairs earlier in the evening as they’d come down for dinner. He’d been looking particularly edible in a dark, close-cut suit and fat glossy tie and had leaned over to kiss her on the cheek saying: ‘I swear, I’d be soooooo discreet.’
She had answered with a flirtatious laugh and given him the arched eyebrow thing because she didn’t want to say ‘yes’ but still hadn’t learned how to say ‘no’.
They’d met the clients in the bar and gone through to the dining room where Chris had manoeuvred himself next to her and throughout the exquisite meal had held his hand oh so gently on her leg, running his finger up and down the inside of her thigh, daring to get to the top of her stocking and feel his way along the skin exposed there.
Above the table, she’d been holding her own in a heated financial debate and below, she was considering a red hot invitation. The combination was intoxicating, her conversation was getting faster and more passionate and she was knocking back glass after glass of wine.
After dinner, they’d all retired to the library for brandies, then the clients had gone to hold a phone conference with the American office.
Chris, Bella and another round of drinks were left alone in the quiet room where Bella had sunk back in her leather armchair and was staring into the fire.
‘I don’t care how long it takes, Bella, I know I’m going to wear you down,’ Chris had said to her quietly. ‘We could sneak back down here to the fire later on. Imagine the thrill. Someone walking in on two financial superbrains writhing naked on the carpet in unbridled passion.’
She’d laughed, swallowed a sip of brandy, then said, ‘It would be against the Code of Conduct, Chris. But would it improve my chances of promotion?’
He’d looked at her, smiling with that soft, expressive mouth: ‘Well, if I was a total bastard, I’d say yes. But the truth is, you’re probably going to become a partner much sooner than you think. You’re a very clever girl.’
‘I already know that,’ she’d answered.
‘And you’re bloody sexy as well.’
‘Ah ha, I happen to know that too.’ She’d drained her glass. ‘And use it to full advantage.’
‘Why not?’ she’d answered, stepping lightly out of the chair and across the room. She’d walked quickly across the hall and suddenly it had felt like a chase, so she’d run up the huge staircase two steps at a time, hearing Chris start to run after her.
She’d turned down the long corridor and raced for her door, giggling, with Chris belting along close behind her. At the door, she’d turned to face him. They were both breathing hard with effort and excitement.
He’d leaned towards her and they’d started to kiss, just softly on the lips for a moment, then, as she pulled him against her, their mouths had opened hungrily.
She’d pushed her tongue deep, tasting wet warmth and brandy and she’d begun to shudder with the pleasure of it. Her arms were round his waist untucking his shirt, so she could feel the warm, soft skin on his back as he nudged an erection against her and began to unbutton her blouse.
Her eyes closed, she’d leaned her head back and felt him kiss her breasts while her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest and she knew she was very close, very close to the point where it would be impossible to . . .
‘Chris, I just can’t,’ she’d forced herself to say.
‘Ssh!’ he’d whispered ‘Ssh! No, no, no, no . . . You know you don’t mean that.’
And he was so right, she didn’t mean it. She could, she really could. She just absolutely shouldn’t.
‘I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry, I do.’ She’d said this gently, pulling away from him.
He’d opened his eyes and held her gaze for a long moment, then snapped: ‘What is the matter with you? You are going to drive me completely insane.’
Holding her tightly round the waist he looked far too fuckable to turn down, but she had to get a grip: ‘I’m sorry, Chris, I’m sorry. I’ve got to stop doing this. God, I’m married . . . you’re my boss. This is ridiculous.’
He hadn’t said anything, so she’d added, ‘Look, I’m just going to say good night now, I don’t want to make things worse.’
His arms had fallen from her waist. ‘OK, fine,’ he’d said finally. ‘Good night it is, then.’ He’d turned on his heel and she’d watched him walk down the corridor.
She’d gone into her room where she was lying on the bed now, full of remorse. What is the matter with me? Haven’t I messed things up enough already? she thought. She was pregnant, for Christ’s sake. Pregnant!! Hello!! Was she completely mad? She wondered if, in the words of Mitch, she needed help.
If she could just be faithful, she’d get to keep Don for ever – it really wasn’t such a bad deal, was it? But the thought of lifelong fidelity scared her. She was like a reformed alcoholic who had to take it one day at a time.
She had been utterly faithful to Daniel, the first love of her life, but he’d broken her heart and since then every man who’d even thought about falling in love with her had been dumped or cheated on. Until Don.
Don had convinced her to take the barriers down and trust him.
But sometimes she wondered if Daniel had taken some non-returnable piece of her heart with him. The scar had healed up nicely but sometimes it ached. It ached for a time when she’d thought love was perfect and unbreakable, not this extremely intricate and complicated machine which needed daily tuning and maintenance or else all kinds of crap was liable to get in there and mess it up.
Christ, she was so tired of always having at least three men in her head – the one she was with, the one she’d left and the one she wanted. It was time to put a little faith in the lovely man she’d married. She’d trusted him, she had to go on trusting him and stop trying to fuck the whole thing up.
It was 1.15 a.m. but she dialled her home number.
‘Hello?’ came Don’s groggy, sleepy voice at the other end of the line.
‘Hi, darling,’ she said gently. ‘Sorry to wake you. I’m really sorry I didn’t call you earlier.’
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘Busy night?’
‘Yeah . . . I love you, Don.’
‘I love you too. Are you OK?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to hear you. You better go back to sleep.’
They said their goodbyes and rang off. She felt a little better.
The next morning, she woke early and ran, nervous at the prospect of facing Chris again.
Sober grey skirt, pale grey skinny rib jumper and her least frivolous shoes were picked out of her bag. This was definitely a no green signals day. She felt queasy as she went down to breakfast – a mixture of mild morning sickness and nerves.
In the dining room, Chris was already at a table so she went over and said a guarded ‘Hello there.’
He smiled back, ‘Hello, darling. The scrambled eggs are delicious. Grab some, sit down beside me and tell me what we are going to blind our boys with this morning.’
‘Thanks, Chris,’ she said. She couldn’t help but be grateful for the fact that he was happy to file last night away in the stupid mistake drawer and try to go back to the flirty, matey work relationship they’d had before all this lust started floating to the surface and causing havoc.
The day went well and ended with the two of them in the library together again, but the mood was very different. Surrounded by leather-bound books and wood panelling, Bella felt at ease. Apart from a residual flirtiness, the sexual tension in the air between them had diffused. They were even sitting side by side on the same sofa and it didn’t feel dangerous. They were talking work and bitching about the clients.
‘They may be brilliant, but they are so dull,’ said Bella. ‘Their idea of fun is a novelty golf club cover.’
Chris laughed at this, but then turned to her with a serious face and said, ‘Bella, why can’t I shake the feeling that you might be the one person in the world who’s perfect for me, but I got there too late?’
For a moment she was too surprised to answer, but she realized he was waiting for a reply.
‘Erm . . . thank you, that’s very nice . . .’ she said, ‘but I can’t be your perfect person, because she’ll feel just the same and make herself available no matter what.’
Bella swirled the brandy round in her glass and added: ‘I’m married. Liking me is just another symptom of your commitment phobia. I know this because I’m a bit the same.’
‘Really?’ He was surprised now.
She took a long drag on her cigarette, then said: ‘I’m really in love with my husband. He’s definitely the best thing that ever happened to me. I want us to have kids, grow old together, the whole thing. But I still haven’t got out of the habit of pushing the self-destruct button whenever things are going well.’
She stubbed her butt out into the ashtray to hide her filling eyes and immediately took out another cigarette and lit up again.
‘It’s OK,’ Chris said. ‘It never happened, OK? We’ll just hit delete. You’re happily married with a clear conscience . . . no consequences.’
Bella smiled; it was a nice thought, but the guilt didn’t go away quite so easily.
After a long pause, Chris finally said, ‘OK, maybe you’re right Bella, I’m 34, I’ve got to sort my life out and find a good woman. And I don’t want to be going to her wedding three weeks after I’ve met her.’
‘Ah! I’m sorry . . . I don’t know what to say. This is all ridiculously flattering,’ she said.
He leaned back with a sigh. ‘OK, that’s it. I’m going to give up on you, then . . . for the moment anyway.’
Chapter Eight
BELLA WAS SITTING in the sauna with Tania. They had managed to drag each other out on this freezing cold, grey December Sunday to get to the gym, and now they were relaxing.
‘God, you are filling out, Bella,’ Tania said, in the blunt matter-of-fact way that only best friends can get away with. ‘Is it all the weights you’re doing?’
‘No you complete cow, it’s because I’m almost four months pregnant.’
Bel
la was enjoying the look of shock on her friend’s face.
‘WHAT!!!!!!!!’
‘Yup. I’ve been absolutely dying to tell you. Don and I are, fingers crossed, going to have a baby. And you better be pleased, because I want you to be godmother.’
‘Oh my God. I can’t believe it. You and Don . . . Parents!!!’ She gave a little shriek, then leaned over to give Bella a big sweaty hug and a kiss.
‘That is absolutely amazing. I just can’t believe it. You?? Bella, mathematical genius, financial whiz-kid and career girl. You’re going to be a mummy. My God! You’re still so young! Bloody hell! What are your plans?’
‘Take maternity leave then go back to work.’
‘Of course. But it’s so brave of you to take on all that extra responsibility. I’m so busy right now, I barely remember to feed my cat.’
‘Not helping Tania.’
‘God, I’m still in shock. You and Don. . . I can only picture you together in a bar drunk. You’re obviously doing a brilliant job of domesticating each other. My God, he’s going to be pushing a pram. What does he think about it?’
‘He’s fine,’ Bella answered. ‘He’s being very mature. I think he’s finally realizing he’s a grown-up.’
‘This is so amazing,’ Tania said, ‘Where are you having it?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy?’ Tania could barely contain her excitement.
‘No, not yet.’
‘We’ll have to go shopping for gorgeous glamorous maternity clothes for you and cutesy baby things. Oh my God, do you know what this means – I’m going to be thinner than you! Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Tania hugged her again. ‘This is going to be so much fun.’
Bella beamed back at her. Tania was taking this much better than expected. Bella had dreaded Tania disapproving or being jealous, or somehow making her feel it would drive a wedge between them.
