by Kim Izzo
“Clive,” I began. He stopped his fussing and looked at me. “I’m sorry I’ve been a drain on you and Emma. I hadn’t realized.”
Emma stood up and rushed to hug me. “I’m so sorry you heard that. He didn’t mean it, did you, Clive?”
Clive shrugged and hesitated before saying, “No, I’m just under stress.”
I looked into Emma’s eyes. She was a dear old friend and we’d been through lots together, even if we hadn’t lived in the same country for more than a decade. She was in as much of a bind as I was. Doubly so, when I considered the baby. She was stressing out for two now. She needed me, her friend, to help her through her ordeal.
“I have an idea,” I began.
A few moments later I was back in my room. I picked up my mobile and called Scott, and he answered on the first ring.
“Look, there’s been a slight change of plan …”
28.
Repossession
You would never think of marrying a man like that just to secure your own comfort?
—Pride and Prejudice
If my friends had wanted to make a show of their newfound poverty they had outdone themselves. And there I was, having canceled my dinner plan with Scott to help my friends prep the house, standing alongside Emma and Clive and admiring our handiwork. We had “decorated” for the occasion. Gone were the pristine white rugs and sofas, gone was the home theater system, gone was the pricey espresso maker Clive had been cleaning that morning, and in their places were folding chairs and milk crates, a boombox and CDs from the 1980s and 1990s, and Styrofoam cups for beer and wine with Ritz crackers laden with cheese spread and gherkins. Where the light fixtures had been, bare bulbs and exposed wires hung, casting the normally artfully lighted space in gloom.
“You really didn’t have to cancel your dinner for us,” Emma said and put her arm around me, which meant she was glad I had done just that.
“Are you kidding? I know only too well what it feels like to lose your home, remember? Besides, this was much more fun than dinner at the Wolesley or whatever the place was called,” I said happily. “I just wish there was more I could do to help.”
Clive and Emma exchanged knowing looks. “Ah, the Wolesley is one of the most glamorous restaurants in London. Teeming with celebs,” Clive pointed out.
I shrugged. “Scott said he’d drop by here. It’s better this way. I can help you guys with the party. Anyway, it makes me look mysterious and not desperate.”
“Ah yes, very wise thinking, Mrs. Bennet,” Emma said and we both burst out laughing.
“I’m just thinking of darling Elizabeth,” I said in a fit of laughter.
“You girls are too much.” Clive grinned.
As it turned out, Clive was right. We were too much—at least for a man of Scott’s stature. He arrived with the party in full swing and seemed unimpressed by our decorating.
“Your friends have quite the sense of humor,” Scott commented wryly. I gulped. Clive was across the room opening a bottle of wine. I waved at him. He galloped over and stuck his hand out for Scott. He was stupid-drunk.
“Is this the man of the hour?” he slurred. “Scott, I’m Clive. Kate has told us much about you.” Clive winked at me. “Welcome to what was once my home.”
Scott shook his hand good-naturedly and wasn’t squeamish when Clive handed him a Styrofoam cup.
“You want red or white?” Clive asked with a grin. “Now that we’re poor we no longer distinguish between cabernet and shiraz or pinot grigio and sauvignon blanc. It’s just color codes.”
“Red will do fine.” Scott smiled politely.
“White for me,” I said and searched the room for Emma. I found her standing by the living room wall where the plasma television once hung, with a box in her hand.
“I want you to meet Emma,” I said and, grabbing Scott’s hand, led the way through the crowd. As we got closer I saw what she was up to. She and a handful of revelers had each chosen a large Magic Marker from the box and were drawing graffiti on the walls. I stood in shock. Emma spotted me and laughed.
“Don’t look so scared, Kate.” She laughed, then nudged me. “If the bank is going to take the house, they can bloody well take the autographed copy!”
Clive dashed over to us and grabbed a black marker to scrawl his name illegibly in all directions.
“Woohoo!” he shouted gleefully as he wrote in huge strokes. “I haven’t had this much fun since I made that one-point-six-million bonus in 2005.”
I looked at Scott to see how he was taking my friends’ rash behavior. He stood stock-still and sipped his wine and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. What must he be thinking? He was still successful and had been good with his money. Why had I brought him here to witness Clive and Emma’s downfall?
“I’m going upstairs to grab my handbag,” I whispered in his ear. “Then we can go somewhere else, if you’d like.”
He nodded gravely. “Yes, let’s do that.”
I left him and was navigating the sea of drunken partygoers to the foot of the staircase when I felt someone grab my arm. Of course it was Griff. I kept walking up the steps, but he followed me.
“I was hoping I’d find you here,” he said with surprising warmth. “Emma told me you turned down your date with Scott to help her clear the house. That was nice of you.”
“She’s one of my best friends,” I said. “Of course she matters more than a date.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “Look, I want to apologize.”
“I should apologize to you,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m sorry I offended you last night.”
“Don’t worry. Though I must admit that you looked rather fetching in the Daily Mail,” he went on.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said, shaking my head.
“Tabloids usually only run shots of famous people, not …”
“Not nobodies like me?” I said, annoyed, and stood with my arms folded, one step above him.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. But in general, yes, I thought they would overlook you, but I should have known that you’re not the sort of woman that one overlooks.”
“That’s generous, coming from you,” I said and allowed a hint of a smile to creep across my face.
“I mean you’re a walking calamity, half the time falling into manure or picking up Russians mobsters …”
My smile quickly vanished and my expression turned to stone. “Quit while you’re ahead, Griff,” I said and marched to my bedroom door. “Charm is dangerous in a man like you.”
“And one more thing,” he said and followed me.
“Yes?” But before I could say another word he grabbed me and kissed me. Ding, ding, ding, the alarm went off inside my body once more. I squirmed but he kept kissing me and I stopped fighting it. It felt perfect.
“I’m not gay,” he said playfully as he pulled away and leapt down the stairs.
“You don’t have to prove it!” I shouted after him but I could feel my lips curl into a wide smile.
I went to my room and sat on my bed. I couldn’t stop smiling. Now what? On the one hand, how dare he grab me like that! Why did he care if I thought he was gay? Even if he was a good kisser, what difference did it make to him or me? The only man who should kiss me was Scott. On the other hand, there was no denying there was a connection between us, no matter how unlikely that seemed. When I thought of how recently he’d entered my life I was amazed at how we had become close, in an odd and antagonistic way, but close nonetheless. I shoved all of my valuables into the closet and locked it. By the time I came back downstairs I noticed that Griff and Clive were huddled together conspiratorially. Wanting to avoid another encounter I sought out Emma for my good-bye. By this point she was in the kitchen spreading peanut butter on cheese crackers.
“Pregnancy craving?” I asked and put my arms around her. “I hate to leave so early but Scott wants to go.”
She nodded and licked the knife clean. “Are we past his bedtime?” she said
, then looked aghast. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I waved her off. “Don’t worry.” I grinned, hoping to soften the fact that I was making such a quick exit. “I’ll be back later.”
I found Scott, who was hovering by the front door. We jumped into his limo and peeled away.
“That was quite the party,” he said and smiled politely. I smiled back but I was tired of smiling, of being polite, and of rules. I threw my arms around Scott and kissed him because I wanted to and because I needed to erase the taste of Griff from my mouth. And I’m pleased to say he kissed back.
To hell with rule number one. Two hours later I was lying in Scott’s hotel bed with a newfound knowledge of what sex with a sixty-year-old was like—more spa treatment than earth shaking. To my disappointment, unlike those close encounters back in Florida and Switzerland, there had been a total lack of ding, ding, ding alarm bells. Clearly Griff’s kiss had shaken me up. But who needed hot? I couldn’t have everything. Even I knew that. I got out of bed and took my BlackBerry into the washroom and sent Fawn a text message.
“We did it. Sorry, I know I broke the rule.”
I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
“Honey, if you want my help, you have to listen to me. Oh well, we’ll do damage control tomorrow. I’m pleasantly occupied at the moment.”
This last bit made me giggle, and even though it was very late, I decided on giving her one final bit of pertinent information.
“And btw, Griff’s not gay.”
Sure enough, she responded in seconds.
“I’m afraid to ask how you found out.”
“I have my ways.”
“Careful, Kate. He’s just the sort of man to mess up your plan.”
“Never fear. I can take care of Griff Saunderson.”
And then I turned off my BlackBerry and went to bed, not quite so sure I could take care of Griff.
29.
A Very Short Engagement
In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better shew more affection than she feels … he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.
—Pride and Prejudice
I woke up to a gentle kiss on my cheek from Scott and rolled over as he tossed me a bathrobe.
“My Lady,” he said with a charming smile. With his salt-and-pepper hair tousled, he looked sexy and young again. “Care for breakfast? I’ve ordered up a bunch of things off the menu.”
I followed him into the living area and spread out on the tray set for two were pancakes, sausage, fried eggs, and toast. If I kept this up I would gain thirty pounds. We chatted as we ate and he read The Financial Times, handing me the fashion pages.
“Scott,” I began, determined to do my own form of damage control. He folded his paper and looked at me thoughtfully. “Last night was wonderful. But I want you to know I don’t behave that way as a rule.”
He surprised me by laughing. “Are you saying I mean more to you than my groom, Bernardo?”
Oh shit. I squirmed a little and felt my face turn red.
“I’m teasing, Kate,” he said. “I also don’t jump into bed with every woman I meet.”
I nodded and smiled like a fool. Maybe I did need Fawn to be my Cyrano. “What I’m trying to say is I’m looking for something long-term,” I continued. “I realize we’ve only spent one night together so this may sound ridiculous, but you should know what I want. If you don’t want the same thing, then that’s fine, too, but tell me.”
I followed up with a swig of coffee. He rubbed his lips together and placed his knife and fork on his plate.
“I’m glad you told me,” he said. “I’m not looking for a fling, either. Tatiana was enough and you’ve shown me I need more from a relationship than a sexy young thing.”
I squirmed some more. How old did he think I was? I was still nearly twenty years younger. I bit my tongue; now was not the time to be feisty.
“You’re a mature and elegant woman, Kate,” he said as I bristled further at the word “mature.” “I look forward to getting to know you better. In fact, I was thinking. Why don’t you move in here with me?”
“Really?” I asked, stunned. His suite at the Langham Hotel was exquisite and spacious. “Are you sure?”
“Sorry if I shocked or offended you,” he said quickly.
I recovered as fast as I could. “No, I wasn’t offended at all. Just surprised, it’s so quick.”
“It would only be for a few weeks until I’m done with all my business in London,” he explained. “After seeing your friends’ place last night I think it may be a good idea and if we don’t like each other after a day or two, that’s that. Besides, I get lonely.”
“I’d love to,” I said, forcing myself to relax, as if moving in with a man after one night was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll get my things after breakfast.”
“I’m impressed,” Fawn wrote in her text response to my update. “Just make sure you’re not just his date while he’s in London and he dumps you before heading back to America.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Never mind; I’d worry about that later.
As I stepped into Emma’s house the state of the place shocked me. The wannabe graffiti artists had found inspiration and all the main floor walls were covered with gruesome stick figures performing lewd acts. Garbage was strewn everywhere and whatever wine wasn’t consumed appeared to have been poured on the floor, judging by the sticky mess I couldn’t avoid stepping in. The party had obviously continued well into the morning as I climbed over passed-out revelers. I made it to my room and nervously opened the door, unsure what to expect. Sure enough, there was someone asleep on my bed. I flipped on the light and the body stirred and rolled over. It was Griff.
“Not you again,” I said, trying to sound exasperated even though my stomach fluttered from excitement.
He sat up, his hair jutting out in all directions, and rubbed his eyes.
“Kate?” he said, sounding bewildered. “This is your room?”
“It is,” I said bluntly, trying to hide any tone of being glad to see him from my voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to pack.” I don’t know why I was hesitant to tell him the truth about Scott. It was ridiculous.
“Pack? Where are you off to?” he asked as he got up and stumbled to the doorway.
“If you must know,” I said, pausing, not wanting to spoil the flirtation I’d only just begun to enjoy. “I’m moving to Scott’s hotel for the time being. We’re becoming involved.”
He pursed his lips and ran his hand through his mop of hair. “Congratulations then,” he said coolly. “Love triumphs once more. When is the happy day?”
“Don’t be so mean,” I said quietly. “We may very well fall in love and get married.”
“Look, Kate,” he said and put his hand on my shoulder and off went those damn alarms again. “I don’t want to be mean. I’m glad you’re getting what you want. You deserve it.”
I looked at him expecting a snarky comment to follow. When none came I relaxed and forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“I just hope it makes you happy,” he continued. “Being with a man just for his wallet.”
“I knew you couldn’t let things be nice and polite,” I said accusingly. How quickly we could revert back to enemies. “Scott is a great man and I like him. That he happens to have money is icing on the cake.”
“We both know you wouldn’t be with a man his age unless he had money,” he said pointedly.
“Is that so? And who would I be with? You?” I said icily.
“You might,” he snapped.
“I wouldn’t be with you if you paid me,” I said with a sniff.
“Apparently that’s what it takes,” he retorted.
I threw whatever I had in my hands at his head but he was too fast and bolted out the door. I slammed it behind him and furiously stuffed my clothes into suitcases and shopping bags. When I came back downstairs there was no sign of Griff, but Emma w
as sitting on the floor nursing a cup of coffee. I sat down beside her.
“I’ve got news,” I said. She was half-awake as I told her about moving to the hotel.
“That’s great,” she said with a weak smile. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Not that I do. You’ll have to visit us in Dorset.”
“I will and I’ll bring Scott with me,” I said, liking that it was so easy to speak of us as a real couple.
“You know Penwick Manor is nearby where we’ll be living,” she said, hoping to pique my interest. “You can stay there.”
“I couldn’t!” I insisted, not letting on about Griff’s kiss or the fight we’d just had, or worse, my inexplicable attraction to the man. “It would be awkward having Griff wait on me and Scott.”
“I see your point,” she agreed.
It was sad leaving her in that house but as she pointed out, they were going to pack up what was left and drive to Dorset. I was very relieved to be back at the hotel and was greeted enthusiastically, if not lovingly, by Scott.
“I’ve made a list for you,” he said and handed me a printed page. I looked at it and was confused.
“This looks like a schedule,” I said and pored over the list of times with names beside them.
“It is,” he answered and began to put on his jacket.
“Whose?” I asked.
“Yours,” he said with a grin. “And mine.”
I smiled at him. Clearly, we were going to spend a lot of time together and I was happy with that, but I had no idea who any of the people were.
“Are all these people friends?”
“Some yes,” he said. “Mostly they’re business associates and their wives.” He rolled his eyes. “We made such a good team too nights ago, I really like the idea of our spending more time together.”
“We do make a good team,” I agreed. “But time alone might be more fun.”
“Unfortunately, my whole purpose of being in London is business and these engagements were prearranged,” he explained. “I can’t cancel them. If you come, we get to see each other. Besides, I like that I can bring you places. Tatiana didn’t always go over well, especially with wives.” He made a face.
