Transplanting Holly Oakwood

by Di Jones

  “Chips?”

  “TV show from years ago. The whole series is quite popular again on DVD. Like to borrow it?”

  Brittany gave her a withering look and pointed to the door. Holly made her escape, relieved the questioning was over.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Guy

  Within minutes of Guy arriving back at the Consulate Brittany rushed into his office with Ann in tow. Ann looked exasperated, a quality unusual in her.

  “Guy, we have a disaster here,” said Brittany without preamble.

  “Sit down.” He extended a hand towards Ann. “What’s going on?”

  “As Brittany’s said, we have a serious problem. We received a letter from Alex Sharpe at Bell, Smith and Headley a couple of hours ago.”

  He kept his expression neutral, but his jaw clenched. He knew Sharpe by reputation, and it was a formidable one.

  “Do you know the firm?” Ann asked him.

  “Yes, they’re one of the biggest law firms in LA, they specialise in litigation. Sharpe is one of their rainmakers,” Guy answered. “What does he want with us?”

  “They’re representing a man by the name of Eugene Cornelius,” Ann continued. “He was in a car accident last weekend.”

  He couldn’t remember any of the Consulate staff having an accident and Brittany hadn’t mentioned one during their phone calls. Nonetheless his scalp prickled.

  “Eugene Cornelius has been badly injured,” Ann said. “Holly was the other driver.”

  “It was her fault,” said Brittany excitedly. “What’s worse, she didn’t report the accident to the police or the insurance company.”

  “Didn’t report the accident? To anyone?” His voice sounded sharp but he felt dazed, his mind whirring with conflicting emotions. “We’re renting her car, aren’t we? Is it true she didn’t report the accident?” he asked Ann incredulously.

  “She told Brittany she had an accident, but didn’t tell her how serious it was.”

  “What on earth was she thinking?” he asked, his voice softer now. He shook his head in denial and turned to Brittany. “What did she tell you?”

  “She said her car had a small scrape and there wasn’t any damage to the other vehicle.”

  “Did she say anything about the other driver?”

  “She said he was fine, but as we now know she was lying. She had to be if he’s injured.”

  “I don’t understand why she’d lie.” Ann glared at Brittany. “I think we need to talk to her.”

  “We do,” said Guy, watching the two women sparring.

  “This is a serious matter,” Brittany continued, “and could attract attention we don’t need.”

  Guy tuned out, lost in his own thoughts. The accident was the last thing he wanted to talk to Holly about. He wanted to speak to her about the night of the party, but every time he’d asked Brittany to put him through while he was away Holly had been busy, and hadn’t returned his calls. Maybe she was embarrassed about their kiss. Perhaps she’d had a bit to drink and it hadn’t meant anything to her. And God, had alcohol played a part in the accident too? Holly didn’t have a good track record where drinking was concerned, but for the moment he’d keep his thoughts to himself.

  The women were looking at him expectantly and he fiddled with the papers on his desk before speaking. “Yes, we need to talk to her. Could one of you get her please?”

  “I will.” Brittany leapt out of her chair immediately, irritating him beyond belief.

  After she left he turned to Ann. “What do you make of Holly?”

  “I like her. She’s a hard worker, reliable, and strikes me as truthful.”

  “Yes, that’s my view too.”

  “I don’t know why she’d lie. If she hurt someone in an accident, surely she’d never expect to get away with it.”

  “Let’s see what she has to say.” He sighed, wishing he had to deal with anything but this.

  THIRTY

  Holly

  Holly walked into the kitchen, threw her bag down and stretched, but it didn’t help with her fatigue. A strong coffee was what she needed.

  “Do you know what’s going on, Holly?” Tina bustled in as she was making it, looking fit to burst.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you seen all the comings and goings?”

  “No, I’ve been out all morning. Trying to sell the sleeping bag.”

  “That thing, no one will buy it,” said Tina definitively.

  “You and I both know it, but Brittany still seems to think I can move it. Actually, I saw someone this morning who didn’t laugh me out of his office.”

  “Really? Who was that?”

  “The West Coast buyer for REI. He seemed quite interested in it much to my surprise. Said he’ll talk to some of his store managers and come back to me.”

  “Fingers crossed,” said Tina, and changed the subject back. “There’s been all sorts of comings and goings in the office this morning.”

  “What sort of comings and goings?”

  “Ann and Brittany have been in and out of Guy’s office all afternoon.”

  “Guy’s office?” She dropped the spoon with a clatter. “Is he back?”

  “That’s the strange thing. He’s not due back until Monday. But I can hear raised voices through the wall.”

  “Probably Ann and Brittany arguing over the passport office.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, but there’s a man in there too.”

  The clacking of stilettos announced Brittany’s arrival in the kitchen. Her colour was high and her eyes shone.

  “Holly, we want to see you in Guy’s office. Now.”

  “Just a minute,” she replied, putting the milk back in the fridge.

  “I said now.”

  Holly smoothed her hair back. If only she had a minute to run a comb through it, perhaps put on a slick of lipstick. She didn’t feel her best, never did around Brittany, and would’ve liked a minute to compose herself before talking over God knows what with God knows who.

  She followed Brittany into the office and smiled at Ann, who looked straight through her. What could have happened to change her mood drastically from yesterday, when they’d chatted over a cup of coffee?

  “Holly, thank you for joining us.”

  She swivelled around, pleasure and embarrassment washing over her in equal measures. “Guy. You’re back.”

  “Please take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair. His tone was formal and a hard, tight knot formed in her chest. “We find ourselves in an unfortunate position at the Consulate,” he continued in a cold voice.

  She sat down, jiggled her feet and wondered what it had to do with her. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s happened?”

  “We’ve had a phone call this morning from Bell, Smith and Headley.”

  She racked her brain, wondering if she’d heard mention of Bell, Smith and Headley before. “Who?”

  “Lawyers.”

  “Lawyers?” she echoed.

  “They represent Mr Eugene Cornelius.”

  “Mr Cornelius,” she repeated, sweat breaking out on her palms.

  “You know him?”

  She swallowed, her mouth dry. “Yes.”

  “How do you know him?”

  She pushed her sleeves back as heat radiated across her upper body. “I was in an accident last weekend. He was the other driver.” She looked to Brittany for confirmation but Brittany and Guy were exchanging meaningful glances.

  “Brittany told me you’d admitted to being in an accident with him.” Guy paused for an eternity, during which she feared her lungs would explode. “As a result of the accident Mr Cornelius is suing the Consulate for one million dollars.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Guy

  As the implications of his words sank in, Holly drained of all colour, her mouth fell open and her eyes seemed to sink back into their sockets. “One million dollars? Mr Cornelius is suing us for one million dollars?”

  “Yes, you
heard Guy correctly,” said Brittany, bobbing in her seat. “You told me the other driver was fine.”

  “Leave this to me,” Guy cut in. “Mr Cornelius says you were driving recklessly on the freeway.”

  “Recklessly? That’s total rubbish. It was his fault and that’s what I told Brittany.” Holly glared at Brittany, then swept her icy gaze back to him. His pulse raced as their eyes met. She was stunning when she was angry, and if they were alone he’d get up from his seat and kiss her right now.

  “He says that as a result of the accident his neck and back have been severely dislocated.”

  Holly jiggled in her seat and opened her mouth to say something, but he held up his hand.

  “Apparently he has an old injury, and the impact of the accident has worsened his chances of ever making a full recovery.”

  Holly went a vibrant shade of red, then paled. Her jaw worked furiously, but no sound came out. Her smooth white fingers gripped the sides of her chair, but she remained silent.

  “He’s in a wheelchair, and he’ll need intensive therapy to be able to walk again.”

  “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” she finally blurted out.

  Guy ignored her. “He’s engaged a lawyer to represent him, and they’re suing us for a million dollars.”

  “I told Brittany I had an accident,” she said and gnawed her bottom lip so hard he could see teeth marks in her soft flesh. “I was driving down the freeway past LAX in the wrong lane. I indicated to move left but the car Mr Cornelius was driving was also in the wrong lane. Our cars clipped each other, and mine was shunted off the road.” She met his gaze unflinchingly.

  “What happened to the other car?” asked Guy.

  “He drove on, then stopped and got out to see if I was alright.”

  “You say he got out?”

  “Yes, he waved to me and then I got back in my car.”

  “If he got out of the car he couldn’t have been badly hurt,” he said, shooting a pointed look at Ann.

  “Anyway, I was stuck. My car wouldn’t start, and I was facing the wrong way and couldn’t cross the freeway.”

  “What happened next?”

  “The police came. They got the car going, and took Mr Cornelius and I down the freeway to see if we were alright.”

  He straightened in his seat, bolstered by euphoria. “The police attended the accident? Why wasn’t an accident report filed?”

  “No damage to the cars,” Holly continued, “apart from a small scratch and scrape, and we were both fine. Mr Cornelius said there was no point involving the insurance companies because touch ups would cost less than the insurance excesses.”

  “The problem,” he said, wishing he could fold his arms around her protectively, “is that Mr Cornelius has a different version of events.”

  “He’s lying.”

  He ignored her, but his conscience prickled for doing so. “He says his car was badly damaged and that you said you didn’t want the insurance companies–”

  “I didn’t suggest it, he did,” interrupted Holly.

  “He said he initially had whiplash,” Guy continued, “but by that night he was barely able to move, and he was hospitalised.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” She fidgeted in her chair. “He was absolutely fine, he told the police he was, and they checked both cars carefully and found only a small scratch on his.”

  “Guy, why don’t you leave this with me?” suggested Ann. “The police witnessed the accident and it’ll be easy to track them down. They’ll be able to corroborate Holly’s story.”

  “Thanks Ann, please do that. Holly, how did Mr Cornelius know you worked here?”

  “He asked if I was a tourist, and when I said I worked here he suggested we exchange business cards.”

  “Mmm,” said Guy, leaning back in his chair and squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment he opened them and nodded at Ann, as if she were the only one in the room. “He would have seen she worked at the Consulate.” He trailed off, wondering if the others were following his thinking. “Alright, thanks, Holly, that’s all for now.” She smiled at him tentatively and warmth flooded through his body. “We’ll handle it from here. Having the police confirm your story will be useful.” He rose from the desk, signalling the meeting was over.

  “Guy, I think we should–” said Brittany.

  “We don’t need you any further either,” Guy cut in and Brittany left with Holly, wearing an aggrieved expression.

  Once he was alone with Ann, Guy leant forwards, elbows on his desk and long fingers steepled. He considered the situation, grateful for her silence. After a moment, he drummed his fingers on the desk and asked softly, “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “I have a good idea,” Ann said. “You think this could be a scam?”

  “That occurred to me.”

  “Me too.”

  “Holly’s insistent in what she says. If the police checked the car as she says they did, and found negligible damage, it’s odd this man’s now saying it’s significant.” They regarded each other for a minute in silence, lost in their own thoughts. “He could be litigious, and once he saw Holly’s business card, the dollar signs would have been flashing in front of his eyes.”

  “That would be a better explanation than the one we have,” said Ann. “I find it hard to believe she’d lie to us.”

  “The last thing we need is a lawsuit and the attendant publicity. Contact the police, and let’s try to get this mess sorted out as soon as possible.”

  After Ann left, Guy paced the room, loosening his tie. Holly was a klutz and it wouldn’t be surprising if she’d caused the accident given she was disaster prone. But having an accident was forgivable, lying wasn’t. If she’d lied, and Mr Cornelius’s injuries were legitimate, they’d have an arduous legal battle ahead. If that was the case Brittany would want to dismiss Holly and that would leave him in a terrible dilemma. As a career diplomat he didn’t get involved in the hiring and firing of Consulate staff, and he certainly couldn’t intercede on Holly’s behalf if Mr Cornelius was telling the truth. He shook his head, trying to clear the mental fog, but one inescapable conclusion weighed on him. Holly was an irritant – naïve, unworldly, and disaster prone – but by God she’d got right under his skin, worked her way into his emotions and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Brittany

  Brittany cycled aggressively, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. She wiped her arm across her brow and spoke, her breath ragged. “Everything’s changed since Holly’s been on board. I can’t put my finger on it but I sense there’s something between her and Guy.”

  Jenna looked puzzled. “There can’t be. She hasn’t been in LA all that long, and you’re close to Guy. Have you seen them together outside the office?”

  “No.” She frowned, wondering whether to tell Jenna the rest. Her chest tightened and her breathing laboured, nothing to do with the exercise. She took a deep breath, then admitted, “But I did see them kissing at Guy’s party.”

  “That doesn’t mean a thing. How many guys have you kissed in your life?”

  “It’s more than that. I could sense it the first day I introduced them. It was as if they were sharing a secret. The only odd thing is that Holly avoids him.”

  “In that case she isn’t interested in him.”

  “But I think Guy’s interested in her.” Her tongue tasted sour as she struggled to admit her secret. “He kept asking to speak to her when he rang from Santiago.”

  “Probably nothing. Anyway, aren’t you still seeing Warren?”

  “Yes, he has his uses.” She held her arm aloft to show off her new acquisition, a platinum bangle which gleamed against her tan.

  “Another present? I wish I had a man to spoil me like that.”

  “It’s pay dirt, Jen.” She slowed her pace. “The heat’s been on ever since I ran into his wife. She watches him like a hawk, and I don’t see much of him now.”

 
“Must make things a lot more difficult.”

  “A lot more profitable. Presents are his way of making up for it.” She knew she sounded avaricious, but didn’t care.

  “Doesn’t he realise you prefer his presents to spending time with him?”

  “It suits him. To be honest I’m done with it emotionally. But the sex is better than no sex at all.”

  “You and Guy still haven’t done it?”

  She feigned deafness and grunted, revving up her pace.

  “You haven’t, have you?” Jenna persisted.

  After a small hesitation she admitted, “Not for lack of trying on my part.”

  “He’s a strong man.”

  “I know he finds me attractive, but he’s holding back. I think he’s still getting over Sarah.” She frowned. “Then there’s Holly.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Pale, out of shape, nondescript,” she said without hesitation. She screwed up her nose and considered for a moment before continuing, “On a good day.”

  “She doesn’t sound like competition. It’s a rare man who could resist your charms.”

  Brittany nodded in agreement.

  “Do you think you’re wasting your time with Guy?” Jenna asked.

  “No, I’m not giving up,” she said, shaking her head emphatically. “Holly won’t be around much longer.”

  “What do you mean not around?” Jenna asked, her eyes widening. “Is she going back to England?”

  “Hopefully. She caused an accident last weekend and failed to report it. The other driver’s suing the Consulate for a million bucks.”

  Jenna whistled. “A million? You’re kidding. What sort of state is he in?”

  “In a wheelchair apparently.” She tried to sound concerned, but a tinge of excitement crept into her voice. “Holly says he was fine after the accident and didn’t want it reported.”

  “Doesn’t make sense.”

  “Gets worse. She’s saying the cops witnessed the aftermath and waived an accident report.”