by Shae Banks
“Nah,” Paul said, filling the kettle. “He’d rather come up and deal with it than there be an accident. I’ve been with the company since they first started and believe me, Jay doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.”
“Everything okay?” I asked conversationally.
“Yeah. Burst pipe right in the middle of town. Traffic’s backed up in both directions. I had to call Jay in.”
Rachel looked at him, confused. “Jay?”
“Mister Locksley,” Paul clarified. “Engineering Director.”
My phone rang. I looked around them and flushed. “Excuse me.”
I tried not to run out of the staff room and into the bathroom as I answered. “Hello?”
“It’s me. I’m coming back up there. Now. If I get finished early enough can I see you? I haven’t booked a room yet, but when I have somewhere, I’ll book under your name so you can get the keys.”
My earlier conversation with Haylie popped into my head. Whether it was a good idea or not I wasn’t sure, but I said, “You could just stay with me.”
I could tell he was grinning. “That works. I have to go, my phone’s going mental. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Okay… Umm, see you later then?”
“I’ll make sure you do.”
I was smiling like an idiot when he hung up. For all of ten seconds, when I remembered Haylie. “Shit…”
Three clicks and the dial tone started. “Yeah?”
“I’m so sorry… You can’t stay. He’s coming back, and I told him to stay with me. I didn’t think, I’m sorry. Will you be okay?”
“Oh, my god. At your house?”
I knew she couldn’t see me, but I pulled a face. “Yes, at my house. Where else?”
“Wow… Okay.”
“Will you be okay?”
“Yeah… I’ll break out the big guns.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I said, “Yeah?”
“Hmm. I can’t tell you how much I hate Top Gun, but I’ll cook his favorite and sit through it.” I tried so hard not to laugh that it came out as a snort. “I want all the gory details.”
“Bye, Hayles.”
“All of them!” she shouted as I took the phone away from my ear.
“Love you.”
I hung up and went back to my salad. Rachel was waiting for me when I got back, a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the table.
“Okay?” she asked as I sat down.
“Yeah, perfect. Thanks.” I took a sip of the coffee, and she smiled.
Chapter Sixteen
There was a gentle knock on the door at nine thirty.
“I was expecting you to be much later. Go through,” I said, closing the door behind him.
He looked up at the staircase, then to the right, into the living room. “Yeah. The rig was faulty. I brought a spare with me and got it sealed. I’ve been up to the office for a shower and got changed before I came here.”
I followed him in, giving him time to look around. I assumed he was looking for evidence of my previous life. Of him. He wouldn’t find any. “Are you hungry?”
He shook his head. “No. Thanks. And thanks for letting me…” He trailed off.
“It was about time,” I replied, moving around him and to the door at the other end of the room. “Drink?”
He followed me into the kitchen. “Yeah. The house is nice.”
I laughed quietly, taking two glasses from the cupboard and opening the fridge for a bottle of wine. “Took a while, but I made it just mine. More or less.”
He watched me pour the wine and took the glass when I offered it. “Tony said you didn’t want the job at first.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was right… I mean…”
“He said.”
I didn’t know how much they shared and didn’t bother to ask. “He set me straight. It won’t be for long, he expects her back from the way he was talking.”
He nodded and sipped the wine, looking around the room. “I hope I haven’t messed with your plans tonight. I know it was short notice.”
I shook my head. “No, honestly it’s fine. Haylie was staying, but she’s probably better off sorting her messy relationship out. Death by Top Gun isn’t the best way to go, but that isn’t my problem.”
He gave me a quizzical look, and I laughed, shaking my head. “Doesn’t matter. Come through.”
He joined me on the sofa. “Is there a reason you have no photographs?” he asked, looking around. “Or ornaments. Not even a potted plant…”
“No. I don’t like reminders, and I don’t do plants or flowers. I forget to water them and don’t really like watching stuff die.”
He gave me an odd look and asked, “So buying flowers is a no?”
“I don’t think there’s anything nice about it. I killed this for you, have fun watching it rot.”
“Fair enough,” he said, I assumed making a mental note.
“I have some things. I call it my Morbid Box,” I mutter, feeling like I had to give some sort of explanation. “It only comes out on very special occasions. Want to see it?”
He took a drink and answered, “If this is a special occasion, then I’d love to.”
He was watching me. I could see he was tired, but he was genuinely interested.
I shrugged. “Suppose it is. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I left him sitting on the couch and went into the kitchen, dragging a chair from the small table and using it to stand on so I could reach the top of the cupboard.
The box was covered in dust, and I made a mental note to clean the cupboards as I took a damp cloth from the sink and wiped it off. I drank my wine in three gulps and refilled the glass before going back into the living room. I held it out to him and said, “Here you go, knock yourself out.”
He looked at it for a second then opened it. I curled up on the sofa and watched him, sipping my wine as he pulled out the first stack of photographs. Each had a small note attached, and I waited for his reaction as he lifted the slip of paper to view the image beneath.
“Mum took these, but they’re the same as the ones used as evidence,” I explained as he looked, read, and carefully placed it on the sofa arm.
He didn’t say anything, moving through the photos showing the injuries I’d sustained in all their horrific glory. He stared at the picture of me in the wheelchair with my leg in a huge cast much longer than the others.
“How long were you in the…” He swallowed, not finishing the sentence.
“A few months. Obviously, the screws did their job, but it took a long time. I was out of the cast as soon as possible so I could get moving. I gained a lot of weight sitting on my arse for all that time. The physical therapy I had with the cast on wasn’t enough.”
“You were nearly killed, and you’re hung up on the weight you gained?” he asked in disbelief.
I shrugged again. “It was the one thing I thought I could change after. The scars were always going to be there, but the weight I could get rid of.”
I could see the sadness in his eyes and craned my neck to see the next photo. “That was the day they woke me up. They put me in an induced coma because of the knock to the head when I landed… Mum and Haylie filled the room with balloons. It was like coming ‘round in a ball pit.”
He smiled at the photo now in his hand. “How is your mum?”
I took a steadying breath and picked up the pictures he’d already looked at. “She passed two years ago. Cancer.”
His brows pulled together, and he passed me the photograph. He paused at the next one.
“Cost a damn fortune to get me looking like that,” I said with a humorless laugh. “It was a good day, considering.”
“This is how I remembered you.”
I shook my head. “I’d changed a lot by then. That’s the only one left of the wedding. I was going to cut him out of it but never got around to it. Mum said it was good to remember something positive about him. I try not to remember anything at a
ll most days, but...”
He put the photos back in the box and handed it to me. “Thank you, for sharing those with me. I’m sorry about your mum, she was always…”
“Yeah. She was pretty amazing. I know it sounds weird, but I try not to think about her too much. I miss her less that way.” I put the pictures back in the box and dropped it on the floor at my feet, then reached for my bag. Pulling my purse out, I opened it and handed it to him. “But I do keep her picture with me all the time.”
But he wasn’t looking at that. His attention was fixed on the small charm hanging from the zip of the coin compartment. Two tiny brass keys hanging from a clasp. “You kept them?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek as he looked at me.
“Do you remember when we found them?”
I smiled at the memory. It was the coldest Saturday in June on record and we decided to take the train to the coast. We sheltered from the rain beneath the pier and he plucked them from the sand.
“I can’t believe you still have them. That you kept them.”
I drained my glass and put it down on top of the Morbid Box. “Of course, I did. They helped me get through some really shitty days to be honest.”
He closed the purse and handed it back to me. “In what way?”
I smiled. “I had a lot of good memories to look back at. On hopeless days, I thought about them and told myself I could get there again, eventually. If I just took the step. If I managed without the crutches. If I got back to normal, I could meet someone, I could have a life.” With someone who loved me, I finished in my head. Because deep down I really believed I was worthy of it, regardless of the shit hands I’d been dealt so far.
“You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, don’t you? You know you can trust me?” he asked.
I wasn’t ready for that question. I knew the answer. I was almost certain I knew he wouldn’t, not physically at least, but there was a part of me that couldn’t answer because he couldn’t know. “I trust that you wouldn’t run me over,” I said. “But shit happens. All I’m ever going to ask of you is that you’re honest. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you another answer.”
He reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I relaxed and stifled a yawn.
“Shall we go to bed?”
I looked up at the clock. “Probably should. I’ve got a lot to sort tomorrow. Sandra’s files are a complete mess and I have no idea how she finds anything.”
Grinning at me, he stood up and pulled me to my feet. “How does it feel being on the management team?”
“I’ll let you know on payday,” I teased, pulling my hand away and picking up our glasses. “Bathroom’s at the top of the stairs, my room second right. I’ll be up in a minute.”
He kissed me and went upstairs while I cleaned up. I was glad to shove my Morbid Box back on top of the cupboard, out of sight and out of mind.
I could hear him moving around upstairs. It felt off having someone in the house who wasn’t Haylie. I wasn’t sure what to do about it. After a couple of minutes, I settled on doing nothing and checked the back door, removed the key, and put it in the cutlery drawer. I turned off the lights and made sure the front door was secure before heading upstairs myself.
He was sitting on the edge of my bed when I got in there, and when he saw me he held out his hands. I took them, letting him pull me into his arms. With his head on my stomach, he took a deep breath. I combed my fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head.
“Come on, let’s get some sleep,” I murmured eventually, stepping out of his embrace. “You’ve got to drive south again tomorrow, and I have to train Chantal to do my job while I’m doing someone else’s.”
I woke up alone. The bed was still warm on the opposite side, so he hadn’t been gone long. I lay quietly, listening. The radio was on downstairs. I smiled, relieved he hadn’t done a runner, and climbed out of bed, reaching for my bathrobe.
I found him in the kitchen. Singing. He’d made toast and coffee and was getting the butter out of the fridge when he saw me leaning against the doorframe watching him.
“So, you sing?”
He smiled, reaching for me with his free hand and dragging me toward him by the belt of my robe. “Only on very special occasions,” he said, kissing me. “Breakfast is ready.”
He moved to the table, pulling out a chair for me, while I reached for my coffee and asked, “What’s special about today?”
“We had our first sleepover.”
I chuckled into my mug. “We’ve had lots of sleepovers.”
He shook his head and buttered me a slice of toast. “Hotels don’t count.” Dropping the slice onto my plate, he reached for another and buttered that. “This is different.”
“So, we’re celebrating this momentous occasion with toast and singing?”
“Is there a better way?”
I took a bite of my toast and shook my head. “Nope. This is perfect. Thank you.”
We ate, I got dressed, and I followed him to work. Tony wasn’t in yet, but the cleaner was just leaving, and she held the door for us. I thanked her and went straight into the office, and turned on the computer while he made us both a drink.
“I need to check something in the workshop. I’ll let you know when I leave, and I’ll call tonight,” he said, leaning over and kissing my cheek as I sat at my desk.
I smiled, resting my head back against his abdomen. “Thanks for staying. And for breakfast.”
“Thank you for letting me stay. We’ll have to do it again some time.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Hotels are nice for a change but there’s something about being at home.”
He kissed my forehead and stepped back. “Yeah… Oh. Good morning, Chantal, is it?”
My stomach clenched. “Shit...”
It was barely a whisper. But he heard me and placed his hand on my shoulder. It was supposed to reassure me, but I panicked and shrugged it off, flashing her an awkward smile. “Morning.”
She looked at us both, then went straight into the staff room with her phone in her hand. I sagged into my seat. “Crap.”
He didn’t seem concerned. “Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I hissed, looking back at the staff room door. “You’re her bloody boss.”
He chuckled. “So are you now,” he said with a wink. “Have fun. I’ll see you later.”
I scowled at the back of his head as he sauntered off toward the door that led to the workshop, feeling a little bit sick at the prospect of spending the day working closely with Chantal after she’d caught us.
Chapter Seventeen
Three days had passed, and I couldn’t have been more relieved to see a Friday. Chantal had wasted no time in sharing her discovery with Rachel, and naturally she’d gone quiet on me again. I wasn’t devastated, it wasn’t as though we’d been friends of any sort, but it had been nice to have someone to speak with at work for a few short hours. The news had reached the engineers too, and I received more than one knowing look and tip of the head before the week was through.
By the time I sorted all my stuff, Tony and I were the only ones left in the building. I grabbed my bag and stopped by his open door on my way out. “Have a good weekend.”
“You too. And thank you for this week. You have no idea how much of a help you’ve been.”
He was at his desk, shirt undone at the neck, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. He looked exhausted. “Is there anything else you need before I go home?”
He shook his head and smiled up at me. “No, really.” He looked at me for a moment then said, “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, Nathalie, but can I just take a moment to thank you for your influence elsewhere?”
I look at him in confusion.
“Jason,” he clarified. “The change in him recently is, well, he’s a different bloke, and I have you to thank for that. He’s my oldest friend, and while there hasn’t been the opportunity for us to get to know on
e another outside of work, I hope we get the chance soon.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t know how to measure any change in Jason since I didn’t know him that well anymore, but I was pleased he seemed happy with me. “Yeah. We should probably arrange something with Jase next time he’s up… Whenever that will be.”
His eyes twinkled as his smile broadened. “I will. See you on Monday.”
I smiled, hitched my bag onto my shoulder, and left the building feeling a little flat. Mentioning Jason made me miss him. I had the weekend to get through without him and the prospect wasn’t a happy one. I sat in my car and pulled out my phone.
“What’s the plan this weekend?”
“We’re going to get smashed.”
“Oh, dear… What happened?” I put my phone on speaker and started my car.
“Tuesday night was fine, then Wednesday morning he was in a mood again. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’d kick him out if he had somewhere to go, I swear.”
I left the industrial park and turned onto the main road. “Okay. Come to me, I’ll cook. I’ll go in for stuff now and be home around six.”
She agreed and hung up. I made my way to the supermarket for supplies.
I was cooking dinner while we discussed our week. I’d gotten to the part where Chantal had seen me and Jason on Monday morning, and after giving me hell for not calling her after a rough day, regardless of how busy she was with work, Haylie responded as I expected.
“So, she went around and told everyone? Little bitch,” she raged as she opened a bottle of vodka. “You should have her for it.”
I shook my head and stirred the sauce I was making. “There’s no point. To be fair, it does look set up. I said it myself. Tony didn’t seem bothered, and Jase says he had nothing to do with it, but I knew how it looked before I accepted.”
“Doesn’t sound like Tony gave you a choice.” She handed me a vodka and orange. “What’s he like, anyway?”
“He’s nice,” I said, turning off the hob and moving my attention to layering pasta and sauces in a deep dish. “I haven’t really spoken to him except to hand over paperwork and stuff like that. He did stop me today though, told me Jason had changed recently and thanked me for it. I don’t know what it has to do with me, but Tony seems to think I’m a positive part of his life.”
