Cara gulped and closed her eyes. That sounded very much like a threat of the sack. Nothing had changed when she opened them again.
“Mother!” Edgar protested. “Surely if sales figures remain this good, there should be no need for redundancies. Last week, you said the store was experiencing a mere temporary blip.”
Good on Edgar. Dating Maggie must have emboldened him. He’d never spoken back to his mother that way before.
Mrs Pettett pointed a bony finger at him. Weighed down with glittering rings, her boss’s excessive lifestyle made Cara nauseous. Just one ring would put as much back into the pension fund Dad stole as she managed to add in a whole year.
“You convinced me it was more than a blip,” Mrs P bit back at her son. “Don’t tell me you now agree they should give up more publicity, just when things are really getting going?”
Edgar subsided back into his seat. “Well no, I suppose not.”
“It’s decided then. I’ll speak to Nicholas about this. And you, young lady” — her finger moved towards Cara, aiming like a loaded gun — “You will continue with whatever I order you to do, until I tell you to stop. I’ll feed the media photos myself if that’s what it takes. Like making sure that Christmas party photograph was published.”
Mrs Pettett shook her head and pushed her seat back. “That will be all. Meeting over.”
Cara sat in her seat, stunned, as Edgar and the department heads followed Mrs Pettett out of the room.
So Mrs Pettett had leaked that photo. Even though it belittled her own son.
Unbelievable.
Of all the high-handed tyrannical battle-axes….
Cara stopped her thoughts and rubbed tired hands over her face.
She couldn’t afford to lose her job. With the market the way it was, she’d be lucky to find herself stacking supermarket shelves for a fraction of the pay. How would she repay even pennies to the stolen pensions then?
The old lady had her cornered, and knew it.
It wasn’t coincidental later that afternoon when her phone beeped with a text from Nick, asking her to meet him after work, and to dress casual.
Mrs P would have steamrollered him, just as effectively as she’d done with her, whether he wanted to keep seeing her or not. Poor Nick.
All she could hope now was that the truth coming out wouldn’t be as bad as she feared.
Other people knowing couldn’t make the shame and the guilt any worse than it already was. She’d survived it before, she could do it again. She’d manage.
She'd manage her feelings for Nick, too.
What feelings?
See, easy peasy.
She wasn't falling for him. Not one bit. She’d be nuts to let herself.
He certainly wasn’t falling for her. Their meetings weren't dates. Just work. Her secret shame might soon be splashed over all the newspapers. And Nick was leaving, all too soon.
To save her job, she’d keep going with the rest of whatever he had planned.
She owed it to her colleagues.
She owed it to the people her father had betrayed.
That was the only reason she asked the girls in the salons to give her another makeover that afternoon. To look good for the photos, not to look good for Nick.
She only asked Monique to put together another outfit for her so Maggie had clothes to put on the mannequin in her window display tomorrow.
And her heartbeat didn't accelerate when she saw him waiting for her at the staff entrance after work, gorgeous in jeans and a black down coat. Not one bit. It didn’t do a crazy leap when he straightened and his face lit up in a smile as soon as he turned and could see her.
No way. Her heart beat faster because she'd hurried down the stairs, that’s all. What other reason could there be?
“Cara.”
The way he said her name was definitely not a caress.
Because if it was, she had worse things to worry about than losing her job.
Like losing her heart.
Chapter 13
Knowing he’d be with Cara again that evening weakened Nick’s knees. He couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face as she walked toward him at the staff door.
She became more beautiful to him each time he saw her. Today her dark hair curled on her shoulders and a dark rose pink sweater peeked out under her coat.
Cara looked nervous and apologetic, glancing up at him apprehensively. As if she expected he’d be angry with her.
His smile faded, replaced with concern.
“Nick, I’m sorry.” Her lips twisted in an attempt at a smile. “Looks like you’re stuck with me a few days longer.”
“I don’t mind.”
He didn’t mind the dare continuing one bit.
Though he didn’t want her thinking he’d instigated Mrs Pettett’s insistence on that.
No matter how much he wanted it to continue. No matter how much he wished she wanted it, too.
“I’m only sorry that Mrs Pettett bullied you into this,” he said, shaking his head. “I said no. Then she threatened she’d sack you if I didn’t agree. She looked like she meant it, too. I’ve met gangsters who are less ruthless in their blackmail.”
Cara gave a tiny smile at his joke. “I think she’d have the bad guys running scared.”
“Is sacking you even legal in this country? It wouldn’t be in the States.” He shook his head and stepped closer.
“It’s probably not legal here, either. But by the time I found a lawyer to take the case and fought it through the tribunal?” Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “She’s probably right. We can’t afford to stop too soon. More dates equal more publicity, which should equal more sales. So what’s the plan.”
She clutched her coat tight around her, and her voice sounded anything but enthusiastic. Clearly, she was here because she’d been coerced into it, not because she wanted to be with him.
Sagging back against the wall, he ran a hand through his hair. He was scheduled to leave soon. What right did he have to feel such a weight of regret at her lack of enthusiasm? He straightened, forcing a smile.
“Luckily for you, my parents and sisters are coming over for an English Christmas, arriving on Wednesday, so you’ll get a few days off for good behaviour. Mrs Pettett won’t get everything she demands. We’ll have one date tonight, and one tomorrow. My family is set to arrive on Wednesday. You can serve out the rest of your sentence on Sunday once they’ve left for Paris on the train.”
Cara shook her head and looked away to fiddle with the strap of her handbag. He couldn’t see her expression, but he saw her shoulders tense.
Wrong choice of words.
“Cara, that was crass of me. Don’t worry. I doubt your Dad will go to jail.”
“I hope not,” she murmured, then sighed, drooping like a wilted flower.
Again, he had that sense there was far more she wasn’t telling him.
How many secrets was Cara hiding? He felt such a need to know, to comfort her, to make things okay for her.
He stepped closer, close enough to breathe in her honeysuckle perfume. But while he searched for words that wouldn’t make her clam up more, she turned to face him, chin lifted, colour flushing her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I’m making a bigger deal of this than I should. My past isn’t your problem. Your dare has taken on a life of its own and you’ve been bulldozed into continuing. We’ll have to try to make the best of the situation.”
He blew out a long breath and rubbed his stubbled chin. He couldn’t tell her just how much he truly did want to be there with her.
It felt egotistical to even think it, but this was the first time in his life he’d ever liked a girl who showed every sign of not feeling the same. This uncomfortable uncertainty tightening his stomach stung his male pride. Was it ego that made him so determined to get her to enjoy the dates? Was he only interested in Cara because she was a challenge?
Or would he care once his two weeks was up?
Conviction w
hispered that this was more of God’s wake-up call, telling him it was time he stopped relying on looks and charm and did more to help people.
And it seemed he’d been given the job of helping her, as well as the store.
First job, reassure her.
“I don’t feel bulldozed.”
Her lips stretched in a determined smile. “No dates for a few days will suit me fine. I have plenty of things I need to do. So, where are we going tonight?”
Swallowing his disappointment at her reluctance, he put all the warmth he felt for her into his smile.
“Not far. Just up the road. To Hyde Park, for the Winter Wonderland we saw from the boardroom window the first day I was here. Shall we go?”
She ignored the arm he held out to her, stepping toward the street. But not before he’d noticed her blush deepen, and seen her fingers tremble as she buttoned her coat.
“Mac is lined up to take photos again. And the days we don’t have dates, he’ll photograph me with my folks. The girls want to come in and shop. I’ll make sure we still get publicity for the store.”
“I’m sure it will all help. Thank you.”
She asked polite questions about his family as they walked toward the park, but carefully kept a distance between them, making sure they didn’t touch. Her voice almost twanged with tension.
He longed to reach out and hold her hand as they walked. He wanted to tell her everything would be fine, tear apart her fears and see the same girl that had chattered excitedly about helping at the homeless shelter.
But touching her would only drive her further into her shell. He couldn’t risk it.
The Winter Wonderland was a crowded cacophony of Christmas stalls, rides, lights, gift stalls, and food stands, instantly appealing to the Christmas-loving kid in him.
Meaning Cara would hate it, for sure.
“I know it’s very commercial, but it’s fun and a good photo opportunity,” he said. “I’ve been given tickets for the observation wheel.”
That won him a flash of a smile. “I’ve wondered what the view is like from the top,” she admitted. “But what does this have to do with the song?”
He grinned. “Absolutely nothing. Platinum mines come next, and there aren’t any in London. Tonight is just for the publicity, to make Mrs Pettett happy. But I hope it will make you happy too.”
She looked up. For the first time tonight she met his gaze with honest open eyes. “I guess seeing I’m here I should try to enjoy myself, hey? Thank you for going to so much trouble, Nick.”
Her genuine smile warmed him more than hot chocolate would. He touched her cheek with a gentle finger, just a brush. His heart jumped at the contact.
She didn’t pull back, though colour flooded her cheeks, and looked away rather than meeting his gaze.
“It’s no trouble.”
It was the truth. He’d worked harder for Cara than he’d ever worked for any girl, but somehow, he didn’t mind. Being here with her meant far more than going to the glitzy TV network party his agent was pressuring him to attend.
They threaded their way through the noise and crowd to the line of people waiting to ride on the huge wheel.
Cara automatically walked toward the end of the queue.
Their lives were so different. It had been a long time since he’d queued for anything, apart from red carpet entry to the Emmy Awards.
He shook his head and pulled out the VIP guest tickets. “No need to queue.”
The tickets gave them a priority pass to a private glass walled capsule on the wheel. Just the two of them, instead of the eight standing people the capsules normally held. They posed for Mac as they stepped into it, holding flute glasses filled with the sparkling water Nick had ordered instead of champagne.
Probably other photographers had seen them too. More paps were sure to be following them now. Extra publicity for the store, but also more risk of Cara’s past being exposed.
The doors closed, and the wheel began to turn, lifting them slowly into the air. Cara stepped away from him. Alone in the small pod, she turned to him, hands clasped in front of her, her face serious again.
“Nick, I need to tell you how sorry I am about Saturday night. I shouldn’t have accused you of being like my father. And I shouldn’t have insisted on leaving like I did.” Her smile wavered. “I don’t find my past easy to talk about.”
He shook his head. Thinking how tough her dad disappearing must have been for the kid she was back then twisted something inside him.
Not surprising she took life so seriously now.
“The only thing I’m sorry about is that you were so upset. I wish you’d trust me enough to tell me what other secrets you’re worried about. Maybe I could help.”
“You can’t help.” Her voice choked, as if the words were trapped in her throat. “No-one can. But thanks for caring enough to ask.”
She reached out a hand and laid it tentatively on his arm. He covered it with one of his own, and her fingers trembled.
At least she didn’t try to pretend she had no other secrets. But the remorse that shadowed her eyes tore at him.
He pulled in then released a deep breath, but it didn’t relieve the tension knotting his shoulders. The pain she tried to hide caught at his heart in a way he’d never felt before.
Dad had always preached that telling the truth about a secret, getting it out in the open, was the first step to healing. If he could ferret out what hurt her, maybe it would help her to heal.
But he wasn’t half the man Dad was, and he never would be.
If he tried, he could make it even worse for her, or push her further away. And here, in a glass capsule above London with photographers waiting for them at the end of the ride, wasn’t the time or the place for a quarrel, or to upset her.
His job was to make her smile more, not push her to confess what still bothered her. If she ever told him, it would be when she was good and ready, not because he’d hounded her.
Pressing gently on her hand, he changed the subject to what they could see outside, as the wheel lifted them high above the park.
His monologue seemed to do the trick. Her hand stopped trembling, and relaxed on his arm. Soon, she pointed out London landmarks in the carpet of lights in front of them. Some he already knew, like the even bigger wheel of the London Eye they’d seen close up from the River Thames, the glowing oval glass tower of the Gherkin, and the pyramid light marking Canary Wharf.
He stood close behind her, following her pointing finger, inhaling the light floral scent of her hair, wishing he could lean even closer, bury his face in its softness.
She turned to him and their lips were only inches apart.
His breath stopped in his throat as she stared up at him, pupils widening. She couldn’t move away, pressed up against the rail. All he needed to do was bend his head....
He didn’t.
He couldn’t take advantage like that. She wasn’t here through choice, she was here because she’d been blackmailed into it.
Although it was far from being what he wanted to do, he carefully stepped back.
“I just thought.” She laughed, her voice a little breathless and her smile a little shaky. “If they ask why you brought me here, you can always say the city lights shone like platinum.”
Nick felt shaky himself. It took all his acting skills to reply in a normal voice. “Yep. That can be my excuse for not coming up with something more imaginative, and I’ll stick to it.”
Too soon, the ride was over and they were back out in the crowds.
Cara seemed determined to enjoy herself. Almost too determined.
They hammed it up for the camera, letting themselves be photographed eating together from a giant floss of cotton candy, and being thrown into each other’s arms by the tea cup ride.
As Nick’s arm tightened around a laughing Cara, he knew he never wanted to let her go.
But his flight home was exactly two weeks away, and his future after that was uncertain. Lon
g distance relationships never lasted. And what then? He didn’t want to be another man who showed care and then left, like her dad.
What did he have to offer her?
~~+~~
The next evening, Nick tried to start a conversation with Harry, the ex-boxer doorman, while he waited for Cara to finish work. Harry wasn’t budging from his puzzle book, and after only getting a couple of grunted replies, Nick gave up.
That left him with more time to think than he wanted.
Last night, he’d been the one to end the date early.
He had an excuse, he’d already arranged to meet his cousins and some of their friends before Mrs Pettett threw them her curve ball.
True, but the deeper truth was that the date had spooked him, bad.
The way he’d wanted to keep holding her on the ride. The way his heart had skipped beats in a way he’d never believed happened in real life. The way he felt more for her than he’d ever felt for any other woman.
Getting away from her had seemed like the answer.
It hadn’t been. He’d missed her. The whole time he’d been out with Michael and Bronnie, he couldn’t help but wish he was still with Cara.
He’d had fun with them, sure. Ben and his fiance Madeline, Zac and his latest girlfriend Gini, Michael and Bronnie.
And Bronnie’s little sister Suze, home from university. A cute girl, up for a flirtation or something more, all coy glances and fluttering lashes.
But something had been missing.
Cara.
He’d wanted her there with him, in the happy laughing group, as they chatted and drank good coffee together.
Suze might be pretty, but she didn't appeal to him like Cara did.
She didn't hit him in his heart and gut the way Cara did.
She didn’t make him want to sit with his arm around her, feeling her hand resting on his knee, the way Mike and Bronnie had sat together. Not flirting or playing games. Simply together.
He wanted that with Cara.
Somehow, though they'd only known each other a week, she'd gotten under his skin. Cara was more than another instagirlfriend. He was teetering on the edge of falling in love with her.
For a fraction of a second, he’d seriously considered changing his flight home, to stay longer with Cara.
Love In Store Books 1-3: Collection of three sweet and clean Christian romances with a London setting: The Wedding List, Believe in Me, & A Model Bride Page 26
