Chapter 30
I still feel jaded come Monday, but my head isn’t only foggy after I abused my liver on Saturday night. It’s also spinning because of Jude Harrison. I spent the rest of yesterday with him. We ate in the Piano Bar, where the dining is more casual, and then went back to Jude’s apartment and ate each other before I reluctantly told him I needed to get back to London, and he reluctantly brought me. In a lovely black Ferrari. And then I lay in bed all night wishing I’d let him win the argument and keep me at Arlington Hall, while coming to terms with the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him. It’s impossible not to love him. His quirks, his vulnerability, which I’m quite sure he hasn’t revealed to many. If anyone. I’m in love. Well, shit.
Every single one of the senior partners has stopped by my office at some point throughout the morning to say hello and tell me about their golf day. Sue thrashed them all. She was gracious in her victory, but I detected the smug smile she was hiding. I grab a coffee late morning and call the golf club where I booked lessons, asking to transfer it to my father’s name. That’s one thing taken care of. I send the email confirmation to Clark and then call the estate agents to see if anything has come up that fits my brief. Nothing.
And all the while, I miss him, constantly having to have a stern word with myself to keep my working day on track.
The ding of my computer has me looking up from the file I’m working on. And there it is, just his name. My smile is instant. My heart bursts.
I reach for my mouse and open his email.
From: [email protected]
Re: Business
Miss Lazenby, I need some advice.
Sincerely,
Jude Harrison
Arlington Hall Luxury Hotel I’ve come too far.
“Oh,” Jude grumbles. “Does that mean I’m not seeing you tonight?”
“It’s a lot, going back and forth to Oxfordshire during the week,” I say, getting up to stretch my legs.
“I’ll come to you then.”
I look at the stack of files I’ve yet to draft my recommendation letters for. If Jude comes to me, I still won’t get any work done. He’s a wonderful distraction from work, but I have to control it.
“Can we do tomorrow?” I ask, feeling the disappointment myself. I miss him. So, so much. “I have to catch up, and after Friday with the partners, it’s important I keep myself a step ahead.”
There’s a slight, uncomfortable pause before he sighs. “I get it,” he says, and I deflate, relieved he’s not going to give me a hard time about it. Jude can be quite convincing when he wants to be.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologise for having to work, okay? I’ll get over it. I know how important your job is to you.”
I lower to my chair slowly, my heart swelling. “You’re important to me too,” I reply quietly, almost unsure if I should voice it.
“And you are to me,” he says softly. “Hence, I want to hog all your time.”
I laugh, reaching for my pen and tapping it on the desk. Damn, I want to see him. “Can you do lunch?” I ask, checking the time. I could steal an hour.
“Wish I could. I’ve got a few meetings Anouska needs me to sit in on. Wait a minute.” He falls silent, and then a request comes through to FaceTime. I quickly jump up and close my office door, accepting. And the moment his face appears, I sigh. “There she is,” he muses, his phone at arm’s length as he walks. He’s suited and booted. His scruff is on the perfect side of not too neat. Delicious.
“Where are you?” I return to my desk and sit, propping my phone up against my computer screen.
“On my way to meet the sommelier in the wine cellar to review the wine list.”
“So you’ll be drinking on the job again?” I ask, making him smile and rake a hand through his hair. He’s so fucking handsome I could cry.
“I just wanted to see your face.” He slows to a stop and leans against a wall, staring at me. “To get me through the next twenty-four hours.”
“You’re cute when you’re romantic.” I bite at my lip, and Jude smirks.
“Have you heard from any of the partners today?”
“They’ve all stopped by to say hi.”
“You’ve obviously made an impact,” he says. “I can relate.”
I laugh. Oh, the scale of impact Jude Harrison has had on me has left me in pieces. But my heart is still intact.
He looks past the camera and nods, holding a hand up to someone. “Shit, I’ve got to dash.”
“Okay.”
“Amelia?”
“What?”
There’s a long, stretched silence. “I miss you.”
My nose scrunches, my lips pressed together to stop my beam from breaking. “I miss you too.”
Jude laughs under his breath, almost embarrassed. “I better go before you turn me into a full-on lump of cheddar.”
I let out a laugh, falling back in my chair. “I like cheesy Jude.”
He rolls his eyes. “Make sure you do your stretches.”
“What? Stretches? Why do I need to stretch?”
“So you don’t break when I bend you to my will tomorrow.”
“I really like dominant Jude.”
“And I love submissive Amelia.” He hangs up, and I sit at my desk, spinning my pen, falling into a daydream. My body’s still achy from yesterday, the skin on my thighs still sore. He loves submissive Amelia. I chomp down on my lip, reaching for my chest and rubbing.
I jump when my office door flies open. “Someone’s popular today,” Leighton muses, casually wandering over to one of my shelving units and perusing the spines of my files. I slowly look up through my lashes, my hand falling to my mouse and closing down various screens. So he’s noticed my flurry of visitors today, huh?
“Good day?” I ask, ignoring his observation. Not feeding it.
“Very.” He faces me and smiles. It’s as sincere as I know him to be.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“I’ve heard through the grapevine that you were out with some of the partners on Friday evening.”
I turn off my computer and grab my bag. “Oh, it’s lunchtime,” I say, passing him and leaving, scorning myself for my secret, smug smile.
He’s worried.
I call out my hello as I let myself into Mum and Dad’s, dropping my bags and files in the hallway before I poke my head around the lounge door. “Hey, you two.”
Grandma and Grandpa look up from their usual spots and beam at me. “Here she is,” Grandpa says, dropping his paper and beckoning me to him. Old, squishy lips press into my cheek.
“Where’s Mum and Dad?” I ask, going to Grandma.
“Your mother’s in the kitchen and your father’s at the office.”
“He’s supposed to be retired.”
“Hello!” Clark yells from the hallway, the door slamming soon after. He appears in his suit.
“Look how dapper he is,” Grandma sings as Grandpa pats the arm of his chair.
“Come, Clark, tell me about your day.”
I roll my eyes and leave Clark to talk business with Grandpa, passing him as I head to the kitchen. “Have you told my ex he can’t come to the wedding yet?” I hiss, scowling playfully.
“I’m working on it,” he grumbles.
“You’d better hurry up, it’s next week,” I remind him, entering the kitchen. “Whoa,” I say, coming face-to-face with a giant bouquet of peonies.
Mum turns from the stove, a wooden spoon in her hand. “They’re for you.”
I can’t hold back my exasperated sigh. Here’s me hoping Nick will give up, but instead he’s upped the ante. This bunch is double the size of all the other bunches.
Mum’s lips are a little pursed as she waves the spoon at the mass of blooms. “Maybe you should read the card.”
Guilt flares as I approach the bouquet, searching for the card amid the spray. “Mum, I take no pleasure from this.” I pluck the card out and open it. “I’ve tried to be considerate, but I think I’m just increasing his hopes.”
Mum turns and folds her arms over her chest, her body language saying everything I expect she wants me to hear. It’s not fair that they’re making me feel guilty too. I pull the card out.
Missing you.
“Shit,” I breathe, sighing and staring at the beautiful flowers. “Mum, I don’t love him.”
“They’re not from Nick.”
My head retracts on my neck.
“I helped at the shop again today.” She comes to the table, looking past me, checking for listening ears. “A man came in. Tall, extremely handsome, dark-blond hair to here.” She indicates her nape as dread finds me. “Fine suit, fancy black sports car parked outside. Imagine my surprise when he ordered the most expensive bouquet”—she points at the spray in the middle of the kitchen table—“and writes down your name and Abbie’s address for the delivery.”
Oh fuck. “Imagine that,” I whisper. “So instead of having them delivered, you brought them home?”
“Amelia,” she hisses quietly. “You’ve just dumped Nick to concentrate on your career!”
“What’s going on?” Clark asks.
“A man bought Amelia these. A man called Jude Harrison.”
“Oh,” Clark says, casual.
“You know his name too?” I blurt.
“Of course! I needed it for the order form.”
My arse hits the chair, my head going into my hands. “I’m a grown woman, Mum.”
“Is he why you finished things with Nick? Were you two-timing?”
“What?” I look at her, outraged. “No!”
Clark moves in and gives my back a supportive rub. “Leave her alone, Mum,” he warns gently. “There was no crossover.”
She gasps. “You knew about this?”
“Why are you talking like I’ve committed a mass crime?” I snap. “A man bought me flowers. That’s it.”
“That’s where you were, wasn’t it? When you didn’t come yesterday. And when you were in a Rolls-Royce, that’s his car.” She comes closer, her intrigue overflowing. “Or one of his cars. Who is he, Amelia?” she whispers.
“Mum, please,” I beg, looking at my brother for help.
His lips press into a straight line. “I’d get rid of these before Dad gets home,” he says, trying to exercise damage control.
“Yes, oh God.” Mum’s quickly in a dither. “He’ll know these aren’t from Nick. They’re too ...” She looks at the huge bouquet, overcome. “Expensive.”
Clark snorts, and I slap his arm. “Shut up and help Mum hide the flowers.” I haven’t the energy to face my father’s interrogation.
“Yes, I don’t want to listen to your father’s grievances.” Mum starts flapping around the kitchen.
“Wish you’d say that to him,” I grumble.
“Oh, Amelia, you know what he’s like. Do you think I can change him now, after nearly forty years? He just wants what’s best for you.” She pushes out her bottom lip. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m your mother.”
Best for me? I’m so tired of listening to it. “Because then I’m making you keep secrets from Dad, and I know you don’t like keeping secrets from Dad.”
Her shoulders drop. “Well, it’s not ideal, is it? Right off the back of your breakup with Nick. How did you meet him?” she asks, and I inwardly snort. “What does he do for a living? I mean, a Rolls-Royce, a fancy sports car!”
“Mum,” I breathe.
“Oh God, I don’t know what your father will say.”
“We’re not telling him,” I retort, sure. Not that I’m ashamed, I just can’t be bothered with a lecture and guilt trip right now. And besides, I don’t even know what there is to tell. You’re in love with him, idiot!
“I don’t know what the issue is.” Clark sounds as exasperated as I feel. “You both want her to settle down, get married, make babies and stews and soups. Maybe this is the guy she’ll do that with.”
I look up at my brother in surprise. “I’m sleeping with him, not marrying him.”
“Amelia!” Mum snaps.
“Well, I am.” I laugh, flinching at my own words, quite sure Jude would have something to say about my claim. But I must play this down for a while. Give them time to get over Nick, and for Nick to get over me. And who knows where this is going with Jude?
Am I being delusional?
“I’m sleeping with him,” I repeat, stronger. “And I—”
The front door opens, and I still, hearing Dad coming in. “Shit,” Clark mutters, grabbing the flowers.
“Oh dear,” Mum whispers.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“Amelia!” Mum scolds me as I get up, ready to assist Clark hiding the flowers, taking them from his arms, just as Dad wanders in. We both freeze.
“Nice flowers,” Dad says.
“I got them for Rachel,” Clark blurts, grabbing them back and grinning. I sigh, rubbing my forehead. This is ridiculous.
“They’re mine.” I claim them back off Clark, smiling my appreciation for him trying to cover for me. But I’m thirty years old and single. I do not need to sneak around.
“Yours?” Dad asks.
“I’m seeing someone.”
Dad recoils, just as somebody appears behind him.
My mouth turns lax. “Nick,” I breathe.
“Oh shit,” Clark curses.
“Oh,” Mum whispers. “Oh, this is unfortunate.”
I stare at Nick, as he stares at the over-the-top flowers in my arms. “I invited Nick for dinner,” Dad declares, unashamed, as I glare at him, so fucking angry.
“What’s going on?” Grandpa hobbles into the kitchen on his stick. “Oh, Nick, how lovely to see you.”
“You’re seeing someone?” Nick’s voice is so quiet, hurt splashed all over his face.
“It’s nothing serious.” Mum starts flapping around the kitchen again. “She’s just sleeping with him.”
“Mum!” Clark and I yell in unison.
“Who?” Nick asks as Dad places a hand on his shoulder and rubs, his unimpressed eyes nailed to me. The villain.
“Nick, it’s—”
“Who?” he repeats, his eyes definitely clouding. Oh God.
“It’s no one you’d know.”
“Who?” he snaps, getting himself worked up. “Who is it?” He gasps. “Were you having an affair? Is that why you left me?”
“No, Nick, of course I wasn’t.”
“Well, you met someone pretty damn quickly, didn’t you? I thought you didn’t want a relationship? I thought your precious career was more important than me and our future.”
“Okay, I think everyone needs to calm down,” Clark says, taking my elbow. “They’re just flowers.”
Just flowers.
I feel my throat closing as I look at Dad, feeling the disapproval and disappointment. “I wasn’t having an affair.” I need to make that clear. “I met someone unexpectedly and he’s sent me flowers.”
“And you’re sleeping with him,” Nick adds. “Is it serious?”
I can’t answer that, and not because I don’t know how serious it is. I’m honestly so uncertain about everything. I know how I feel about Jude, but I’m terrified about admitting it out loud, to Jude especially. And besides, it’s early, it’s intense, and it’s really fucking fiery.
“I have to go.” I walk out with my flowers and snatch up my bag and files.
“Amelia,” Nick calls as I pull the door open. “Wait.”
I march on, being sure to hold back my tears of frustration. Nick grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop when I reach the road. “No, Nick.”
“I love you, Amelia,” he says, pleading. “Please, let’s try again. I’ll forget the kids, no marriage, whatever you want.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late.”
“But I love you,” he croaks. “And I know you love me too.”
I don’t think I ever loved Nick. I admired him, respected him, but I don’t think I truly loved him, or even saw a future with him, and I don’t feel good admitting that. But feeling what I’ve been feeling since I met Jude? It’s made me realise what love feels like. And the fact there’s so many question marks over what’s happening with me and Jude, and yet I still feel like this? It’s unstoppable, untameable love. Being vulnerable. Putting your heart at risk and hoping the person you’re handing it to will be careful with it.
“I don’t love you.” My reluctance to say the words is clear. I don’t want to hurt him. “Please, Nick, you’ve got to let go.” I turn and walk away.
“Never,” he yells. “I’ll never stop trying! I’ll make you realise!”
All he’s made me realise is how deep I’m in with Jude, because my feelings toward him feel like they’re on a whole different level.
Love.
I stop when I hear Nick get in his car, and he drives off fast, taking the corner out of the close practically on two wheels. He’s angry.
“Fuck,” I hiss to myself. That was not how I wanted him to find out about Jude.
“Amelia, darling!”
Grandma hobbles down the driveway. “Grandma, what are you doing?” I hurry back, taking her arm to help her.
She swats me away. “I knew I smelt a man on you,” she whispers, pulling her knitted cardigan in before reaching for my cheeks, cupping them with both hands. “Does he make your tummy flutter?” she asks, surprising me. I take a breath and nod, and Grandma smiles mildly. Knowingly. “Does your heart beat harder?”
“Yes.” So bloody hard. Always.
“Do your insides tingle when you think about him?” She smiles, impish. “Fanny flutters?”
“Grandma!”
She rolls her old eyes. “Well?”
“Yes,” I whisper, mortified.
“Then you have him, Grand Girl. And don’t let anyone try to tell you that you can’t.” She squishes my face and kisses me, before turning on her slippers and going back to the house.
I could cry.
Looking to the sky, I wish with everything I have that I’d just let Jude pick me up from work. Followed his lead.
“Shit,” I breathe, picking up my feet and heading for the Tube. A bombardment of messages from Nick keep me company on the way.
Who is it?
I at least deserve to know who he is.
How could you do this? You’ve made a fool of me.
I hope you’re happy.
I ignore them all on constant winces, my heart feeling heavy. I don’t want to hurt Nick any more than I already have.