Maybe whoever sent the message to Katherine was not about him at all, but about her. Perhaps it had something to do with Jonathan who had made a rather unexpected call when she was at the apartment.
But if she hadn't told anyone, as she claimed, how would anyone know? Her husband was an advertising executive, not the obvious type to arrange the bugging of an apartment in order to check on his wife's fidelity. And, besides, Katherine had given him the impression that far from being the jealous type, he was not even the caring type.
In between working on the theories, he once again thought of Alex. It would be past midnight in London and he didn't want to spook her with a text message. He did, though, make up his mind that he would try to see her as soon as possible when he got home.
Katherine, who had become his lover for a night and very nearly more nights, seemed suspicious of him and and that they had climaxed together now seemed far less special as a bond between them than it did at the time, certainly for him and presumably for her as well.
He still went back to join her at their original seats. "Katherine, I just don't know – it doesn't make any sense. First, if neither of us have told anyone and we were alone in the flat, then either the place is bugged or the cleaner has done some DNA analysis of the sheets."
"Don't we check everywhere for eavesdropping stuff?" she asked.
"Not the flat, I don't do business there, either in person or on the phone. As you know, it's just a place to sleep on our trips over there, up until this time in separate rooms."
"Elroy?"
"No Kath, I piss him off not because I make him follow me for hours on end, but because I tell him to take the day off. He likes a laugh and is actually a very smart guy. Too smart to try to make a bit of money out of the boss bedding...sorry, wrong expression...making love...or, let's say, enjoying sex with his PA."
He paused. "I think we both agree that 'enjoying sex' is the most accurate account of what went on between us."
"I guess," she replied quietly, caressing the top of her wine glass with her fingers.
"Have you been in touch with Alex?" she asked tentatively without glancing up.
"Just the once since we've been here, by text, to thank her for lunch and everything. She, or rather her company seems to be doing a good job."
"They do," agreed Katherine, finally looking at him.
"Are you OK? " he asked.
"I think so. Just that I feel a bit betrayed."
"Not by me I hope," he said.
She leant her chin on the top of her fingers and looked at him in the eyes. "But who else, Nick?"
He took it that she was wondering rather than accusing, and for the rest of the flight both of them mostly avoided the subject, although he promised he'd get the apartment checked out and talk to Elroy about who might have been there in the days preceding their arrival.
By the time the jet was landing at London Luton, thirty miles north of the city, Alex was awake and slumbering in her bed listening to news radio and checking email on her mobile. She had a lot of work to do later in the day writing sales talk with Kerry for prospective new clients. But she allowed herself an extra half an hour lie-in before she threw off the duvet, put on a shirt, and went to the kitchen to make coffee.
Outside, the sound of cars, buses and tube trains grew louder as London started a new day, and she was soon among the bustling horde struggling for space on the cramped trains. She was surprised that on the journey to find herself repeatedly thinking this was the day that Nick Hensen was due back from New York.
At the airport earlier, Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs had been very relaxed about a private jet from New York, especially at that time in the morning, and nodded the passengers through.
Their luggage followed without any checks and all the cheesecakes made it into one of the Hensen company's cars for delivery to his apartment, along with his other belongings.
Another car waited for Katherine to drive her to her home in Islington, north London.
As she was loading a case into the boot, Nick approached her. "Eventful few days."
She smiled perhaps for the first time since they'd left New York. "You are right there."
"Katherine, I didn't have anything to do with that text message and I promise you that I didn't tell a soul about us. You must believe that."
"I'm going to sleep for the rest of the day. I'll see you tomorrow in the office."
"Sure," he replied neutrally before smiling at her and walking to his own car.
On the way to London, he called Tavis, unconcerned about waking him.
"Mr Hensen, how are you and how was your trip?"
"I'm good, thanks. And the trip was good, although there is something that I want you to look into."
"And what would that be?"
"I think the apartment in New York might be wired."
Keeping everything as vague as he could, he explained that he had said something in the apartment - to the only other person who was there - that had now seemingly become the knowledge of a third party.
"Can you be more specific?" Tavis asked.
"It doesn't really matter." Nick replied. "All I want you to do is to get everything checked. Check the apartment, check Elroy and check anything that might have enabled this third party to learn of something that only myself and the person I was with should know about."
"You didn't go with a prostitute, did you?"
"Of course not. I just said something that seems to have become the knowledge of someone who wasn't there."
"What was it, business?" Tavis asked.
"Sort of," said Nick.
"And how do you know this person who wasn't there knows what you said?"
"He or she sent me a text message," he said, distorting the truth.
Tavis suggested they meet up later that day to discuss in more detail the events of Nick's business trip and precisely what was expected of him in unravelling the circumstances of the suspected security lapse.
"Tavis, I'm absolutely exhausted. I need to sleep. I'll call you later, but if you can arrange a thorough search to see whether there is anything untoward there then I'd appreciate it."
After being told that Katherine was also taking the day off, Tavis said he'd bring in an outside company and call Nick with the results when they were available.
"Thanks, keep it quiet with anyone who works for us, at least as far as you can, and we'll talk tomorrow."
Back at his flat, Nick showered and lay on the bed in a towel. He was ready for sleep but then remembered the boxes from Katz's deli and went to rescue them from the considerable amount of luggage left in his hallway. Once he'd put the them in the fridge, he went back to sort out the jet lag.
By early afternoon, having slept for four hours, he embarked on the final stage of Mission Cheesecake. With Katherine unavailable, he called her assistant to find out Alex's office address and then a cab company to take him from Park Lane to Stratford.
The journey took no more than thirty minutes, and he was left outside a dull 60's-style office block that was the home of his new contractor. On the intercom, he announced that he had a delivery for Alex Anderson and after being buzzed in took a flight of stairs to the office that bore the name.
Suzanne opened the door.
"Hi, delivery for Alex Anderson. Is she here?" Nick asked.
"Yes, come in.
"Alex, delivery for you," she shouted across the office as Nick entered with the box of cheesecake in hand.
Alex turned around from her computer to see him smiling at her. She felt herself blushing.
"Hi, Nick, what are you doing here...how are you?" she said trying to compose herself.
"Very well, thanks, here, as promised, is one blueberry cheesecake from Katz's, New York City.
"It has been personally collected and delivered by myself, and I hope you enjoy it."
Adrian looked on, but couldn't hear what was being said. Kerry recognised Nick from his internet picture, but Suzanne s
at back in her chair, wondering who the expensively-dressed delivery boy was.
Alex laughed and held her hands against her face to hide her flushed cheeks. "Nick I was just joking...but thank you...thank you very much."
He was prepared for the awkward silence. "And if you are not too busy I'd like to take you for a coffee or a glass of wine so that we can discuss our contract and, err, the merits of blueberry cheesecake. Err, really, I just wanted to check up on you guys and talk about some new business I've got in mind for you." What that new business was he didn't actually know but he was thinking on his feet.
"Sure," she said.
"Great, can I meet the rest of the gang first?"
She introduced him to Suzanne and Kerry and then Adrian, whose T-shirt today read "Please don't confuse me with someone who gives a shit".
Alex squirmed as she saw Nick reading the words.
"Liking the T-shirt," he said to Adrian, shaking his hand.
"Perhaps not appropriate when we have a client turning up," Adrian replied. "Not that we have many clients venturing to this part of London."
"Well, I hear you are quite nifty with computers, and your work for us so far has been impressive, so I really wouldn't care if you came to work in a onesie."
"That will never happen," Adrian laughed.
"Damn right it won't," Alex chipped in.
She put the cheesecake in the fridge, where it was accompanied only by the milk they kept there for coffee. "It's survived New York to London, I'm sure it'll be good for a couple of hours more," she called across the office.
"OK, drink?" she said to Nick, still rather embarrassed by his visit and what Kerry, Suzanne and Adrian would be gossiping as soon as they left.
"There's not much round here. There's a wine bar a couple of minutes away but don't expect The Langham or anything," she said as they waited for the lift.
"I can slum it with the best of them," he smiled.
In the bar, they ordered a bottle of dry white and sat opposite each other at a corner table. Their presence doubled the number of customers at the less than salubrious venue.
"Hardly all the rage, is it?" he remarked.
"Well, I did warn you."
"When I first came to London, and asked an agent to find me an office within my price range he suggested Stratford.
"Me, being American, thought he was talking about Stratford-Upon-Avon, like where Shakespeare lived? I asked him how far it was from London and he said that it was in London, on the central line."
"That's funny," he said.
"So how was New York?"
"Oh, just the usual stuff, humouring the investors and a few boring meetings."
"And when did you get back?"
"This morning."
"And you brought my cheesecake this afternoon. I feel very honoured."
He told her how Katherine had found out that cheesecake, being a dairy product, was not allowed to be imported into the UK from a non-EU country. And how he had bought six and spread them throughout his luggage to increase the chance of one of them making it through.
"You are a banker and a cheesecake smuggler. I don't know which might carry the greatest prison sentence," she smiled.
"Oh cheesecake smuggling is a heinous crime, probably life for that alone."
They continued talking about his New York trip. He told her of his and Katherine's visit to Coney Island while making it sound as they were just colleagues killing time between meetings. Alex listened while more certain than ever that she was being pursued by one of England's most eligible bachelors.
That feeling was soon as good as confirmed.
"Listen, Alex, there is going to be more work for your company, but the reason I'm here today – and now I'm being totally honest – is that I like you and wanted to bring you your gift from New York, even though it wasn't from Tiffany's, and, well, just to see you again."
"Wow," said Alex, gathering her thoughts. "I'm very flattered. And the present was very sweet, no pun intended."
"Oh and I have five blueberry cheesecakes back in my fridge at home, so just call when you need new supplies.
"Once, they've gone You'll have to fly over to New York every other day."
They were relaxed in each other's company but Alex knew they lived in different worlds and in the back of her mind were the text messages. Also, the thought that she preferred the local pub to a fancy London restaurant and, most crucially, that she had vowed never to fall in love again.
As they left the bar - her to go back to the office and him back to the glamour world of the ultra rich - Alex had decided this was a relationship she would kill before it started.
Chapter thirteen: Breakfast at Frank's.
When she returned to the office, Alex caught Kerry, Suzanne and Adrian locked in conversation, the topic of which was not hard to guess.
“OK, everyone, it was just cheesecake. Please behave.”
The three of them made a poor attempt not to snicker.
“I'll fire the fucking lot of you,” she remonstrated.
“Kerry, conference, please, store room.”
Among the boxes of paper, printer ink and Adrian's disused computer paraphernalia, Alex told Kerry of her meeting. “He likes me,” she declared.
“And what's not to like back?” Kerry asked. “He is a good-looking guy, obviously romantic and, err, filthy rich. If someone had brought me cheesecake all the way from New York I'd marry him tomorrow,” she added, before catching the sudden change in her friend's expression.
“You know I don't do relationships...of the serious type...with men,” said Alex, visibly confused, and now apparently close to tears.
Kerry gave her an affectionate hug to try to rescue things. “Do you not think that in this case you should make an exception, babe? He does seem a really nice guy. Just take it easy.”
“And the texts. What are they all about?”
Kerry looked at her, unable to offer an explanation. “If you want me to come over again...”
“No, I'm fine, just feel like an agoraphobic who needs to walk across a big open field.”
“Hey, you said 'needs to' and you know you do.”
Nick had been forward enough at their meeting earlier that, on arriving home, Alex expected him to call that evening. If he did, she had already decided that she would not answer, to allow herself thinking time. But it was not until the following Monday afternoon that his name flashed up on her mobile. She still hadn't had enough time to work things out but these were office hours and he was a client.
“Hi Nick, how's it going?”
“Good, thanks Alex.”
“Problem?”
“No, nothing, reports coming through fine, and being very useful to us. Adrian sure knows how to scrape the internet.”
“Don't tell him or he'll be asking for a pay rise.”
“Well someone has got to keep T-shirt printers in business,” he quipped.
“I guess so,” she laughed.
“And you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you...good weekend and all that stuff. Eat the cheesecake yet?”
“I did eat the cheesecake – well at least what the others had left me - and it was fantastic, made me sort of think of flying over to collect some more.”
“I've got more in my fridge so any time you want to come over,” he said, and then grimaced at his remark.
Alex, of course, saw this as a thinly-disguised invitation to his apartment and decided to back track on the conversation. “I'll bear that in mind, thanks.” And then, rather too quickly, added, “So what can I do for you?”
“I just wondered if we could meet up in the week and maybe do a bit of socialising, like non-business stuff in town.”
This was Alex's chance to kill the serpent before it left the egg.
“Nick, I think we move in different circles. I like greasy-spoon cafés, fish and chip shops and curry houses. You are smart hotels and restaurants, fancy cars and penthouses.”<
br />
Tentatively, and screwing her face as she tried to be delicate, she added: “I just think we best keep everything just on a business, rather than social, footing because, she went on, thinking that she didn't want to lose her contract, “that's where everything seems so...err...uncomplicated and easy.”
“So what time shall we meet tomorrow?” he ignored her.
She couldn't help but smile.
“Mr Hensen, I don't do all those fancy things that you do. Since I moved to London, all I've wanted is a simple life, to just be normal. You are not normal,”
“Thanks,” he replied.
“Not normal in that you earn vast amounts of cash and live in a totally different world to the one I live in.” She then thought about adding, “and the one I'd want to live in,” but decided that would not only be rude but overly presumptuous, even though she was now certain that he was pursuing her either romantically or sexually.
“I'll get a car to pick you up at eight. We can have a breakfast meeting and then you can totally go back to the office afterwards. Or we can walk the streets of London and I'll show you Buckingham Palace and other things tourists like to see.”
Alex smiled. “OK, breakfast, and then I'm going back to work on your contract. And don't worry about Buckingham Palace – I've seen it.”
“That's a done deal then. Dress smart,” he said.
Well that resolution didn't last long, she thought after he'd rung off.
Later that day, Nick took a call from Tavis who told him that everything was all clear with the New York flat, no bugging devices there – and the results guaranteed by The High-Tech Security Company who had charged an eye-watering fee for services rendered in such a quick time.
Tavis said any bug could have been removed and he was now working on who might have had access to the apartment between him leaving for the airport and before the flat had been scanned.
Nick called Katherine into his office to tell her of the development.
“Nothing on the scan, but Tavis has asked the management company of the block to provide CCTV tape of the time that it could have been removed. So after that has been looked at, we'll know more.”
Special Relationship Page 12
