Better Together

by Annalisa Carr

  “It’s just an idea.” Tallulah didn’t want to explain her instinct. She was sure he’d sneer if she said the word intuition. “I’ll know in a couple of hours if there’s anything in it.

  “Fine.” He opened his own file.

  Tallulah leafed rapidly through her reports, checking the numbers of completed houses against the plans, the orders for materials against the bills and any discrepancies between projected and actual pricing. She made copious notes on her laptop.

  It was half past seven when she looked up again, rotating her stiff shoulders and stretching her arms above her head to relieve her aching back. She pushed herself to her feet and shook her body.

  Aiden stared at her. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Wiggle your hips like that.”

  She gave him a withering stare. “I think I’ve found something.”

  His eyes moved up to meet hers. “What?”

  “Come and see.” She moved her laptop so they could both see the screen. “Here, for example. In the construction report, forty-two kitchens were used. In the accounts, fifty were paid for. What happened to the eight extras?”

  Aiden checked the figures. “Maybe they passed them on to one of the other projects. Maybe it was a genuine mistake.”

  Tallulah shook her head. “It might be, but if you look at the bathrooms, there’s the same thing. And even bricks.”

  Aiden rubbed his eyes. “It does look suspicious. We should have a look at one of the other recent projects and see if there’s a real pattern.”

  “How do you think it happened? It must be someone senior. No one else could have signed off these amounts.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got an idea though.” Aiden frowned down at the laptop. “Do you want to get some food? We haven’t really got time to start on another project tonight, and I’m starving.”

  “Food?” Tallulah’s stomach growled, and her navel felt as though it had connected with her spinal column. She squashed the voice that told her she should avoid spending non-work time with him. The previous night had been fine, even if her sleep had been disturbed. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Indian?” Aiden wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “We deserve it.”

  She pulled back, and his arm fell away.

  “You do, at least,” he said.

  “You’re paying me to be a genius.” She couldn’t help smiling at him. “Okay. Indian sounds good.”

  He leant forward and dropped a brief kiss on her lips.

  “Stop it.” She pushed him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Her lips tingled.

  “Just saying thank you.” He took her arm and urged her towards the door. “Come on. I’m starving.”

  After a moment, she gave up and let him guide her along the pavement. It was eight o’clock, but the air in the street had barely cooled. Tallulah took a deep breath. “I wish it would rain.”

  “Let’s walk towards King’s Cross.” Aiden took her hand and walked faster. “You won’t have as far to go home then.”

  “It’s not that far from here,” she grumbled. She often walked farther. She tugged experimentally on her hand, but Aiden didn’t appear to notice.

  “You can get a cab,” Aiden said. “Or I’ll walk with you.”

  Tallulah shrugged. “Whatever you want.” The heat of the evening soaked into her skin, making her bones feel heavy and her body languid. She couldn’t be bothered to argue.

  Aiden laughed. “You must be hungry. I’ll remember that in future.”

  They picked an Indian vegetarian restaurant on a side-street off City Road, and after they’d eaten, Aiden leaned back in his chair. “Shall I ask them to call a taxi, or would you rather walk?”

  “I’d rather walk.” Tallulah leaned her elbows on the table, forgetting again that Aiden was her boss. “After all that food, I need some exercise. I’ll never sleep otherwise.”

  “I’ll walk with you.” Aiden stood up and sorted out the bill, while Tallulah waited at the door.

  At ten o’clock, the sky still had some light, and the air was inert and muggy. Aiden took her hand. She glanced down, uncomfortable at the intimacy, but more uncomfortable at the thought of making a fuss about it. Maybe this is the way he behaves with most women. Maybe he’s momentarily forgotten I’m his assistant and he’s being gallant. She was exquisitely aware of the warmth of his hand and the way his thumb rubbed the back of her hand as they walked.

  King’s Cross loomed ahead of them, and next to it, the Victorian Gothic splendour of the St Pancras Hotel stood out against the darkening blue of the sky.

  “Do you want a drink?” Aiden swung Tallulah’s hand. “Before I start walking back? I’ve always wanted to go inside.” He pointed at the hotel. “Don’t you think it’s a brilliant building?”

  Tallulah looked up at the ornate red brick tower. It was a familiar presence, so familiar she took it for granted; an iconic building, but it had never occurred to her to walk through the doors. It was a building for the rich.

  “Well?”

  “Okay.” She didn’t want the evening to end.

  They walked past the doorman in his impressive livery and into the bar, where a waitress in a black and white dress showed them to a small round table and handed them a sheaf of menus. Separate booklets for wine, soft drinks, and cocktails.

  Tallulah flicked through the cocktail menu. “Have you seen the price of these?”

  Aiden didn’t bother looking. “It’s only once. I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’ll pay.”

  Tallulah opened the wine list. The prices were equally outrageous.

  “I’m going to have a cocktail,” Aiden said. He hadn’t even looked at the list. “An espresso martini, I think. What about you?”

  “Isn’t that a bit girly?”

  “I prefer to think of it as following in the footsteps of James Bond,” he said. “Come on, Tallulah. Make your mind up.”

  Tallulah sighed. It wasn’t her money. “I’ll have a lemon martini.”

  While he ordered, Tallulah inspected her surroundings. The room was big, with high ceilings, chandeliers at the top, and a smooth red carpet underfoot. The other drinkers looked as though they were customers at the hotel. The women were all thin, perfectly made up, and beautifully dressed, while the men carried auras of wealth and confidence. It wasn’t the sort of place you’d walk into by accident, for a casual drink. Tallulah wasn’t sure she liked it.

  “What are you thinking about?” Aiden’s voice interrupted her musings.

  “Just how different this is from my usual hangouts.”

  “In what way?”

  “It’s too homogeneous,” Tallulah said. “There isn’t much sense of energy. It’s a bit boring.”

  “Depends who you’re with,” Aiden said. “I’m not bored.”

  “I’m not bored either. I meant the general ambience.”

  “Long words,” Aiden said. “Hopefully the drinks will compensate. Here they come.”

  The waitress arrived carrying a tray of drinks. She placed two conical glasses on the table and added a bowl of olives. “Enjoy.”

  Tallulah picked up her drink and took a tiny sip. It was delicious, the sharp citrusy taste dominating the sweetness. She licked the flavour from her lips.

  “Good?”

  “The problem with cocktails,” she said, “is that one’s never enough. You always want another.”

  “That can be arranged.” Aiden eyed her almost-full glass.

  “And then another,” she said. “And then you’re sorry. And the next day you’re even sorrier.” She took another tiny sip.

  “Sounds like you’ve been there.” He picked up his own drink.

  “Yeah,” Tallulah
said. “I’m a quick learner.”

  “You live close to here?”

  “Ten minutes away.”

  “Nice.” He finished his drink. “Do you want another?”

  Tallulah looked longingly at her empty glass. Heat was pooling in her body; she couldn’t decide if it was the drink, the warm evening, or a raging case of lust. “I’d better not. It’s a work day tomorrow.” She’d indulged herself enough. Aiden was far too easy to talk to, and she’d chatted away in a completely uncharacteristic manner. Now she wanted to touch him.

  “Come on, then.” He stood up and, offering a hand, pulled her to her feet.

  They walked slowly along Euston Road, past the station, and crossed at the traffic lights to Pentonville Road. When Tallulah turned down the narrow street she lived on, Aiden paused. “Do you normally walk home alone?”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him. “It’s pretty busy round here, and I’ve never had a problem. It’s perfectly safe.”

  Aiden inspected the dim streetlight before returning his attention to her. “It’s not a residential street, is it?”

  Tallulah tugged him forward. “No.” She pointed at a substantial Victorian building. It had an arched metal sign above the door, with ‘The Old Fire Station’ painted on it in white.

  “You live in a fire station?”

  “It was an arts centre for ages,” she said. “It closed down a couple of years ago, and it’s up for development now.”

  “You squat?” His voice was blank, and she couldn’t tell whether he approved or not.

  “Of course not. There’s no security in that. I’m a guardian.”

  “A guardian? Of what?”

  “The building. The company who own it have a few spread across London, waiting to be redeveloped. They don’t like to leave them empty, so they put in just enough facilities to make them liveable and let out rooms for a token rent. I’ve done this all over London, and it’s a great way to find a cheap place to live.”

  Aiden raised his brows as though he’d never heard of such a thing. “Can I come in?”

  Tallulah shook her head hurriedly. “My brother’s sleeping on the couch. It’s late, and I don’t want to disturb him.”

  “The same brother who works for Marlowe’s?”

  “Kyle.”

  “Okay.” Aiden took her arm and pulled her to face him. “Thanks for staying late tonight. You’ve been a great help.”

  Tallulah opened her mouth to tell him it was her job, and he kissed her. His lips were warm and firm, and she relaxed, breathing in the scent of him. Without taking his mouth from hers, he clasped her waist and lifted her to stand on the step above his. His mouth opened on hers, and he stroked one hand down her hip. She kissed him back, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, holding his head in position, while he took her lower lip between his teeth and his hand drifted to her waist. Her head spun, and all the heat in her body moved between her thighs. She slid her hands down to cling to his shoulders. What am I doing? A note of alarm sounded in her head, as his fingers tightened on her waist. I work for him.

  She pulled away. “Stop it. You’re my boss.” That wasn’t just a thank-you kiss.

  He released her. “Is that what I am?”

  “Sneaky is what you are.”

  He stood on the bottom step as she spun round and ran up the steps to the door. “Night, Tinkerbelle.”

  His eyes burned a hole in her back until the door slammed closed behind her. She leaned back against it, gathering her composure. Why did I let him do that? Let him? I encouraged him.

  It must have been the martini, but she asked herself why she’d gone for a drink with him in the first place. It was one of her rules, along with her determination to be completely professional—don’t get involved with anyone from work. Now she had to work with him for at least another month, and she wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering that kiss.

  She trudged up the stairs, speculating over whether she could break her rules for once. It was only for a month. She’d finish her contract, and he’d go back to New York. Could it work?

  Chapter 14

  Tallulah crept quietly into the flat, making an effort to be silent, so as not to wake Kyle, but the sofa was unoccupied. She glanced at her watch again, wondering if she’d mistaken the time, but it was definitely after eleven.

  Where is he?

  He hadn’t been home the night before either, and she hadn’t seen him before she went to bed. He hadn’t been there in the morning, and she didn’t believe he’d already left for work. It was a work night, and he wasn’t eighteen yet.

  She cleaned her teeth and went to bed, convinced she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but the last thing she remembered was the feel of Aiden’s lips against hers.

  At six-thirty in the morning, she woke and rushed out into the main room to check on her brother. He wasn’t there. She chewed the end of her finger and picked up her towel and washbag before heading for the shower.

  Maybe we can have lunch together . . . if he’s at work. Surely if he hasn’t been turning up, Human Resources would have told me.

  She dressed in her batik dress and multi-coloured sandals and headed to the bus stop, arriving at work just before eight. Before going to her office, she ran down to the basement post room, but the door was still locked.

  Aiden walked through the main entrance as she headed back to the foyer, and her heart immediately picked up pace. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but when they reached his offices, he trailed one finger along her bare arm. She met his eyes.

  “I enjoyed last night.” He took out his key card, still holding her gaze.

  Tallulah chewed on her lower lip, unable to look away. “It’s not professional. I have rules.”

  “Rules?”

  “No mixing business with pleasure. No getting involved with people at work.” She didn’t add that she had no desire to get involved with anyone at all. Not for a while.

  “Rules are there to be broken.”

  “You’re not my type.” She couldn’t remember what her type was.

  “And you’re definitely not my type,” he said. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. Why don’t we just break a few rules and see what happens.” He ran his thumb down her cheek and pushed open the door.

  Tallulah wavered. “Not at work.”

  “Fine.” Aiden’s smile was laced with triumph. “We’ll see where we go, outside work.”

  She tossed her bag onto her chair.

  “Can you pull the details of that small development we completed last year,” he asked. “I think it was the one near Brentwood. We’ll look at them tonight if you’ve got time.”

  Tallulah nodded. “I can do that.”

  He gave her a slow smile that heated her blood before going into his own office. She took a deep breath and started the coffee.

  The morning passed slowly while Tallulah’s mind veered between worry about Kyle and worry about her own behaviour. She knew she was overreacting about her brother and forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing. Kyle was seventeen; he could have stayed with friends, met a girl, anything. He was used to being independent. He could have called. It’s just a matter of common courtesy. How am I to know he hasn’t met a serial killer? She wanted to bang her head on the desk.

  At a quarter to twelve, her phone rang.

  It was reception. “We have a visitor for Mr Marlowe.”

  Tallulah glanced at the diary. There was nothing in it. “I’ll check. Who shall I say?”

  “Sasha Dooley.”

  Tallulah knocked on Aiden’s door. “Someone’s in reception to see you. Shall I tell them to send her up?”

  Aiden frowned. “Who is it?”

  “Her name’s Sasha Dooley.”
<
br />   “Shit.” He stood up and walked to the window. “I don’t . . . I suppose you’d better.”

  Tallulah looked at him, surprised, but he was still staring out of the window, so she returned to her phone. “I’ll come and get her.”

  The woman waiting in reception was glossy and perfectly groomed. It was impossible to tell how old she was. The receptionist nodded towards her. “That’s your visitor.”

  She rose to her feet as Tallulah walked towards her. Her silky chestnut hair was cut to curve beneath her chin, her eyes were subtly made up, and her eyelashes had to be false; no-one had real lashes that long and curly. She wore a black suit that emphasized her curves, and when she stood up, her heels gave her at least eight inches on Tallulah.

  “Sasha Dooley?”

  “Yes. And you are?”

  “I’m Tallulah Becks, Mr Marlowe’s assistant.”

  Sasha Dooley made a bad job of hiding her disbelief as she examined Tallulah. “Nice dress” was all she said.

  “Mr Marlowe’s office is on the seventh floor.” Tallulah led her towards the lifts and pressed the button as they stepped in.

  In the office, she tapped on Aiden’s door. “Your visitor’s here.”

  As soon as she opened the door, Sasha rushed through as fast as a woman with five-inch heels on her feet could manage. Tallulah lingered long enough to see her throw her arms round Aiden and pull his head down to kiss him.

  She closed the door behind her with an assertive click and sank down behind her desk. She remembered the name Sasha. Isn’t that his fiancée? Or ex-fiancée? She didn’t look very ‘ex’ to Tallulah, and she wondered why Aiden was kissing her if he still had a fiancée. Their kiss had been more than friendly.

  And what was he suggesting this morning? It was all very well to talk about breaking a few rules, but which ones?

  She knew she should have kept her distance. Turning the facts over in her mind, she told herself that it didn’t do to jump to conclusions and, just because Sasha Dooley made her feel like an alley cat in the presence of a sleek Siamese, didn’t mean she had to feel inferior. She wasn’t; she was as good as anyone else. Maybe he’s bored. Maybe he’s playing with me to pass the time. She knew Aiden didn’t like the work but was stuck with it until his father recovered.