A Brit Complicated (Castle Calder Book 3)

by Brenda St John Brown

  I have a feeling Tom might not even kiss before the third date.

  “I’m ready to get off the roller coaster and go out with a nice guy. Someone who wants to talk with me instead of only talk me into bed.” Tara’s face screws up and for a second it looks like she’s about to cry. “I want something real with someone who matters.”

  “I understand that, my friend.” I take another swallow of wine before I can say anything more. My weekend with Bradley was the most real thing I’ve had in a long time, but he’s never going to be someone who matters.

  “Maybe it’s time to find you a nice guy, too.” Any trace of tears I thought I saw is gone as Tara bounces up and down on the sofa.

  “No.” The word comes out way louder than I intended it to. “I don’t even have time for a not-nice guy, never mind someone who wants to spend actual time together.”

  “What about the guy from Saturday night? You seemed to have time to spend with him?” Tara looks hopeful rather than judgmental.

  “Yeah, he’s a great distraction, but it’s not a long-term thing.” And not something I want to talk about, especially to a coworker. Even if she is a friend, the whole boss-employee thing demands secrecy. “Tom, however, is a possible long-term thing, so how are you going to play it? Are you going to ask him out or–”

  “I don’t know. What do you think? Would he be cool with that?”

  “Are you kidding? Were you paying attention when I said he’s had a thing for you? I’m pretty sure he’d be thrilled.” Except he said he was moving on. But that was on the heels of Tara fangirling over Greyson, and if she was genuinely interested in him…

  “So do you think it would be better if I asked him to lunch or dinner?” Tara settles back on the couch and takes a big bite of pizza.

  “Dinner. Take him to that opera place over in Bayswater. It’s the kind of place you go with a date and it makes a statement. Plus, I can see Tom getting a real kick out of it.” The thought makes me smile. I’d be tempted to take Tom there myself to thank him for putting up with me all these months. Except for the date thing. Tom and I would both think that was weird.

  “That’s a great idea.” Tara giggles. “See? This is why you need a boyfriend. You think of the best places. Maybe you should take your Saturday-night shag there?”

  For a second I let myself imagine Bradley in a restaurant where the whole staff sings opera. A week ago, I would have said no way, but now? Maybe? The version of Bradley I’ve seen outside the office would probably even enjoy it. To Tara I say, “How about no? So when are you going to ask him?”

  “Tomorrow? Should I ask him out for Friday night, do you think? He’s going to New York tomorrow, but will be back Friday morning. That way if it goes well, we can go out again on the weekend?”

  I nod. “Go for it. Maybe see if you can get a table first? It’s popular and it might book up.”

  Tara leaps from the couch before I even finish speaking and grabs her mobile from her back pocket. “You’re cooking with gas. I’m going to call, but don’t go anywhere. I want to practice asking him with you.”

  “Of course.” I lower my voice. “Why, Tara, you’re looking super hot today. What can I help you with?”

  “Oh, God. I’m going to need some more wine for this.” Tara giggles and makes a face. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  I reach for another slice of pizza and yell after Tara’s back. “You can call in front of me. I promise to behave.”

  Tara laughs from her bedroom down the hall. “Not taking any chances.”

  I chuckle, too, remembering the time I made her laugh so hard when calling for pizza that she had to hang up and call back four times, laughing harder every time. The company threatened to report her for harassment and since then, she’s refused to make a call with me in the room.

  With Tara gone I reach down and slip my mobile from my bag. I’ve got a text from Bea and another from my dad. Bea’s sent a picture of Jasper with a huge bowl of spaghetti in front of him and her text says: Trying out the new Italian down the street. So good, but would be better if you were here. Also, Jasper won’t split an order of calamari with me. Spoilsport. Xx

  I smile and click on my dad’s message. Don’t be alarmed, but your mum’s had a bit of a fall. She’s in hospital for observation overnight and should be home tomorrow. Wanted to let you know. Xx

  It’s my turn to jump from the couch. Don’t be alarmed, but your mother’s in the hospital? What the hell, Dad? I press the little phone icon and pray my dad doesn’t have his phone off in the hospital. He’s a rule follower like that.

  He answers on the second ring. “Scarlett, I said don’t be alarmed.”

  I shake my head. “What happened? Why are you texting me instead of phoning? If it’s not that bad, why are they keeping her in?”

  “Your mum took a quite a tumble down the stairs and they want to make sure she’s not done serious damage. At the minute, they think it’s just a broken collarbone.” Dad’s voice is calm.

  Pretty much the opposite of mine. “Just a broken collarbone? Dad, that’s a lot!”

  “And she sprained her wrist, but she was quite lucky. She couldn’t see over the pile of bedding she was carrying, so it could have been a lot worse when you think about it.” Dad sounds a little less calm when he says this. My mum is his rock and if anything ever happened to her…

  But something has happened to her and that decides it for me. “I’m going to come home. I’ll look into trains and text you.”

  “Scarlett, there aren’t going to be any trains at this time of night. Your mother’s resting comfortably and she’d be more upset knowing you were rushing up here to see her.” Dad’s put on his lawyer voice. At least I think it’s his lawyer voice. I’ve never seen him in action, but he’s kept a few key clients since he and Mum have taken over Castle Calder and I’ve heard him on the phone sounding all reassuring and unruffled.

  I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s almost 9:30, so Dad’s right about the trains. If I had a car, though…

  “I’m coming. If I can’t leave tonight, I’ll leave first thing in the morning. Are you staying at the hospital tonight?”

  “Yes. I’m going to nip home for a few things and then head back. The nurses have said I can stay, even though it’s against the rules.”

  Of course the nurses have said Dad could stay. He could charm the habit off a nun and make her believe it was all her idea. My mind is racing too fast for me to even think of something sarcastic. “Okay. Keep your phone on and I’ll text you and let you know when I’ll be there.”

  Dad sighs into the phone and agrees. I hang up as Tara comes back into the room. Her smile fades as she says, “What’s wrong?”

  I’ll explain it all in a minute, but the most pressing question is the one that comes out of my mouth. “Who do we know with a car?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Greyson and Claire are in the south of France. With his car. Greyson offers to rent me a car, but if it were that easy, I’d do it myself. But, bloody hell, it’s going to be difficult to rent a car with a suspended license. Mum said I’d regret not taking the speed awareness course to reduce the number of points on my license and it annoys the crap out of me that she was right. It also annoys the crap out of me how few people I know in London with a car.

  “Train times aren’t great,” Tara says, glancing up from her laptop. “The earliest is at 6:45, but it has two changes and doesn’t get in until 11:30. Or you can take an eight o’clock and get in at 11:30.”

  “11:30 tomorrow morning is the earliest I can get there?” I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my knuckles into my forehead. “I’m going to call Tom. Maybe he knows someone.”

  Tom answers on the fourth ring and I’m aware of Tara watching me, like a puppy eyeing a kid eating a burger. “If you’re calling about fabric, I’m off the clock.”

  I bark out a hollow laugh. “I wish. I’m calling to see if you know anyone with a car. My mum’s taken a fall and
is in the hospital and I’m trying to get there before midday tomorrow. I’d love to borrow a car, but technically I’m not supposed to be driving, so…”

  “Is your mom okay?” I imagine Tom sitting up straighter.

  “According to my dad, yes. But she’s in the hospital and she’s broken her collarbone, so she’s not that okay.” My voice wobbles a little. I teared up on FaceTime with Claire and Greyson, so this is progress. Because, yeah, my mum is my dad’s rock, but she’s mine, too.

  “Let me think. Let me think.” Tom says this almost to himself. Then his voice brightens as he says, “Brad has a car.”

  Shit. Of course he does. “Um…”

  “I doubt he’d lend it to you, and doubly so if you’re not supposed to be driving.” Tom pauses. “At the very least I’m sure he’d help to arrange a car for you. You could call him and ask, or I can get in touch with him if you want?”

  Yes. Yes, I want you to very much. But that’s such a chicken-shit thing to do I can’t even say it. “No. I’ll ask him. I mean, I guess I need to ask for the days off too.”

  “Don’t worry about that. It won’t be a problem.” Tom says this like he has firsthand experience, but I don’t have it in me to ask right now. “Do you have his cell? It’s on the company contact list?”

  The company contact list is a good idea in theory. In practice? It’s shoved in my desk drawer. I might have even binned it. I shake my head, even though Tom can’t see me. “I don’t think so.”

  Tom sighs loud enough for me to hear him and says, “I’ll text you his contact info.” He pauses. “Let me know if you need anything at all, and I hope everything’s okay with your mom.”

  “Thanks, Tom. You’re the best.” I hang up and my phone dings with his text as I look up at Tara’s expectant face.

  “Anything?” she asks.

  “He said Bradley has a car and even though he probably won’t lend it to me, he might have an idea.” I shake my head, but it’s more for effect. My pulse does the samba in my chest at the prospect of calling him, period. Never mind asking him for a favor. “Do you think I can text him?”

  “No.” Tara reaches for her phone. “Do you need his mobile number? I have the contact list.”

  I smile a little. “Of course you do. Tom’s just texted it to me.”

  “Mr. Walking-Sex is a decent guy, you know. He’ll probably offer to drive you there himself.”

  Oh my God. My stomach nosedives because that seems far more probable than any other option, even if my driving license was valid. “I’m not sure we’d survive a four-hour car journey.”

  Tara wriggles her eyebrows. “I’m sure you could think of some way to pass the time.”

  Bradley’s yellow tie comes to mind and I push it away, pretend-glaring at Tara. “And on that note, I’m going to make this call from the privacy of my room. The last thing I need is you leering at me.”

  Or overhearing. Because even though I’m nervous about asking Bradley to borrow his car – or worse, having him offer to drive me to Castle Calder – I’m more nervous about Tara figuring out that my relationship with him isn’t quite as distant as it used to be.

  “Come on, let me listen in. I promise I’ll be good,” Tara calls down the hall after me.

  “No chance,” I yell back as I close my bedroom door behind me.

  My phone buzzes in my hand and I glance at the screen. Back at the hospital. Mum is fine, so please don’t worry. Lou has everything under control at the house. Dad xxx

  Dad’s text makes me smile because, first and foremost, Castle Calder is home. Granted, it’s a home we share with a regular rotation of paying guests, but our little family apartment is a gem. Just like Lou, who has been working for my parents since they opened the hotel. She’s like a favorite aunt and bossy big sister with a touch of stern mum to all of us, and it’s no stretch to say my parents would be lost without her.

  Knowing she has everything under control makes me feel better, but she can’t run the show by herself. Even if Mum ends up being fine, an extra pair of hands picking up the slack at Castle Calder wouldn’t be the worst thing. Meaning that call to Bradley still needs to happen.

  I sink down on my bed and click on Tom’s text, staring at Bradley’s number for a good thirty seconds. I’ve never called or texted him and the timing – that I’m doing it after we’ve slept together – makes me wonder if it’s going to look needy. Even though I would have asked him for this favor before. I would have made the call already and instead I’m wasting valuable time second-guessing a reaction I can’t predict. Smack my damn head. Twice.

  I stab at the number with my index finger, digging my fingernails into the palm that doesn’t hold a death grip on my phone. God, this is a bad idea. In the history of all my bad ideas, this one…

  “Scarlett?” Bradley’s voice is deep and the sound of traffic rumbles in the background.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” I start.

  “It’s no bother. I’m just walking home.” Bradley’s voice is easy and as he continues I swear I hear a smile there. “I was thinking about you, in fact.”

  Any other day – and I do mean any other day – I’d take that as the invitation it is. But not today. “I’m in a bit of a bind and I’m hoping you can help me.”

  “Of course. What is it?” Bradley’s tone morphs into business-like and I spend the next twenty seconds explaining. I don’t even get to mention my sketchy driving situation before he says, “I’ll take you.”

  My grip loosens on my phone and my shoulders sink into my pillow. I let my eyes close for a second, then say, “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Text me your address. I’ll be home in a few minutes, then I’ll get changed and pick you up.”

  “My parents live in the Lake District. It’s at least a four-hour journey.” More like five or six, but at this time of night, traffic should be minimal.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can so we can get on the road.” Bradley’s tone is still unemotional, but I swear I hear his breathing accelerate like he’s walking faster.

  “I didn’t mean that. I just meant it’s a long way and I don’t want you to feel obligated to take me because–” We’re sleeping together? To even mention our involvement makes it sound like more than it is. “I know you’re very busy.”

  “Some things are more important than work.” Bradley says this in the same tone, but it hits me differently. Before I can think about it, though, he says, “I’ll need to be back by tomorrow afternoon, but of course take as long as you need with your family.”

  Another wave of relief washes over me. This one a thousand percent related to the fact that I won’t have to juggle Bradley for long around my family or Lou. The fewer awkward questions, the better. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “I’m not the ogre you make me out to be.” Bradley’s voice drops. “I’d thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

  Does he sound hurt? “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Bradley cuts me off before I can get my apology out. “As I’ve said before, I may not be as easygoing as you are, but I care very much about my employees.”

  Right. He’d do the same for Tom or Len or Tara. I bite my lip and nod. “Of course. As I said, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  If Bradley notices the change in my tone, he gives no indication as he assures me he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes before hanging up. I jump off my bed and pull my suitcase from the wardrobe, doing my best to ignore the dull roar in my head.

  I let myself give into it for as long as it takes to slam my case onto my bed. Employee? Really? How many of his employees has he fucked on his dining table, I wonder?

  That’s when the fight goes out of me as quickly as it arose. Bradley’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss who I’m shagging. Or have shagged. I’m not even sure which tense to use because I don’t think the past three days are anything to base future assumptions on. However, he’s also my boss who’s being nice enough t
o take me to Castle Calder in the absence of other viable options. Which means he’s a decent human being, at the very least.

  This assumption bothers me way more than the shagging.

  I yank open the door to my room and stride down the hallway to the living room, pausing in the doorway with my hands on my hips. When Tara looks up, I say, “Bradley Walking-Sex is going to be here in thirty minutes. He’s driving me to Castle Calder. Don’t make a smart remark or I’ll kill you.”

  Tara grins. “That’s very generous of him.”

  I keep a straight face. “I know. What if he’s a nice guy?”

  Tara furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

  I can’t share half the thoughts that are swirling around in my head, but even if I could, I’m not sure I could articulate them. I say, “I don’t know. But most of my interaction with him has been based on thinking he’s a twat and what if he’s not?”

  Tara’s grin grows. “Sex with him becomes a more attractive prospect?”

  I offer a weak smile and roll my eyes, but it’s just for show. Because judging by the lurch in my stomach, Tara hit the nail on the head. And it’s a problem.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  True to form, Bradley is prompt.

  Also true to form, he’s hot.

  Dressed in black tracksuit bottoms that hug his bum, a soft-looking light blue T-shirt, and a black nylon windbreaker with a Nike swoosh across the chest, he looks both ready and able to run to the Lake District. I know he goes to the gym almost every afternoon – I’ve seen the benefits of that firsthand – but seeing him in actual sports clothes, his hair tousled a little from the wind, he looks fit as hell. Talk about Walking-Sex.

  Something Tara’s not overlooked, judging by the wide-eyed look she shot me when Bradley walked through the door. At the minute, they’re standing in the living room talking while I shove knickers in my suitcase and scan my dresser for anything I might have forgotten. I can borrow from Mum, but she gets touchy if I start helping myself to her make-up or hairbrush.