Chapter 13
13
KATE
I nibble on my lower lip as I place the call to Willem. He’s not expecting to hear from me, and I have no idea if he’ll answer. And the longer it rings, the more I wish I’d sent a text message instead.
‘ Hallo , Kate,’ he answers eventually, his face filling the screen. From the shaky image he’s obviously on the move.
‘Is this a bad time?’ I ask. ‘I can call back later.’
I catch sight of myself in the thumbnail and lift my phone, instantly erasing the slight double chin. I’ve refreshed my makeup for this call, giving myself the dewy, natural look that actresses in romcoms ‘wake up’ with. I haven’t spent any time examining why I’ve ensured I look my best; I already know the answer and I’m not exactly comfortable with the reason.
‘This is fine,’ he replies. The motion of his camera starts making me queasy and I look away. ‘I’m just about to board the train. One moment while I find my seat.’
I should have messaged him instead. This is the same fluttery anxiousness I’d get when I called a boy I liked and his mum would shout for him to come to the phone.
‘ Hallo ,’ Willem says again and when I look at the screen, the image has stabilised. He’s smiling, making the tummy flutters intensify.
‘Hello,’ I reply, also with a smile. ‘Sorry to bother you – you’re obviously in transit – but I have some news.’
‘Is it about Lucia Rossi?’ he asks.
‘It is , and how do you already know that?’
‘Marie Maillot called an hour ago. She told me about your meeting.’
‘Wowser, she’s fast .’
‘And direct. It was a very short call,’ he says, clearly amused.
‘I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s not much of a conversationalist. Had you heard of her – before she called?’ I ask. ‘She mentioned she knew who you were.’
‘She did?’
I nod.
‘Well, that’s unexpected,’ he says, his brows lifted in surprise. ‘And I had heard of her, yes. Everyone in cyber security has.’
‘Really?’
‘Mm-hmm. In the early 2000s, she wrote a malware detection program that we still use today.’
‘Ahh, that explains a lot – her being techy. It barely took her two minutes to uncover Jon’s whereabouts later this week.’
‘I hear there’s a plan involving your matchmaker.’
‘Poppy’s not my matchmaker any more,’ I say, a terse edge to my voice. I don’t want Willem thinking I’ve re-engaged Poppy’s services.
Because you want to make it clear that you’re available , says the voice inside my head. It’s not wrong but it’s also not helpful.
‘Sorry,’ he says, his brows knitted.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ I say, making light of it. ‘Anyway, the agency’s managing that side of things – I’ve spent the last two hours with Poppy, filling her in on all things Jon – but I’ve raised my hand to go to Verona and inform Lucia.’
‘Really? Are you sure that’s best?’ he asks, which is a little irritating. ‘You could call her, send an email…’
‘Your own sister didn’t believe you until I fronted up at your house.’
‘True,’ he acknowledges with a slow nod.
‘And do you think I would have believed you if you hadn’t shown up in person with irrefutable proof? If you’d called me or emailed, I would have thought you were a scammer,’ I continue, driving home my point.
‘I understand.’
‘Even then I was dubious. I googled you, you know. Before I met you at the pub.’
‘I would expect nothing less,’ he retorts with a smirk, and I can’t tell if he’s teasing me. ‘Kate, I can come with you – to Verona,’ he adds, catching me by surprise.
I’d hoped he would offer, but I didn’t expect it, and I didn’t dare ask.
Especially not after I spent the entire Tube ride home from Ever After imagining being in Verona with Willem. Only we weren’t there for Lucia – we were together .
This fantasy climaxed in a rather steamy scene beneath Juliet’s balcony where, surrounded by a crowd of romantic pilgrims, Willem held me close to him, his fingers splayed against my stomach, while his other hand surreptitiously slipped beneath my skirt and worked its magic between my legs.
Highly unsuitable thoughts for the Tube. The woman across from me must have been a mind reader. When I snapped out of my steamy fugue, she was staring at me with a knowing smile. I got off at the next stop even though it meant I had to walk half a mile to get home.
‘You’re not saying anything,’ he says. ‘You don’t want me to come?’
Are we still talking about travel plans? As well as chiming in at inopportune moments, it seems my inner voice also has a dirty mind.
‘It’s not that,’ I reply.
‘So, you do want me to come with you?’
I do, but not for the reason he thinks, and I sigh. ‘Look, Lucia deserves the truth, and I think it should come from me – or Adriana, but it’s a lot to ask of her.’
‘It’s a lot to ask of you too.’
‘Well, yes, but she’s— Never mind.’
I was going to say that Adriana’s having a harder time with all this than she may be letting on – a girls’ night out only has so much healing power – but I’m not sure she’d want me say anything.
‘Kate, you might be right about Ady sitting this one out. Most of the time she seems okay, but last night she called me crying.’
Ah, so he does know about Adriana.
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
And I am sorry, especially as I haven’t cried over Jon since the night Willem showed up and Margot came over to console me. My pragmatic mind taking charge, I suppose. No sense in crying over someone who doesn’t exist.
‘Mmm,’ he murmurs, his expression pained. He sighs. ‘It’s a big mess,’ he concludes, and I chuckle wryly.
‘Astutely put. It is a big mess, but it’s not yours to clean up,’ I say, as much for myself as for Willem. I may want him to accompany me, but it’s for ulterior motives and that’s not fair on him.
‘Kate—’
‘You’ve already helped so much…’ And he has. He may have shown up unannounced and dropped a bomb, as he said the other night, but I would much rather know about Jon now than have married him and then discovered I was one of three.
‘Will you think about it – me coming to Italy with you? Marie Maillot and I have already agreed to share our findings, so I’ll have access to all the information you require.’
I snigger softly. ‘Trust you to be all logical ,’ I tease.
‘It is my specialty,’ he quips.
He smiles and even though there’s a body of water between us, that smile warms me from the inside out. It also ignites an inferno between my legs. It’s a good thing I’m no longer on the Tube and safely ensconced in my flat.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I say.
It does make sense, him coming with me, but it may be difficult to concentrate on the core purpose of the trip if I’m constantly fantasising about Willem slipping his hand inside my knickers – extremely difficult.
‘Ahem…’ I clear my throat, staving off the inappropriate thoughts. ‘So, um… I’ll let you know?’ I say, posing it as a question.
Ugh . I sound exactly like my fourteen-year-old self and not at all like a mature woman with oodles of life experience. If this weren’t a video call, I’d roll my eyes at myself and slap my forehead.
Instead, I plaster on a bright smile and ring off before Willem cottons on that I am, in fact, a blithering idiot.
* * *
‘How was Amsterdam?’ Mina asks, popping her head into my office.
‘Good, yes! Productive,’ I say without thinking.
‘Productive?’ She steps inside, folding her arms across her chest, a furrow appearing between her brows. ‘I thought you were going away to have some fun. Oh god, Kate, you weren’t working , were you?’ she asks with mock horror – at least I think she’s joking.
‘No, no, nothing like that,’ I say, forcing a laugh. ‘Sorry, I meant it did the trick – helped kickstart the healing process.’
‘Oh, good.’ She sits in the chair opposite me, a rare occurrence. Almost every time we meet, it’s in her office or a meeting room. She also has an odd expression on her face, which makes me uneasy. ‘And how’s your day going so far?’ she asks with a concerned head tilt.
‘Ah, good, yes. I got in early and put my head down, and I’m already caught up,’ I say brightly, hoping to reassure her that a day off hasn’t impacted my work.
‘I’d expect nothing less from you, Kate. As I told you last week, you at eighty per cent is far superior to most people at a hundred.’
It’s a nice compliment, but where is she going with this? ‘Thanks, Mina,’ I say with a smile. ‘Your confidence in me means a lot.’
‘Listen, I’ve been thinking…’ she starts, her expression hinting at something intriguing.
Ooh, maybe she’s broaching the possibility of me moving to Europe. We’ll be opening a satellite office later this year, and I’d definitely consider being part of the advance team.
‘Since you announced your engagement,’ she continues, instantly quashing my mounting enthusiasm, ‘I’ve had it in mind to gift you a fortnight’s leave for your honeymoon – so you didn’t have to use your holiday entitlement. As my wedding gift to you.’
‘Okay,’ I say. God, I’d rather be discussing pap smear results with Mina than my broken engagement.
‘And now that you’re no longer engaged …’
In a professional context, Mina Choi is confident and articulate, regularly conversing with some of the most influential people on the planet – billionaires, CEOs, magnates, and even heads of state. So why is she struggling to express herself with me ?
And then I get it.
‘Oh, no, that’s fine,’ I say. ‘A very generous gift – thank you – but I’m not expecting you to honour it. Not now, and until thirty seconds ago, I didn’t even know about it, so…’
‘But that’s the thing. I’d like to give you the time off regardless.’
‘Really? But why?’ It’s rude of me to speak to Mina so abruptly, but I can’t fathom why she would want to give me time off for something that’s no longer happening.
It also occurs to me how fortunate I am that Jon and I hadn’t set a date yet. This whole situation would be infinitely worse if I were having to cancel wedding plans and a honeymoon! But then again, that’s probably because Jon planned to string me along indefinitely while he collected fiancées like charms on a bracelet.
‘Because you’ve earned it, Kate,’ Mina says, and my focus returns to our conversation. ‘ And because…’ She looks over her shoulder, then gets up and closes the door. She returns to the chair and sits, her eyes boring into mine. ‘It happened to me.’
There’s a beat of silence as I unpack the meaning of her words – or attempt to.
‘Sorry, what happened to you?’
‘I had a broken engagement. About fifteen years ago. Actually, it wasn’t just a broken engagement. He left me at the altar.’
‘Oh my god. I’m so sorry.’
‘Yes, well, it was an awful time – a blessing in disguise in the end, of course. Because a year later, I met Jeff.’ She and Jeff recently celebrated their twelfth wedding anniversary.
She smiles and I return it, even though I’m finding this conversation extremely uncomfortable. Does Mina pity me? It’s a horrifying thought.
‘Still, it’s horrible that happened to you, Mina,’ I say evenly. ‘I can only imagine how difficult it must have been, but my situation with Jon… It’s nothing quite that, er… dramatic .’
Now that is an out-and-out lie. Multiple fiancées in different cities undoubtably trumps a runaway groom, but I’m not about to reveal the real reason I’m not with Jon. I’m not even planning on telling my parents.
‘Of course, I understand,’ she says, ‘but in case you find yourself out of sorts while you get over him – and it doesn’t matter if it’s a week from now or a month or even a year – please come to me. That time is yours, Kate, whenever you want to take it. You’ve been paramount to Elev8te’s success and whatever I can do to help… just say the word.’
Her timing is uncanny – perhaps I could use some of the gifted days to go to Verona – but when she punctuates her offer with an empathetic smile, tears prick my eyes. I’m instantly mortified – I have never cried at work and I am not going to start now.
But I can’t ignore the way Mina’s words have permeated the professional boundaries we’ve established. She’s seeing me as a woman, not an employee, and her empathy and kindness mean the world to me – despite the discomfort they bring.
‘Thank you, Mina. I really appreciate that and I promise I’ll come to you if and when the time comes.’
‘Brilliant,’ she says, beaming at me. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it.’
She departs and I’m still sifting through our conversation when Margot strides into my office. With the early start, an intensely busy morning, and Mina’s bizarre visit, I’d forgotten we arranged to have lunch together.
‘Hiya,’ she says, coming around to my side of the desk to hug me.
‘Hiya.’ I pat her on the back with one hand.
She straightens and looks down at me. ‘Well, come on, chop chop. I have to be back by one-thirty and I want to hear everything.’
I regard Margot with affection as I collect my handbag from my desk drawer and slip on my jacket. There are countless times when she drives me bonkers, but there are many more when her cheery presence is enough to clear my mind of troubled thoughts, like now.
And it doesn’t matter that I’ve already updated her on the latest by text message. I know exactly how lunch will go. Margot will ask countless questions – How was it when you found out about Lucia? Do you really think Poppy can snare Jon? How did Willem look when you called him? – and I will do my best to remember every nuance and detail and report it accurately. Anything less and she won’t be satisfied.
‘So, sushi, soup, or that new sandwich shop on the corner?’ I ask as we leave the office.
‘Not sushi. Remember last time?’ She grimaces.
‘Oh right,’ I say with a laugh. We’d stopped at services on one of our mini breaks and Margot thought it was a good idea to have discounted, nearly out-of-date sushi for lunch. The results were not pretty and it’s a minor miracle that the hire car came out of that trip unscathed.
She hooks her arm through mine as we head towards the lobby, then leans closer. ‘Now, you may not have shagged him in Amsterdam, but please tell me you’re going to shag him in Verona?’
‘Margot!’ I chide in a loud whisper.
‘Oh, come on,’ she says quietly as we wait for the lift. ‘He doesn’t need to go with you – and he knows that – yet he’s insisting.’
‘So?’
‘He fancies you, Kate. Frisson, remember?’
‘He doesn’t—’ I stop myself, because a small part of me thinks she’s right. ‘Anyway, it’s irrelevant,’ I continue, lowering my voice further. ‘Sleeping with someone new is the last thing on my mind.’
‘Hah!’ she barks, breaking into loud laughter. ‘Good one, Kate,’ she says, pretending to wipe tears from under her eyes.
The lift dings and the doors open, and I usher her inside, stabbing at the button for the ground floor. ‘You’re incorrigible,’ I tell her when the lift starts to descend.
‘Yep, and you’re deluding yourself.’
I blow out a sigh but I’m not sure who I’m more annoyed with – Margot for speaking the truth or me for denying it.