by Sofia Grey
Speak of the devil… Adam strolled up to the long table, a scruffy-haired guy by his side.
“Is that Colin?” I asked.
“Yup.”
I watched, curious to see how Adam greeted Isobel. He slung a friendly arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek, while she blushed and smiled.
Meanwhile, Cherise got up and trotted to him. “Let me get you a drink.”
“No, thanks.” He turned back to Isobel.
“Maybe a lift home?” Cherise had no qualms about interrupting his conversation.
His face was thundery when he snapped a reply. “I’m not going that way.”
“Maybe a lift into town?”
“I’m busy, Cherise. Find someone else.”
Paula snorted into her drink. “See what I mean?”
I was seeing a lot of things, including Adam’s hand on Isobel’s ass. My mind spun. Isobel claimed to be friends with Marella, Adam’s girlfriend. Yeah, right. How big an idiot was I, for believing her?
“Please,” said the young temp. “I can be ready whenever you are. I need to talk to you.”
“Fuck off, Cherise.”
Her shocked gasp was audible at the other end of the table. A moment later, she threw the contents of her drink in his face. I watched in appalled fascination.
“I love you,” she shrieked. “Why do you treat me like dirt?”
Wow. This was better than TV. Every conversation stopped, and all eyes were on Adam, waiting for his response. He calmly wiped his face on the trailing edge of his shirt, and then glanced at Colin. “Take her home.” To my relief, he left a few minutes later, but Isobel disappeared at the same time.
17.2 Jordan
Somebody was operating a drill. Or maybe a hammer. No matter which way I turned, the noise didn’t stop. The banging was relentless, and somewhere in my brain, I recognized it. As I considered opening my eyes, the doorbell rang. Whoever wanted me, now had their finger on the bell.
“For fuck’s sake.” I tried to block out the noise with a pillow, but it was no use. I couldn’t smell smoke, so the apartment wasn’t on fire. I just had someone very persistent at the door.
Sitting up was a mistake. Separate hammers started work, beating out a new rhythm inside my head. All the while, the ringing continued. This was getting annoying.
“Jesus,” I muttered, as I lurched out of the bedroom. My eyelids felt glued together, and my stomach protested the rude awakening. Waves of nausea rose, as I stumbled toward the door.
How did they make it up to my apartment, anyway? That was what lobby security was for. To keep people out.
“Jordan.”
Marcus. I dragged back the bolt, turned the key, and scowled at my friend. “Where’s the fire? What’s so urgent you had to get me out of bed at this ungodly hour?” I squinted at my watch. The hands and numbers danced a little, then blurred, and I gave up. For some reason, I was already dressed.
“Ungodly hour? It’s ten-thirty.”
“It’s my day off.” I left Marcus to close the door, and set off for the kitchen. I needed to sit down.
“You don’t have a day off. Especially not when Thaddeus is in town.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” A thought struck me. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I tried.” Marcus’s voice was grim, as he surveyed the mess. “Your cellphone is switched off.” He bent over the pile of pizza boxes and empty Miller bottles, and fished out my phone. “Your cleaner is going to have a stroke when she sees this.”
“It’s what she’s paid for.” I found a semi-comfortable position at the kitchen table, with my head resting on my arms. The incessant pounding softened a little. I closed my eyes.
Small noises around me indicated Marcus was brewing coffee and tidying away the trash.
“Have some caffeine.” There was a gentle thump of a mug being placed on the table, and I acknowledged it with a grunt, reluctant to move.
“Where’d you go last night?” Marcus sat across the table from me, obviously expecting conversation.
I lifted my head and winced at the movement. “I went for a beer with Alain Demaine, from the Paris office. He wanted to go to a strip club.” I sipped the coffee. So far, so good. My stomach seemed quiet for the moment.
“Thaddeus is expecting you for lunch.”
“Fuck.” I didn’t want to see my father. Not today. I hadn’t talked to him since Kate left. The only person I’d talked to was Louisa, and that was in a weak and drunken moment. I wanted to put the whole Kate episode behind me. Pretend it never happened.
Like that was working so well.
“Cassie asked me to come round. She was worried. Thought you had an accident. I’d better update her.” Marcus called my office, asked her to delay lunch for as long as possible, and then turned his attention back to me. “You look like shit.”
“I’ve felt better.”
“Go shower. I’ll wait here.”
I shrugged and instantly regretted it. My head pounded again. I paused before speaking. “You go. I’ll come in as soon as I’m ready.”
“Nah, I’ll wait. I promised Cassie I’d deliver you to your office.”
“You’re not my keeper, Marcus. I’m perfectly capable.”
“Falling asleep—or passing out—fully dressed is capable? I bet you don’t even remember coming home last night.”
“That’s not true.” I felt deathly tired and not in the mood for an argument.
“How?”
“How what?”
“How did you get home?”
“Does it matter?” I wasn’t going to admit I had no idea.
Marcus sighed. “You have to get over her. It’s been weeks. You can’t go on like this.”
Four weeks and two days. “Who?” I feigned nonchalance. “If you mean Kate, she’s history. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about her.”
“I don’t believe that. If I’d lost my wife and unborn child, I’d be a mess too.” He wasn’t pulling any punches, and he wasn’t finished. “One way or another, you have to sort yourself out. Either forget her, or make it work.”
“Too late for that.” I rubbed my eyes and thought longingly about crawling back to bed. “Sophie told me she moved to Wales. And she wants no more contact. She’s filing for a divorce.”
“Fuck. So it’s over?”
“You got it in one.” I yawned. “I only knew her a couple months; I don’t know why I let her get to me.”
“I have a suggestion, and I think you should listen. I’m sick of staying in hotels, and Lou wants to come over while I build up the Europe operations. Why don’t we move in here, with you? There’s plenty of room.”
I sighed and managed to lift my head without flinching. “Nice try, Marcus. Like I said, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You need some help, and I’m your oldest friend. D’you think I’m gonna stand by and watch you drink yourself into an early grave? It doesn’t work like that.” I ignored him, but he didn’t take the hint. “Lou is worried sick about you. If she comes to stay for a few weeks and sees you’re okay, she’ll leave you alone.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Besides”—there was an apologetic smile—”she’s on her way over, whether you like it or not. She’ll be here tomorrow morning. And if you think I’m being a pain in the butt…”
The fuck? “Tomorrow?”
“Yup.”
“You planned this.”
Marcus shrugged. “I can’t control Louisa, as you well know. So I may as well move in too. Stop her from nagging you.”
“Jesus. I’ll have no peace. Marcus, you’re an interfering son of a bitch.”
He grinned and took my empty mug. “Go shower. I’ll wait here.”
I pushed the chair back, cringing at the noise. Marcus was right. I was a mess. My apartment was a mess. My fucking life was a mess. And still, the last thing I saw at night was Kate’s face.
17.3 Jenny
I went to grab a coffee and fo
und Marella in the queue. When she suggested we hang out for ten minutes, I couldn’t refuse. I liked my boss and had started thinking of her as a friend. God knew I didn’t have many left.
I realized she asked me a question. “Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”
“You seem distracted. Is anything the matter?” Marella was genuinely concerned.
“I was just thinking about a friend of mine. We fell out a while ago, and I miss her.” That was the understatement of the year. Without Kate, I felt abandoned, and I wondered how she must feel. Whatever went wrong with Jordan, it must have been catastrophic.
I had nobody to confide in. I didn’t dare talk to Cade, and I no longer trusted Isobel. Rob was acting stressy again, now the first month’s bills arrived, and I was exhausted, trying to placate him. Was this what my life had become?
Marella sighed over her coffee, and I studied her. Saw the little frown lines on her forehead and the shadows beneath her eyes. I wasn’t the only one not sleeping well.
“Is everything okay? I mean, I know you’re my boss and all, but if you want someone to talk to, I promise it’ll go no further,” I said.
To my horror, a single tear trickled down her cheek, and she hastily scrubbed it away. “Let me ask you a question, Jenny. Would you be upset if Rob was out chasing other women, while you were busy at work?”
“Rob wouldn’t.”
“Ah, that isn’t the point. How would you behave if he did?”
“I guess I’d be angry.”
“How much would you allow? Just looking? Chasing? A brief flirtation? A one-night stand?”
Oh, my God. She knew about Adam and Isobel. Or Adam and Cherise. Or any of the other girls he messed around with.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” I replied slowly. “Why do you ask?”
“Because it’s all very well to think you’ll behave a certain way, but when the time comes—boom. Principles fly out the window, and sometimes you realize how much you love someone. I mean really love them.” She swirled the foam on her latte. “It’s crucifying, to think your partner may have been unfaithful to you.”
“Adam?”
“Oh, Jenny.” She leaned toward me, and more tears shone in her eyes. “I need to tell someone, or I’ll go mad. I feel like I can trust you.”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
Marella tinkered with her cup again. “I think—I’m sure—Adam had an affair. There were too many signs. He’s done this before. Before we moved in together, that is. He promised it would never happen again, but I can’t be sure. Maybe I’m being paranoid. I can’t accuse him, in case I’m wrong. I have to believe he’s being honest with me. I have to trust him. I can’t marry him if he can’t be faithful, but I love him so much. Every time we’re apart, I feel suspicious of his every move, and I want to interrogate him. I try not to. He hates me asking what he’s been doing, but I’m so scared it may be true.” She slumped back in her seat.
Fuck. This was awful. What could I say? I tried to sound innocent. “Why do you think he’s having an affair?”
“Like I said, he’s done it before. We had an argument, and he went out with his mates. He came back the next morning and told me he slept with someone else, a girl from his office, but it was a mistake and would never happen again. He said it only happened because he was angry at my nagging.”
“That old tale. Because you upset him, he found someone else. That sucks.”
Marella hung her head. “He swore it was a one off. Said it made him see how much I meant to him. I believed him.”
“And then?”
She shrugged. “Last week, I was home late and found him on the phone. He didn’t hear me come in. He was promising to meet someone for lunch. As soon as he knew I was there, he ended the call.”
“Could it have been work related?”
“It might. But I can’t imagine him telling a client not to wear panties.”
If I admitted to knowing what a jerk he was, she’d want to know why I didn’t say anything sooner. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It sounds like a horrible position to be in. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She gave me a weak smile. “Sometimes I wish he could be more like your Rob. Now there’s a real gentleman. He’s always calling you, and taking you to lunch. So sweet.”
He did that so he could check on my movements every day. If I said I needed to work late, he called my desk phone, to make sure I was there. If I had an off-site meeting, he offered to drop me off and pick me up. It’d gone from sweet to claustrophobic, but if I said anything, he assumed I had something to hide.
At least he’d stopped talking about starting a family, for the moment. With the way our budget was stretched, we both needed to work.
Was I a bad wife for being relieved at that?
17.4 Jordan
For fuck’s sake. I grabbed the files from my desk and stormed out of the office. Cassie was on the phone when I marched up to her. She held up one finger, but I snatched the handset from her and slammed it onto the cradle.
“Jordan. That was—”
“They can wait. I’m supposed to see Peter Forster about the Devennick contract, so why the hell did you give me the paperwork for the Marshall takeover?” I tossed the offending papers on her desk.
Cassie flushed. This was the third time in as many days that she’d screwed up, and I wasn’t happy. She pursed her lips, reached for the desk diary, and laid it in front of me. “At eleven on Friday, you’re seeing Peter Forster about the Devennick contract. Today, Thursday, you have an appointment with Gary Fisher. To review the Marshall papers.” She glowered.
Christ. I rubbed a hand over my eyes. Not a good time to have a hangover. “Sorry, Cass. I thought it was Friday.”
“Wishful thinking. It’s only Thursday.” Even in my feeble state, I saw she was pissed. “Liz?” She beckoned to her assistant. “Can you please pop down to Reception and collect Mr. Fisher? Take him to the boardroom and tell him Jordan has been delayed, then fetch him coffee. Thanks.”
Liz scuttled away, and I tried to refocus my tired brain. “Okay. The boardroom.”
“I’m sorry, Jordan.” Cassie stood and closed the diary with a thump.
“It’s not your fault. You gave me the right papers.”
“Not that. I’m sorry to leave you at short notice, but I’ve had enough.”
Huh? I tried to speak, but she held up her hand. This time I stayed quiet.
“I take pride in my work, Jordan. Until recently, you’ve been a great boss, but now you’re impossible. You find fault with everything I do. Liz is terrified of you.” She softened her voice. “I know you’ve had a rough time the last couple of months, but it’s quite out of order to punish me for it. I quit. I’ll sort out the details with H.R.”
Her words cut through the fog in my head, sobering me faster than a triple espresso. “Cassie, please don’t go. You’re right. I’ve been distracted recently, but I need your help and support more than ever. If you need a break, fine. Take a holiday. Go home early. Whatever. But please don’t walk out on me.” I didn’t have to say like Kate, but we both knew that’s what I meant.
She frowned, and I sighed. Did I need to grovel? Maybe. “Please, Cass. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
She glanced down for a moment. “I’ll stay, but if you flare up again, that’s it. No third chances.” Her determined chin and the flash of her eyes reminded me fleetingly of Kate. She gave me a tentative smile. “You owe me a drink at least. Or dinner.”
At last. Something I could fix. “What are you doing after work?”
Cassie stared at me, her eyebrows shooting into her fringe. “You want to go out tonight?”
“Why not?”
“Okay.” This time I got a proper smile. “Now are you going to keep your appointment with Gary Fisher?”
“I’m on my way.”
* * * *
Cassie leaving would have been a disaster. I’d behaved badly, and
she’d made me wake up to it. I glanced at my watch, as I ploughed through a pile of reports. I promised her we’d finish at six-thirty, go for a drink, and then dinner somewhere.
In some respects, having Louisa and Marcus living with me was good. They were company. I could be myself and not feel obligated to entertain them, as I might with other visitors. Louisa nagged me to eat healthier food, cut down my drinking, and play squash with Marcus. They seemed to arrange it so I was rarely left alone, although I was at a loss as to what they thought I might do.
The downside was small, but bad enough. Watching them together made me envious, and I made sure they had some privacy. I made a point of working in my study until the early hours most nights. Usually with a whisky and music for company.
I’d started listening to the kind of music Kate liked. It was dumb, but it made me feel connected with her in some tiny way. She said one of her favorite albums was The Masterplan by Oasis, and I felt a momentary thrill when I found a copy in the CD player, obviously left behind by accident. It was now in danger of wearing out; I played it so often.
I didn’t have Kate’s new address or a contact number. She’d changed her number, as I found out when I tried to call her late one night.
I had to forget her and move on. It was just so damned hard. Tonight though, my evening plans included something other than listening to Oasis and thinking about Kate.
I stacked the paperwork neatly and went to find Cassie. “Ready?”
She looked up and smiled. She looked different somehow, and I tried not to stare. Her hair, usually tied back neatly, now fell to her shoulders in coppery waves. I’d swear she wasn’t wearing this clingy top this morning.
She was so easy to talk to. She kept the conversation flowing with ease and regaled me with amusing stories about the staff at TM-Tech. She seemed at ease, and for the first time in months, I relaxed. We shared a bottle of wine with dinner, and at some point the conversation moved to ten-pin bowling. Cassie used to belong to a ladies’ league and admitted she hadn’t bowled in years. I suggested we go bowling another night, and before I realized it, we’d made a date.
