The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights

by Sarah Lefebve

  He clears his throat. ‘I read your note once I’d calmed down and also spoke with the agency. They said you hadn’t made a complaint or anything.’

  ‘Why would I? And thanks for arranging for me to be paid. It helped.’

  He waves a hand in the air. ‘You earned it.’ He drags a hand through his hair as my face falls. ‘I meant for the PA work, nothing else.’ He swears under his breath. ‘Anyway, I spoke to HR last week and they confirmed the tribunal has been withdrawn.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ It feels like there’s a question behind his comment but I don’t know what he wants. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I get up and pace over to look out the window, hiding my face.

  The room’s quiet except for our breathing. Thankfully, all I can smell is the sweet vanilla candle on the windowsill. If I had to handle the sexiness of his scent again, I don’t think I could get through this conversation. I gaze at the regimentally positioned lamp posts and dark-brown leafless trees along the street, not really seeing them, then look to the sky. The clouds are grey, torrid rain is coming. Shivering, I wrap my arms tightly around my waist.

  ‘Charley?’ Alex prompts.

  As the sky outside darkens, I realise my face is reflected faintly in the window, so I concentrate on keeping my expression neutral, in case he can see it.

  ‘I know in Barcelona I didn’t let you explain the full extent of what happened but you were pretty adamant that you’d done nothing wrong, that it was all Tony. So why drop the claim if you think you’re the one in the right?’

  I spin around, smiling sadly. ‘I know I’m in the right, Alex, I don’t need a judge to tell me that. I realise that now. And I didn’t think I’d win, what with all the hotshot lawyers and things you said. Besides, I’d already decided to drop it over the course of the weekend. I’d had enough of it all. Remember what I said? Sometimes it’s knowing when to walk away.’

  He stares at me. ‘I hate to see you so … defeated, after how feisty you were that weekend.’

  I hitch my chin up, dropping my hands onto my hips as pride kicks in. ‘Don’t worry, Alex. I’m still that girl, and I’m not defeated. I’ll be okay.’ Saying it makes me feel it, and helps me believe it. ‘I’m just moving forward.’ I frown. ‘And honestly, I’m really confused at your reaction because now your company won’t have to go to tribunal. So you should be happy, right?’

  ‘Yes. But—’ He runs a hand over his stubbly jaw, making a delicious rasping sound. ‘I went to the casino yesterday.’

  ‘You did?’ Fear spikes. What else did Tony say about me? How much lower can Alex’s opinion get?

  ‘Tony wasn’t there, he was at a training course, but I spoke with a few members of staff in his absence.’ He pauses. ‘A croupier named Kitty was one of them.’

  ‘Really?’ Hope springs up. Kitty’s on my side. Not that Alex will automatically believe her, but still. ‘And what did she tell you?’

  ‘She’s in a difficult position, seeing as she now reports to him directly.’

  ‘Yes.’ Disappointment pulls my shoulders down. ‘She is.’

  There are footsteps, and warm fingers bring my chin up to look into his intense long-lashed eyes. ‘But she still stuck up for you. And once she knew who I was and I’d asked her to be absolutely honest … She really doesn’t like him, does she?’

  ‘No.’ I wrench my head away from his touch. It’s too tempting to want to get nearer. I want him too much.

  He frowns. ‘I got the impression hers is a widely held view.’

  ‘What do you want me to say, Alex? That I hate the guy? I do. I also hate that he’s there, when I’m not. And I can’t stand the thought of him drooling all over the female staff.’ I shudder. ‘But why are you going to believe anything I say? After all, I lied to you about my name, my job, my background.’ I throw the challenge down but he ignores it.

  ‘I looked over the results and accounts from the period you were manager. They were solid. Better than that. I read all the staff appraisals too. You got the best out of people, were well respected and everyone I spoke to yesterday liked you. They talked about your enthusiasm and the hours you put in.’ Looking thoughtful, ‘Your record was clean.’

  ‘Yes,’ I nod, a warm spot growing inside me. But somehow it makes what I’ve lost even worse. ‘Not that it made any difference at disciplinary.’

  He overlooks my tone. ‘It got me thinking. So this morning I reviewed all the documents that were considered at the hearing and the appeal.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘I did,’ he says solemnly. ‘Then I called the investigator and had a chat with him, followed by phoning the senior HR Manager and getting her to go into the office and pull some information together for me.’

  ‘On a Sunday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You are such a slave driver.’

  ‘Guilty.’ A hint of a smile turns up a corner of his mouth. ‘Though I did apologise for disturbing her roast lunch.’ He studies my face, ‘The thing is, I needed to know.’

  I want to ask why, but instead say, ‘And?’ biting my lip while I wait for his answer.

  ‘We found a file note of a call from a female casino manager having problems with a male assistant back in the summer. She wanted to discuss it anonymously and was given some advice.’

  I nod, ‘Me. My call.’

  ‘I gathered. Then it got more interesting. The HR Manager went through the confidential file notes of queries from female staff who’ve worked at the same places as Tony over the last couple of years.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘There’s an interesting trend.’

  Gulping, I step nearer to him. ‘Like what?’ I whisper.

  ‘I can’t tell you the details, but it’s enough that I think that Tony isn’t as innocent as he painted … and that the disciplinary panel might have got it wrong.’

  ‘You believe I’m telling the truth?’ I throw my hands out, hitting his flat stomach accidentally. He lets out a small oof. I didn’t realise I was so close. ‘Sorry. Why are you telling me this, Alex? Aren’t you afraid I’ll reinstate the tribunal, using this against you?’

  He catches my fluttering hands, holds them firmly between our bodies, then runs his finger along the inside of my wrist. I shiver. ‘And will you?’ he asks roughly, eyes raking my face. ‘Use it against me?’

  I look him head-on, doing my best to ignore the tingles zipping up my arms into other parts of my anatomy. ‘No. You’ll do the right thing if you find out it’s Tony who was lying.’ I take a deep breath, regret making my voice hoarse. ‘I was telling you the truth in Barcelona. I wasn’t on assignment looking for extra ammunition, I was just desperate for someone to listen. I also needed the money, and a current reference that doesn’t leave employers running for the hills.’ What a titanic fail that was. A bitter smile twists my mouth. ‘After I raised the claim, Tony spread rumours about me around the city, meaning I haven’t been able to get a decent job since the casino. And I still can’t. Which is why I’m leaving London.’

  ‘What?’ He drops my wrists, confusion racing over his face. ‘Why? You love the city.’

  It hurts he knows me so well. ‘I’ve got no choice. I’ve no job, and Jess and I can’t meet our mortgage payments on one income. My parents don’t have the money to help me. So I’m moving back home, going south for a while.’

  ‘But you can’t go.’ He looks upset, sagging onto the sofa.

  ‘Why not?’

  He runs a hand through his hair. ‘Because I need to know all the facts. So I can decide what to do.’

  ‘About what?’ Me? Us? Hope reignites and I hold my breath. He was horrid the day he found out about me, but it wasn’t unforgivable behaviour, not in context. It came from him being Mr Uber-cynical because of his past and the world he lives in, and from being livid. I wouldn’t fall into his arms if he asked me to. Not straight away. But I might give him, and us, a chance if he said he was sorry, and meant it.

  He goes still, expression dis
tant. ‘About your case. About Tony. If you’re telling the truth I have to do something about him.’

  ‘And what if you end up thinking I’m the liar after all?’

  ‘Then I can walk away with a clear conscience, knowing everyone’s been treated fairly.’

  ‘I see.’ This visit isn’t only about professional pride. He needs to know who’s being truthful. It’s about his principles, honour, doing what’s right. I fight the urge to rub my burning eyes. It’s not personal. It’s not about wanting to see me or missing me or to say he made a mistake in Barcelona when he forced me to leave.

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Charley.’

  ‘You haven’t.’ My laugh is hollow. ‘I’m just tired. Which is why I’ll tell you everything now – so you can make up your mind and then get on with your life.’ The thought causes a slow agony to creep along my nerve endings.

  ‘Good. I– Any chance of a coffee while I listen?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Bringing two cups of hot, strong liquid velvet in from the kitchen a few minutes later, I feel better. Making coffee has given me time to push away some of the turmoil. I need to be clear and concise and firm. Because I want him to believe me. God, do I want him to, so much.

  Settling across from him, my drink goes cold as I tell him everything. What happened, what I did, how I felt, what it cost me. It’s emotional and hard, and at times my voice shakes and I struggle to get the words out. My nose tingles with suppressed tears and I gulp back regret until it’s a sharp ache at the back of my throat. Alex sits and listens intently, eyes focused, occasionally sipping his coffee.

  ‘That last conversation with Tony you overheard in the suite,’ I say, almost finished, ‘was me trying to get him to back off. I was scared and I felt vulnerable. I also couldn’t let him walk away thinking he’d won. Again.’ Glancing up, I brush my fringe from my eyes. ‘But I promise completely and absolutely what I said wasn’t true. It wasn’t about the claim. The very last thing I expected was to sleep with you and when I did, it wasn’t to get anything from you. I was … caught up in it. Our chemistry took me totally by surprise.’

  ‘Yes,’ he admits quietly. ‘Me too.’

  His comment makes me brave. ‘Alex?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You didn’t have to come here.’ He raises his eyebrows quizzically and I go red. I haven’t blushed once since I last saw him, but here I go again. ‘I mean, you could have phoned. Was there a specific reason for seeing me?’ I try not to look hopeful, or like I’m asking for anything.

  He frowns, ‘I needed to see your face when you told me. To decide if you were sincere or not.’

  ‘Oh,’ I croak.

  Sharp disappointment pins me to my seat. I can’t move, something heavy settling behind my rib cage. It’s messy, it’s complicated and it’d probably never work out but I wanted to know if our heady time together in Barcelona was a one-off or something real. Not that it matters. I leave the city next weekend and I don’t think Alex is the type to have a long-distance relationship. And it’s coming through loud and clear that if he liked me in Barcelona, it’s not how he feels now. It’s too late. I blew it. And he did too, by not stopping to listen.

  Springing from the sofa, I swallow to get my voice working. ‘Well, now you’ve done that you can go.’ I need him gone. Before I embarrass myself. ‘Thanks for popping in.’ I fling open the lounge door and point down the hallway. ‘You must have loads of important things to do.’ Hint, hint get out.

  ‘I haven’t finished my coffee yet.’

  ‘I just remembered that I have somewhere to be,’ I blather wildly, checking my watch, ‘so if you don’t mind.’ I make a shooing motion.

  ‘I’m not a sheep, stop herding me,’ he mutters ruefully, but places his cup on the table and walks down the hall. ‘Still, I get the message. I’m going.’

  I open the door. ‘Sorry about the coffee.’

  He stops in the doorway and turns, searching for something in my expression. ‘I’ll go then.’

  ‘Yes,’ I nod, switching my attention to my scarlet toenails.

  ‘I’ll call you with my decision after I’ve spoken with Tony.’

  I want him to believe me without talking to bastard-face. I want him to look inside me and see I’m telling the truth. But why should he when, from the very first moment we met, I deceived him? When his last serious relationship taught him people use him for his status and wealth? I’m expecting too much. ‘There’s no need,’ I say brightly, fixing my gaze over his left shoulder. ‘Just pop it in the post in writing. Jess can forward it if necessary.’ I don’t want to see you or hear your voice again, it would be too much. ‘And if you find in the end you believe me,’ I gulp, ‘promise to deal with bast– Tony appropriately.’

  ‘I will.’ It sounds like a vow.

  ‘Good. Bye then.’

  His palm against the door stops it swinging shut.

  ‘Charley, I’d much prefer it if—’

  ‘Alex.’ I bite, and he freezes. ‘I appreciate you tracking me down to hear me out, but please go. Now.’

  ‘Just one thing,’ he says, holding the door against my attempts to push it closed.

  ‘What?’ I growl, exasperated.

  ‘I just wanted to say that,’ he rubs the back of his neck, ‘I wish things were different.’

  Staring into his lovely blue eyes: ‘Me too,’ I mutter. ‘Goodbye, Alex.’ As soon as he drops his hand, I swing the door shut with a resounding thud.

  There’s a long silence before I hear his footsteps walk away.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I slide slowly to the floor against the wall once he’s gone, staring at the carpet between the frayed cuffs of my jeans. Tears blur my vision and a ball of hurt unfurls in my chest. My head droops forward like a flower deprived of oxygen and light. The sorrow is raw and fresh, like a scab pulled off a healing wound.

  Alex is a good guy at heart, but damn him for coming here. For bringing everything back; what I did and what we might have been to each other if we’d met in another time and place. Big fat tears roll down my face and I wrap my arms round my upraised knees, holding myself together. I want to howl, but am afraid if I start I won’t be able to stop. So I sit there, and I realise it can’t be infatuation. Not if I’m this devastated. But I can’t let another guy wreck me like Tony did, though in polar opposite ways, one with sweetness and the other with darkness.

  ‘No. You’re moving on, remember? Get up, Charley. This second.’

  Pushing up from the floor, I breathe through my mouth so I don’t inhale his scent as I stride into the lounge. Bugger. He’s forgotten his coat. Oh well, he’s likely got hundreds of the things, he can buy another one easily enough. If not, I can parcel it up and ask Jess to drop it into head office. Folding it, I shove it into the hallway cupboard, out of sight, out of mind. If only I could do that with its owner.

  Returning to the lounge, I scoop our mugs up and put them in the sink, trying not to rub my thumb along the rim where Alex’s lips touched it, because that would be juvenile. I rush down the hallway to my bedroom to start boxing up more stuff. Keep moving, keep doing and you’ll be okay.

  Twenty minutes later the doorbell rings again. Leave me alone, I groan under my breath. I wait, hoping if I keep quiet they’ll go away.

  Another ring and then a sharp knock and then, ‘Charley, open up,’ Alex’s impatient voice orders. ‘I know you’re still in there. I’ve been outside for almost half an hour and you never left.’

  God, will this torture never end?

  ‘So you’re stalking me now?’ I walk into the hallway and call through the door. ‘What do you want? Have you come back for your coat?’

  A mutter of disbelief is swiftly followed by an odd laugh. ‘No. I didn’t even realise I’d left it.’

  ‘What then?’ I demand, wrenching open the door.

  ‘I’ve been sitting outside in the car thinking.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I can
’t leave it like this now I’ve seen you.’ He leans against the door frame as though it’s propping him up.

  ‘Leave what like what? You told me what your plan is, we agreed you can write with the outcome. It’s fine. Whatever you decide Alex, I’ll accept. I told you, I’m getting on with my life.’

  ‘Us. Leave us like this,’ he states softly, stepping forward and rubbing his thumb along my forehead. ‘Smudge of ink.’ He breathes when I raise questioning eyebrows. His eyes go hot and dark.

  I stumble back against the opposite wall. ‘There is no us. That was obvious when you sent me home so swiftly. And you were pretty clear earlier that you came here for professional reasons, not to see me because you wanted to.’

  ‘Then it was me who lied this time. I was scared. Am scared,’ he says boldly. ‘It would be a big risk for me to get involved.’

  What’s he saying? That he wants to be involved with me, or can’t be? I gulp, stupid hope fluttering in my stomach like a flock of birds launching into flight. ‘That’s right,’ I say softly. ‘Because everything I said today could be a lie. I could be exactly like Louise.’

  ‘But I don’t think it is, and I don’t think you are,’ he stuns me by admitting. ‘We shared something that weekend and you were honest and open, warm and unguarded with your opinions. You were concerned about me, you wanted to help. I don’t think you can fake that, even if there were things you weren’t telling me. More than that,’ his mouth spreads into the crooked smile I love so much, ‘I think you liked me, just for me.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘I know.’ Stepping over my threshold and closing the door with a quiet click: ‘Did you? Do you?’

  I tug the bottom of my top down, twist nervous fingers in it. He’s asking me to make the first move, roll the dice and see where it lands, but I’m not sure I can. ‘Even with your cynicism and your mistrust of female staff and your need to keep any relationship private because of Louise playing games and that I might be a liar … you still want to know the answer to that question?’