An Offer You Can't Refuse

by Jill Mansell

  Savannah gazed up at him then reached up and pulled his head down to meet hers. There was new urgency in her kiss. Finally she let go and leaned back again, her chest heaving and her eyes almost feverishly bright. ‘Gabe, come with me.’

  ‘Come where?’ Gabe hesitated, he couldn’t help himself; did she mean back to the cottage for yet more unbridled sex? He was as heterosexual as the next man but his heart sank slightly at the prospect. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for another bout.

  ‘To LA. Why not? We want to be together, don’t we?’ Savannah gripped the sleeves of his faded blue sweatshirt. ‘Well, what’s to stop us?’

  ‘Hang on, you mean Los Angeles? In California?’ It was necessary to ask. Gabe had learned this lesson the hard way years ago when he’d asked a girl if she wanted to go to Grease with him and she’d joyfully assumed he was inviting her on holiday. For all he knew, LA could be the name of some uber-trendy new London restaurant.

  Savannah beamed. ‘No, Los Angeles in Iceland. Of course Los Angeles in California!’

  This time Gabe’s heart didn’t so much sink slightly as go crashing down like a lift with its cables cut. She was making it sound like a spur of the moment idea but he knew it wasn’t; this was something she’d been waiting to spring on him.

  ‘Um…’

  ‘Don’t say um, say yes! And there’s no need to look so worried.’ Savannah shook her head. ‘When you think about it, it’s the obvious answer. My agent’s rented a house for me in Bel Air so that’s all taken care of. And I know you’d feel funny about coming out just to keep me company, but that’s the beauty of your job—you can work as easily over there as you can here!’

  ‘Savannah, listen—’

  ‘So basically it’s perfect in every way! The answer to all our prayers,’ she rattled on. ‘We can be together, we can even go public as a couple because I completely trust you now!’

  ‘Hang on a—’

  ‘And it’ll get you away from that messy flatmate of yours… I mean, I’m sure she’s a nice enough person and all that but, yech, I have to say she sounds a complete nightmare to live with. Plus, she’ll be relieved to see the back of you.’

  ‘Sav, listen—’

  ‘So, talk about tough decisions, is it going to be picking used tea bags out of the sink in a disgusting bombsite of a flat in Notting Hill, or being waited on hand and foot by the live-in staff at an eight-bedroomed mock-Grecian mansion in Bel Air, complete with home cinema and infinity pool?’

  Gabe looked at her and said nothing. He didn’t need to; Savannah read it in his eyes.

  Finally, hesitantly, she said, ‘So… is that a no?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’

  Hope flared. ‘Does that mean yes it’s a no, or yes it’s not a no, it’s a yes?’

  Gabe hastily shook his head. ‘Sorry. It means I can’t come to LA with you.’

  ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’

  Oh hell, he hated it when girls got pedantic.

  ‘Can’t, I suppose.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be fair on you. You’re an amazing girl and I think the world of you, but there’s just… something missing.’

  ‘Like, my hair?’

  Shit. ‘No. God, no.’ Vehemently Gabe shook his head. ‘Don’t even think that.’ Fuck, was she really thinking that?

  ‘It’s all right, I believe you.’ Savannah managed a ghost of a smile.

  ‘Well, good, because your hair has nothing to do with it. If anything I’m thinking there must be something seriously wrong with me. I mean, you’re Savannah Hudson,’ said Gabe. ‘And I’m nobody at all. The lowest of the low. Lower than that, even. I’m a street pap.’

  She picked at a loose strip of bark on the tree trunk beside her. ‘And now you’re turning me down. Does that mean you’ll sell your story to the papers?’

  ‘I won’t do that. I’d never do that. You can still trust me.’ Gabe’s voice softened. He felt sorry for her. It couldn’t be easy being Savannah Hudson.

  ‘You know who I feel like?’ She made a brave stab at levity. ‘Like the Baroness in The Sound of Music when she gets dumped by Captain Von Trapp.’

  Was this an embarrassing film to admit to being familiar with? Oh well, never mind.

  ‘Except I’m not about to run off with an irritating ex-nun and seven caterwauling children.’ When a shocked Lola had discovered last year that Gabe had never seen her all-time favorite film she had sat him down and forced him to watch it. Personally he’d have gone for the Baroness every time; what had Julie Andrews been on when she’d let them cut her hair like that?

  Back at the cottage for what they both knew was the last time, Gabe collected together his few belongings. Upstairs, having picked up his toothbrush and aftershave, he looked around the clinical white bathroom and Savannah’s equally immaculate bedroom. He wouldn’t miss this place; for all its traditional exterior, the inside of the cottage was modern and sparsely furnished, minimalist bordering on sterile…

  Hang on a minute. That couldn’t be right, surely? Taken aback, Gabe looked around again. He liked sterile, didn’t he? Cool, clean lines and no clutter was his thing, had always been his thing. And this was what he was seeing here; design-wise, he and Savannah couldn’t be more perfectly matched. Yet somehow all these clean lines suddenly seemed a little bit… well, empty.

  OK, this was too weird, like an alien invading his brain and taking over. An alien with shocking taste at that, and a predilection for gaudy knick-knacks.

  Unable to face searching through pristine drawers for the dark grey sweater he knew was in here somewhere, Gabe left it and hurried down the staircase.

  Savannah, pale but composed, was waiting in the kitchen with her back to the stove.

  ‘So you’re off then.’

  ‘I should be getting back.’ Thank God she wasn’t crying.

  ‘Sure you don’t have a chirpy ex-nun and seven caterwauling kids waiting for you at home?’

  Gabe smiled briefly. ‘Trust me, all I have is a grumpy invalid waiting to give me an earful because she asked me to pick up a box of tea bags before I left the flat last night and I forgot.’

  ‘And you really don’t have another girlfriend waiting on the horizon?’

  ‘I really don’t.’

  ‘I just wasn’t right for you, is that it?’

  ‘Hey, you’ll be perfect for someone else. You know that.’ Gabe folded her into his arms and she clung to him.

  Against his chest Savannah mumbled, ‘I just have to find someone who likes bald girls. Mr Spock, maybe.’

  ‘Don’t think like that.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re beautiful with hair or without it. Be proud.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ll do my best. And if I ever decide to go public, you can be the one to take the photos.’

  Gabe gave her one last kiss. One last hug. ‘Sweetheart, it’d be an honor.’

  Chapter 41

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ cried Sally. ‘Another living breathing human being! After months of being marooned up here all alone, I finally have the chance to speak to someone—that’s if I can remember how to speak…’

  ‘You’re doing just fine.’ Nick grinned up at her from the pavement. ‘Want to buzz me in?’

  Did she want to buzz him in? Was he kidding? Hastily clonking through to the bathroom and slapping on a bit of powder and lipgloss, Sally clonked her way back through the flat and pressed the buzzer. Somewhat embarrassingly—but at the same time rather excitingly—she’d had a dream about Nick last night in which he’d taken her to the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy, flirted with her endlessly, and ended up showing her into a room containing a stunning sculpture of two life-sized bodies intertwined. Then, in front of all the other visitors milling about, he had begun to demonstrate exactly ho
w the bodies were intertwined, whispering into her ear as he did so, ‘You bend your left leg like this and put your right arm around my waist like this…’

  Tap tap tap.

  Nick was now knocking on the door. All of a fluster, Sally fast-forwarded through the rest of the dream, where he’d started kissing her and running his hands over her body and a grumpy uniformed security guard had stomped up and announced that they couldn’t do that sort of thing here and Nick had said, ‘But, it’s art…’

  ‘Sally? Have you fallen over in there?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She opened the door, let him in. ‘I was just having a quick tidy-up.’

  Which was so ragingly obviously untrue, it was a wonder a thunderbolt didn’t strike her dead on the spot. But Nick, ever the gentleman, simply greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and said cheerfully, ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fed up. I feel like Robinson Crusoe. Gabe buggered off yesterday, God only knows where because he won’t tell me, and Lola’s gone out for the day with EJ. Gabe was supposed to pick up some tea bags yesterday but he didn’t, so I went all the way to the corner shop on my crutches… and when I got there they were shut! So then I had to hobble what felt like fifty miles down the road to the next shop and when I finally got there, they didn’t even sell PG Tips, only horrible cheap tea bags that taste of dust. I tell you, I’m so fed up with this stupid leg of mine I just want to chop it off.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Nick was doing his best to keep a straight face.

  ‘And I’ve got blisters on my hands from using the stupid crutches.’ He was wearing his navy cashmere crew-neck sweater over a white shirt and cream chinos. With a jolt Sally realized that he’d been wearing the same sweater last night in her dream… well, until she’d pulled it off over his head.

  ‘So, not the best of days.’

  ‘You could say that.’ She broke into a smile to show she wasn’t a complete grump. ‘Not the best of weeks. See that?’

  ‘See what?’ Nick followed the direction of her gesturing hand.

  ‘That empty mantelpiece.’

  He frowned. ‘It’s not empty. There’s loads of things on it. Fairy lights, photos, candles…’

  ‘But no Valentine’s cards,’ said Sally. ‘That’s where I’d put my Valentine’s cards if I’d been sent any. But I haven’t been, so I couldn’t put them there. Because nobody sent me any. Not even one.’

  ‘I didn’t get any either.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Hooray for that. Mischievously she said, ‘Not even from Lola’s mum?’

  Nick laughed. ‘Especially not from Blythe. It’s OK, I think Lola’s come round at last to the idea that she’s not going to get us back together. Sweet of her to try, but let’s face it, we’re poles apart. That Disney happy ending was never going to happen.’

  Better and better. Sally began joyfully concocting an alternative happy ending starring… ta daa!… herself.

  ‘Anyway, this is the reason I dropped by.’ Nick took a couple of rolled-up leaflets from his pocket. ‘Lola’s got it into her head that we should be taking up badminton, so I’ve been to look at a couple of sports centers. I can leave these with you or slide them under her door.’

  All this way just to drop off a couple of leaflets? Was that true, or was he using it as an excuse to see her when he knew Lola wouldn’t be here?

  ‘Leave them with me. I’ll give them to her when she gets home. Where are you off to this afternoon? Somewhere nice, I expect. Having fun, meeting friends…’

  ‘The truth? There’s an account I should be doing some work on, but to be honest I’m not in the mood.’ Pausing to study her for a moment, Nick said, ‘How about if I invited you out to lunch, would that cheer you up?’

  ‘Really? Are you sure?’ Sally was barely able to conceal her delight.

  ‘Why not? Decent food, a few drinks, and good company.’ Nick’s grey eyes crinkled with amusement. ‘What could be nicer than that?’

  This was everything she’d hoped for and more. Every nerve ending zinging with possibilities, Sally said, ‘I can be ready in ten minutes.’ God, talk about fate bringing together two people who were perfect for each other. What a fantastic day this was turning out to be.

  ***

  Nick grew better and better looking as lunch progressed. By the time coffee arrived he was irresistible. The food had probably been good too but what with all the excitement and batting back and forth of scintillating one-liners interspersed with more deep and meaningful conversation, Sally hadn’t actually got around to eating much of it. Her stomach had shrunk to the size of a thimble and adrenaline production was in overdrive. It no longer mattered that Nick was Lola’s father because—thank God—he and Blythe had no intention whatsoever of getting back together. The hurdle had been removed as deftly as Houdini might escape simple handcuffs. And along with the hurdle, Sally felt her inhibitions disappearing too, possibly helped along by the bottle of wine she appeared to have played a large part in demolishing. Every time Nick topped up her glass and she half-heartedly protested, he reminded her that he was driving and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

  Which it most certainly would have been. And now she was bathed in a delicious, warm top-to-toe glow. Semi-accidentally brushing her hand against his, Sally said, ‘So did you not want any more children or did it just never happen?’

  Nick looked momentarily startled at this about-turn. OK, they had been in the middle of a conversation about killing time at airports when your flight’s been delayed, but she was interested. It was always a nice thing to know.

  ‘Well, my ex-wife was never keen. She was a career woman, not really interested in kids. I couldn’t really force her to have them against her will.’ There, that was it; the last box ticked. Sally’s heart melted at the thought of this wonderful man wanting children and being cruelly denied them by his cold-hearted career-driven harridan of an ex.

  OK, he was now officially perfect. All her life she’d been getting herself involved with men who ran a mile if you so much as mentioned babies. And everyone knew that older men made better fathers. Look at Michael Douglas; he doted on his gorgeous children and dazzling young wife.

  ***

  ‘Whoops, hang on, let me just…’

  Sally gave up the struggle to haul herself out of the passenger seat and allowed Nick to do the honors, providing a shoulder to lean on as she and her crutches navigated their way onto the pavement. By some miracle she didn’t trip over them. Gathering herself, she handed the front door key to Nick and said, ‘Coming in?’

  It was a rhetorical question. Of course he was. Nick said cheerfully, ‘I think someone has to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs, don’t you?’

  Sally took deep breaths; this was it, she knew it. Gabe was out, they had the place to themselves and the situation couldn’t be more perfect. Well, OK, it would have been a teenier bit more perfect if she didn’t have her gammy leg to contend with, but it certainly wasn’t going to stop them.

  Finally they reached the flat. Somewhat unromantically, Sally discovered, all the wine she’d drunk had found its way to her bladder and she was forced to excuse herself in order to visit the bathroom. Returning, she found Nick gazing out of the living-room window. Lit from behind, he had a profile like a Greek god.

  He turned, indicating the kitchen. ‘I put the kettle on. Thought you might like a coffee.’

  OK, it was time. He wanted her to be the one to make the first move. And he was smiling, waiting for her to make it. Approaching him—clunk—and taking care—clunk—not to bash into the coffee table, Sally smiled back then deliberately took her arms out of the crutches and propped them against the wall. Facing Nick, she said, ‘I don’t want a coffee.’

  ‘No? Well, that’s all right. You don’t have to have one.’ Amused, Nick said, ‘It’s not compulsory.’

  �
�Can you believe this is happening?’ Without the support of the crutches Sally felt herself beginning to sway.

  ‘Steady.’ He reached for her. ‘You’re not a stork.’

  Who wanted to be a stork? ‘It’s the last thing I expected.’ Sally gazed at him. ‘Is it the last thing you expected?’

  He looked bemused, frowned slightly. ‘Well, yes, but ice skaters do injure themselves, so I suppose there’s always a chance…’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ They appeared to be talking at cross purposes but Sally was beyond caring. ‘It won’t make any difference, I promise.’ Curling her arms around his neck, unable to hold back a moment longer, she lunged forward and kissed him passionately, full on the mouth.

  Chapter 42

  Making his way along Radley Road, Gabe slowed and looked up at the window of the flat. Puzzled by the sight of what appeared to be two people locked in a passionate embrace, he reached instinctively for the camera around his neck and peered through the long lens, adjusting it until it slid into focus.

  What the…?

  Gabe’s heart began to thud in his chest. Jesus. Sally and Lola’s father. Sally, wrapped around him like a scarf. Lola’s father… for crying out loud, how long had this been going on? How long had they been carrying on behind his back? And not only his back, Lola’s too, because she absolutely definitely didn’t know about this.

  Unable to watch any more, Gabe put down the camera and turned away. His hands were trembling and he felt as if he’d been punched hard in the stomach. Talk about sly, underhand, deceitful… How dare they? He swallowed and turned back; yes, they were still there, no longer kissing but only inches apart, holding each other and gazing into each other’s eyes, murmuring sweet nothings… So this was the kind of man Nick James was, nothing but a sleazy Lothario. How fucking dare he?

  ***

  Something truly horrible was happening. When Nick jerked away, Sally said, ‘Sshh, it’s OK, you don’t have to worry about Lola any more. She understands.’

  But Nick wasn’t looking relieved. More like horrified. Eyes wide with disbelief, he said, ‘This isn’t to do with Lola.’