Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything, Victoria silently prayed. Then she felt bad about having asked her friend to keep her secret.
“It’s just a day trip, you know. Next time I come over I’ll get a list of recommendations from you, Zo.”
“Eez there a sexy Frenchman in your future?” Malie laughed, putting on the worst French accent ever.
“Hang on, I’ll check.” Victoria pretended to look around as if she’d lost one. “Nope. Not a single one.”
“Shame. A Frenchman in your stocking would have been a great Christmas present. But oh, by work, do you mean you have a design commission there or something? Please say yes. That would be brilliant.” Malie was combing her fingers through her crazy curls to waft the water out. “That and le sexy Frenchman would show sleazebag Peter.”
Victoria thought about the look on Peter’s face when he’d seen the engagement ring. She’d thought she’d feel righteously smug but actually she didn’t care. Not at all. Peter was in the past and she had zero feelings for him now.
In fact, talking of sexy...a certain very English, very gorgeous man sprang to mind. A man who should be arriving anytime soon to whisk her to a fancy restaurant. To his apartment. To his bed. Her breath stalled at the thought. Anticipation fluttered through her. And nervousness too. She hadn’t said yes. But she hadn’t said no either. Truth was, she was so torn and so turned on. Whenever she was with him she was incapable of rational thought. She looked around, hoping to see him, but he was obviously still caught up in his meeting.
“No sexy men around here.” Yet. “But I have just been into an amazing haberdashery that makes fabric for Chanel, which is Christmas come early, as far as I’m concerned.” Another one to tick off her list of things Oliver had made happen. “And I am having a runway show. Like...soon.”
“Oh. My. God,” Malie squealed. “That’s brilliant! Where?”
“You remember the department store I told you about? Next to work? The owner has asked me and my students to do a fashion show at the opening day. I’m showing my new bridal collection.”
Lily was still looking at her with a guarded expression.
“And I promise I’m going to send you all email invitations just so you can celebrate with me long distance. I know you won’t be able to make it, but I just wanted to...well, show off.”
“Go, you! That’s fabulous. It’s about time.” Zoe gave the thumbs-up. “You so deserve this.”
“I’ll be able to come up for the afternoon but I’m struggling to take the evening off work. It’s mad busy here at the moment. Should I carpool with your parents?” Lily finally said. “Can’t wait to cheer you on.”
“They can’t make it. They’ve already booked a trip to the German Christmas markets, but they’re thrilled for me,” Victoria said, then felt bad because her parents were the most supportive people she knew, but she couldn’t say the same about her friends’ families.
Her friends. These three women on her screen were all smiling at her good fortune, but she wasn’t being honest with them and that hit her hard. They’d shared everything together, they’d fought for each other through very dark times. She couldn’t have a conversation with her closest friends and not be totally honest about why she was here in Paris, she’d never forgive herself. And they’d probably never forgive her either.
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “OK, listen. I’ve got something to tell you guys. Just don’t...don’t judge me, OK? Before anyone says anything, I want you to know I have good reasons for doing what I’m doing.”
“Victoria Scott, I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I would never, ever judge you. But you’re starting to worry me.” The birthday girl’s happy smile turned south.
“It’s nothing bad. Well...no. It’s nothing bad.” Was it? Not bad, but definitely serious. She’d somehow become embroiled with Oliver and she didn’t want to un-embroil herself. Victoria’s eyes flicked to the little square with Lily’s face in it. Her friend nodded encouragingly, and with a certain amount of relief, possibly that she wasn’t now the only one carrying Victoria’s secret. “The thing is...I’m in Paris because I’mpretendingtobesomeone’sfiancée.”
“Say what?” Zoe’s eyes widened. “Pretending to blah blah fiancée?”
As if they’d let her get away with that. How to even explain the ridiculous situation she’d got herself into? “So...there’s this guy I met...he needs someone to be his fake fiancée for a few days and he asked me and I said yes.”
Shocked silence. Then:
“Be careful.”
“Go you!”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Victoria wasn’t sure exactly who said what, although she could probably guess.
“‘This guy’ being Oliver Russell, the billionaire boss at Russell & Co.,” Lily chipped in, making quote marks with her fingers. “Because his father’s sick and wants to see Oliver settled, so Victoria’s obliging and making them happy. Right, V? It’s for a good cause.”
“Lily, you knew and didn’t say anything?” Malie asked incredulously.
“I’m sorry! I promised V I wouldn’t,” Lily said with an apologetic shrug.
“I thought we didn’t keep secrets,” Zoe said quietly, hurt evident in her expression.
“We don’t. I am so sorry, you guys. Lily’s right, though, it is for a good cause and that’s part of the reason I asked her to keep it quiet.” Thank you, Lils. Victoria knew how hard it had been for Lily not to say anything about this to their friends and for that she was immensely grateful. God, she loved these women. No matter what, no matter how insane her ideas sounded, she knew they would always support her. “He brought me to Paris in a helicopter for dinner and I’m having my show at his store.”
Zoe’s eyes narrowed, the hurt still there, but Victoria could see her friend was trying to understand why she hadn’t told them about her and Ollie’s arrangement. And that made everything worse because they were all right; they didn’t keep secrets. Ever. “You swapped an acting role for a helicopter. Like your style. It sounds like one of those movies like The Wedding Date or The Proposal or something. Is he Ryan Reynolds hot too? Please say yes.”
He’s more than that. And kind. And lovely. Victoria swallowed. “A bit. I suppose.” She felt Lily’s gaze on her and the truth came tumbling out. “Look, don’t read anything into this but I kissed him. Or rather, we kissed.” More than once...in fact, so many times she’d lost count.
Her words were met by a loud whoop! “Go, you. Finally, one of us gets some action,” Zoe said, but Victoria knew they were all scared of anything that went deeper than a little action, and that none of them had managed to hold down a serious relationship. Ever. She didn’t know if that was related to the accident but she thought it could be. They were all scarred and scared in some way or other.
“There’s no bed involved. And yes, he kisses well, but it doesn’t mean anything.” Liar. More silence. “Somebody say something.”
“I am genuinely in awe.” But Zoe’s mouth twisted a little and her voice softened. “Just be careful, OK. I’ve seen the way those movies end and it’s all great in make-believe and I really hope it all turns out well, but...” They all knew that reality was harsh and didn’t always come with a guaranteed happy ending. They knew that better than most people. “Just be careful, please.”
“I will. I’m fine. But thank you.”
Lily smiled too. “It is a bit crazy, but you know that whatever happens we’re here for you.”
“But it could work out, right? We need regular updates, OK? K-I-S-S-I-N-G, Victoria and Oliver sitting in a—” Malie’s excited grin fell at Victoria’s warning but half-joking stare. “OK. Pretend. Right. Got it. But if anything happens... I mean you never know, right? I want the lowdown in a Lost Hours call, OK? And, if he’s seriously a billionaire can you get him to
fly you over here?”
“I wish. Our deal’s only for a few more days so I’m enjoying the high life while I can. A helicopter! Champagne!” Victoria knew she’d like Oliver if he had a bicycle and a bottle of fizzy water. It wasn’t the trappings of wealth that attracted her. It was him.
It was him. And for the millionth time she wished, just wished she could be telling her friends it was real.
But Lily, always softer, quieter than the others just nodded. “We love you, V. If you think it’s the right thing to do, then go for it.”
Malie stuck her thumbs up. “Got your back, OK?”
“Thanks, guys.”
It was past seven now and she wondered where Oliver had got to. She turned and scanned the dark street. There, in the distance, was a figure huddled against the icy wind walking towards her. As he got closer she realized his face was ashen. The easygoing manner from before had been replaced with a stern expression.
Her heart went into free fall. What had happened? She looked back at her friends. “Hey, squad, he’s coming back. I’ve got to go.”
“At least turn the camera round so we can see him!” Malie shouted.
“No way. Have the best day, Malie.”
“Don’t go yet! We need more details!” a chorus of voices chimed as she slipped the tablet into her bag and ran to Oliver feeling relieved and supported and loved by her friends. She’d call them later and explain more. She grasped his arm and leaned in to kiss him, as if kissing this man in the street was the most normal thing to do. But she just couldn’t help herself and he looked like he needed it.
“Hey! What’s the matter? Did you give yourself the sack?”
He shook his head. “I need to go back to London. Now. The helicopter’s on standby. I’m sorry about tonight. We can grab something to eat back in London.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her appetite had taken a dive the minute she’d seen his grim expression. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“My dad’s taken a turn. Mum called and asked me to go back immediately and I know she fusses but even she wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t necessary.”
She understood the subtext. Eric was already sick and receiving revolutionary new therapy. Something had gone wrong.
“I’m so sorry, Ollie. We’ll go straight back.” She rubbed her hand up and down his shoulder. He turned away. She tugged him back to face her. “I don’t want any of that Russell stiff upper lip stuff. Come here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not. I imagine you’re scared. You’re hurting and that’s OK, Oliver Russell. You are allowed to be human.” She spread her arms and waited, all thoughts of what she’d been planning to say to him forced to the recesses of her mind. She couldn’t do that to him today when both he and his mother needed her support. She’d do it tomorrow, or once things had settled down a bit. Another time. Right now, she was going to be the friend he needed her to be. The friend she’d be to Lily and Malie and Zoe if they were going through this. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself. I’m here for you.”
He just looked as if she’d handed him a lifeline and he didn’t know what to do with it. “There’s not enough time.”
Maybe there wasn’t and he’d have to deal with that too. But she wanted him to know he didn’t have to do any of it alone. She wrapped her arms around him, spanning the ribbons of muscles and tendons that were primed and tense. It felt as if every cell in his body was tight. This was Oliver in self-preservation mode. She needed him to know that he wasn’t alone, he didn’t need to carry this all himself. She kissed him gently. “I’m here, I’m here. I’m here.”
She clung on.
And held tight.
15
EVEN IN A helicopter it took too long to get to the hospital, as far as Oliver was concerned. Time was running out. He had too much to do, too much to say to his father and he went over and over it in his head on the flight. But now they were here his words fled. He steadied himself for bad news. Whatever happened, he would not lose control.
His mother ran up the corridor towards him and gripped his arm, her features hollowed out by worry. “Ollie, Victoria. Thank God you’re here. The doctors have been with him for hours and they won’t tell me anything.”
“What happened?”
“We were just talking, then he suddenly went pale and limp and I called for help. Then the staff rushed in with extra equipment, shooed me out of the room and left me here.”
Here, being the plush waiting area at the side of the ward. It looked more like a hotel with its lime green and pale wood decor, individual side rooms and personal menus, but inside the bedrooms the patients were as sick and frail as in any other hospital.
Oliver looked round for a member of staff, but they were all in other rooms caring for patients. He wrapped his mum in a hug, pressing a kiss to her head. It wasn’t something they usually did and she looked up at him, confused by his sudden, uncharacteristic affection, but he hung on the way Victoria had held him, knowing it would make his mother feel better.
“They’re focusing on him, Mum. I’m sure they’ll come and give us some news as soon as they have any.”
“Two hours, Oliver. I’ve been standing here for two hours.” His mother’s voice was cracking, and he could see she was nearing breaking point.
“I’ll find out what’s happening.” He let her go and knocked on his father’s door.
A nurse came out of the room pushing a trolley. “Sorry it took so long. You can go in now. But please be quiet as Eric’s sleeping. The doctor’s going to—oh, here he is now.”
Dr. Malik came out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him. He opened his mouth to speak but Stella got in first, “Is he going to be OK?”
“It was just an allergic reaction. I say just; it was quite a bad one. We had to give him two shots of adrenaline and we’ve been monitoring him very closely. But he’s back with us. I have to be honest, we were quite worried about him for a few minutes back there.” The cardiologist shook his head wearily and explained, “New drugs. Can’t always be sure how a patient’s going to respond.”
“He wanted to try them,” Stella insisted. She was pale but dry-eyed. Holding everything in like a well-trained Russell. “Said he’d give anything a try for a few more years. Now I don’t know if we’ll have a few more hours.”
“He’s definitely better than he was but he’s not out of the woods yet. We’ll keep a very close eye on him. The next twenty-four hours are crucial.”
“OK, thanks for being so candid, Dr. Malik.”
Touch and go. Oliver thought about all the things he should have said to his dad, all the things they could have done together if Russell & Co. hadn’t eaten up all their time. He wasn’t going to be that kind of father, he was going to devote weekends and evenings and holidays to his kids. He was going to make time count. And, he was going to make what little time he had left with his father count too.
As if she understood what he was feeling, Victoria’s hand crept into his, and her tenderness crept into his chest too. Just having her here gave him strength. He’d never known how it could feel to share a burden with someone. To be able to lean into them and feel the heavy weight lift, even if only for a short time. He hadn’t known it was even possible to share joy too. But just watching her in the helicopter he’d been having as much fun as she was.
He walked his mother into the room and sat her down on one side of the bed, got a very worried-looking Victoria to sit in a chair across from Stella, and sat next to her, still holding her hand and not wanting to let go. He wondered if he needed to be checked out by the cardiologist too. His heart was pounding. He willed it to slow. Russells kept a tight control over themselves. He could do that. He was in charge now.
He let his mum fuss over his father for a few minutes. Pulling the duvet up to his chest, straightening the sheet, ti
dying the tray table. Her hands fluttered, busy. It reminded him of Victoria and the way she talked with her hands. It was amazing that even coming from completely different worlds, these two women were similar. When he saw his mum looking round for more fixing and fussing to do he stood, put his hands on her shoulders and said, “Mum, you need to get some rest. You look exhausted.”
“I’m not going to leave him.” She was resolute.
“I always thought my stubborn streak was from Dad, but clearly I was wrong. Did you eat?”
As if to raise the stubborn stakes higher she crossed her arms. “No. I’m not hungry.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Neither of my parents want to eat anything. What am I going to do?”
“Phone Antoine.” Victoria’s voice was low, as if she didn’t want to intrude.
“What?”
Victoria spoke louder. “Phone Antoine and get him to send over some of your favorite things. That might help get your parents’ appetites back.” She made asking for help sound so easy. “He knows you well enough to do this for you. Phone him.”
“No. I couldn’t.”
“How many favors have you ever asked of anyone?” At the shake of his head she frowned. “You Russells really do need to learn to ask for help. Phone your chef friend and ask him to deliver some food. He can only say no.”
Of course, Antoine didn’t say anything except, How quickly do you need it? And soon enough a courier arrived with delicious-smelling meatballs and his mother’s favorite lobster ravioli.
After making sure Eric was sleeping and safe they took the food through to the waiting area and had a feast. Oliver watched his mother’s shoulders sag as she put her fork down. “You can’t look after Dad if you’re exhausted. There’s a relatives’ room down the corridor, Mum. We just walked past it. I’ll see if it’s available and you can sleep there. I will call you if there’s any change. I promise I’ll stay here all night.”
Meet Me in London Page 21
