For the rest of the journey, we are pretty quiet, occasionally making random observations about the scenery around us, but generally we both remain silent. It’s obvious that the phone call from Max has disturbed Craig, and he is brooding over it.
All too soon, we are pulling into a parking space outside my block. I feel an odd sense of nervousness all of a sudden. Our relationship has developed over the weekend, but this is back to reality. I don’t know what to expect, especially now with his current mood. Will he just drop me off here? Will he come up? Will he want to stay for coffee? He is so difficult to read sometimes.
Without a word, he opens his door and walks to the back of the car and opens the boot. He comes up to open my door with one hand, while holding my suitcase in the other.
“Shall we,” he says with a smile, his tone light and playful. God, I wish I could keep up with these mood swings of his. He’s worse than Becki with PMS.
A couple of minutes later, we are standing at my front door, and I’m fiddling through my bag for my keys. The door suddenly swings open, and a high pitched squeal has me scrunching up my face and wanting to put my hands over my ears. “You’re home!” Becki squeals again as she drags me from Craig’s arms and into hers. “Did you have a good time? Please tell me you had a good time. Did he treat you okay? What was it like? What did you do? Tell me, tell me, tell me.” Oh my God. Has she taken Speed or something?
“Calm down, Bec. You’ll give yourself an aneurism. Can we at least get in before the inquisition starts?” I laugh as I push past her and head into the living room.
“Right, you’re in, so spill. How was it?” She asks again, taking a seat on the sofa and watching me expectantly.
Craig drops my case near the sofa then comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, dropping his chin on my shoulder. “Baby, I’m going to head straight off if that’s okay? I’m sure you’ll have fun telling Becki all about our action packed weekend.” With a chuckle he reaches down and pinches my behind, making me squeal this time. This makes him laugh harder before he starts peppering soft kisses along my neck and the exposed skin on my shoulder.
Becki clears her throat, trying to get our attention, but Craig doesn’t stop. If he doesn’t in a minute, I’ll be dragging him off to my room. Becki’s inquisition will have to wait.
I’m getting ready to beg him when he lifts his head and turns me to face him. “Walk me to the door?” he asks as he places a chaste kiss on the tip of my nose.
Nodding, I grab his hand, and we walk back through the living room to the front door.
“I really am going to miss you, Pingu. I’ll see you Wednesday, okay? I’ll go crazy if I have to wait any longer than that.”
“I can’t wait.” I smile up at him and tilt my head to encourage a goodnight kiss, and oh what a goodnight kiss it is. By the time Craig pulls away, we are both breathless and my legs are about to give way.
“Wednesday, okay?”
“Wednesday,” I agree softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” After a last quick kiss, he opens the door and walks out, leaving me standing there with the biggest goofiest grin on my face.
“Oh. My. God. Amber Grace Merchant is in luuuurve,” Becki squeals again from her position leaning against the living room archway. “Amber and Craig sitting in a tree, K.I.S-”
“Will you shut up?” I shout at her, trying to contain my laughter.
“So come on, missy. Don’t keep me in suspense here. How did it go? No wait. That cheesy grin tells me you had a wonderful time, so spill. I want all the juicy info, in graphic detail.”
Memories come flooding back, running through my mind like a movie on fast forward, and once again, I feel my cheeks heating from some very vivid recollections of some very ‘juicy’ encounters.
I’m suddenly being dragged into the living room by a very determined Becki. “Sit,” she orders as she pushes me down onto the sofa. “I’m going to put some coffee on, and then I want to hear everything. And I mean everything.”
Sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other with our legs folded underneath us, we settle back with our mugs of coffee, and I begin to regale Becki with the highs and lows of my weekend adventure. Much to Becki’s frustration, I refuse to go into the more intimate details, glossing over them with vague replies of “it was good” or “very enjoyable.”
“So you love him, huh?” Becki asks, looking at me over the top of her mug.
Just the thought of Craig and how I feel about him sends a million butterflies soaring in my stomach. Gazing into my coffee as though I’ll see him there, I feel the wide grin spread across my face. I love Craig Silver… I am in love with Craig Silver. How the hell did that happen? Just a couple of weeks ago, I was living under the same roof as the man I’d always thought I would grow old and grey with, and now, here I am lusting over and seeing a future with a man I know very little about. But my heart wants what it wants, and that is Craig Silver.
“Okay, I can tell by the schoolgirl grin that that would be a yes,” Becki says, beaming over at me before her features sober and morph into concern. “You’re not rushing into this are you, Ambs? I mean, it’s only been two weeks since you finally cut Dickhead free. This isn’t some kind of rebound, is it?”
“No,” I practically scream at her. “You know it’s not. You know I tried to stay away from him. Why would you even think that?”
“Come on, Ambs. We all know what David did to you, and how that affected you. Craig is hot, he’s smart, and he’s wealthy-”
“What the fuck has that got to do with it?” Does she think I’m only after him because of his money? I couldn’t give a shit. She knows me better than that.
Ignoring my outburst, she continues, “He would be a catch for anyone, especially someone like you.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, he is the complete opposite of David. I know you, Ambs. You have so little self-esteem. I can see why you would want to cling to him to give you that boost.”
“That has nothing to do with it, and you know it. The simple fact is we met, we started getting to know each other, and I like what I’ve found, well for the most part, and yes I have fallen in love with him. It’s not a rebound. It’s not a confidence boost. It just is what it is.” I can’t believe she is saying all of this. Why can’t she just be happy for me and support me?
“Okay, so it’s not a rebound. I’m just worried about you, Ambs. You’ve been through so much, and do you know Craig? I mean really know him, warts and all, skeletons in the closet blah, blah, blah? You have said yourself, he is keeping things from you. Is that really any way to start off a new relationship?”
Is it? In an ideal world, no, it wouldn’t be, but we don’t live in an ideal world. We live in a world full of ups and down and twists and turns, famine, war, poverty. Nothing is safe or predictable, including the state of my heart. I guess what it boils down to is do I trust my heart and soul to Craig? Do I trust him? Yes, he is reserved when it comes to telling me certain things, but I don’t get the impression that he is hiding things from me that affect me. Unless he does something to change that, then yes, I do trust him, completely. I just want him to trust me enough to know he can tell me anything and I won’t judge.
“Maybe, maybe not, but I trust him. He makes me happy. I feel safe when I’m with him, and he makes me feel special and cherished. I’ve fallen in love with him, Bec. I can’t turn that off.”
“Okay, I won’t say another word. I’m happy that you are happy, and as long as he treats you right, then I don’t have a problem. Just take it slowly, okay? Please, please, please, proceed with caution. And I warn again, if he hurts you, I will have his balls for some horrific voodoo totem.”
Tears well in my eyes, and I have to blink several times to keep them at away. “Thanks, Bec,” I whisper.
Putting her mug down on the coffee table, Becki scrambles across the sofa and pulls me into a hug. “I love you, Ambs. You’re like a si
ster to me, and I only want what is best for you. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Tears now begin to fall freely down my cheeks, soaking into the cotton of Becki’s t-shirt.
After several minutes of embarrassing blubbering, the tears finally subside and I pull away from Becki with a small smile. “Thanks, Bec. I love you too. I couldn’t have gotten through everything without you.”
When I pick my coffee back up and pull it to my lips, I notice a rather exquisite bunch of flowers sitting on the corner table. “Wow, beautiful flowers, Bec. I take it things are going well with you and Scott?” Thinking of those two together brings another smile to my lips. It really has taken them forever to get here, and I’m so glad they have. They really do belong together.
She peers over at the flowers, and a frown mars her beautiful features.
“Everything is wonderful with Scott. I can’t believe we denied our feelings for so long, but those flowers are not from him, Ambs.” She keeps her gaze on the flowers, her eyes becoming dark and full of anger.
“Who are they from then? And why do you look like you want to rip someone apart?”
“David,” she seethes through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry?”
She inhales deeply and then exhales slowly through her nose. “David. The flowers came from David… for you. They came on Saturday morning. I was just going to throw them away, but I thought that was your decision to make.”
I turn my head to look at the flowers again, only this time they don’t look so pretty. Now they look like ugly creepers, or Venus fly traps, or something equally grotesque.
“Why? Why would he be sending me flowers?” I whisper. My hands begin to shake so violently I have to put my coffee down before I spill it everywhere.
“The dickhead thinks he can buy you off with a few crappy dandelions. What a prick.” The anger is rolling off her, and I should really try and calm her down before she really flies off into one, but I can’t take my eyes off the flowers. Memories of what he did to me last week come flooding back.
“Wh… what do you mean, buy me off?”
“He’s trying to apologise, wants to say sorry. Sorry for being a dickhead, sorry for being a prick, sorry for so very nearly… well, you know what. Sorry for being a cheat, sorry for being a scumbag, sorry for soiling the earth with his existence,” did she even come up for air then?
“Really? He said that?”
She glances over at me and rolls her eyes. “No. The card just said ‘sorry’. Fucking dickhead. He has also been calling. I had great pleasure in telling him just what he should do with his apologies, and that you were away on a cosy weekend sex fest with your new man. I haven’t heard from him since.”
What is wrong with him? Why can’t he leave me alone? He made his decisions in life; decisions we have all had the live the consequences of. I just want to put that all behind me and move on with my life now.
Deciding I can’t sit here and look at the weeds ruining the calm ambiance of my living room for another minute, I stand and walk over to the table. Looking down at the admittedly colourful blooms, I scrunch my nose at what they represent and grab them up. With a determination and steadiness I don’t really feel, I stomp into the kitchen and drop the whole thing into the bin. They can wither and die somewhere else, just like I wish David would. No, that’s not true. I don’t wish death on him, but I do wish he would leave me alone to get on with my new life.
“Bec, I’m going to unpack, and then I think I’ll have an early night,” I say over my shoulder as I head towards my bedroom, feeling suddenly exhausted, both mentally and physically.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
God, I’m bored. It’s eleven am Tuesday morning, and I have already done the marking I had to catch up on and cleaned the flat from top to bottom, not that it was dirty. Becki seems just as OCD about cleanliness as me. I’ve watched some mindless daytime trash on TV, and I am now sitting here looking at the screen on my ereader but not really reading. No, my mind keeps wandering off to Craig, thinking about what he’s doing, what he’s thinking. Is he thinking about me as much as I am thinking about him? We spoke briefly this morning. Having not slept very soundly alone in our respective beds, we were both up bright and early. We’ve texted each other a couple of times, flirting and joking, but here I am, bored, lonely and missing him.
Half an hour later, I am sitting on the tube heading into London, or more specifically into Hammersmith, to Craig’s offices. He doesn’t know I am coming, and I only hope he isn’t busy. I know he said he didn’t have any meetings until later this afternoon, but anything could have come up since we spoke this morning.
As the train pulls to a stop at the station and people file off, I begin to second guess my impulsiveness. What if he doesn’t want me here? There is only one way to tell. I follow the crowds through the station and leave through the Fulham Palace Road exit. Once out on the street, I pull up the navigation programme on my phone and type in the details of Craig’s offices. It’s only a ten minute walk, so I set off with the midday sun beaming down on me, warming me through and leaving me with a feeling of total serenity. How can my life have changed so drastically, for the better, in only two short weeks? I walk the short distance to Craig’s offices with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.
Craig’s offices are located in a fairly new building overlooking the River Thames. The building is a modern brick, glass and steel structure of five floors that somehow merges seamlessly with the surrounding Victorian houses and other buildings. Walking through the automatic glass sliding door, I am stunned by the elegance laid out before me. The main reception is bright with sandstone flooring, crisp white walls, an opaque glass reception desk, and white leather chairs scattered here and there. The starkness is warmed with the addition of red coffee tables, panels of red on carefully chosen walls, large potted plants, and black doors leading off to various offices and meeting rooms.
“Hi, I’m here to see Mr Silver at CAS Technologies,” I say to the young receptionist as I approach the desk.
“Can I take your name please?” She replies with a bored voice and a pop of the gum she is chewing. Nothing like a bit of professionalism, I think to myself.
“Amber Merchant.”
She looks me up and down, “Is he expecting you?”
I smile sweetly and reign in what I really want to tell her, “No, I thought I would come by and surprise him.”
“All visitors have to be approved first. I will just call up to his assistant and tell her you are here.” She’s looking at me now as though I don’t have a hope in hell of getting to see Craig. “Hi Margaret, its Jenny on reception. I have an Amber Merchant here to see Mr Silver.” She goes quiet for a moment, a smug look still on her face, and I begin to think I am going to be turned away. Perhaps I should have phoned Craig and told him what I was doing. Her face suddenly changes and her eyes widen and dart to mine. “Okay, yes, I will send her straight up.”
Jenny shoves a visitor’s book in front of me, “Apparently, you are to be allowed up whenever you come by. If you can just sign the visitor’s book and take this visitors badge.” I really hope she isn’t this rude to all visitors; it’s definitely not good for business. I sign the book and take the badge as she directs me to the lifts and up to the fourth floor where Margaret, Craig’s PA, will meet me.
“Thank you for your help, Jenny. It is most appreciated,” I say with a sweet voice laced with sarcasm.
I walk over to the lifts and press the call button and wait. I really hope I am doing the right thing here. It is lunchtime after all; perhaps we can get some lunch together somewhere. The ping announces the lift’s arrival and then the doors open, letting me into the fully mirrored box. Jeez, no room for being self-conscious in here. I press the button for Craig’s floor and take the opportunity to quickly check my appearance. I decided to dress smart-casual so pulled on my pale blue floaty skirt that sits just above the knee with a white camisole top and short w
hite denim jacket, and then paired it all with my comfy white ballet flats. I smooth down a few stray strands of hair and smile to myself, hoping that Craig will approve.
A robotic female voice announces my arrival on Craig’s floor, and my heart skips a beat, excited at the prospect of seeing Craig, but scared that he might be too busy and will not be able to see me. Taking a deep calming breath, I face the front as the lift doors open and then step out into the offices of CAS Technologies.
This place is huge. Even though I had done my research, I was still not expecting this. Sitting in front of me is another opaque glass reception desk with another young receptionist sitting talking on a headset. To my right is a clear glass wall that displays a large open plan office environment of desk cubicles with a few private offices around the edge. People seem to be working away at each desk, while others stand in the aisles talking.
To my left is white wall displaying pictures of the history of Information and Telecommunications. A large black door indicates the area beyond is the management suite and probably where Craig is sitting right now.
I am just preparing to introduce myself to the receptionist when the black door swings open and an elegant middle aged woman walks out. “Amber?” she asks as she heads over to me.
“Yes, that’s me,” I reply nervously.
She lets out a small laugh, and I look to her gentle, happy blue eyes as she reaches out to shake my hand. “Hi, Amber. I’m Margaret, Craig’s PA. He has spoken so fondly of you recently, I feel as though I already know you. He just mentioned this morning that if you ever popped by we should just let you up, and that if he was busy to get you to wait for him.”
Wow, he has been talking about me and has given me free reign to come by whenever I feel like it. If that doesn’t show a level of feeling from him, I don’t know what does.
Silver Lining Page 23
