Chapter 6 December 6th #2
I blink and pull my thoughts into line. “I took this job two years ago.” It was a lifesaver.
“It was supposed to be a two-year project but I’m no closer to improving the numbers than when I first walked into TF Shipping, which is really hard for me to admit because I’ve done this a dozen times in my career, with success. ”
“My father lived by the rule that if something is draining you, walk away.”
His father. The first mention of any family. “Who said I was drained?”
“Your entire aura.”
I clear my throat and focus on my coffee, my hands wrapped around it. “It’ll work out.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then it doesn’t,” I reply simply. I’ve lost a lot more than my work reputation in this world. I’ll live, for what living is worth. Which isn’t much now. My life; it’s just a crawl through a never-ending hell. “Does your father live in London?”
“He’s dead.”
I flinch. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I hated him.” Dec finishes blowing his coffee and downs it. “Do you want my advice?”
“On what?”
“Your job.”
“Go on.”
“You can’t pull a company into shape if you don’t have the full commitment of the owner.”
“I know that,” I say, sounding bored. “I need another year.”
“Why?”
“So I can get it in its best shape.”
“You already wasted two years. You want to waste another?”
“I’m being paid.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“I didn’t realise I was signing up for a career coaching session when I agreed to lunch.”
“Are you enjoying it?” he repeats.
I sit back, wondering if he thinks my job forms part of the black cloud that’s casting a shadow over my life. “No.” It’s a distraction, that’s all. A distraction that turned into a challenge, which made it an even better distraction. “Do you enjoy what you do?” I fire back.
“Yes.”
“What do you love so much about it?”
“Succeeding. Achieving.” His lovely brow hitches a smidge. “Power.”
“Are you an egomaniac?”
“No, Camryn. Are you?”
On reflection, I think I used to be. I was a ball-breaker.
Top of my game. Now? Now I operate on fear.
Not fear of losing respect in my field or failing, or even not being able to afford to pay my rent, but fear of not having a job, and failing could mean I lose my job.
“I’m not an egomaniac.” Although I’m one hundred percent certain every employee at TF Shipping, including my boss, his wife, and his son, would disagree.
“I do, however, expect respect in the workplace.”
“As you should.” Dec’s phone rings again, and he sighs, looking at me in apology.
“It’s fine, you take it.”
“It’s my assistant,” he says, taking his phone to his ear. “Tina.” He listens, his eyes squinting. “Thanks.” Hanging up, he turns his phone in his hold. “I have to go.”
“Me too.” I stand and swing on my coat. “But this was nice,” I add, the words coming from nowhere. “Short but nice.” I frown to myself as I collect my bag and Dec stands.
“Take your coat off.”
“What?”
“Your coat, Camryn. Take it off.”
“But I just put it on.” I glance down my front.
“Because we’re leaving.” Returning my eyes to Dec, I see impatience past the glittery grey of his gaze.
It’s beyond me why I do, but I place my bag on the table and slowly get out of my coat as Dec rounds the table and claims it.
Then he moves in behind me and holds it up for me to slip my arms in.
On an unsure smile, I do as I’m being silently bid, then I hold my breath when he moves into my back and reaches around me to tie the belt, virtually hugging me from behind.
I savour his closeness. The feel of this man’s warmth.
His stubble grazes my cheek, his smell overwhelming me. “Now we can go,” he murmurs in my ear. He must feel my shudder. “Ready?”
No. No, I’m not ready. But I nod anyway, accepting my bag when he hands it to me, and let him lead me out of the deli. When he walks in the direction of Regent Street—therefore away from The Strand where he works—I tug him to a stop. “You don’t have to walk me back.”
“I want to.”
“But you have to go,” I remind him.
“I like walking with you, so I’ll walk with you.” He pulls me on, and I follow, at the mercy of his hand holding mine tightly. And I’m smiling again. It’s small, but it’s there.
The crowds vanish, the world vanishes.
It’s beautiful.
A small part of my mind is yelling at me, trying to break through this unfamiliar sense of peace, trying to remind me that getting close to anyone isn’t an option for me anymore.
Right now, while I’m holding his hand, it’s easy to ignore it.
But I know it will eventually catch up with me.
Because how long can we do this without actually getting to know each other? Our histories. My pain. My demons.
This has an expiry date, and I really don’t want it to.
With a few directions from me, Dec delivers me back to my office, and we stand on the pavement, face to face. “Don’t go to the bar tonight,” he says out of the blue, catching me off guard.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t be there.”
“Oh.” I drop my gaze to my shoes, disappointed. “Is that why we did lunch with no lunch?”
“Yes. Tell me you won’t go to the bar tonight.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
Because now I know I won’t see you, I’ll need a drink. “Because I want to go to the bar tonight.” Not that bar. Any bar.
He takes one step closer, looking down at me, our chests one inhale away from touching. “Please.”
He knows. But he doesn’t know. “Okay,” I whisper, wondering what the hell my mouth is playing at.
And my heart. What business does it have beating so fast around this man?
And my head. It’s thinking things it shouldn’t be thinking.
“I won’t go.” I look up at him and see his appreciation. “When will I see you again?”
“Get your phone,” he orders gently, pulling his from his coat pocket and holding a hand out for mine. I unlock it and pass it to him, and he types in his number and calls himself. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” I don’t have a moment to wonder if he will kiss me, because I’m suddenly completely enveloped in his body, being hugged like I never knew I needed to be hugged. My arms lift to his back and hold on, every inch of me softening into him. I really like being held by you, Dec Ellis.
He’s pulling away too soon. “Speak later,” he says, turning and leaving me on the pavement, desperate for another one of those hugs.
“Speak later,” I whisper, as always, unable to rip my eyes away from him walking away.
“Dec,” I call. He stops and turns. “I can’t have children.
” What the hell am I saying? Where did that come from?
“I mean—” Oh God, he must think I’m completely off my rocker.
We’ve had a few drinks. A few walks. I pull up and rewind.
No. It’s more than that. Because I thought I was emotionally dead, and yet he’s made me start feeling again.
“I can’t have children,” I say again, my eyes focused past him, something inside unwilling to see his reaction.
“Camryn,” he calls, and I dare to look at him. “Me neither.”
My entire being deflates, the rush of air that leaves me making the top half of my body fold over, too much to hide my relief. And my lip wobbles. My eyes sting. My heart bursts. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he mimics. “Can I go, now you’ve got that off your chest?”
“You don’t smile much.”
“Neither do you.”
“I smiled earlier when you asked me to lunch.”
And he smiles. It’s like the sun breaking through a black, stormy cloud. And I think I fall in love with him on the spot. The thought jars me.
Fuck.
I pivot on my heels, hurrying into the building.
Smiling.