Chapter 38
JAX
There’s a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I say.
Caleb pops his head around with a grin.
“Morning. It’s good to have you back.” He drops into the chair opposite me. “You were up and out early this morning.”
My flight got in from the US late last night, long after Caleb and April had gone to bed.
I motion to the pile of work on my desk. “I wanted to get a head start.”
I sit back and rest my elbows on the chair arms.
“And how are you doing? Have you recovered from your week away with my sister?”
I force my shoulders to relax as I motion to the final report on my desk.
“Absolutely. We covered a lot.”
Caleb smiles, and some of the tension ebbs.
“It looks like you’re prepared for tomorrow,” he says.
Am I?
It’s been almost two and a half weeks since we returned from the Maldives. Since I held her in my arms, the memory alone has my stomach jumping and my breath quickening. Facing her over a boardroom table, surrounded by other people…
I shake myself mentally.
“Did you get a chance to look over the electronic copy I sent you?” I ask, wanting to distract my thoughts.
“I did. I think the board will be impressed. You’ve really come through. I hope Kat appreciates it.”
I inhale and smile. Even hearing her name makes my breath catch. I need to get a grip.
I stretch, wishing I hadn’t forgone this morning’s swim, but I didn’t want to face Caleb over breakfast. The downside of staying with one of my best friends.
If I’m spending more time here, I’m going to need to find a place to stay long-term.
Caleb and April have been very generous, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.
My grandma always said, “Visitors and fish stink after three days.”
Caleb heads to the door, turning as he reaches it.
“I’ll leave you alone to catch up, but I wondered what you’re doing for Christmas?”
“Mum and Peter have invited Dad and me to spend Christmas with them.”
Caleb’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline, and he chokes on the air he’s just inhaled.
“That’s a bit of a change from when they split.”
No one was more surprised than me.
“And your dad has agreed?”
“According to him, it’s about time they buried the hatchet.”
Caleb chuckles. “As long as it’s not in each other.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. All I can say is it’s going to be an interesting Christmas.”
Although both my parents have mellowed over the past eighteen years, I’m still on tenterhooks. This will be the first time they’ve been in the same space for an extended period. The fact that Mum and Peter invited us gives me some hope. The fact that my father didn’t turn them down, even more so.
“I wish you luck. You know there’s always a spare bed at Mum’s if you need to make your escape. She’d love to see you. Especially as Pen and Eli are going to be staying in his cottage this year with Lottie.”
I nod, although being that close to Kat, and not being able to touch her, I’d be playing with fire. Kat made it very clear where I stand. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
“How is Simon doing on the latest development plans?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
Caleb smiles. “Really well. He’s fitted in with the rest of the team. He was a good choice. He’s not you, but he’s learning and adaptive… a close second, I’d say.”
“I’m pleased. I was going to pop down and see him later. I’ve tried to step back and not crowd him.”
“I imagine it’s hard when you’ve always held a tight rein.”
“You have no idea, but it’s what needs to happen. It’s either that, or Lockwood Architects stops expanding, and that’s not the aim.”
“Keep that in mind when temptation hits,” he says, with another grin. “Catch you later.”
Caleb leaves, and I sink back into my chair.
Spinning to face the window, I rest my arms on the armrests, steepling my hands in front of my face, my forefingers touching my lips.
I need to get myself under control before I see Kat tomorrow.
The latest report was sent across this morning. Although the ideas in the proposal are as much hers as they are mine, so I’m not sure what I’m hoping for.
She hasn’t replied.
I’m not sure what to expect or what rules we’re playing by, but I promised her I’d be professional, and I will.
Kathryn Frazer has taken up too much of my emotional headspace for far too long. It’s now time to shut it down and get on with living my life.
I pull up my phone directory and scroll through. Most of my exes are either married or in steady relationships.
I smile when I reach one name.
“Michelle,” I say, when the phone connects.
“Hey, stranger. It’s been a while.”
“I’m in town. Do you want to meet for dinner?”
We exchange pleasantries for a while, and I agree to pick her up at eight.
ME:
Heading out tonight for dinner with an old friend.
CAL:
Friend or flame?
ME:
Michelle
CAL:
Both then. Have fun. We won’t wait up.
I sink back into my chair. What would Caleb think if he knew what had gone on with his sister? My stomach churns at the thought of what I’m doing.
I’m playing with fire.
Michelle is as beautiful as ever. She’s a lawyer and someone Caleb and I worked with on one of our initial projects. That was before she moved across into criminal law. She’s work-driven but also up for fun.
“I was surprised when you called,” she says, waiting while our waiter shakes out her napkin and drapes it over her lap. She looks up and smiles. “Thank you.”
He comes around the table and does the same for me.
“Wine?” I ask.
Michelle smiles. “Lovely. You choose.”
I scan the menu and order us a bottle of Chablis Cru.
“Good choice,” she says. “How have you been?”
“Shouldn’t that be my line?”
She grins. “Maybe, but I’m all about equality, you know that. So, how are you?”
“I’m about to start work on a new project. Just got back from the US, having been in the Maldives before that.”
“Jet setting. You always did lead a busy life. The Maldives sounds romantic.”
It was. I’m beginning to regret bringing it up. Tonight was about forgetting, resetting.
I smile. “Work. How about you?”
Michelle stares at me for a moment but lets it slide. I forgot how good she is at reading people.
She rests her forearms on the arms of the chair, just as our waiter returns with our wine.
We pause while I taste the wine. It’s zesty and rich flavour resting perfectly on my tongue. I nod, and we wait while our waiter fills our glasses, placing it in the cooler next to the table.
Michelle lifts hers and holds it forward.
“To old friends.”
Our glasses sing as they chink together, and we both take a sip.
“You were going to say?” I say, placing my glass on the table.
Michelle smiles, but it is followed by a scowl.
“My firm is tied up in the Simone Asher case. It seems her murder was the tip of a very large iceberg.”
I nod. Sir Leonard Crawley may be dead, but he was not working alone in his sick and twisted world. The files uncovered implicated many unsavoury people involved in numerous nefarious crimes.
“Do you think you can win?”
“You know I can’t talk about it.”
I shrug.
“I hope you nail the bastards,” I say, earning myself a smile.
“Me too.”
“So why are we really here?”
I drop back and steeple my fingers.
Michelle grins. “There’s only one woman I know of who can send Jaxson Lockwood into a tailspin.”
“Am I that obvious?” I say, grimacing. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Michelle reaches over and pats my arm. “We’re friends first and foremost. Although I never complained about the benefits.”
Michelle is one of the few women who know about Kat.
I’m beginning to wonder if that’s why we’re here.
When we worked together, Cal left to go home.
We carried on drinking, and during that evening shared our pasts, among other things.
She doesn’t know who, but knows there was a woman.
The same way, I know she lost the love of her life.
“Is she back?”
“It’s complicated,” I mumble.
Michelle laughs, the sound warm and gentle. “When isn’t life? It doesn’t mean you should give up.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Ah, but my situation is different,” she says, with a weary smile.
Michelle fell in love with her ex-fiancé’s father. Messy doesn’t come close.
“Don’t try to distract me. I’m a lawyer, it won’t work. What happened?”
I fill her in on some of the details. Michelle’s hand comes across the table and pats mine.
“It sounds to me like there’s hope, and remember where there’s hope—”
I groan. “Don’t say it.”
“It’s true. Don’t give up. It sounds like your story is far from over.”
A flutter starts low in my stomach, and my breath bottles up in my chest.
Our waiter appears to take our order, offering me a reprieve.