Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Zara
T his week has been soooo long already, and it’s still only Wednesday. Another whole week before I see Dean again. I’ve been in sort of a dreamy haze, waiting for whatever is going to happen. I just have this feeling of being on the edge of something wonderful, of my life about to change.
I wonder where we’ll live when we get married. I’ve heard Dubai is lovely, and I don’t really have many ties in London, apart from Eloise. Although it now looks as though I’ll be working at MB Holdings for the foreseeable future.
When Myles called me into his office yesterday afternoon, I never imagined he’d offer me a permanent job.
But he did. Sitting across from me, his grey eyes warmer than usual as he told me he liked my recommendations for the women’s clothing line, and would I be interested in a design assistant role once Eloise’s cover ends.
I’d jumped at the chance, of course, but at the same time, something about the fact I won’t be working directly for him anymore made me unaccountably sad.
It’s such a fantastic opportunity, though.
I love the Ocean’s Curl brand, and the thought of working in the Soho office is exciting.
I might have to ask Dean what the chances are of him being transferred back to London.
Or maybe we can divide our time between the two places, somehow.
As though he knows I’m thinking about him, my phone buzzes and a message pops up.
Not long now, darling xx
I sigh, clutching my phone to me like it’s a perfumed love letter from a Regency swain, as though Mr Darcy has swanned in and put his name on my dance card.
“What are you looking all gloopy about?” The question is accompanied by a giggle, and I blink. Georgia is standing by my desk, grinning at me.
“Oh God, sorry!” I flush, putting my phone down. “You need those papers back from Myles, don’t you?”
“Not urgently. Whenever you like. I actually wanted to ask if you want to have a drink tomorrow night? I know it’s a bit short notice but I’m going with some friends to karaoke, a last-minute thing.”
“Karaoke?”
“You only have to sing if you want to. Come onnnn, it’ll be fun. Unless you have other plans?”
“No other plans. All right, yes, I’d love to!” The last bit comes out a bit more enthusiastically than I mean to, but I’m just so excited. Apart from Eloise I don’t have many other people in my life to tell. I told my housemate’s cat, but he didn’t seem that bothered.
“All right. What’s going on?” Georgia crosses her arms, a twinkle in her eye.
“It has been the craziest week. Like, it’s mad.” I tell her about Dean, and we both squeal with excitement, clapping our hands over our mouths. “And then Myles offered me a permanent job, and Big Red came in and gave me a gift.”
“A gift? What’d she give you?”
I open my desk drawer and take out the wallet, still in its box. I haven’t been sure what to do with it, to be honest. It’s just such a weird thing for Katya to have done, and accepting the gift somehow feels as though I’m colluding with her against Myles.
Georgia’s eyes widen. “Holy shit, Zara. That’s gorgeous!”
“I know, right?” I pick up the wallet. “I don’t know why she did it, but it was so nice.”
“Nice? Not something Big Red is known for. Turn around.”
“What? Why?”
“Just checking for knives.” She giggles. “Go on, open it then. She might have put cash in it.”
“A pay-off. A fiver for every time she’s been a bitch.”
“I’m not sure it’s a big enough wallet for that.”
We’re both giggling as I unzip the wallet, revealing a magenta leather interior. But it won’t quite open all the way and, when I peer inside, I can see something stuck in one of the pockets. I poke it, then burst out laughing.
“What is it? Is it money?”
But I can’t stop laughing enough to tell her, so I just hold out the wallet. Georgia takes it from me and looks inside. “Is that…” She pokes at it with her finger. I’m laughing so hard tears are coming from my eyes.
“It’s gum,” I manage to gurgle. “It’s a used wallet.”
Georgia is laughing almost as hard as I am. She zips up the wallet, handing it back to me. I put it in the box and shove it in the drawer.
“Glad to know all is right with the world again,” she splutters. “I knew that was too nice of her!”
“Maybe I can sell it on eBay. ‘Complete with supermodel gum.’”
We both fall about giggling again. Then there’s the click of a door closing. Georgia’s eyes widen and she stops laughing.
“Everything all right out here?”
“Uh, yes. Sorry.” Belatedly I realise how loud we’re being. I turn to Myles, wiping a tear from my eye. “Sorry,” I say again.
His eyes are twinkling, though. “Don’t let me stop you,” he says. “Is there something you need, Georgia?”
“Uh, no. I just… actually, I like Zara’s flowers and I wondered where she got them. Thought we might order some for the HR office.”
“I don’t know, actually,” I say. “They’re just here, every few days. I can find out, though.”
“No need.” Myles’s voice is slightly strained, and the twinkle is gone from his gaze. “They’re from me, actually. A gesture of my, er, appreciation. For your hard work.”
I have no idea what to say. I feel as though I’ve tumbled down some sort of crazy Alice-In-Wonderland rabbit hole, where boys want to marry me and supermodels give me expensive gifts and my boss, who I thought disliked me, has been buying me flowers.
“Right.” Georgia glances from me to Myles. “Right. Um, okay, so, Zara, I’ll talk to you later?”
“Sure.” Myles seems like he’s about to say something to me, but instead he turns and goes back into his office.
I watch him as he goes.
Myles
It’s quiet in my penthouse apartment. One of several I own around the world. All in major cities, all with the best views and every amenity I could ever desire. And all empty, except for me.
The kettle boils. I pour hot water over the bag in the glass mug, releasing the fresh scent of mint.
Nothing stronger for me tonight, or any night.
Not anymore. I used to enjoy a drink, tossing back beers with friends, savouring expensive wines with my meals.
But that all changed the night a friend of mine went off a cliff, drink-driving, and took a couple of innocent people with him.
Left a mess behind that I did my best to clean up.
It’s been over a year now but the scar is still there, along with all the others.
I spoke to my father today. It’s the least I can do, I suppose.
He seems fine. I’ve tried to help him so much over the years.
But when he decided he was owed a piece of my business, I had to pull back.
I cut him some slack, even then; he was never the same after Mum died.
He tried to replace her a couple of times, but when his third wife left him a few years ago, trying to take a chunk of what he’d built with her, he seemed to resign himself to the fact he never would.
He’s in a care home now, one of the best, after a stroke left him permanently disabled.
I visit him as often as I can, pay for the best therapists, make sure his every need is catered for.
I still love the old man, despite everything.
I stare out across the glittering sprawl of London, the river like a dark snake winding between the buildings. I feel edgy, restless somehow, despite the punishing workout with my trainer earlier.
I need to get in the water. The upcoming trip to Morocco couldn’t have come at a better time, if I’m honest. Besides business, it’s an excuse to surf and be just Myles for a week or so, rather than Myles Brandon, billionaire entrepreneur.
I’m glad Scott is booked to come with me rather than Katya, especially as I’ve ended things with her.
She didn’t take it well, predictably, despite the fact she broke it off with me three times beforehand.
At least I won’t be in the office next week, so I won’t have to deal with whatever stunt she decides to pull.
I’ll make sure security keeps her out of the building, so Zara doesn’t have to deal with it, either.
She’s on my mind, of course. That lightning-bolt moment where we stared at each other, when I told her about the flowers.
Why the hell I did that, I still don’t know.
But I’m not sorry. I make sure she has fresh flowers on her desk every few days, as a sort of apology for being short with her.
Or maybe just to make myself feel better.
God, the way she looked, pink from laughter, her eyes sparkling. I want to make her laugh like that, want to see her head go back, see her lose control. But the thought of her losing control takes my mind to other places, and I pull it back.
I sip my tea and stare out at the city and try not to think too much at all. Then I go to bed.
I wake, suddenly, a few hours later, and turn over, the sheets smooth against my skin.
It’s good to have space again, to be honest. Katya liked to twine herself around me at night, almost suffocating me.
I finally feel as though I can breathe. It’s still dark and I blink, wondering what’s woken me.
Then my phone buzzes. I grab it from the teak bedside table.
There are several messages on the screen and a missed call, all from Scott.
I frown, rubbing a hand over my face as I sit up.
I press play on the first of the messages.
“Hey, Myles.” Scott’s voice sounds strangely slurred. “At the hospital, uh, yeah.” There’s muffled talking and then someone else takes over. “Myles, it’s Sally. He’s broken his ankle, really badly.” Her voice is shaking. My heart sinks. “We’re at the hospital now, will keep you posted.”
The next message is also from Sally. “He’s had to go in for surgery to repair it.
I don’t know how long he’s going to be out of the office.
” She sounds weary and I check the time of the message.
2am. What the fuck happened? I don’t bother checking any of the other messages, immediately calling Scott’s number.
Sally answers. “Hello?”
“Sal, it’s Myles. What the hell is going on? You okay?”
“Oh, Myles.” I can hear the relief in her voice.
“You won’t believe this. You know we’re going skiing later this year…
well, we were… Anyway, Scott decided to take Aaron to try skiing at one of those indoor slopes last night, and somehow managed to snap his ankle.
Aaron says he was trying trick jumps, honestly. ”
I can imagine her rolling her eyes, and try not to laugh, despite how serious this sounds.
“Sal, don’t worry. Just make sure Scott is taken care of, and that you’re all okay. Tell him to take the time he needs to heal. He can come back when he’s able.”
“He won’t be able to go with you to Morocco next week. You going to be okay with that? Is there someone else you can take instead?”
“Honestly, don’t worry. Just take care of yourselves and let me know if you need anything. I can sort the rest out.”
I hear someone else speaking, distantly, then Sally comes back to me. “I have to go, but thanks, Myles. I’ll be in touch. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I hang up, then rub my chin, thinking.
Screw the trip. The main thing is that Scott is okay. I can manage the business side of things by myself. What I need is someone to manage all the other stuff. My mind flits to a possibility.
No.
I can’t do it. Not to her, nor to myself.
But at the same time, it makes a hell of a lot of sense. Who better to take on a business trip than my personal assistant? I just have to make sure to keep it professional, that’s all.
A couple of hours later, I’m in the office.
It’s still early, but it gives me time to gather my thoughts and prepare myself.
I’m still questioning the wisdom of my decision, can almost hear the lawyers’ voices in my head.
Maybe I’m punishing myself, considering how I feel about her, how she makes me feel.
But at the same time, I didn’t get where I am today without taking risks.
And this, while it feels like a risk, also feels like a rush.
The most exciting decision I’ve made in a long time.
I can’t think too much about why that is.
All I can do is go with it and see what happens, while trying to remember that nothing is supposed to happen between us.
While she’s working for me, anyway.
As my gaze goes to her still empty desk, I feel something else in my chest. Uncertainty. I can’t remember the last time I felt that. But I don’t know if she’ll say yes. And, I realise, I want her to. I need her.