Maid in England (The I Do Crew Book 1)

by Brenda St John Brown

  “We need you, Remi. Jed and I both feel that L. A. is the perfect place for you, and I know the partnership has been a sticking point for you for a long time.” Rex looks so damn pleased with himself, I have to smile.

  “You and Jed feel like L. A. is the perfect place for me? Interesting. What about what I want?”

  “If you need a raise, we can talk about that, although the partnership means you’ll be tied to the profit and loss of the company, so you’ll see a significant increase with that. Housing in L. A. is expensive, but the company can subsidize that like we have here, and obviously you’ll need a car.” Rex continues talking about leasing a car, but I zone out the words and focus on his face.

  He never once meets my eyes. He looks at my shoulder, at my lips, and the messy bun on top of my head, but not once does he look me in the eye. When he finishes talking, he looks around my foyer like he’s never been here before, which is what confirms it for me. He’s here to sell me – and offer whatever it takes for me to bite.

  Part of me is tempted to see how far he’d go. But a bigger part of me is glad I recognize that it’s a good offer under questionable circumstances. If I were really an asset to the firm, this would have been the offer from the start. My voice is soft when I say, “I thought we were friends, Rex.”

  Rex sighs. “We are friends, darling.”

  “Then why are you doing this?” I ask. “Friends want what’s best for each other.”

  “Of course I want what’s best for you, but everything in my life is tied up in this company.” Rex says this like it’s an explanation.

  “But what about my life? That’s what we’re talking about here.”

  “I’m not trying to be malicious, Remi, but what life? Sure, you’ve been volunteering recently, I guess, but the Remi Cooper I know works. Period.” Rex does meet my eyes this time and his flash with confusion.

  “That’s true, and that’s on me. But I’m starting to realize it doesn’t have to be that way.” I cross my arms tighter over my chest because my heart’s suddenly started doing a tango in there. I’ve thought about this, but I haven’t said any of it out loud, even to myself. “This isn’t what I want – not the move, not the job, not Jed’s crass disregard. So, thank you, but you can tell Jed I’ve refused your offer and I’ll submit my formal resignation next week.”

  “You’re serious? You won’t find another opportunity like this and if you think Jed will let you waltz off with your existing clients, that isn’t going to happen.” Rex’s brow furrows, the creases so deep his forehead looks like the Panama Canal is running through it.

  “I don’t have any clients. Alastair Wells was my sole client, and he’s flown the nest now, so to speak. A more cynical soul would think someone planned it that way.” The doorbell rings and although it startles me, I smile. “That will be my pizza. I’d invite you to join me for a slice, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

  “You won’t be able to live here anymore. Tompkins Payne Coo–” Rex stops himself, then says, “The company owns your house.”

  I pull the door open for the pizza man, digging a twenty out of the pocket of my shorts. I pay and balance the pizza on one hand, holding the door open with the other, and nod towards the door. “I’ll make arrangements to move and let you know when the property will be vacant.”

  Rex steps over the threshold, but turns at the last minute, saying, “I think you’re making a big mistake, Remi. As a friend, I feel obligated to –”

  This time it’s my brow that furrows. “I understand you’re trying to protect your company, but the way this has been handled doesn’t feel much like friendship to me. I’m closing the door now. Good night.”

  It takes pretty much all of my self-restraint not to slam the door, but I manage to shut it softly before letting myself sink against the wood and slide down to the floor. I’m sitting there staring at the pizza box when I hear Paula’s tentative footsteps on the stairs. She stops at the second stair from the bottom and says, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I nod slowly. “I hate that it’s come to this. Then I think of how easily I could still be caught up in all of that and I feel worse.”

  Paula descends the last two stairs and sits down on the floor opposite me. “But you’re not caught up in it. Not anymore.”

  “No.” I manage a small smile. “I’m unemployed, though, and soon-to-be homeless.”

  “There’s a job at MacMillan with your name on it if you want it, so that solves that problem. And you’re not homeless, you’re moving out of Zone Three to where the action is, and frankly, not a minute too soon.” Paula reaches for the pizza and flips open the lid. “I think you’ve already landed on your feet and this was the final walking away.”

  It feels that way to me, too, although it doesn’t mean I’m not still sad about Rex. We were friends. Maybe we will be again, but it’s going to take a while for me to get over his power play with Jed, even if I do understand the reasoning behind it. I take a slice of cheesy pizza and bite into it. I don’t speak again until I’ve swallowed and then I say, “So, speaking of landing on my feet, did you find anything in my closet that meets your approval?”

  Paula grins and nods. “I did. Bring the pizza and I’ll show you. Alastair Wells won’t be able to resist you.”

  I rise from the floor, pizza in hand. “He’s had no problem so far. You realize that, right?”

  “And you realize the resistance is the other way around, right?” Paula rises and turns back up the stairs, calling back to me, “We’ve been through this. Don’t make me bring out another Life Lessons from Paula.”

  “What was the lesson again? I forget?” I call after her, grinning.

  Paula stops on the stairs so quickly I almost ram her with the pizza box. “Stop thinking. Your motto for the weekend has Nike written all over it. Just do it.”

  “I’m not sure it’s really going to be that kind of weekend.” I laugh.

  Paula winks and continues up the stairs, “Oh, honey, it will be if you’re doing it right.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  I haven’t texted Alastair again. I chickened out and sent him all of the relevant details about the weekend via email. He hasn’t emailed me back. So I don’t know if he’s going to be at Castle Calder or not when my taxi pulls up the drive. Still, the way my palms are sweating it’s an anti-climax when there’s not a soul in sight as the cab comes to a stop. Or as I drag my bag up the three steps to the front door –seriously, what’s with the steps? – or as I walk into the foyer. If I didn’t know there was a wedding here this weekend, I’d assume I was in the wrong place.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  Nothing. Not even the sound of footsteps in the distance on the gleaming wooden floors.

  I glance around. There’s a big tapestry of a guy on a horse covering one wall and a big wall of windows, which makes the foyer bright and airy. It’s not nearly as imposing as I thought it would be.

  I call out another hello and wander over to the desk, which holds a large vase of fresh flowers. There’s a tiny bell and a hand-written sign that says, Ring for attention. I hate when there’s a bell – I always feel like the person would be there if they could – but I press the little silver button on top.

  Footsteps clatter down the hall to my left and I turn to see Bea striding toward me wearing running clothes. From the way her skin glistens, she’s been jogging, but she runs up and throws her arms around me. “Remi. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I squeeze her tightly before stepping back because I love Bea, but I can barely handle my own sweat. “Hey. Congratulations. Running off some stress?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t you know it? The parents are in the bar if you want to go say hello. Or I can show you to your room first?”

  Based on Bea’s detailed email, the wedding party are the only ones staying at Castle Calder itself. My parents, Bea’s parents, and old family friends of the St Juliens are staying at a country pub about a mile dow
n the street, and everyone else is staying in Windermere, which is about twenty minutes away. “Is anyone else from the wedding party here yet?” I ask.

  Bea nods. “Scarlett and Claire are here, and Bradley and Greyson, obviously, although Greyson’s not in the wedding party. Lena and Henrik are stuck in New York, but I’m trying not to stress about that. Jasper’s groomsmen – Ben and Ethan – are arriving tonight in time for boys’ night out.”

  “And your college friend, Nora, arrives tomorrow?” When Bea nods I ask, “So who’s Jasper’s fifth groomsman?”

  “His dad is his best man, remember?” Bea smiles softly. “Jasper said he didn’t have that many friends to ask, but even if he had twenty guys to choose from, he still would’ve asked his dad.”

  “That’s right. That’s really sweet.”

  “It is.” Bea puts her hands on her hips. “So, your room first or parental units first?”

  I probably should see my parents, and my aunt and uncle, but I say, “Room, please.”

  “Damn.” Bea frowns. “I knew I should have made that bet with myself. You would have owed me a glass of wine.”

  “I’ll buy you a glass of wine anyway. Hell, you’re the bride. I might buy you a bottle.” I grin and pick up my case. “So where am I staying in this gorgeous place?”

  Bea heads towards the stairs, “Follow me.”

  She talks about the schedule for the afternoon, but I’m too busy gaping at the castle to pay much attention. The castle isn’t over-the-top opulent, but the details are gorgeous. The carving on the banister on the stairwell, the paintings in the hallway, the silver skeleton key in the lock of my room that Bea hands to me after pushing open the door are all tiny things that add up to remind me that I’m in a very special place, indeed.

  I step into my room and the large four-poster bed makes me grin from ear to ear. “Remember when you went through your Princess and the Pea phase and you insisted the princess had a bed like this? Every time I read you that story, you were adamant.”

  Bea grins. “I know. I purposely chose this room for you and I cannot guarantee there’s no pea under the mattress.”

  “Where are you staying again? Because if you’ve done something to my bed, I swear I’ll hunt you down, even if it is your wedding night.”

  “Can’t tell. Won’t tell.” Bea giggles. “I’ll leave you to unpack and change if you want, but if you’re hungry, there’s food in the bar or you can always find something in the kitchen. Lou, the chef, is amazing, but tread softly if she’s in the zone. I need to go shower and exfoliate for my spray tan. Is there anything you need before I go?”

  “Um…” I don’t know how to ask, so I blurt it out. “You haven’t seen Alastair Wells by any chance, have you?”

  “Is he your date?” Bea’s eyebrows go up. It doesn’t escape me that her recognizing his name is proof how far Alastair’s star has risen this past month, because Bea’s musical taste is pop hits, through and through.

  “I think so? It’s complicated.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.

  “Sorry, I haven’t seen him yet.” Bea’s lower lip sticks out in a small pout.

  “No worries. I’ll text him to see where he is.” My shoulders sag. I didn’t expect Alastair to beat me here, but the fact is, I don’t know when he’s coming. A small part of me wonders if he’s coming at all.

  “If you need me to sic Bradley on him, I’m sure we can do that. He’s Scarlett’s beau, but between you and me, he’s a bit formidable.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” I paste on a smile. “You should go get ready, unless you’re planning to get spray tanned in your running gear?”

  “God, no. Imagine the tan lines.” Bea heads for the door. I haul my suitcase up on the luggage rack at the end of my bed and am undoing the zipper when Bea opens the door and says, “Um, Remi?”

  “Yes?” I turn and my hands freeze on my case. Standing outside my door holding the handle of a wheelie suitcase is Alastair.

  Bea whips around to look at me, then Alastair, then me again before she slips out the door without another word. My heart races and the air in the room feels thin. I try to swallow, but I can’t seem to manage it. So I do the only thing I can. I cross the room in three steps and throw my arms around Alastair, burying my face in his chest.

  He stands frozen for five seconds too long. My brain has just started to register that he hasn’t moved when his arms slide around my waist, then down my back to lift me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he walks us into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

  I haven’t looked at his face, but I lift my head with the sound of the door slamming. Alastair’s eyes are shiny and I can’t read the expression on his face at all. It takes me two tries to speak and when I do my voice comes out husky. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “I said I would be.” Alastair squeezes his eyes shut, but he doesn’t put me down. “There’s no place I’d rather be. No one I’d rather be with. When you left me that night in London, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

  I bite my lip and loosen my legs, trying to put my feet back on the floor. Alastair doesn’t loosen his grip. “Are you going to put me down?”

  “Not if it means you’re going to run away from me again.” Alastair’s lip turns up at the corner, but it’s not a smile. “I’m prepared to hold you here until you believe we can do this.”

  “I believe we can do this.” I force myself to look in his eyes and I’m not going to lie, it’s hard. But the next words come easily. “I love you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared.”

  “I’m scared, too. I’m scared of making the same mistakes, not being the man you need me to be. But the one thing I’m not scared of are my feelings for you.” Alastair’s gaze is so intent, I feel myself start to blush. “I love you, Remi.”

  A million things fly through my head like a film on fast-forward. Seeing Alastair for the first time at the Swan with Two Necks. Sexy spaghetti. The photo album of our engagement in Toronto. Shooting the video for ‘Pleading.’” The first night we spent together. The last night we spent together.

  I tighten my legs around his waist and bring my forehead to his. “You know when Rex told me I was going to be working with you, I was dreading it.”

  Alastair’s brow furrows. “I have no doubt about that.”

  “I almost left that very first day after I saw you in the Swan.” I mean, okay, I didn’t really almost leave at all. But I thought about it. “Seeing you again was hard because even before you were standing right in front of me, I realized I probably never stopped loving you. And when you were right there, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.”

  Alastair gently sets me on the floor and lifts my chin until I meet his eyes. Then he kisses me softly on the lips and says, “I know I never stopped loving you. The only difference between then and now is that I know what it’s like to lose you, and I’ll move heaven and earth not to do that again.”

  He kisses me then, and it feels suggestive and sultry and oh-so-sexy. But most of all – best of all – it feels like home.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  My bridesmaid dress is as pink as I feared it would be. It’s also kind of tight in the boobs because eating real food has caused me to gain a little weight and it seems to have settled mostly in my chest. Needless to say, I think this is good karma of the highest order – I’ve obviously done something right to deserve this – and Alastair is a fan, as well.

  As evidenced by him peeking down my cleavage like a horny fifteen-year-old as I lean on the bar waiting for our drinks. I elbow him in the side. “You’d think you would have had your fill of those last night.”

  Three times. And once this morning.

  “Never.” Alastair grins. “You’re definitely going to have to keep that dress around.”

  I laugh. “No guarantees. I might lose it in the move.”

  “I’m helping you move, remember? This dress is coming with you.”

  So the oth
er thing Alastair and I have done since he arrived - in between making love - was talk. About the past. About the future. His dreams. My dreams. How to make this relationship work, both short and long term. We decided that it makes sense for me to find an apartment in London until Christmas, with plenty of visiting on both sides. Alastair’s booked on a UK tour this fall and neither one of us think it would be fair to me or Sarah for us to be thrown into living together when he’s not even going to be there. One possibility is that he and Sarah will move to London, but it seems more likely that I’ll move to Fenchurch next year.

  Which feels right to me, even though it’s a huge step. We didn’t talk about Ziggy, but I can’t imagine him going from free-range wandering to walking on a leash down the London sidewalks. He could do it, of course, but the other thing I brainstormed about was building a consultancy, which would mean I could work from anywhere - and there are plenty of potential clients in the North. A quick Google search had me itching to make some notes about future contacts, although Alastair helped me put that out of my head pretty quickly.

  His finger runs down my bare arm. “Hey, you’re a million miles away. Everything okay?”

  “It’s good. I was thinking.” I smile as the bartender places my drinks down in front of me. I take one and hand it to Alastair, but when I go to grab the other, there’s already a hand wrapped around my glass.

  “Aren’t you kind, getting your mother a drink,” says my mom.

  Truth? I’ve been actively avoiding her all weekend. So far it’s been easy. Being in the bridal party has given me a built-in buffer. But now she’s here and her eyes are trained firmly on Alastair. I hand her the drink and say, “Certainly. Here you go.” Then because I can’t ignore the elephant in the room, I say, “You remember Alastair.”

  “Of course, I do.” My mom nods and Alastair offers his hand for her to shake. It feels too formal to me but a cheek kiss would have been worse.