Chapter 6
Jude
Striding out of the restaurant with my blood boiling, I tell my driver I’ll see him at home, and set off to walk. I need the air. My head is all over the place. How did that go so wrong?
I plod down the streets, not sure what to do or how to put it right. I’ll just have to be patient.
Patient. Ha! Patient is not in my nature.
I’ll need my youngest brother for strategy on this.
But he’s just had his baby a few months ago, and is still living in Ireland.
I don’t want to bother him. Evie is nearly full term pregnant, and is visiting with Jackson in LA.
He is on another fucking planet with his new boyfriend. Jesus, what has happened to them all.
Needing to talk to someone, I dial my oldest brother, Jake.
“Little brother. Friday night and calling me, it must be bad. What did you do now?” I hear the laugh in his voice. He knows us all well.
I jump straight in. “You know that building I’ve been going on about.”
“Yep, choirs, knitters, kids, dogs, grannies. Yes, we all know it well. You haven’t bulldozed it by accident, have you?”
I huff out a laugh at that. He always takes the sting out of things. Calms me down.
“No, but I just bulldozed any chance of buying the damned thing. I insulted the woman who owns it. Brought up her ex-husband, who she plainly hates. Then told her I’d landscape her gardens with my distinctly superior Chelsea gold medallists.
And bugger her little community garden club.
More or less called her a failure, said her business is going down the tubes. ”
He splutters out a snort.
“Then, to top it off, I suggested she sell to me now. And not wait til she’s bankrupt and I can buy it cheap from her as she’ll be desperate.” I’m shaking my head at myself. What an amateur.
“Fuck, Jude. Properly gone for it, brother.” Jake can hardly speak for laughing.
“There’s more. I offered her money then went on to tell her how to spend it. On a beach with her three boys.” I pause and watch his laughing face, grinning along with him. I know I’m ridiculous. “Yeah, how not to negotiate. Maybe I need to do another podcast on that,” I snort out.
“Why, brother? You’re normally as cold as ice. The Ice God, they call you. What happened to him?” His eyes are wide now in amazement.
“She was pissing me off. Making loads of assumptions about me and going for every worst one. I knew she was not all about the money. No one rents out a London hall for buttons. But she fucking does.” I scrub my hand down my face in frustration at my juvenile behaviour.
The crappy London weather closes in as I’m trudging my way home.
The phone in front of my face. At least it’s dry, if not freezing.
“You’ve been insulted before. In fact, you’ve been punched for your efforts. Twice. So why lose it with her.”
I blow out a breath, rubbing my hair. “Fuck knows. She kept calling me Mr Greystone.”
He starts to say something, but pauses, and then starts to belly laugh. And I join in, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Fucking Mr Greystone. What a crime. How the fuck dare she!” He’s pissing himself.
“I offered her ten million.”
He stops dead, and then bursts out again. “For that tattered old building? You’re as bad as Evie. You’re both losing your minds. She has reasons. You don’t. Ten million. Fuck me.”
“It’s probably worth more. I could divide it up for apartments. Get Kitten involved. She’d love it. Right up her street. Twenty apartments, five million each easy. Lots of profit.” I’ve done the maths on all sorts of permutations.
“So why wouldn’t she sell? Other than your insults, of course.”
“I told her I was going to knock it down. She’d already heard the car park rumours.”
“And would you? Knock it down?”
“Probably. It’s a fucking eyesore. But I’m committed as I own most of the land surrounding it.
All the wharfside buildings. I bought all of them when I bought the site.
Just that bloody building and garden park wasn’t part of it.
” I huff out a breath. I’m annoyed. “I won’t have someone telling me what I can or cannot do with a building I pay ten million quid for.
She was out of order. She knows that’s unrealistic.
You can’t sell and still be in control. Not going to happen. No one would agree to that.”
“Maybe you could tell her you won’t knock it down. Once she’s moved on, got her cash and new life, she’d lose interest. I certainly would.” He’s a practical man. Usually on the money as well. But not this time.
“She’s not as shallow as you, brother.”
He groans like I’ve punched him. “Wounded. She must be one hell of a person to turn that down. If she’s in as much trouble as you’ve said, and is still clinging on.”
I think about her. How flushed she was. How her chest rose and fell.
How the fire suddenly seemed to wake up and shine out of her eyes.
Blue, like chips of sea glass. Vivid, almost turquoise in colour at times.
Whoever wrote blue eyes on that dossier sheet did not understand what I had been staring into.
Her dark hair only accentuates the colour. Her pale skin, strawberries and cream. It was like a summer buffet in January. Fuck, I wanted to take my fill.
The thought hits me like a wrecking ball. I was attracted to her. The woman who, from the outside, looked like the most boring person on this planet, was full of fire and ice. Riled me to the point of distraction.
“Fuck, what a mess.” And I’m talking about more than the disastrous conversation.
“Are you going to apologise?” He knows I hate leaving things hanging. I’d rather try and make it right than leave things unfinished—even if it makes it worse.
“Probably. I’ll think about it. I’m not sorry for what I said.
What did she expect? Me to lie to her? Tell her I won’t knock it down?
Let everyone who uses the building continue to take the piss?
Seems like a lot of people have already lied to her.
Probably her ex-husband and former business partner.
I shouldn’t have gotten so personal. But fuck me, she was digging at me.
I didn’t lie, but she went off on me anyway. ” I sound downbeat. I am.
“Well look, as far as I can see, regardless of how it went down, you told the truth. You told her the score. You’ve been upfront why you want the building.
You gave her a heads-up on what your intentions are.
No one likes to hear the harsh truth about their situation from someone else.
Especially if she actually is aware of it, but is hiding from it.
No one likes to look into the mirror or the abyss.
” He stops and gentles his voice. “But you didn’t lie.
You were straight up. You’re a good man, Jude.
You offered to help her situation. She just doesn’t like the fact that she’s in a situation that requires help.
So no solution is going to look good.” He is the best advisor. Calm and considered.
I stop on the pavement and look upwards. The sky is as black as my mood. Clouds darkening it even earlier than normal. Yeah—just like I did to Emma Lincoln.
“Yeah, I guess. It was just a bit harsh.” My voice is deadpan, but I shrug it off. It’s none of my business. Not really.
“Well it seems she gave as good as she got.” He sounds like that amuses him.
I brighten up at that, because that she did.
“Yep. Reminded me of Kitten. I thought she might wallop me with her spoon.” I laugh at the image in my head of my sister Evie, affectionately known as Kitten due to her cuddly nature—until she was tearing you to shreds with her claws when you pissed her off.
Any form of implement could be used to wallop me if I was out of line. And I was… a lot.
“Well Kitten certainly would have. Has Brandon cleared your diary? So we can go together when she has the twins?”
“Yes, all cleared and ready to go as soon as she calls. To be honest, I might go early anyway. I fucking hate January. I’ve got a conference at the back end of this next week. Other than that, I can skip town. The weather’s shite.” I’m back on my New Year’s winter downer.
“Yeah, well at least you’re not out in it every day. Battling the elements and frozen ground.”
Jake runs our farm in Devon with our dad. But farming is in our family. Always has been until our generation started to branch out into other areas.
“Boo hoo, brother. You chose it. I might come and help you. Not much doing here this weekend. Not with everyone away.”
I miss my family, now scattered around the globe. They are my beating heart. Christmas and New Year went way too fast for me, and I certainly have the January blues. But I’m beginning to realise, much to my horror, that this might be my everyday reality.
In just three years, I’ve gone from communal living, a house full of people—Evie, my nephews, my brothers—to no one. Not one of them still lives with me at Greystone House. It’s cold. Silent. And I hate it.
I’m a sociable guy, I love people, lots of people. I love entertaining, cooking for family and friends. I’ve had to build up my social circle, as my family deserted me, and now most of my time is spent outside of my home at work functions and dinners. I seem to work twenty-four seven.
Jake is silent for a moment, allowing me to be in my head, but then he says, “Come home, Jude. Back to Devon. For the weekend. Sofia’s here.
And you need more family time. Christmas wasn’t enough.
I could see it. You miss Evie and the kids, the hustle and bustle of them all.
Come here. We’ll go sheep shopping.” Jake knows how much everyone means to me. He would know I would be feeling it.
“Well, when you put it like that. Shopping for sheep with your daughter, or going for drinks with my friends? How can I say no.” Now I’m taking the piss.
But he repeats his words, his voice like home to me. “Come tonight. Have you had a drink?”