by Sarah Morgan
The floor-to-ceiling glass that made up two sides of Hannah McBride’s corner office offered an enviable view of Manhattan.
Hannah sat with her back to it.
It seemed to Angie that Hannah had turned her back on a lot of things.
There had been rumors about her and Adam Kirkman, but Angie couldn’t imagine it. She was sure that any man getting too close to Hannah McBride would risk frostbite.
“Angie?” Hannah interrupted her call. “Would you wait a moment, please?”
Hannah saw her assistant freeze and felt a flash of guilt. She knew people found her unapproachable because it had been raised at her last performance review. Fortunately for her, she shone in other aspects of her work. Her outstanding financial contribution, together with the respect of her clients, meant that her job was unlikely to be at risk.
Still, as a naturally competitive person, the feedback niggled and she knew it was something she needed to address. It wasn’t that she was a bully, far from it. It was more that she approached people management in the same way she approached everything else—with an analytical style. She cared very much about the growth and development of her staff, but she wasn’t good at engaging on a personal level.
Adam, she knew, was more touchy-feely.
What was she supposed to do? Hug the staff every morning?
She returned briefly to her call. “I need those numbers by close of business.” She put her phone on the desk and smiled at Angie. “Thank you for buying the girls’ gifts.”
“You’re welcome, Miss McBride—I mean Hannah. It must be hard for you trying to choose the right gift when you don’t have kids. I hope they’re pleased.”
When you don’t have kids—
Seven days late, Hannah thought.
She still hadn’t plucked up the courage to do the test and get a definitive answer. If she carried on like this, she’d have confirmation that she was pregnant when she was pushing in the delivery suite.
Oh God—
“You have a child, don’t you, Angie?”
Angie’s face brightened. “Yes, Miss Mc—Hannah. I have a little girl.”
Was she an accident?
Did you want to get pregnant or did you freak out and panic?
“I guess—well, life must have changed when you had her.”
“That’s an understatement.” Angie crossed the room and picked up the two empty mugs from Hannah’s desk. “They say you don’t know worry until you have kids, and they’re right. Take the past couple of weeks—she’s been ill and we’ve been back to that emergency room three times. Terrifying. The one word you never want to hear as a mother is meningitis. Fortunately, it wasn’t that, but we all had some sleepless nights. She’s home now but still taking meds. She’s been a little fractious, which isn’t easy to handle. She’s awake most of the night coughing, so I’m awake, too, worrying, you know?”
No, she didn’t know. And the fact that she didn’t want to know was the reason she didn’t have children. That depth of searing anxiety and raw emotion was something she could happily live without.
For a brief moment she remembered Posy clinging to her, a sodden heap of inconsolable grief and confusion.
Where’s Mommy? Want Mommy. When will Mommy be home?
Emotions smashed through the wall she’d built, cascading over all her defenses and flooding every part of her. She pushed back, trying to cage those feelings and control them, the way she always did.
Angie peered at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.” Her mouth was dry and her hands were shaking. “And I hope your little girl is better soon.”
“Thank you. I sometimes think that being a parent is the hardest thing in the world.”
It was exactly what she didn’t need to hear.
Hannah felt terror grip her throat. Her body felt tingly and a wave of dizziness smashed into her. The walls of her office seemed to be closing in and she couldn’t see Angie properly. There were spots in front of her eyes.
Panic attack, she thought. She was having a panic attack, right here at her desk, when she was due in an important client meeting in a matter of minutes. Worse was the terror that her colleagues might discover that Hannah McBride wasn’t exactly the woman she presented to the world.
Angie looked alarmed. “I’m going to fetch you a glass of water.”
Hannah forced herself to slow her breathing.
“Hannah? Oh, hi, Angie,” Adam’s voice cut through the clouds of panic. “How’s little Emma? Better?”
“Yes, thank you. Miss Mc—Hannah isn’t feeling too good. I’m going to fetch her some water. Will you stay with her a minute?”
Hannah’s pulse rate revved up to dangerous levels. She didn’t need Adam to stay with her. She needed to use the few minutes she had before the meeting to compose herself.
She saw Angie smile at him the way all women smiled at Adam, even the married ones, and then melt out of the room.
Adam closed the door to her office. “Hannah? You’re not well?”
She gripped the edge of her chair. She needed to respond, but she couldn’t breathe.
She forced words through her constricted airways. “Need a minute—start without me.”
“Apart from I love you, three little words I have never in my life heard you say before are start without me.” Adam strode across to her. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Busy.”
He walked round her desk, spun her chair so that she was facing him and dropped to his haunches in front of her. “You’re shaking.”
Her fingers were tingling. Her chest hurt.
Through a fog, she felt him take her hands in his.
“You’re going to be fine, honey. Breathe slowly. That’s it.” He held her hands tightly and gently stroked her wrists with his thumbs. “This isn’t like you.”
It was like her, but of course he’d never seen this side of her. He saw Work Hannah, and Barefoot-Eating-Pizza-from-the-Box Hannah. He’d never met Panic-Attack Hannah.
Slowly, gradually, the terrifying panic loosened its grip, leaving her weak and exposed, and with a whole new problem.
She’d believed she could talk her way out of anything, but she had no idea how to talk her way out of this.
Her fingers were freezing and even the firm pressure of his hands did nothing to warm them.
She registered the slow stroke of his thumbs on her skin and the reassuring pressure of his fingers.
Could a panic attack hurt a baby?
She needed to do the test so that she knew what she was dealing with.
“Not feeling well. A bug—it’s going around.” She knew that what she had wasn’t contagious, but she didn’t intend to share that fact.
“Something upset you. Was it Angie?” He cupped her cheek and she leaned into his hand, allowing herself that single moment of intimacy.
She knew with a terrifying clarity that once she did the test there would be no hiding the result from him. She wouldn’t be able to take time to think about it. He always saw through her.
She stood up carefully, testing the strength in her legs. “We have a meeting to get to.”
Adam rose to his feet, too. “A meeting you’re in no shape to attend. I’m going to tell them you won’t be joining us.”
“No.” She grabbed her phone. Her legs felt like jelly, and not up to the task of supporting her. “I can do this.”
“We’re friends, Hannah. You can trust me. You can lean on me.”
She’d already done too much leaning. And too much laughing, talking and dancing.
Too much of everything.
She glanced at the door. “This isn’t appropriate.”
“You’ve been working too hard. Forget Scotland for Christmas. Come to the Caribbean with me. We’ll swim in the ocean and ma
ke love on a beach.”
She needed some distance from Adam so that she could work out what to do, so she said the first thing that came into her head. “I have to go to Scotland tomorrow.”
He frowned. “I thought you were flying on Christmas Eve.”
“My sister is ill.”
“Since when?” His confusion turned to concern. “Why didn’t you say so right away? No wonder you’re stressed. What’s wrong with her?”
Hannah floundered. “They’re not sure. That’s why I need to be there.”
“Of course. No wonder you were looking panicked. I know you’re not that close to your sister, but you must be worried.” He was all brisk efficiency. “How can I help? Would you rather go tonight? Should I send someone round to your apartment to pack you a case? Book you a flight?”
Hannah almost whimpered aloud. Now she was going to have to either admit to the lie or go home to Scotland early. “Tomorrow is fine. I’m sorry. I know we have the presentation to finalize, but I’ll work from there.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He drew in a long breath. “Let me know which flight you book and I’ll take you to the airport.”
“I’ll take a cab.” Maybe going back to Scotland wasn’t a bad idea. At least she’d have room to think there. She scooped up her jacket from the back of the chair. “We should get to this meeting.”
His face was inscrutable. “I love you, Hannah.”
There was a thickening in her throat and a pressure in her chest.
This wasn’t a path she’d wanted to take. Love, marriage and kids—that life wasn’t for her. Love made you vulnerable, and she’d been determined never to be vulnerable again.
Except that now she might be pregnant.
The first thing she was going to do when she arrived home was buy a test.
9
Beth
Across town Beth was also walking into a meeting. Like her sister, Beth was relying on her acting skills to get her through.
She’d already texted Jason twice to check that the girls were okay. Part of her wanted to leave him to it, but maternal instinct—or was it anxiety?—forced her to interfere.
She’d promised the girls that if they behaved well she’d do crafting with them later. Normally the thought of all that glitter, glue and paint spread around her kitchen was enough to squash all her “good mommy” intentions, but she’d been desperate enough to promise anything.
Trying to focus her mind on the job, she walked into the elevator and smoothed her skirt.
I am a competent professional.
Although I am an expert at cutting up children’s food, that is not my only skill.
The offices of Glow PR were on the thirtieth floor of a high-rise in Midtown and the huge expanse of glass behind the elegant curve of the reception desk offered breath-stealing views over Manhattan.
Beth had forgotten what it was like to see the city from up above.
Sometimes, when you were down there among the crush of people, the beauty was invisible, but up here it was laid out before you like a buffet of opportunity and hope.
“How may I help you?” The receptionist smiled, her lips a perfect curve of shiny red.
Beth resisted the urge to check that she didn’t have sticky fingerprints on her new dress.
“I’m Bethany Butler. I have an appointment with Corinna.”
The receptionist checked her computer screen. “I have a Beth McBride.”
“That’s me.” Even when she’d married Jason, Corinna had continued to introduce her as Beth McBride, refusing to accept that Beth’s circumstances had changed.
The receptionist’s expression suggested it was time Beth figured out her own name. “Take a seat. She’ll be right with you.”
Too nervous to sit, Beth walked to the window and stared at the view.
She hoped Jason had managed to find Ruby’s gloves before he left the apartment. She’d left him a note. Would he read it?
He’d probably be too busy trying to get them out of the door on time. She should have texted him.
She heard the brisk tap of stiletto on marble and turned to see Corinna striding toward her.
“Admiring our view? The whole world is right there at your feet. It’s been a while, Beth.” She leaned in and Beth was engulfed in a cloud of expensive perfume. It brought back so many memories. Laughter, teamwork, stress, late nights, hard work, exhaustion, more stress, elation, glamour, success and more free samples than she’d known what to do with.
Over the last seven years the only outlet for her creativity had been finger painting.
“I’m excited to be here.” She could feel the energy seeping into her, as if someone had plugged her into a power source.
Through an internal wall of glass she could see four immaculately dressed women in a meeting and could almost feel the buzz and energy in that room. Here, people worried about something other than what they were eating for dinner and whether the children had clean clothes.
She wanted badly to join this world.
What if Jason felt as strongly about having more children as she did about going back to work? Where would that leave them?
“I’ve been busy since we last met.” Corinna stepped back and surveyed her. “I’m loving that look, Bethany. Did you style that yourself?”
No, my seven-year-old daughter advised me.
After sixteen different outfit changes, all of which Melly had patiently observed from the bed, Beth had settled for a short black dress with her favorite over-the-knee boots. She rarely wore them because they weren’t the ideal footwear for chasing after two little girls in Central Park.
“You need to wear your hair up,” Melly had said. “But keep it wispy on the sides. And red lipstick.”
Beth had been pleased with the result.
Melly might not achieve her ambition to be a princess, but she would make a great stylist.
“Let me give you the tour. We’ve only been in these offices for three weeks, so we’re still making ourselves at home.” Corinna led her down the light-filled corridor. The walls were covered with photographs of skinny, angry-looking models. It was obvious Corinna had been working with some major brands since Beth had last seen her.
“This is impressive.”
“I always wanted my own agency. I never was any good at doing what other people told me to do.” Corinna flashed her a smile devoid of warmth or humor. “We have big clients, but I want more. I’m hungry, and everyone on my team is equally hungry. Are you hungry, Beth?”
Beth knew how hungry Corinna was. She’d worked for her before.
She tried not to think about Jason’s warning.
“I’m hungry.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d been too nervous to consume more than a cup of black coffee before leaving the apartment and her stomach was already protesting.
“We are pitching for a major cosmetics brand right now.” Corinna gestured to the group of people huddled over storyboards in the glass-walled office. “They’ve created a range of looks that are simple to apply so even if you know nothing about makeup, you can look polished. When we win, we’ll be hiring.”
Beth noticed she said when and not if. Corinna never entertained the possibility that life might not go her way. Had she ever had that much confidence? “Sounds great.”
“The number one quality that I look for in a team member is loyalty. I want one hundred and fifty percent.”
Beth didn’t even bother doing the calculation to work out how much of herself that would leave for her family.
“You know me, Corinna,” she said. “I’m loyal.”
She was also a wife and a mother, but she’d think about how to balance that equation later.
“I’d like to hear your ideas on this one.”
Beth felt a jolt of shock. “Are you offering me a job?�
��
“Let’s see what you have first. If I’m impressed, then you’ll join us for the pitch. After that, we’ll talk.” Corinna opened another glass door and strode into a large office. “Sit down. I’ll give you a copy of the brief—you’ll have to sign a confidentiality agreement of course—and then you can take it home and put together some ideas. Write the proposal you think will wow me. Come back next week.”
And there it was. The pressure. The expectation.
Beth hadn’t expected things to move quite so fast. She felt as if she’d been walking on a treadmill and someone had suddenly pressed Sprint. She was in danger of falling flat on her face and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
She slid into a chair, relieved to take the weight off her feet. The boots looked gorgeous, but it turned out that after five minutes’ wear they were horribly uncomfortable. “I won’t be here next week. I’m going home to Scotland.”
“Death in the family?” Corinna’s tone suggested that nothing short of death would coax a person to leave Manhattan.
“It’s Christmas.”
It was obvious that someone had forgotten to write that date in Corinna’s schedule.
“The pitch will give you an excuse to escape from all the awful family stuff.”
Beth decided this probably wasn’t a good moment to admit that she loved the family stuff.
She noticed that Corinna hadn’t once asked her about the children. “When is the pitch?”
“January. We need to knock this one out of the park.” Corinna gave her details on the company and outlined the key marketing strategy for the new makeup range. “We have dozens of samples. Take some when you go. Your ideas are very important to me. The moment we were given the brief, I thought to myself, Beth McBride.”
Beth was ridiculously flattered. She forgot about the stress, the pressure and the obstacles.
Corinna thought her ideas were important.
She had something to contribute.
She sat a little straighter. “I can’t wait to read the brief.”
