Maid in England (The I Do Crew Book 1)

by Brenda St John Brown

  “I’m sorry.” My voice is barely above a whisper and part of me is tempted to take it all back, but I can’t. I won’t.

  He leans over and kisses me, and his lips are so soft and so gentle there’s no mistaking this kiss for anything but a kiss goodbye. He lingers, cupping my jaw for a minute, then turns on his heel and walks slowly away. I watch him go and it’s only once he turns the corner out of sight that I realize tears are streaming down my cheeks.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “I don’t understand.” Paula plays with the coaster on the bar, but her attention is on me. She texted me three times today before I told her what happened between Alastair and me, at which time she suggested an immediate girls’ night. “You broke up with him?”

  I nod because even though we weren’t officially dating – I don’t know what you’d call what we were doing – that’s not really the point.

  “I don’t want to be an afterthought. Technically, he’s the one who called it quits.” I would have done it if he hadn’t, though.

  Paula nods and spins the coaster again before she says, “So you broke up with him because you’re scared?”

  “No. I’m not scared. I’m not going to do the whole dance of trying to have a relationship with someone who’s barely present only to end up in this same place six months from now.”

  “Right. I forgot you have that crystal ball in your bag.” Paula rolls her eyes. She’s wearing bright blue eyeshadow tonight, which matches her gauzy shirt. Normally, I’d be the first one to cry fashion-don’t, but Paula makes it look cool.

  “I know what it’s like to –”

  “Date Alastair Wells when you’re twenty-two? Yes, you do. Date someone in the music business? You probably have a good idea, I’ll give you that. But do you have any idea what it’s like to date someone who’s started a new job? No matter what he was doing, he’d be busy and overwhelmed. Now add in the craziness of a festival tour?” Paula shakes her head and when she continues her tone softens. “Look, I’m on your side here, but I think it’s worth considering that you might have pulled the plug on this because of your own baggage.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” My brow furrows.

  “Of course you have.” Paula nods. “I bet you’ve also thought about what happens if things between you two progress. It’s some scary shit.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Paula takes a long swallow of her Jack and Coke then says, “I wasn’t going to do this but you’ve left me no choice. Do you need another drink? Because it’s time for an episode of Life Lessons with Paula.”

  “Life Lessons with Paula?” I hold up my glass, which is still over half-full. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “I’m not a fan of this sort of thing. It’s preachy and that’s not my style. But this is for your own good.” Paula drains her glass in one go, then turns so her knees are knocking against mine. The intensity in her expression alarms me a little as she starts. “Two years ago, I had a very serious boyfriend. He was called Cal and he was a pharmaceutical sales rep, a total high flier. We met at a New Year’s Eve party and hit it off like whoa. By the time I knew what he did for a living, I was already smitten, so I ignored the fact that he was a capitalist, which was – and is – completely at odds with my ideology. His version of giving back was throwing a hundred pounds at a problem, and all the better if he could do it online.”

  I squirm a little because two months ago – hell, one month ago – that was me to a tee.

  “He came around, though. He volunteered with me at the soup kitchen and did a few charity events with me on the weekends. The charity I worked for was small, so whenever we had an event it was an all hands kind of thing, and he came along sometimes as moral support. Then he invited me to his company’s summer barbecue.” Paula takes a deep breath in and she looks like she’s bracing herself.

  “I went. Of course I went. My boyfriend invited me to a works do and he’d never done that before. A barbecue was right up my street. Or it would have been if it weren’t at a stately home in the country with everyone in heels and garden dresses. I had to work so I told Cal I’d meet him there and I walked in wearing basically what I’m wearing now.” Paula waves her hand over her black skirt and points to her blue Vans. “To say I didn’t fit in is a huge understatement.”

  I wince a little on Paula’s behalf because I know exactly how she would have felt.

  “Cal was great. I don’t think he noticed what I was wearing. He was happy I came. But I couldn’t shake the fact that this was his life – but it wasn’t mine. If we stayed together, it would be more of the same. I’d always be the outsider.” I open my mouth to speak, but Paula holds up her finger. “I broke up with him a month to the day after that barbecue. I was head-over-heels in love with this guy and I broke up with him because of a version of our life I extrapolated based on that one day. Not the version of our life that we had, but the worst-case-scenario one I couldn’t get past.”

  Paula falls silent and I wait to make sure she’s not going to continue before I ask softly, “Did you ever try to get back in touch with him?”

  She nods. “About six months later, I finally got my head out of my ass and texted him. He was nice enough to reply, but he didn’t suggest getting together or anything. I went by his office and waited across the street, which I know sounds stalkerish, but I didn’t mean it that way. I thought I’d approach him in person, maybe suggest we have a drink and a catch up. I don’t know what I was going to say, but it turns out I needn’t have worried because he walked out, a woman ran up to meet him, and it was pretty clear from the way he kissed her that he’d moved on.”

  “I’m sorry.” My voice is almost a whisper.

  “The shit part of the whole thing was, the woman wasn’t all suited and sleek. She wasn’t the woman I’d envisioned as his perfect fit. She was basically me in different skin. I stood there watching them walk away and I thought, ‘That should be me. But I screwed up beyond repair.’” Paula signals the bartender for another drink and I watch her jerky movements as she gets her wallet out of her bag and her tight smile as she pays for her drink.

  “I know I already said it, but I’m sorry.” I also know it doesn’t mean anything coming from me. Not really.

  “I’m sorry, too. It sucked then and sometimes it still sucks. It’s been nine months since I went to Cal’s office and I feel like I’m getting my feet back, but I still have moments where I can convince myself I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life because I threw away the person who was meant for me based on a fucking assumption.” Paula pauses and I know it’s intentional because she threw out the F-bomb and I’ve never heard her swear. “You don’t want to do that, do you?”

  “Well, no. No. Of course not.”

  “Then don’t.” Paula drains her drink in one long swallow, places her glass neatly on her coaster, and pushes herself off her barstool. “Now I need some greasy pizza to counteract this alcohol. Are you coming?”

  “Sure. Why not?” Greasy food at ten p.m. hardly fazes me now.

  “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” Paula smiles wide. “You can buy in exchange for my words of wisdom.”

  “It seems like a fair trade.” I grin and so does Paula, but I know she didn’t tell me that story lightly, and I’m going to be turning it over in my head for a long time.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “I’m buying you a wedding gift no matter what. You may as well tell me what you want.” I’m propped up against the orange pillows on my couch talking to Bea via Facetime. She’s leaving Atlanta to fly to the UK tomorrow to start wedding prep and she’s freaking out a little bit, so I’m distracting her while she packs. “Otherwise, you might end up with a taxidermy fox or something.”

  “A taxidermy fox?” Bea stops folding her skirt and scrunches her nose up. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you won’t tell me what you want and it’s one of a kind?” I shrug. “
Don’t worry. Honestly, I don’t think you’d be able to bring it back to America with you. There’s probably a law against that sort of thing.”

  “Well if there’s not, there should be.” Bea sighs. “What do I wear for the rehearsal dinner?”

  “Reanne wore a black cocktail dress to hers.”

  “My mother will have a heart attack if I wear black to any part of my wedding.” Bea picks up a light blue lace dress from her bed. “Does this look too Real Housewives?”

  “No. It looks good. Wear that.”

  “I don’t believe you, but fine. Thank you. Your dress is all set, right? You’re not going to have any last-minute alterations that will cause me unnecessary panic?” Bea glares into the phone. The dresses aren’t a huge hit with anyone except for Scarlett, Bea’s future sister-in-law – who would look incredible wearing a plastic bag – so her question isn’t out of order.

  “My dress has been ready for a month.” I took it in for alterations as soon as I got it because of course I did.

  “Are you getting a spray tan?” Bea asks. “We’re going on Thursday before the bridal tea.”

  “Um, no.” I’ve never had a spray tan, but I probably shouldn’t start two days before I’m going to be photographed for Bea’s wedding. “Thank you anyway.”

  “But you are coming to the bridal tea, right? Lena is flying in that morning, so she’ll be jet-lagged and useless, and Nora doesn’t arrive until Friday. But if you, Scarlett, and Claire are there, it will help.” Bea’s expression is pleading.

  “Of course. I’ll be there by noon. The tea isn’t until four, right?”

  Bea nods. “It should only be a couple of hours, but my mom is making it into a big deal because Hannah’s planned it and she thinks the St Juliens are posh.”

  I think the St Juliens – Bea’s future in-laws – are posh. They own a castle, for God’s sake. A castle-turned-hotel, but still. I know better than to say this, so instead I say, “She’s nervous. You know how she gets. Once she’s here, it will all be fine. You said she and Hannah really hit it off at Christmas, right?”

  “They did. And you’re right. Hannah will talk her down. She’s good at that.” Bea holds up a long, white, sparkly dress. “This is my dress for the evening reception. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s very royal family to even have a dress for the evening reception,” I say. “I guess if you’re getting married in a castle, though, you may as well embrace it.”

  “Scarlett chose it. I think it’s more her than me, but I am trying to embrace the glamour of it all.” Bea folds the dress and lays it carefully in her suitcase.

  I’ve never met Scarlett, but I’ve seen plenty of photos and I can see her in that dress easily. Bea? Maybe. Aloud, I say, “It’s all about confidence. And I’m sure no matter what you’re wearing Jasper will be dumbstruck.”

  At the mention of her fiancé’s name, Bea smiles for the first time. “He’d damn well better be, right?”

  “As if he could be anything but.”

  “Speaking of Jasper, the guys are going out on Thursday night. They’re only going to the local pub so it’s not going to be a big night, but your date is obviously invited.” Bea raises her eyebrows at me in a silent question.

  Even if Alastair and I were still speaking, I’m not sure his current schedule would allow for a whole long weekend off for my cousin’s wedding. But we’re not, so it’s one less thing he has to juggle. To Bea I say, “About that…I’m not one hundred percent sure I’m going to have a plus-one.”

  “But you’re on the seating plan with a plus-one.”

  Bea’s the same age as Reanne –young enough that I wouldn’t have shared the details of my college relationship with Alastair – or its ultimate demise. She knows I had a serious boyfriend in college, but that’s all she knows and I’m not going into the dirty details now, so I say, “I was going to bring someone, but things have changed.”

  “Things have changed?” Bea peers at the screen, bringing her nose close. “Like changed irrevocably or you might still bring him?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’ve changed irrevocably.” I don’t try to be subtle about changing the subject. “I saw Claire and Greyson at my birthday party. Is she bringing him?”

  “Yes, and Scarlett’s bringing Bradley. Lena’s single, although she’ll probably find a date waiting in the customs line, and Nora’s coming on her own.” Bea pauses, and then says, “So do I need to rework the seating plan for the bridal party tables? Tell me now or forever hold your peace. I think a couple of the St Juliens’ friends aren’t coming now, so we’re going to be in seating-plan hell this week anyway.”

  “I doubt I’ll have a date. Is that an answer?” I know it’s not an answer.

  Bea knows it, too. “No. I really need you to confirm either way. I know I sound bitchy but –”

  “You don’t. You have every right to know who’s coming to your wedding so you can plan. I’ll find out and you’ll know by the time your plane lands in Manchester.” Contacting Alastair is the last thing I want to do, but I’ll do it. For Bea.

  Not to satisfy the little voice in the back of my head that’s been there since I went out with Paula the other night telling me I’ve been hasty. And judgmental. And unfair. And scared.

  I talk to Bea for a few more minutes, then pull up Alastair’s name in my contacts. I stare at his number for a long time before I type: Bea’s wedding is this weekend. Are you still going to be my +1? I’d really like it if you came.

  I see the three dots. Then nothing. Three more dots. Then nothing. When Alastair’s reply finally comes, it’s one word.

  Sure.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “Don’t you have any casual clothes?” Paula pushes the hangers of my closet aside. “Where are your flirty sundresses and capris?”

  I point to my skinny jeans and the T-shirt with the shoulder cut-outs I bought yesterday. “This is casual.”

  “But you can’t wear that to any of the events this weekend.” Paula frowns. “What are you going to wear for the rehearsal dinner? Or breakfast the day after the wedding?”

  I point to a pastel yellow sheath dress. “I thought that would work for the rehearsal dinner. And breakfast after the wedding? Who cares?”

  “Your date cares. I know you don’t know where things stand with him, but let’s err on the side of irresistible.”

  “Or let’s not.” My voice is firm. “I haven’t heard another word from him since he texted me the other day. If he thinks he deserves the pull-out-all-the-stops treatment, he’s mistaken.”

  “Whoa. Don’t get your feminist panties in a twist. I’m not saying he deserves anything at all, but everything in your closet screams corporate.” Paula runs her hand down the front of a camel blazer. “You have amazing taste in clothes. For work.”

  “I’m leaving in twelve hours and all of the shops are closed. What do you suggest?” I put my hands on my hips in a silent challenge. I knew I should have packed before Paula got here, but I was helping at MacMillan headquarters today and I invited her up for dinner so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy overthinking the upcoming weekend.

  “Give me a few minutes without you glaring at me like it’s your job and let me see what I can find.” Paula points to the chair in the corner of my room. “Sit.”

  “You’re very bossy, considering this isn’t your house.” I protest, but move towards the chair anyway.

  I’ve just perched on the edge when the doorbell rings from downstairs. I have one of those smart doorbells that lets you see who’s there without having to answer the door, and I open the app on my phone. I’m expecting the pizza delivery guy, but it’s Rex’s face that fills the screen and I take a sharp breath in. I haven’t heard from Rex since the day I saw him in Hyde Park. I press the talk button and say, “Hey.”

  “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Do you have a minute?” Rex is wearing a suit, which is a dead giveaway that he wasn’t, in fact, in the neighb
orhood. There are no clients in Highgate and his hotel is in Hoxton.

  I can either talk to him now or wonder what he wanted all weekend, so I press the button again and say, “Sure. I’ll be right down.” To Paula I say, “I’ve got an unexpected guest in the form of my former boss, so I’m going to be a minute.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Okay. If you’re not back in fifteen, should I strategically appear?”

  I nod slowly. “Yes, please. That might be helpful.”

  Paula nods and I stomp down the stairs, my bare feet slapping the hard wood. I pause to steel myself for a second before yanking open the front door. Rex dropping by unannounced probably isn’t a good thing, but it feels like so long since I’ve thought about him – and Tompkins Payne Cooper – that I can’t imagine what he wants.

  So when I open the door and the first thing Rex says is, “Jed and I have a proposition for you.” I don’t know how to respond.

  I wave him into the foyer and cross my arms over my chest. Then uncross them as I say, “It’s nice to see you, too. I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

  Rex shuts his eyes and shakes his head, but when he looks up, a grin plays around his mouth. “Sorry, I’ve never known you to be a stickler for social niceties.”

  “Mmm. So what’s this proposition? Do tell.” This time I cross my arms over my chest and leave them there. It feels safer somehow.

  “Full partner with the L. A. move. No more non-equity partnership.” Rex smiles like he’s offering me the Crown Jewels. His reaction isn’t crazy. Two months ago, I’d have jumped at this. Hell, one month ago I’d have jumped at this.

  Pre-Alastair.

  No, that’s not fair. My trip to Fenchurch was the catalyst, but nothing would have changed if I weren’t ready for it to change. Needing it to change. Alastair was a byproduct of those changes, not the cause of them.

  I look up at Rex, who’s studying me wide-eyed and I realize I haven’t actually spoken, so I say the only thing I can think of. “Why now?”