by Sofia Grey
“There has to be a simple answer.” Jordan sounded as calm and unruffled as usual. “We’ll split up and go find him. He can’t have gone far. Everyone got their cell phones?” As though it was normal practice to go searching in his garden, Jordan organised the group into pairs. He sent Kate with Mick, and Aiden with Charlie. Rico went with Sylvie, and they set off into the night.
It was surreal. Music continued to blare from the tent, and all around them were sounds of people laughing and talking and enjoying themselves. Sylvie clutched Rico’s hand, her mind whirling in circles. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?
He grunted, and her anxiety continued to spiral.
They hadn’t been out long, when their phones both buzzed. It was a text from Kate. Aiden found Marcus, asleep in his hire car. Sylvie let out a relieved sigh. “I’m glad the drama is over. Should we go back to the party?”
“I’ll go see if they need any help with him,” said Rico. “You wanna come with me? And then I think we should have a dance before the DJ finishes.”
“You’re on.”
With his arm around her shoulders, they headed down the driveway and found everyone gathering around a silver car.
“He’s out cold,” announced Kate, and brandished a whisky bottle. “He’s had Jordan’s malt.”
Louisa arrived with Jordan. She gazed at her snoring husband and scrubbed her hands over her face. “He was behaving so strangely. I was worried, and here he is. I can’t leave him like this.”
“We’ll carry him into the house,” said Jordan. He and Rico hauled Marcus out of the car, and something shiny dropped from his lap.
“There’s his phone.” Louisa bent and picked it up. A second later she whimpered, her gaze fixed on the phone screen. “Where’s Alex?” Her voice was a croak.
Sylvie shoved her hands into her pockets, cold now Rico was no longer by her side. “I don’t know. Maybe he went home?”
“I need to see him.” Louisa hiked up her long skirt, turned, and ran.
* * * *
The evening had a dreamlike quality for Marianne—the giant wedding tent; Event Horizon performing for a private party; AJ singing to her and now holding her in his arms. Maybe it was all a dream, brought on by the exhaustion of clearing up the flooded datacentre? Would she jolt awake and find herself on the plane or in the car? This was too good to be real.
They stood underneath a tree, entwined around each other, a stone’s throw from the tent. The music was quieter here. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heart thumping. It was cold out here, and she didn’t have a coat. Her party frock wasn’t designed for midnight strolls in the middle of winter, and she shivered.
“Let me warm you.” AJ shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
He cupped her cheeks with warm hands and gazed into her eyes. “Fuck. I missed you.” That was what Marcus said, the day when they fucked on his desk.
She wrenched her thoughts back. AJ was going to kiss her again. When their lips met earlier, during the break between sets, she put her heart and soul into the kiss. It felt odd, though. AJ had a goatee now, and she wasn’t sure she liked facial hair. Marcus was always clean shaven. And why was she thinking about him now?
“You live next door? I didn’t know that.” She tugged the jacket across the front of her dress and shifted her feet. One of her heels sank into the grass. Fuck. They were satin Kurt Geigers and cost a fortune. They’d be ruined if she didn’t move soon.
“That gives me a great idea. We’ll get some privacy there.” He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath beer scented. “It’s a short walk across the grass. And the stream. Can you jump in that dress?”
What? “No. You’re joking, right?”
He huffed a laugh and dropped an affectionate kiss on her hair. “It’s quicker than going along the road. There’s so much I want to show you. I’ve set up a new studio, and I’m writing again. That new song tonight was written for you. Did you like it?”
“For me?” She gazed at him. “You wrote a song for me?” She wanted to swoon. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done.” Apart from when Marcus blindfolded her and fucked her senseless. That wasn’t romantic, but it was hot. And dirty. Gods. It was amazing.
“I did. I was thinking about you and how it’d be when we met up again.” He slid one arm around her waist. “Come on. It’s only a couple of minutes away.”
She allowed herself to be led across the grass, grabbing him when her heels skidded on a patch of mud. This was insane—picking her way across a quagmire in stilettos. He wasn’t joking about the stream. A narrow line of water sparkled silver in the moonlight, and Marianne eyed it carefully. How the fuck did she get over that without ripping her dress or breaking her neck?
This wasn’t AJ. The guy she fell in love with was a city boy. He didn’t hike across muddy meadows. Unless he was high on something. But no. That seemed unlikely tonight. His pupils weren’t dilated. Most weird.
She hesitated on the bank. “I can’t jump,” she said. “Not dressed like this.”
“I see the problem.” He stepped into the water, and she saw it was only a couple inches deep. Still too deep for her to walk through. “Lean onto me,” he said.
She did, and then squealed when he swung her across to the other side before scrambling out.
“Job done.” He grinned, his teeth a flash of white.
“How much further?” She hated the petulant tone in her voice, but really, when she imagined hooking up with AJ again, it wasn’t anything like this.
“Not far. See the lights up ahead?”
She peered through the gloom and saw a dim light that could have been miles away. “Okay. My shoes—”
“Ain’t made for walking on grass. Yeah.” Laughter rippled through his voice.
Was he laughing at her? Marianne swallowed down her irritation. “Are you trying to be funny?”
“Yes, actually.” He sighed. “But it was a private joke. I’m sorry.” He turned his back to her and crouched low. “I’ll give you a piggyback. Hop up.”
Marianne looked at the distant lights, and then at AJ. If he stumbled on the wet grass, they’d be in worse shape. Her lovely Kurt Geigers were fucked anyway. “It’s okay. I’ll manage.”
They walked slowly together, and she liked the feel of their hands linked, although it didn’t make up for the disgusting squelching noises coming from her shoes. Finally they hit a gravel driveway, the house yards away, and she wanted to weep with relief.
AJ unlocked the door and ushered her in, pausing to kick off his boots in the hallway. Recessed lights cast a gentle glow, and Marianne risked a look at her shoes. Yep, they were trashed. It wasn’t only the mud clinging to the fabric. One of the satin bows was missing, and the heels were scratched. Wonderful. That was when she noticed her dress and gasped in horror. The trailing lace was ripped, and mud clung to the hem. She twisted to look over her shoulder, and yes, it was worse than she feared.
“I don’t have anything to change into. I can’t stay in this.” She gazed up at him, still surprised at how he looked. Was he equally surprised at how different she was?
“You look amazing. Even with a bit of mud.” His lips twitched, as though he was trying not to laugh.
It was hard, but she managed to hang onto her temper. She needed to remember she was here with AJ. Getting back with him. It would be worth it. He clearly wanted her, so maybe it was time to take charge.
“I need a shower,” she said.
****
Alex led Maz upstairs, and after a moment’s hesitation, showed her to one of the guest bathrooms, rather than taking a chance on his own en-suite. This one was stocked with fresh towels and toiletries. Also, he didn’t want to assume anything or make her feel uncomfortable.
What was she going to wear? Her dress was filthy. He rummaged in his closet and found a clean pair of boxers and a soft T-shirt, which he left out
side the bathroom. The shower was already running. She was unlikely to be long.
The adrenaline buzz was wearing off, but he felt good—relaxed and close to happy. And his brain had switched back on. Fresh off the stage and on top of the world, he might have jumped Maz, but now he wasn’t going to. Not tonight, anyway. This time, he’d do things right.
He lay back on his bed and contemplated the ceiling. He’d had enough of quick flings and one-night stands. Maz was a fresh start and—he hoped—a chance at a real relationship. When he first saw this house advertised, his goal was to hole up somewhere quiet and lick his wounds in peace. Seeing Jordan with Kate opened his eyes to new possibilities. One day he wanted to be married. To have children of his own. To write and perform with his family around him.
Could he see Maz in that picture? Maybe. At eighteen she’d been a sweet and gentle young girl, and she’d adored him. He was fresh off the rebound from Joni, love the last thing on his mind. Falling for Maz was unexpected and beautiful. She had a naivety that her older sister had never had.
Lost in thought, Alex took a second to recognise the noise from downstairs. The front door banging. He didn’t bother to lock it, since Charlie, Mick, and the others would be returning later. Shame they were back so soon, but he could always take Maz down to the studio and talk there.
“Alex, where are you?”
The shouting voice sounded like Louisa. What was she doing here? He scrambled off the bed and headed for the landing. “Louisa?”
She stood at the bottom of the stairs, her face white, apart from the mascara smudges around her wild eyes.
Christ. Whatever the matter was, she looked terrible, and Alex’s heart stuttered. “Louisa,” he repeated, and she stared at him. He raced down the stairs and caught her icy hands in his own. “What happened? Is it Sylvie? Or Jordan? Kate?” She was scaring him, and Alex didn’t like being afraid.
“Alex.” Her lips wobbled, and she rubbed her eyes, smearing her makeup further. “Is Marianne here? With you?”
Huh? “You mean Maz? Yeah.”
Louisa’s face crumpled, and she tugged her hands back, as the door opened again. In came Sylvie, with Kate and a guy Alex saw at the party.
“Where is she?” Louisa asked, her voice high. “I need to speak to her.
“She’s upstairs.” Alex turned to Sylvie. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Come here.” Kate pulled Louisa into a hug.
Sylvie touched Alex on the hand. “This is going to be ugly. Let’s sit down somewhere.”
He glanced upstairs, but there was no sign of Maz. So much for his quiet reunion with her. He trooped into the kitchen with his uninvited guests, and sat around the table.
The stranger held out a hand to him. “I know you’re Alex,” he said in a crisp, precise voice. “Aiden Bradley. I work with Rico and Marianne.”
“Yeah. Hi.” He wasn’t interested in polite introductions. He needed to know what was going on. Something to do with Maz and Louisa. Oh fuck. Realisation crashed into him as he put the pieces together. Sylvie never mentioned her boss’s name, but Rico had. “Lou? You okay?” He had a feeling she was the polar opposite of okay.
“Marcus has been cheating on me. With Marianne. Your Maz.” She spat the last word out, and Alex flinched.
“Did you know?” She studied his face. “How could you, Alex? I thought you were my friend.”
Sylvie joined in. “He didn’t know. For God’s sake, Louisa, how could he know that?” She swallowed, then spoke carefully. “Your argument is with Marcus, not Alex.”
“And Marianne,” said Louisa. “I need to ask her why she’s trying to destroy my marriage.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Marianne emerged from the bathroom, a huge white towel wrapped around her. If she asked, would AJ go to Jordan’s to retrieve her bag? She eyed the T-shirt and boxers left out for her. Hmm. Comfortable, but not particularly sexy. She heard doors opening and closing downstairs, and the muffled buzz of voices, and that made up her mind.
Not-sexy was a better bet than a towel if AJ had company. Her hair only took minutes to dry, and her makeup was non-existent, but her face felt tight without moisturiser. She didn’t look her best; that was for sure.
Charlie and Mick would most likely be staying here. If she had to see anybody, she didn’t mind facing them. With one final look in the mirror, she decided it was time and headed downstairs.
AJ’s house was huge but plain. It had the feel of a holiday rental with little personality. No artwork on the walls or colourful rugs on the floor. The bed linens and curtains were bland, but she was sure the room he led her to was a guest room.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs and oriented herself, before following the sound of the voices. Wait a moment. That sounded like a woman. The bass player?
Marianne walked into a brightly lit kitchen, a beaming smile fixed in place, only to stop in the doorway. It was more crowded than she expected. AJ, Jordan’s wife, Aiden, and Louisa stared at her, along with Sylvie. What the fuck was she doing here? Her brain played catch-up. Sylvie had been the girl playing bass. How?
Marianne would come back to that later.
Right now, from the death-stare Louisa gave her, it was clear the affair with Marcus was no longer a secret.
Marianne’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, but she refused to show weakness. Looking dignified in borrowed boxers and T-shirt was tough, but Marianne was used to facing senior managers in difficult situations and knew how to face up to hostility.
She pasted the smile back on and walked to AJ’s side, before slipping her arm around his waist. She smiled at Aiden and nodded to Sylvie. “What did I miss?” She asked nobody in particular. Rico’s warning flashed through her head. Deny everything. She’d do that.
Louisa stood, gripping the edge of the table.
If looks could kill, Marianne ought to be rolling on the floor in agony. She’d once seen Louisa arguing with Marcus. The row played out in the lobby of the Houston head office, and Louisa was formidable, her sharp tongue flaying anyone who tried to interrupt.
Staying upstairs after her shower seemed like a great idea now.
“I’ll tell you what you’re missing,” said Louisa, her voice loud in the quiet of the kitchen. “We’re going to talk, you and me.”
Marianne smiled. “How can I help? It’s Louisa, isn’t it?”
“How long have you been seeing my husband?”
“Marcus? I work for him. I’ve been running his audit team for the past few weeks.”
“You know what I mean.” Louisa snarled the words and moved a step closer. “How long have you been sleeping with him?”
A door banged, and everyone turned to see Jordan and Rico coming in. The kitchen felt decidedly crowded.
“Louisa, let’s go home.” Jordan was calm. It was easy to see he was used to being in charge. He draped an arm over Louisa’s shoulders, but she shrugged him off.
“I said, how long have you been sleeping with my husband?”
“Me?” Marianne forced a surprised laugh. “He’s my boss.”
There was a pause, and everyone looked at Louisa. She held up a cell phone. “He sent you a text tonight. I quote, I love you. Why else would he say that?”
Marianne glanced at AJ—darling AJ—and saw the doubt clouding his eyes. Oh no. She wasn’t going to let Louisa wreck this chance of happiness. “I don’t know.”
Jesus Christ. This was like Centre Court at Wimbledon. All gazes shifted back to Louisa for her next shot. She gave a grim smile and waved the phone again. “He sent you a text the other night, too. Again I’m quoting—Bourbon or champagne. Your choice. Bring condoms. Now tell me, why would he ask you to bring condoms if you weren’t having an affair?”
Fricking Marcus. Why hadn’t he deleted his text messages? Marianne went hot with anger. It was tempting to throw him under the bus, but that would be an all-time low, even for her. “I don’t know.” Her throat was tight, and she had to fo
rce the words out.
“Really?” Louisa huffed out a breath. “Your reply is interesting, considering you don’t know. You asked for champagne, made a joke, and added some kisses.” She lunged at Marianne, hands flailing. “Bitch,” she screamed and made everyone jump.
Everything happened quickly. Marianne ducked. Jordan and Rico grabbed Louisa, and Jordan held her tightly in his arms as she sobbed, as though her heart was breaking. AJ moved to stand in front of Marianne, and four more people poured through the door. For the love of God, who else wanted to be part of this audience?
It was Charlie and Mick with a couple of heavily muscled guys—probably the roadies.
As everyone stared at the newcomers, AJ slipped his hand around hers.
She looked up at him.
“Let’s go find some place a bit quieter,” he said.
Thank fuck for that. He might listen to her.
Then Charlie stood in the way.
****
Alex had never seen Charlie this serious.
“We need to talk, mate,” Charlie said. “There are things you need to hear.”
“Sure. Everyone wants to talk tonight.” Thoughts swooped and crashed inside Alex’s head, tangled together and making no sense. When he thought he had a handle on things, the world shifted beneath his feet and everything changed.
Charlie glanced around the crowded kitchen. “In private. Downstairs?”
Holding onto Maz’s hand, Alex followed Charlie into the studio and gestured for him to speak. “Go on, then.”
“I wanted to talk to you in private, but since it’s about Maz, maybe it’s right that she’s here.”
Alex was still reeling from the fact that Maz was Marcus’s lover. What new revelation could follow that?
Charlie hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Last time you got mixed up with Maz, you got fucked over. I was kinda hoping to stop you from doing the same again.”
“Bullshit,” said Maz. “How can you say that? It was always Joni. I helped AJ get over what she did.”
“Yeah, but you did enough as well. Didn’t you, Maz?”
She moved closer to Alex, as though he could shield her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
