Instead, I kissed him, trailing my tongue down to the hollow at his throat. He growled in my ear.
“Are you sure you’re busy tonight?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I laughed.
“I suppose I should get some paperwork done anyway,” he grumbled, “and I think Tobe is feeling neglected.”
“Ahh. Have I made you miss face mask and chick flick night?”
“Worse. Steak and poker night.”
“Sounds like my old job.” I giggled.
He prodded me gently in the ribs, looking wounded.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said quickly.
“It’s okay. But talking like that to a man who can’t have you is very, very mean.”
I dug out my phone and checked the time. Ugh, not long to get ready at all. “I have to jump into the shower or Clem will send out a search party. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Mmph… If you insist.” He pecked me on the lips one last time and withdrew, digging his iPod out of his pocket. “Have a good night, babe.”
“You too.”
I watched him spring back down the stairs, and then hurried in to get ready.
The sun had begun to set as I tottered out on my prettiest heels–Russell and Bromley, forever in my heart–and the air had cool teeth. I’d toyed with the idea of wearing the silky blue dress that Charlie had first seduced me in–I still owned it–but it would give rather the wrong impression. Instead, I threw on trousers and a tight little jumper with puffed Victorian sleeves.
Charlie was installed in a booth at the hotel bar, an open bottle of wine breathing beside him. He wore his old brown leather blazer and my nostrils were suddenly full of its earthy smell. He smiled when he looked up, closing his book.
“What are you reading?” I’d barely sat down, but already fought the urge to play with my hair.
He held it up. “American Psycho. It’s rather grating, actually.” Wine spewed into a long-stemmed glass as he poured. “Have you read it?”
“A long time ago. I liked it.” I wrinkled my nose. “Well, apart from the bloodthirsty rampages. Patrick and his...urges...not exactly my fetish of choice.”
“I know,” he said, eyes shining. “Too weak for a thing like you.”
The wine was thick on my tongue and I nodded my approval. Every time he opened his mouth, my nerves split. It had been a long time since we’d indulged in one of our clandestine little meetings and a riot of memories shrieked in my ear.
“So,” he said, leaning back and folding his arms.
“You’re an arse,” I said.
“You did say you weren’t with him,” he shrugged. “Besides, Leila. Give me a little credit for knowing you. He’s not really your type. I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that–”
“What do you mean, not my type?”
“I just wouldn’t have put the pair of you together, that’s all.” His expression mellowed. “I don’t mean to be patronizing. You know I want you to be happy. Both of you.”
“Charlie.” I leaned in a little. “Does she know about me? Your wife, I mean. Does she know who I am?”
“In all honesty? I can’t say for sure. When she and I first met, she would read my emails sometimes. She read more than one from you.”
I cringed. “One with photos…?”
“Yes. Several, probably.”
“I can’t believe you showed those to anyone! They were personal. I trusted you with them–”
He held up a hand. “I didn’t ask her to read them, okay? She went behind my back.” He paused. “She was very paranoid in the beginning.”
“She was the one cheating, not you,” I muttered.
“Either way…I’m sorry. She might recognize you, she might not, but she wouldn’t be very fond of you if she did.”
“Could you maybe talk to her, ask her not to tell Matt?”
Laughter spilled from his mouth in sarcastic little lumps. “You haven’t met Libby, have you? She’s very close to Matt and Toby. I wouldn’t have a hope in hell.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry, Leila. Really, I am.”
“Well, isn’t that fucking brilliant.”
Charlie eyed me anxiously. “Are you going to tell him about us?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice cracking. “Probably. Better for him to hear it from me than his mother, I suppose.” If he still wanted me after he heard about Joseph’s plans.
“He hates me as it is.” There was more than a flicker of mourning in Charlie’s tone. “I suppose it won’t make much difference.”
“Did you really steal his mum away?”
“I wasn’t her first affair, if that’s what you’re asking. She and Nate had been in trouble for a long time. They had the twins and that didn’t make things any better…and then I came along.”
“I never did think you’d get married.” I smiled at him ruefully. “I mean, you seemed happy as you were.”
“With you in my bed, I was very happy,” he said softly, “but that was never going to last, was it?”
I cocked my head. “I don’t know.”
“I asked you to marry me more than once.”
I rolled my eyes. “You were joking, Charlie.”
“Only a little bit.”
“Oh.” Blood rushed to my cheeks. “You should’ve made that more clear, then.”
A sigh ruffled the pages of his book. “Would you have said yes?”
“Well…probably not, no. But it would have been nice.”
“To reject me? Cheers.” He laughed.
I kicked him under the table. “You know what I mean.”
“So...you’re serious about Matt?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “Why do you say he isn’t my type?”
He pawed the back of his neck; these words were chosen carefully. “I don’t mean this in a bad way. I know you, Leila. There are men with certain appetites and then there are men who…who are better suited to you. He’s the former.”
“I don’t get what you mean.”
“You probably won’t. Not for a while.”
“You sound like such a bossy–” I glanced up at him and was catapulted back to all the moments I came, writhing in his arms and crying out for Sir. Oh God. Eyes glazed, fists balled–he thought it, too. “Not everything in a relationship is about sex,” I said quietly.
“That’s not entirely true. Especially not for people like me and you.” He reached out and touched my arm. He may as well have set it alight and it snatched itself away, landing in my lap roughly.
“Then how do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Be married. Be with one person. Be around other people you like and not find yourself naked with them.” I couldn’t look at him. “I can’t imagine what that would be like…I’m never going to have it, am I?”
“Not with a boy like Matt, no.”
The tears came rushing in like they were at war with my eyeballs and I hid behind my hands, rocking.
Charlie eased over in his chair and put his arm around me. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you–”
“It’s okay.” I sniffed. “I think this has been coming on for a while.”
“I’m not trying to be an arse. I know it’d make my own life easier if you weren’t with Matt–obviously–but I wouldn’t say this stuff if I didn’t believe it.”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I know. I look ridiculous, don’t I?”
A smile crossed his lips. The knives wilted like the flowers they pretended to be. “Don’t be silly. You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“And what’s all this about never getting married? You’re twenty-five, for crying out loud. You’ve got decades to settle down.”
If he knew about the Charlotte he had crafted with those skilled hands…would he still say the same thing?
“If I can settle down.”
He stroked my hair gently and I leaned in to him. “You’ll find someone like
you. Someone who understands everything that you’re worried about.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I could have understood. I did. And God knows, there are better men than me.” There was a note of bitterness beneath the sympathy and I suddenly felt very sad for him.
“Worse ones, too.”
“Well, yes.” He released me slowly. “Now, I’m going to move back around the table before I irrevocably fuck my marriage.”
I shot him a tear-stained grin. “Like I’d screw an antique like you.”
“You’re not too old to be spanked, you know.”
The atmosphere swelling around us went sharp and hot. I know he felt it. We had never been exactly friends or exactly together, and would always fall into the abyss between where a touch is loaded with everything and nothing, and kisses lie beyond lips, beckoning curious tongues. A dangerous place to be. I liked it far more than I should. Ugh…I hated it when Clemmie was right.
Charlie gestured to his watch reluctantly. “I need to dash in a bit.”
“We’ve done a poor state of justice to that wine.”
He looked me in the eye sharply. “Probably wise.”
“True.”
As we walked into the street, a dusty skyline curved below the emerging moon. I turned to brush a kiss on his collarbone.
“Take care, little one,” he said softly.
“Yes, Sir.”
I shot a smile over my shoulder as I stalked off, shuddering as the words rushed over me.
Whenever I looked back, he still watched me.
* * * *
Before long, my sadness over Charlie’s words turned to anger. I scraped my heels against the stairs as I climbed them, rammed the key into the lock. The thick slam of the door still rang in my ears as I gave in to the trembles and the tears all over, and I curled up in a ball against the sofa, indulging each miserable epiphany with an amplified sob.
Who was he to say that Matt and I weren’t compatible? We had a great time together. We laughed and talked. He was coming around to my past as an immoral whore and he did wonderful things to me naked. Or clothed. Wonderful things full stop.
Yes, we argued. Inevitable, considering the circumstances–right? I had a lot more experience than him, but he was an enthusiastic pupil. Again, wasn’t that likely to be the way of things for someone like me?
Then I remembered the dream I’d had a few nights ago, how I’d woken, found Matt in Joseph’s place and been shamefully disappointed. How the thought of spending a week in Joseph’s bed made me shiver with insolent desire. I felt guilty, but the sensation wouldn’t die, and worse, I didn’t want it to. It wasn’t just lust–something violent lurked beneath and every day that passed, it seduced me a little more.
What if Charlie was right? What if the person I tried to be–the person Matt needed me to be–was no more real than the dream itself?
Fuck this desire that haunted me. It wasn’t a ghost, it shouldn’t be allowed. Charlotte could swivel on the knives, her silver playthings.
Just leave me alone.
Chapter 14
We gathered in one of the board rooms on Friday morning for our New York briefing. The trainees sat along one side of the table, and Joseph occupied the other along with his colleague Yves and his assistant, Sadie. Solomon Dagier stood at the head, tapping fingers on his leather chair.
“I’m not sitting around to listen to all this. I’m in Salzburg all next week,” Solomon said sharply. “But I want you to know how important it is that we get this contract. Redfish Pharmaceuticals are doing some of the most important research into bacterial infections. What does that mean? St. Clare?”
Poppy blinked; she was as shocked as me that he knew her name. “They’re going to make a lot of money.”
“A shitload of money, St. Clare. Thieving bastards, pharmas–the lot of them.” He cocked a weedy little eyebrow. “So no shame in taking our cut.”
Joseph tossed out thick itineraries and Poppy winced as one crushed her suede-covered Filofax.
Solomon started pacing the length of the room, hands behind his back. “We already represent Wan Tech on the other side of the city. This could go in our favour. Play on it–we know what we’re doing. But if any of you disclose anything about Wan Tech, I will personally flay you. Is that clear?”
The room was silent, but a flicker of a smile crossed Joseph’s mouth.
“Good, good. Now. Work hard, enjoy yourselves. Don’t disobey Joseph and never go out for a fag with Yves.” He exited, his hollow laughter echoing down the corridors.
“There’s something sinister about that man,” I whispered to Matt.
“He’s like an evil little leprechaun.” He stroked my knee under the table.
Joseph cleared his throat loudly and we snapped up to look at him. He stood now, the itinerary heavy in his hand. “Finished, children?”
“Yes,” I muttered, my cheeks flushing at his attention.
“So I should think.” The wad of paper dropped onto the table with a thud. “Everything you need is here–flight details, hotel plan, schedule. You’ve all met Yves.” He slammed a hand onto the man’s shoulder. “He’ll be assisting me with the main pitch. I also want you to come up with your own, individually. You’ll be presenting them to us on Monday–the best of you will join us for the real deal and the other two can observe.”
Cheers for the early warning, Mr Merchant.
“You can spend the rest of today researching Redfish. Sadie has done the donkeywork, but I want to make sure you’re capable and I need to be sure you’re knowledgeable. Full profiles on my desk by lunchtime. Then you can start thinking about your pitches.” Joseph paused to sip a glass of water. “Yves? Some examples, if you will.”
Yves ran his fingers over a buzz cut. “Look at the Wan Tech files and take note of everything we managed to offset for them. The loopholes are the key here. What kind of tricks can we pull that other firms can’t? You’ve got to be savvy.”
I hated hearing words like savvy from older people. I hoped he couldn’t see me cringing.
“And legal,” Joseph added wryly. “No playing silly fucks just to look clever.”
“Won’t we all end up pitching the same thing?” There was a nervous edge to Poppy’s tone; she wanted the chance to compete with me. Needed it, now.
“In theory, yeah,” said Yves, “if you’re on the ball.”
“But it’s how you dress it up that counts.” Joseph shot me a sharp little stare. “The most important thing the three of you can do on this trip is to network. I want them left reeling that Bach and Dagier is stuffed to the arse-end perfect with bright, young things. Be fresh and be charming–no talk about politics, no talk about religion and for Christ’s sake, no jokes about Jaffa Cakes. That’s another flayable offense.” He leaned forward on his hands. “I’ve pulled a lot of strings to take you on this trip. Make me proud of you.”
Matt squeezed my knee under the table and I pressed my leg against his. Such little gestures were instinctive, as if we were just components on an electric circuit, passing on the charge. It seemed the most natural thing in the world and yet I had to break it, soon–all this heat would wither to a chill. I hated knowing it and I loathed how the realization crept up on me in moments like this.
“Leila? Any questions?” Joseph’s voice was terse.
“Oh.” I glanced up at him. “No. I think.”
“Any further questions can go to Sadie.” He stepped back. “You’re excused.”
“Have you heard what they’re saying up in litigation?” Poppy asked as our heels clicked down the corridor in unison.
I shook my head.
“They’re considering opening an American office,” she whispered, “and they want Joseph to head it.”
My stomach lurched and I wobbled on my shoes. “Oh?” I meant to sound casual, but the panic was searing, obvious.
“He’s got family over there,” she went on. “He handles Wan Tech and a couple of other
American companies. He’s the obvious choice.”
I knew, then, why she’d suddenly applied for my job. She wanted to go with him. I needed a few minutes to work out what that meant, somewhere quiet and peaceful. Somewhere unlike a busy office. “How do you know all this?”
She shrugged, an impish smile forcing a dimple to surface. “All the rubbish errands he gives me do have their benefits. I overhear all sorts of stuff. He calls New York a lot. I knew it as soon as I heard where we were going.” There was something in her voice beyond conspiratorial camaraderie. So this was where our opposition really lay, hmm? Him?
Joseph had assured me that the job was still mine. Did he plan on taking me over there? Questions rushed over me, dumped from a great height into a pail of iced water.
“What’s that?” Matt said, appearing beside us with cans of Coke from the machine.
“Poppy thinks Joseph might be setting up an office in New York,” I said quietly.
His face mellowed in relief. “Oh…right.”
I knew what he thought: Good fucking riddance.
Back in the office, I flicked through the itinerary to check for anything of use. Only then did I notice the little brown envelope clipped to the back sheet, adorned with my name in Joseph’s blunt handwriting. I glanced around to make sure Matt and Poppy were occupied and teased it open. Inside lay a check for at least ten times my usual fee.
I didn’t know whether to take it as compliment or warning, and worse, the prospect of either made me tighten in places it shouldn’t have. What I did know, as I watched Matt wipe a drop of Coke from his laptop and blow the hair from his eyes, was that it could be no compensation for the price I would have to pay.
* * * *
Copious online purchases awaited me at home, and later that night, I spent a good hour twirling in the mirror. These were the kind of clothes that I didn’t need Clemmie’s help to pick. Silk jersey dresses by Issa that hung off all the right curves, an embellished skirt cut just above the knee, Westwood ankle boots in stroke-worthy, satiny suede. Sheer lingerie that made me feel guilty just looking at it. Stockings.
On the plus side, the check that morning meant I didn’t have to send most of it back.
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