by Sofia Grey
Also, in case you missed it, Colin has been reallocating some of the accounts, and he’s given Avecon to Liane. She’s working on customer estimates, and I’ll make time to review those with her.
Hope you’re doing okay. Everyone sends best wishes.
Paula
* * * *
FROM: AdamJones
TO: KateArcher
SUBECT: Quality
I’m disappointed at the quality of some of the outgoing orders. Missing items. Lost opportunities for selling up. Multiple shipments. I’ve asked Colin to schedule a review of the past three months, and I’m expecting you to assist him. If your team are not up to scratch, I need to know.
Adam
10.4 Jordan
I sat on my sofa and contemplated the view from the window. Ten floors up meant I had a great view of the city, but in my head I saw something else. Kate’s face on Saturday, when I left her in Manchester. Huge brown eyes with violet shadows underneath. Vulnerable. Every protective instinct I possessed demanded I stay with her, but I figured she needed time to grieve.
That was something we had in common; we both grew up motherless. I’d be devastated if anything happened to Aunt Silvia, and I made a mental note to give her a call. It was ages since we last talked.
First on my list of calls was Kate. She answered on the second ring, sounding tired.
“Hey,” I said. “I just got in. How are you doing? How was your first day back at work?”
“I’m good. Thanks. We’ll be okay. I can’t thank you enough for everything; you know that.” There was a note of finality in her voice that I didn’t like. “I’m going through a bazillion emails at the moment, and it’ll probably take most of tomorrow before I’ve caught up,” she said.
“That bad? I know you were checking in on your phone. Didn’t you have anyone to cover for you?”
“Don’t you start. I’ve got Adam breathing down my neck, doing quality checks, and the new guy running an audit of the past three months.” She sighed. “My team’s good. They know what they’re doing, and most of the things Colin’s picking up aren’t errors, as such. It’s where the customer made a last minute change, or if we’ve had faulty stock. It’s so frustrating.”
“Sounds it.”
“And that’s why I have so many emails. Each time Colin finds something, he mails me about it. You know, rather than combining everything into a single document, like any sensible person would.” She clucked her tongue. “I shouldn’t be unloading onto you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just give me a free pass if I need to vent about work some time.”
“Of course.”
I wanted to lift her spirits. “Why don’t you take some time out tomorrow? Catch up with your friends?”
This drew a soft chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about Jenny’s crisis. It’s almost funny. Her husband is mad jealous of a guy she works with, and to stop him stressing, she told him he was my boyfriend.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“Ridiculously so. In other news, Isobel just got engaged to Greg. That was a surprise.”
“How so?”
“I didn’t think she was that in love with him. I must have been wrong.”
It was good how her mood lifted when she talked about things other than work. I let her voice wash over me, only speaking when I needed to.
“It amazes me how much cleaning you need to do, when you’ve been away for a few days. The milk had gone sour, and I found a bouquet of wilted flowers in the kitchen. The stems had gone slimy, so they went straight in the trash.”
I sat up straight. “That reminds me. Did you like the bracelet?”
“Bracelet?”
“It was with the flowers.” I felt embarrassed again, at what an asshole I’d been that day. I was glad Isaac retrieved the flowers from the gutter, where I’d tossed them.
“Of course. That bracelet. It’s lovely. Thank you so much,” she said. I opened my mouth to speak, but she carried on. “There’s someone at the door. I need to go. Call you back later.”
When she did, I’d remind her she was coming to visit next weekend. I’d book her flights now and mark them in my schedule. It was time she was pampered a little, and I knew just how I’d do it.
10.5 Jenny
I knocked on Kate’s door, hoping she was home. She didn’t reply to my texts, so it was possible she was working late. I wasn’t sure where else to go. To my eternal relief, I heard her voice call out, “Who is it?”
“Jen.”
“Come in. I’m in the kitchen.”
The first thing that hit me was the stench of rotting vegetables, mixed with sour milk and a dash of disgusting. I clamped a hand over my nose. “Kate? What is that stink?”
Next, I saw what she was doing. A wheeled trash can lay on its side, the contents spread across a plastic sheet on the kitchen floor. Kate crouched over the mess, wearing a garbage bag for an apron, and bright-pink rubber gloves.
The row with Rob forgotten for the moment, I crouched on the floor at Kate’s eye level. “Kate, sweetie, what are you doing?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve lost a bracelet. It’s got to be here, somewhere.” She explained Jordan bought it for her. When she came back from Bristol, she threw the wilted flowers in the trash, not thinking there might be something else with them. “I’m lucky the trash doesn’t get picked up until tomorrow.” She gave me a beseeching look. “Will you help me, please? I can’t do this outside, because it’s almost dark, and I need to sift through everything.”
I stared at the mountain of garbage. “Did you find the flowers?”
“Yes. They were near the top.” She gestured to the slimy stems. “No bracelet.” Her lip wobbled. “I told Jordan I love it. I can’t go back and tell him I lost it—never even saw it.”
“Did you ask Sophie? Or her boyfriend?”
“No. I just came off the phone with Jordan. They’re out tonight, catching up with friends.”
I found Kate’s phone and called Sophie. Under her direction, I looked on one of the kitchen shelves, and moments later found the most exquisite silver charm bracelet. “Could this be it?”
“Oh.” She widened her eyes, and a tentative smile appeared on her lips.
“Sophie said it was on the counter, next to the flowers Jordan brought.” I showed her the charms that sparkled under the bright kitchen lights. “It’s beautiful, unlike you at the moment. Let’s get this mess cleaned up, and you go shower, and then you can have it. Okay?”
An hour later, we settled down in her living room with a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn. Kate took a picture of the bracelet on her wrist and sent it to Jordan, with a message to explain I was visiting.
She started to pour me a glass of the wine, and then paused. “I should have asked first. Are you driving tonight?”
“No. I took the bus.”
“Well you can’t take the bus home. I’ll pay for a cab, unless you want Rob to pick you up? Either way, you’re safe to drink.”
“I can get a cab.” While I had some money left in my account. “Rob’s never been here. I don’t think he knows where you live.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” She took a slug of wine and leaned back against the sofa cushions. “God, I needed this. So what’s up? I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your text, but I was arm deep in garbage.”
“Yeah, I saw.” I fiddled with the stem of my glass, unsure where to begin. Rob’s furious face lit up in my head again, and I launched into the tale of the expensive house and the hotel conversion and what my dad had told me. “I told Rob we needed to understand more about the development before he signed the papers.”
Kate gazed at me. “He didn’t like that?”
“How did you guess? He was angry at me, for not trusting his judgement, and then at my parents, for not being more supportive. He thinks Dad is trying to split us up.” I hated the sympathy in Kate’s eyes. “And then, when I came home from work, it was all signed. He
’s taken a freaking huge loan and now owns ten percent of the house, but we’re effectively broke. The rent is higher than we’re paying at the moment, and it’s further from town, so it’ll be more expensive to get to work.”
“It’s all in his name?”
“Yes. It must be. I didn’t sign anything.”
“You’re annoyed he didn’t give you any choice?”
“And when I said I wasn’t happy, he threatened to leave and go live there alone. I don’t want to lose him, Kate. I love him.”
“So why aren’t you with him, celebrating your new home?”
Because he hurt me when he grabbed my arm. Because I could see the outline of his fingers in bruises. “I wanted to see if you were okay.” Because my dramas paled against a bereavement.
Chapter 11
11.1 Kate
If Jordan hadn’t booked my flights, I might have called off our weekend together. Work was beyond exhausting. Two people on my team succumbed to a stomach bug, and everyone was stretched. The Sales team brought in several new leads, we had customer accounts transferring up from the smaller branches, and two trainees were still feeling their way. I ended up taking calls between meetings, otherwise our response stats would have plummeted. And on top of this, Colin was examining every single order that had gone through the Call Center. In detail.
On Friday, I took a cab to Manchester Airport and caught the shuttle down to Heathrow. Jordan waited for me at the gate, and I stepped gratefully into his arms. He held me close, and then with his arm around my waist, led me out to his waiting car. This would be my first sight of his home, and I made an effort to cheer up.
He lived in a corporate apartment near Knightsbridge. A luxury, top-floor space that made my house look tiny.
“You could fit my entire downstairs into your kitchen.” I looked around in awe, and Jordan tried to put me at ease.
“As you can see, it lacks a woman’s touch.”
The kitchen was spotless and showy, with gleaming copper pans hanging from a rack and a huge wine rack stuffed with bottles. The living room was spacious, the only furniture a dark-brown leather sofa and armchair, an expensive rack of Hi-Fi equipment, and a flat-screen television. I perched on the edge of the sofa, feeling lost and rather uncomfortable. Was it a mistake coming? I was so stressed.
“I don’t spend much time here,” he said. “I host the occasional dinner, but that’s all. I usually eat out, rather than cooking.”
The master bedroom had an en-suite bathroom that made me envious. A huge corner bath dominated the room, with a walk-in shower in the opposite corner.
While I wandered around the apartment, looking out of windows and admiring the views of the city, Jordan disappeared. I heard water running. Curiosity got the better of me, and I found him in the bathroom, filling the tub.
“Are you having a bath?” I asked.
He flashed me a wicked smile. “Nope, we are. Hop in, I’ll be back in a minute.”
I shed my clothes in the bedroom and eased into the semi-sunken bath. The temperature was perfect. Jordan had added some foaming bath essence, and I inhaled the sweet perfume, drawing the scent into my lungs.
While I lay there, foam up to my throat, he dimmed the lights, lit some tealight candles on the windowsill, and brought me a glass of champagne. He stripped quickly and stepped in, to nestle behind me. Soft music played in the background, and I couldn’t help smiling. It was like a scene in a romance novel. If he’d wanted to make me relax, he couldn’t have done a better job.
This was just what I needed.
He cuddled me from behind and nuzzled my damp neck, while he used one hand to smooth the wet hair back from my face.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” I spoke softly “You’ve done so much for me, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Relax.” His reply was gentle. He lifted his hands to cup my breasts, brushing my nipples with his thumbs. “You’re as tightly wound as a spring. Let me untangle you.”
I was already squirming from the attention to my breasts, and when he laid a hot open kiss at the base of my neck, I moaned. His hard-on pressed against my butt, and I tried to turn around, to touch him, but he wouldn’t let me. Instead, he stroked and teased, and drove me to fever pitch. When he slipped a hand between my legs and found my clit, I thought I’d combust with excitement.
My tiredness forgotten, I lost myself in his touch, spiraling higher with each caress. I came hard, in a series of shudders, crying his name.
What was it about this man? Nobody had reduced me to such a helpless mass of nerve endings before. Nobody had made me come again and again, like Jordan did.
Still, he refused to let me play with him. Lying in the warm water, held in his strong arms, I felt safe. I felt wanted.
We stayed there until the bath water started to cool, and then Jordan encased me in a giant fluffy towel and led me into the kitchen. He guided me to the table, and pressed a glass of champagne into my hand. We ate a little supper, an assortment of cold meats and cheese with crusty French bread, and then went to bed.
When I fell asleep—the first deep sleep in the last two weeks—it was with his arms wrapped tightly around me.
Jordan was at his most charming and hospitable on Saturday, driving us into the countryside and delighting me with a picnic in a wicker basket. We sprawled on the grassy banks of a postcard-picture river and ate tiny salmon sandwiches and pieces of fruit cake, and enjoyed the sunshine. He told me about Houston, where his father ran TM-Tech from, and regaled me with amusing tales from his youth. He did his best to distract me, and it worked. I told him about Adam making a pest of himself, and Jordan laughed when I talked about the drink I’d knocked over my boss.
“You’ve given me an idea.” His arm supported my neck, as we lay on the grass. “I’d like to pour champagne over you and lick it off.” He trailed his fingers down my chest, brushed them over my stomach, and then paused. “Yes, I think that might be nice.”
I laughed. He made me feel so relaxed and so wanted, it made me uneasy. I was in danger of falling in love with him, and I needed a minute to process this.
I’d quickly become dependent on him in so many ways. We’d been together for just a few weeks. It was too intense, way too soon. Right now, I couldn’t cope with more emotions. Getting up in the morning and going to work took all the energy I had.
I was in no shape to be in a relationship. I had nothing to give. I was empty.
“Jordan…” I felt awkward. “What do you want from me?”
He propped himself on one elbow and blinked down at me, looking puzzled. “What a weird question.”
I sighed. Like Pandora’s box, some things were best left alone. “I don’t want to rush into anything. You know that. I like you—very much—but I’m not ready for anything more than this.” It sounded lame, and he seemed to consider how to reply.
“I guess I don’t want anything, Kate, other than what you want to give me.”
It was a vague answer, and I turned my head to the side, to watch the ducks splashing in the shallows. I had to make sure I didn’t get more involved with Jordan. He had the capacity to destroy me.
He dropped a delicate kiss on my shoulder. “What are you doing next weekend? I can come up to Manchester.”
I thought about it, and realized I was doing absolutely nothing. “I’m not sure,” I said. “I think I’ve got friends visiting, with their children.”
He shrugged. “Maybe the weekend after that? Isn’t that when your Gran’s will is being read?”
I calculated the date. “No, it’s the weekend after.”
“Well, since that’s gonna be in London, why don’t you stay with me? Bring Sophie and Isaac.”
I turned back to him, suddenly anxious. “I’d like that.” I pressed my face against his chest and listened to his steady, strong heartbeat. I’d been dangerously close to agreeing to see him next week, but now I had three weeks to fill, before I saw him again. Doubt rushed through my mi
nd. Was this really what I wanted?
11.2 Jordan
My phone rang, as I walked back into my apartment after dropping Kate at the airport. Pausing to toss my keys on the hall table, I grabbed my phone and answered without checking the caller ID. “Jordan Merrill.”
“Hey you. It’s me.” Louisa. “Are you busy?”
Since Kate left, the evening ahead was pretty empty. It was a few weeks since I talked with Louisa. She might take my mind off things.
“I’m getting a drink. Hold on a moment.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen and a cold beer. I snapped the bottle open and sat at the kitchen table. “So, what can I do for you?”
She laughed, a gentle sound I always associated with her. “How very English you’ve become. I wanted to see how you were. Marcus tells me you have a new girlfriend.”
I wondered how long it would take her to ask. “I met a nice girl. I feel awkward, calling her my girlfriend, though. It makes us sound sixteen.”
“Tcha.” It was a noise Louisa and her mother used to scold me. “You haven’t married her. Yet.”
She was fishing again. I drew on the cold beer, disappointed at the taste. In a rare bout of homesickness, I bought some bottles of Miller Draft, the first beer I ever drank. I didn’t remember it tasting watery, like this.
I was undecided whether or not to order pizza. Only a few weeks ago, I found a restaurant that made pizza like I had at home. Hearing Louisa’s lilting voice made me long for my home town. And a decent beer.
As she chattered on, seemingly happy with periodic grunts in reply, I examined the label of the Miller Draft beer. Brewed in the EU, under license. That explained a lot.
“Jordan.”
“I’m here.”
“If you’re too busy to talk right now…” She left the sentence unfinished, and I dragged my attention back to her.
“No, anything but. Kate stayed for the weekend, but I just dropped her off at the airport.”
