London Bound (A Heart of the City romance Book 3)

by C. J. Duggan

  I shrugged. ‘It’s a bit big for one.’

  He motioned to the barman for a refill. ‘Didn’t think you would appreciate the company.’

  ‘Well, I was hoping to share it with the Jack that I’ve come to know these past few months.’

  Jack looked into my eyes, curiosity burning within them.

  ‘But I don’t know where he went.’

  Raw emotion filled Jack’s face as he said, ‘It’s still me, Kate.’

  ‘Is it? I don’t want to be that person, suspicious and ungrateful. I see it in my nana, a bitterness, an unwillingness to trust, and it’s starting in me. I’m keeping secrets myself and it’s just so bloody toxic. But you – all this – why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Kate, I didn’t tell you because when I’m with you I’m not Jack Baker of London Bound, I’m just Jack, a nobody. You saw me for me, not my empire. And when I found out you were a blogger in the fashion world, it made me more determined for you to know the real me first, without my career.’

  While he may have hoped to appease me with his honesty, the result was quite the opposite. ‘Do you really think I would have propositioned you to help boost my career?’

  ‘You wouldn’t have been the first.’

  ‘Then I guess you don’t know me at all.’

  Jack stood, towering over me. ‘I know you, Kate, and I know you know me. I helped you because you worked for it, didn’t expect it. Yeah, I slid your stuff under the right noses, but Charlotte contacting you, and all the other magazines and websites that have featured you, that was their decision, not mine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and, knowing you as I do now, if I had my time again I would have told you. But I’ve learned to be careful about the people I surround myself with, and every single person in my life is there because I trust them to be there. You’ve earned that space in my life … in my heart.’

  He gestured to the lobby. ‘It’s like that bloody chandelier, surrounded by thousands of glittering white crystals, but you’re that rare piece, the red crystal, the colour that I’ve been waiting for.’

  Jack lifted the fresh tumbler to his mouth but I stopped him.

  ‘Probably shouldn’t be mixing whiskey and champagne.’

  Jack looked at his drink, confusion lining his face. ‘But I’m not …’

  I took the drink out of his hand and placed it back on the bar, then slid the room key over to him. ‘You will be.’

  Jack looked at the card as if not daring to believe.

  ‘I’m not saying I’m not mad, and I kind of get why you did what you did. But don’t ever keep anything from me, Jack; if we’re going to do this it has to be all or nothing.’

  Jack moved toward me, gently cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin. ‘I’ll bore you with every single minute detail since my birth. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.’

  ‘Somehow I think that there wouldn’t be a boring moment in the life of Jack Baker.’

  ‘Boring? No, probably not, but there’s something that you need to know about me, Kate.’ Jack slid his arms around me; the warmth, the familiarity of him felt so good, so right. It was hard to think, to breathe.

  ‘Oh, what’s that?’

  He pulled away a little, a small smile forming. ‘I have never lived till now.’

  My brow curved. ‘Until now?’

  ‘Well, actually, the moment I nearly hit you with my car.’

  I burst out laughing at the memory of what seemed like a lifetime ago.

  ‘Oh, yes, that! You never did say sorry.’

  Jack grinned. ‘The day Kate Brown came bursting into my life.’ He shook his head. ‘No, I’ll never be sorry about that.’

  I looked up into Jack’s deep brown eyes, lost to him. ‘Neither will I.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Pulling up to the kerb outside our terraces, I took a moment to look at the houses. The first day I arrived here, looking up at their imposing rooflines, I would have never imagined that my life would quite resemble this, arriving home in an Aston Martin with a couture ballgown draped over my arm. My attention turned back to the impressive cockpit-like interior of the car.

  ‘Is it even possible to leave your headlights on accidentally in a car like this?’ I asked, mainly to myself.

  Jack laughed. ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ I said, opening the door and extending the handle on my overnight bag, the one that Jack had sneakily got Vera to pack without my knowledge; an incredibly sweet gesture, but one that also accounted for the rather dowdy mismatching attire of faded jeans and out-of-shape grey V-neck. Apparently Vera had sold the idea to Nana that staying where the ball was being held would be a much safer, more responsible solution, as it meant avoiding a late-night commute. She was an absolute genius.

  I stood on the path, waiting for Jack to make his way around to me; smiling, he pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head, resting his chin on me. Our lingering moment of affection was so very different from the first time we met on this very spot. I recalled the cocky, incredulous look on his face and how I had hated finding him attractive. I pulled away from his embrace to look up at his handsome face.

  ‘I’ll be in in a sec,’ he said.

  ‘Balcony?’

  ‘Ah, I think it’s time to start coming through the front door, yeah?’

  I smiled. ‘Wow, that’s a big step.’

  ‘No more secrets, remember?’

  My smile fell away, recalling our pact. ‘No more secrets.’ The only way we could move forward was to be honest in all aspects of our lives, which included telling Nana about using her secret room for my blog posts. Remembering the way she had looked at me last night, when she thought I’d merely looked in her room, made me feel sick about what I had to do.

  ‘Hope Nana’s in a good mood,’ I said over my shoulder, pulling my case up the steps.

  Unlocking the front door to the terrace and swinging it open, I picked up the mail from the floor and plopped it on the side table.

  ‘Nana, Vera, anyone home?’

  ‘In the kitchen,’ called Vera.

  ‘Okay, well, I’m just putting the dress away, be down in a sec.’ I wasn’t going to lie, the sooner I got Nana’s dress safely back where it belonged the better; wearing it last night, worrying about spillage and tearing, had made me more than a little anxious.

  It felt nice to actually have a reason to visit the one place, aside from Jack’s arms, that calmed me. Now that Nana knew I knew about the room, I felt a step closer to being more honest about everything in my life. As I walked toward the room, my bone-deep dread melted away, letting in a new-found optimism. All the stars were aligning, and with a meeting with Charlotte Whitakers planned for tomorrow, I was never more determined or excited about ‘Kate on the Thames’. Jack had assured me that he would only help if I asked, that he wouldn’t interfere, but I didn’t care all that much. The nights I had worked with Jack on the video editing and my social media strategy had been some of the most memorable moments of my life; we shared a core vision, a deep love for beautiful things and the passion to present them in a way that could be appreciated by the masses. It wasn’t CEO Jack whose advice I sought out, but the Jack who had sat on my front doorstep with a cold beer listening to my follower updates. I smiled to myself, barely believing how things had turned out. I juggled my bag and the dress and managed to twist the door handle, pushing it open and switching on the light.

  I froze, my mouth falling open, my blood running cold.

  The room, though still its glorious light blue, with beautiful white cabinetry and sparkling chandelier, had one very obvious difference. The room was completely empty, devoid of any vintage splendour or designer collectables; the entire room had been stripped of belongings. I let the dress in its plastic carry bag crumple to the floor, moving to open the double doors to the adjoining room, hoping that maybe they had been relocated, but there was nothing. Even the dressing table was barren. The only object in the room sa
t on top of the glass cabinet: the article from London Bound, the one that Jack had brought over last night, that had a photo of me holding up a Louis Vuitton to the camera against the backdrop of Nana’s shelves, with the caption ‘One to watch – “Kate on the Thames”. I cast my mind back to last night, the heated words Jack and I had had at the door, him taking the article from me and leaving it on the sideboard.

  Oh God.

  I felt gutted, both ashamed for accepting kudos for something that wasn’t even mine but also devastated that Nana had taken away the one of the few things that gave me joy.

  I shook my head, barely believing, as I marched a determined line to the door, ripping it open and heading directly for the stairs.

  ‘Nana!’ I called out, opening the door to her bedroom then bathroom – both empty. Beside myself at the loss of my secret happy place, I was ready to start a full-scale war. I blindly ran into Vera in the hall, almost knocking her over.

  ‘Kate, what on earth—’

  ‘Where’s Nana?’

  ‘She’s in the back garden.’

  ‘It’s gone, Vera, all of it, every single item has been cleared out,’ I said, brushing past her to head through the kitchen to the back courtyard where Nana sat in the sun, crumbling pieces of bread for the birds dancing around in the garden. The scene would have been as pretty as a picture had I not been so upset.

  I came to stand before her, but her attention never broke from her task.

  ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

  ‘Oh, I see old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard and the cupboard was bare.’

  ‘Do you really hate me that much?’

  Her ice blue eyes lifted to me, disregarding my obvious state of distress with a hard look. I felt like a small, wilful child about to be reprimanded for her selfish behaviour.

  ‘I know I should have asked, I know what I did was wrong. I was going to tell you about the blog, but then it exploded, and I just didn’t know how to tell you; I waited for you to be in a good mood, but you never are. Every day I try not to upset you, to please you, while you seem to live to be nasty and to put me down. Do you know how exhausting that is?’

  Nana looked away from me, continuing to crumble bread for the birds as if I wasn’t even there.

  ‘Well, if you wanted to teach me a lesson, well done, you have. You win, you’ve taken all my joy – Joy, is that why you’re called that? Because you suck the life out of people? You grind them down to dust by being so hateful and hurtful? And if saying this gets me kicked out, then so be it. I know I was wrong, I admit it. But you’re wrong too, Nana. You’re wrong too.’

  I didn’t wait for her response. Instead, as hard as it was to pull away from her searing gaze, I stalked inside, ignoring the shrill calls of my name.

  ‘Get back here, Katherine Elizabeth … Kate!’

  I walked past Vera in the kitchen, going down the hall, feeling myself shaking. I was so upset, so terrified of the consequences of my words.

  ‘Kate, wait!’ Vera called after me, but I was not stopping, I was out of here and would never look back. I opened the door and slammed so hard into Jack that he had to grab my arms to steady me from falling over.

  ‘Whoa, what’s wrong?’ His brows knitted together, looking from me to Vera, who was now standing behind me. ‘So Nana’s not in a good mood then?’

  I wiped my eyes. ‘Take me away from this place, Jack.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  ‘A family trait, Jack: short wicks. I’m afraid she gets her short fuse and knack for jumping to conclusions from me.’

  I turned to Nana, who stood next to Vera behind me. She sighed as if bored, leaning on her walking stick. Despite knowing how upset I was, there was not an ounce of sympathy.

  ‘I’m nothing like you,’ I said. I felt the press of Jack’s hand at my back as he tried to halt my words, but I didn’t care. If anything, I was relieved; no more secrets, everything was out in the open. I would cancel my meeting tomorrow with Charlotte and just start again, somehow.

  Like it’s that easy.

  Vera stepped forward. ‘Kate, I think there’s something you should see.’

  ‘I think I’ve seen enough.’

  ‘Trust me, you are going to want to see this. Joy?’ She turned to Nana as if expecting her to chime in, but if she wanted her to beg me not to go, then Vera really didn’t know her at all. As expected, Nana rolled her eyes.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, let’s put her out of her misery, my tea’s getting cold.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Jack, answer me this: is she like this with you?’ asked Nana.

  I shot Jack a warning look, cringing about what had happened last night. I could tell he was thinking about it by the way his lips twitched, stifling a smirk.

  Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I don’t know why I followed, there was nothing for me to see, nothing that I could have possibly cared about. Nana had made sure of that. But we went up to the second floor and down the hall, following Nana at a glacial pace. Vera, Jack and I stood behind her as she approached the closet door. The only thing I was certain of was that there were no umbrellas in that closet, and that it was far too small to house any rare vintage garments. Joy opened up the closet door, revealed just what I suspected – linen.

  Nana looked proud, actually smiling, as was Vera; Jack’s confusion and my annoyance aside, I started to wonder if there was a slow gas leak filtering through the terrace, making everyone mad.

  ‘Well, if it’s storage you’re worried about, I am sure you have ample of it now: two rooms, in fact.’

  Including mine, as soon as I left this place.

  ‘Well, you certainly don’t get your smarts from me, that’s for sure.’ Nana laughed.

  Vera winced. ‘Joy, honestly.’

  I was all but ready to walk away when Nana scoffed. ‘Fine then, open sesame,’ she announced, pushing the shelving with her bony hand, flinging it aside and revealing—

  ‘Holy shit.’ Jack spoke the very words I was thinking.

  There, in the poky little cupboard, behind the slender shelves that Nana had pushed open like a door, were a set of stairs leading up into darkness.

  My eyes shifted to Nana, unable to voice all the questions whirling around in my head.

  Nana smiled, pointing her stick toward the stairs. ‘Go on then.’

  My eyes strayed from Nana, to Jack, then to Vera, uncertain. ‘Are you going to lock me in the attic, Nana?’

  Nana laughed. ‘Don’t tempt me, child. Now go; take Romeo with you if you’re so scared.’

  ‘There’s a drawstring light at the top of the stairs,’ said Vera.

  I tentatively edged forward, ducking my head and moving through the dusty opening. Jack’s hand was on my back, letting me know he was right behind me. I slowly started up the small, narrow, seemingly endless steps, the light coming from the hall behind us the only guide.

  ‘Well, if we’re locked up here for all eternity at least we’ll be together,’ Jack teased.

  ‘I know that’s supposed to be a comfort, Jack, but it’s not working. I’m trying to rack my brains for any missing cousins in my family.’

  ‘Any you can think of?’

  ‘Not that I can recall,’ I said, coming to an opening, my hands sliding along a banister leading me into more darkness.

  ‘Look for the light.’

  ‘I am,’ I said, my hands searching in front of me, waving around until my hand touched a string.

  ‘Ah-ha! I got it!’ I yelled, yanking on the cord and flooding the room with brightness, blinking and smiling at my little victory; the relief of having got up here safely soon left me, however, as my widened eyes took in the room. The only thing I could do was grab Jack’s hand, squeezing so tightly my knuckles turned a yellowy-white.

  ‘Jack! Pinch me!’ I said urgently, needing him to prove that I wasn’t dream
ing, that this was real. He pinched my bum so hard I swear it bruised instantly, but it was his laughter that had me tearing my eyes from the sight before me to him.

  ‘Fuck me!’

  And before I could repeat those exact sentiments, a shadow rose from behind Jack, bearing down and striking him on the arm.

  ‘Jesus, what the hell?’

  ‘Language, young man!’ Nana lowered her walking stick; there will be no such language in the presence of Prada.

  Or Chanel, Saint Laurent, Vuitton, Dior.

  An entire room, chock-full of racks and racks and racks of clothes, boxes and shelving, full to overflowing, far more than what could have existed in Nana’s room.

  ‘W-what is this place?’

  ‘Storage,’ said Vera.

  ‘It’s where I keep the really good stuff.’

  ‘The really good stuff?’

  Nana shrugged. ‘I mean, the stuff in my room was all right but if you want to be serious about fashion then you’ll need to work with quality.’

  I blinked, completely confused. I didn’t understand a word of what she was saying.

  Vera must have guessed as much. ‘I showed Nana your blog; well, actually she bullied me into it after finding the news clipping.’

  Oh God, she had seen my blog, the videos of me touching her things. I turned to Nana’s steely blue gaze, so serious and mean, bracing myself. But then something unexpected happened: her brows lifted, and she leant into the light with a small but genuine smile on her face.

  ‘I loved it.’

  What? Nana didn’t love anything or anyone – surely she was just being cruel?