by Mandy Baggot
He smiled and took hold of Maddie’s hand. Externally, Christmas was all around, but within their family there appeared to be a lot of thawing still to do.
Fifteen
Breekers London, Canary Wharf
Signalling problems on the Central line again!! Won’t be able to make it to walk Hannah. Sorry! Poppy x
Poppy’s text message had just arrived on Isla’s phone seconds before she was about to phone the girl to ask where she was. But, despite knowing she couldn’t be late for work a second time this week, Isla didn’t panic. She flew into an organisation whirlwind like a festive Mary Poppins under the influence of Red Bull. Hannah was helped to dress, her sister’s day bag packed and hung on Ronnie, make-up wafted over her own face, non-laddered tights pulled on under the pantsuit that was hopefully going to make Chase Bryan forget all about the insanity of the previous day. Then she’d power-walked Hannah to work and sprinted to the Tube, off the Tube and up too many steps to count.
And now she was here. Rosy-cheeked, her red hair stuck to her face in a snow and icy wind combo, with precisely eleven minutes to cool down, calm down and mentally prepare. Inhaling oxygen mixed with the scent of peppermint, fir trees and businessmen, she pushed open the door to the building.
‘And here she is!’
It was Aaron, standing in reception, as if he was waiting for her. Isla checked her watch again. It was working, wasn’t it? She was early, wasn’t she?
‘Hello,’ Isla began tentatively, stepping into the area.
Denise was leaning over her reception desk, fully made-up like she was about to enter a Miss World pageant, or work on the beauty counter at Debenhams. Even the Christmas tree looked somehow slightly sparklier.
‘He’s here!’ Aaron breathed, all gaspy the way he had been when they’d employed a young, firm postboy with a look of Brandon Flowers. ‘Chase Bryan.’
‘He’s gorgeous,’ Denise added. ‘Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.’ She put her hands to her heart and inhaled. ‘If I was still young enough to have babies I would want them to be his … in fact, I might just adopt his kids because they’re gorgeous too.’
Oh no! This was even worse. His girls were here. The same girls who had witnessed her display of ridiculousness at Sugar High.
‘Sugar. Honey. Ice Tea. Did you not put on make-up today?’
The question came from Aaron and suddenly he was scrutinising her like she had developed crow’s feet overnight.
‘What’s wrong with you two?’ Isla asked. ‘Haven’t you got work to do?’ She needed to ignore this mad display of fuss over the New York newcomer who, she had decided, had obviously ousted the lovely Big Bill. She had a hospital project to oversee and the Christmas party to finalise – although using the word finalise was slightly ambitious. But she would be brazen. She would head to her desk, figure out the lay of the land, and then she would face this head on. It was sounding so easy in her head but the thought of facing this man again and overcoming ultra-embarrassment was making her legs wobble a bit.
Aaron followed her to the lifts. ‘His suit is made-to-measure and I mean, made-to-fucking-measure.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘Thighs like two large hams and an arse like—’
She wasn’t sure she could handle another butt simile. ‘Aaron, where is Mr Bryan right now?’ She pressed for the lift.
‘Robert took him up to our floor. Gave him the whole royal treatment just like when we had Richard Branson in here.’
Isla shook her head. ‘He didn’t get out that horrible red carpet, did he?’
Aaron laughed. ‘No, darling, thank God!’ He used the stainless steel of the lift door to check his reflection and began straightening his tie. ‘But it was all handshakes and back-patting and business speak. You know, hymn sheet, blue sky, same page, teamwork, the best version of yourself – that last one is a personal favourite.’
Isla rolled her eyes. Big Bill had never visited the London office and she now felt aggrieved on his behalf for not having this kind of special treatment. As the doors opened she steeled herself. She had to remember a couple of things before she was face-to-face with Chase Bryan again. One: she desperately needed to keep this job. And two: his elder daughter had a video she had been all too keen to upload to YouTube last night. And, seeing as there was a lot of movement – hair whipping, finger-pointing and shouting – it had the potential to go more viral than the best amateur attempt at JuJu on that Beat.
Sixteen
Chase’s jetlag was hitting him full force. Right now. At the most inconvenient point when all these people – he’d had to estimate at sixteen – were talking at him. And the boardroom chairs were easily the most uncomfortable things he had ever sat in. Worse than the chair in his suite.
While one of the men went through a slideshow of projects the London company had delivered on, he took a sideways glance at his daughters. They had hastily been found temporary chairs in the corner of the room next to the heater. Maddie had set her gloves and hat on top of it to dry and now had her eyes closed, mouth open, seemingly asleep. Brooke was on her phone, eyes on the screen, until she saw him looking, then she delivered a killer glance of disdain.
‘We cannot tell you how wonderful it is to have you here and we are so looking forward to hearing all about the new project we’re going to be collaborating on.’
Everyone at the table started to clap and Chase wasn’t sure how to respond. Boy, they did things differently this side of the Atlantic. He smiled, trying hard to make it look authentic. It wasn’t that he wasn’t excited about the super-hotel, he was, it was just his body was still on that jumbo jet and his head was swimming with thoughts of the girls, his ex-wife, Colt …
Bristling over that last thought, he stood up. There was only one way forward. Dive in. Take control. No thinking back.
‘Thank you,’ he started, once the applause had died down. ‘Thank you all so much for this splendid welcome.’ He smiled. ‘I’m already getting there with the language, right?’ The titters of amusement that followed pleased him. He was striking the right chord. ‘Now, today I was going to set a time for announcing the new Breekers International plans as I know y’all are going to be super-hyped – that is …’ He cleared his throat and made an adjustment to his collar. ‘Jolly excited about what we have in store. So …’ He looked at his watch, more as a chance to pause and think what he was going to do with the children. ‘How does this afternoon sound? Say, 2 p.m.?’
There was a general sound of concurrence and then the guy who had pumped his hand to death in the lobby and seemed to be in charge around here – he really should have paid more attention to his background file on the plane – stood up.
‘Excellent, Mr Bryan. Two o’clock it is.’
‘Please,’ Chase interjected. ‘Call me Chase.’
‘Very good, sir,’ the man answered. ‘So, now, why don’t I introduce you to the lady who is going to be your personal assistant during your stay. She’s one of our brightest employees, has worked her way up through the company and is now in charge of people management, troubleshooting and special projects—’
‘Actually,’ he interrupted. ‘Could I have the room right now?’
‘Have the room?’ the guy asked, looking a little confused.
‘Just for a minute …’ Chase lowered his voice. ‘With my daughters.’
‘But of course! My apologies.’ He began to back away, almost bowing like Chase was a member of a Saudi Arabian royal family.
As soon as the door was closed Chase turned to Maddie and Brooke. Maddie was definitely asleep and Brooke had her buckle-covered booted foot up on the windowsill, eyes on the outside. He took steps towards them, looking out the window at the London skyline. Through the driving snow there were office towers like in Manhattan but on a much smaller scale. And while the architecture of the Chrysler Building and the Empire State was certainly iconic, London’s Shard and Gherkin had their own unique vibe going on. London also had history, stacks of it, and interspersed between the high-ri
ses and the modern were the ancient and historic. That’s what he needed to factor in with this hotel. Somehow, he needed to make it contemporary and historic. A singular, idiosyncratic flagship.
‘Can we get out of here?’
Brooke’s question drew him back into the room and he turned to face her. ‘Honey, I’m going to be here the whole day, you know that.’
‘So, what are we meant to do? Just sit here like freaking jerks?’
Gone were the days when they would both be content with paper and crayons. And he didn’t have an answer. Why hadn’t he considered a nanny? Yes, that was it. He would look up an agency online and get someone over here. She – or he – could take them out someplace.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m right on it.’ He took his phone out of his pants and began to google.
‘Finding someone you can pay to mind us?’ Brooke guessed. Her foot came down from the windowsill, knocking into Maddie’s chair and roughly waking her up.
There was a knock on the door.
Isla couldn’t think of a more embarrassing scenario. Not even the time she had got a ring stuck on her finger at one of the many little antique jewellery shops in Portobello Road when she was eleven and her mum had told her not to touch anything.
Through the partially opaque glass of the boardroom door she could see Chase Bryan and his two daughters across the room and her stomach started making motions like it was trying to break down a particularly spicy jalfrezi. This was about to be the moment. The moment he realised he was going to be pushed towards an assistant who had verbally abused him and the moment he demanded someone more suitable, told Robert everything that had gone down over Christmas muffins, and she was fired. A professional life looking at the arrivals and departures board at Waterloo …
As Robert pushed at the door she thought about the white, feathery, stupidly expensive Christmas tree in the shop window she had desperately wanted to buy for Hannah. She needed to get back to being the realist she usually was, because the moment you took your eye off the ball, you insulted the head of your company in the worst possible way.
‘Mr Bryan … Chase,’ Robert greeted as he stepped into the room. ‘This is Isla Winters.’
She shuffled in, using Robert like a human shield, waiting for the explosion. She held her breath … still waiting the onslaught … Why was nothing being said? She inched her head out in an emu-esque fashion, looking beyond Robert’s right shoulder. Chase Bryan was eyes down, concentrating on his mobile phone.
‘Mr Bryan?’ Robert began again.
Chase looked up then and Isla darted behind her boss again, neck retracting – more agile swan this time.
‘Let me introduce Isla Winters,’ Robert continued. ‘She will be on call for you while you’re in London.’
There was no hiding now. She had to just face the music … and with swagger.
Isla sashayed out from behind Robert like she was performing a Strictly rumba move. ‘Good morning, Mr Bryan.’
What was happening? It was the woman from the café yesterday. The one who had wanted to call the police. The one who had crazy-hot red hair and was wearing a rather appealing pantsuit that was making the very best of her figure. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. Jeez, what had happened to him on that flight? It seemed he had lost focus, direction and the ability to make any sense of situations he was usually all over.
‘Hey,’ he greeted. Hey? Was he back on the ice rink? ‘Good morning, Ms …’
‘Miss,’ Isla corrected. ‘Miss Winters. Isla.’
‘Chase,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘But, you already knew that.’
He watched her cheeks colour up a little, clashing with that hair. And that accent, now she was talking rather than shouting, was adorable.
‘Right, I will leave you two to get acquainted then.’ The guy whose name he couldn’t remember headed towards the door. ‘Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.’
‘I sure will,’ Chase answered, waving a hand.
The door closed and they were left alone, apart from his two girls staring at them from the corner of the room.
He looked directly at Isla. ‘Look, as I already know you’ve got my kids’ best interests at heart, how do you feel about spending some more time with them?’
Seventeen
He wanted her to be a nanny. Isla should have guessed that from the moment she’d known he had children accompanying him. She was a woman. She was his Go-To Girl for everything while he was in the UK. It stood to reason that was all he thought her capable of. The only help she would be qualified for giving him, while he was overseeing whatever project he had been sent here to direct, would involve entertaining juveniles.
‘I think we need to start with a clean slate,’ Isla said, putting the leather-bound executive folder she was carrying on the boardroom table.
‘A what now?’ Chase inquired.
She breathed deeply. ‘I know that yesterday will have blighted your opinion of me, but I want you to know how deeply I regret my actions, my inference, or any defamation of your character that may have occurred.’
‘Daddy? What’s defecation?’ Maddie piped up.
Isla’s hands went to her mouth in horror. She hadn’t said that, had she? Shit! Yes, that exactly. Was everything involving this American set to go down this way?
‘Miss Winters said “defamation”, Maddie,’ Chase answered. ‘It means saying things about someone that aren’t true and ruining their reputation.’
Yes. Yes it did. And that’s what she had done. Maybe she should just suck up the nanny duties and be glad that he still needed her at the company at all … for now.
‘Like when everyone in the news said that Donald Trump liked to squeeze women’s—’
‘Kinda,’ Chase interrupted quickly. ‘Kinda like that.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And it’s just not nice to say things about other people like that.’
‘Unless the rumours are true and you can use it to your advantage,’ Isla added. ‘Then it might be the difference between getting a contract or missing out to a competitor.’
There. That should prove there was more to her than child-minding. Chase turned then, ridiculously chocolate-coloured eyes scrutinising her and her bluster was squashed slightly. She had to remember that as irritating as it was for her schedule to be disrupted this close to Christmas, he was the CEO of the whole company. If there was one person you had to suck up to it was him, and she had got off to the very worst beginning.
‘What projects are you currently working on?’ he asked her.
‘Yadda, yadda, yadda,’ Brooke broke in. ‘One step away from talking about mortar and girders.’ She put both her feet on the windowsill.
‘Ridgepoint Hospital on the outskirts of north London,’ Isla began. ‘A shopping centre, provisionally called Sovereign Gate on the site of an old seventies building that’s set to be demolished and … the Breekers London Christmas party.’
‘Okay,’ Chase answered, nodding. ‘And exactly what is it that you do?’ He pulled out a chair and she found herself gravitating towards it. She consciously stopped herself from moving. He was trying to ‘coach’ her into sitting in it. That’s what these people did. Led you into decisions you thought you’d made yourself.
‘I think Robert told you what I do.’ If he had actually been listening while he was looking at his phone. She swallowed. It was best to keep that thought in her brain rather than letting it leave her lips.
‘I heard him say something about “people management” and “trouble-shooting”.’ He leaned against the table, the movement causing the suit trousers to tighten on his thighs. Damn Aaron and his comments about large hams. They did look exceedingly muscular.
‘And that’s what I do,’ Isla answered.
‘So,’ he said on an out-breath. ‘You’re a secretary.’
He was testing her. As her blood temperature began to heat up to the level of perfection for Campbell’s soup she maintained the smile on her face. She need
ed the salary to pay bills and to cover Christmas … the beautiful tree, the baking ingredients, presents for everyone who had helped Hannah at Life Start.
‘I’m just playing with you,’ Chase said, clapping his hands together. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being a secretary. And where would we be without Xeroxing, right?’
She held on to the smile, secretly wishing she could punch those stupidly full lips no matter how attractive. ‘Oh, I’d say probably stuck in the eighties.’
‘Touché,’ he replied.
There was a hint of a smile on that mouth now and those eyes seemed to be warming. There was no way her sister was going to get anywhere near him again. This was not the man Hannah would be sharing her perfect Notting Hill kiss with. This man was a cad.
‘Still here,’ Brooke announced. ‘Still bored.’
‘Okay,’ Chase said, slipping back off the table. ‘Let’s all get out of here.’
‘Really?’ Maddie exclaimed, jumping off her chair and snatching up her hat and gloves.
‘Going into another boardroom?’ Brooke inquired. ‘As in b-o-r-e-d room?’
‘No,’ Chase said. ‘Miss Winters is gonna show us around.’ He stretched his arms above his head and gave a yawn. ‘I want to get a real feel for some of the places.’
‘And cake,’ Maddie said excitedly. ‘We need more cake.’
‘I … can’t go out,’ Isla announced. She had work to do. She had thought he would maybe give her some tasks, phone calls, emails. She could tick them off while minding his children, if that was part of the remit, then she would be free to get on with her own business. Projects she had started and intended to finish. The beautiful party that wouldn’t be beautiful if she didn’t constantly primp it.
‘Sure you can,’ Chase answered. ‘I thought the guy – what was his name again?’
