Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Beck
Most people hate going into the office on Sundays, but I wasn’t most people. I wandered through the empty desks of Wilde Developments and headed to my office at the back of the building.
I loved weekend working. The phones were quiet, and I didn’t have a constant stream of people trailing into my office asking for opinions or signatures.
I could get things done. And now that I was weeks away from getting Henry to sign over the Mayfair property, there was plenty to do.
I had to work on the tender document for the architects, go through the blueprints that Joshua had managed to get me of Henry’s building, which were much more comprehensive than the plans I’d had previously, and finally, I needed to figure out what I was going to do about the designer.
I’d said yes to Stella, given her the benefit of the doubt, but seeing her flat last night brought my concerns back.
Nothing about it had screamed luxury, high-end, or cutting-edge design.
I closed my office door as my mobile began to ring.
“Stella,” I said. “I was just thinking about you.”
Silence and then, “There’s no way I can go to that wedding with you. This was a ridiculous idea.”
Frustration twisted around my gut. There was no way I was going to let her change her mind. There was too much at stake. “What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I wanted to shout at her but knew it would be counterproductive.
“I just got off the phone with Florence. Karen called her, asked loads of questions about you and me, said something didn’t seem right between the two of us—”
This woman might be beautiful but she was totally paranoid. “I’m sure Karen will be focused on her wedding and not us when we’re up in Scotland.”
She sighed as if I just wasn’t getting it. “You don’t know Karen very well. She’s focused on trying to make me look bad.”
I thought these women were friends? I didn’t want to dive down that particular rabbit hole. All I cared about was that Stella was invited to Karen’s wedding. That was all that mattered. “You’re not going to look bad.”
“We were nearly caught out last night. I barely managed to carry off our charade for an evening. I can’t keep it up for a week.”
I threw my keys down on my desk and perched on the edge, facing the city. “Look, it was your idea to pretend that we were together.” It was a stupid idea. Why couldn’t we just go as friends?
“I know. And I totally accept that it was a terrible idea and that I’m an idiot. This isn’t your fault. I’m just saying I can’t do it again. There’s no way I’ll pull it off. Let’s just agree that it’s not going to work, and I’ll cancel—say that I have a hernia operation or something.”
I was going to have to talk her round. She wasn’t backing out on me.
“Why do you even care? Worst-case scenario, people figure out we’re not dating.
It’s not the end of the world.” I didn’t know Stella well enough to know how to change her mind, but I was going to have to try.
“You laughed in my face when I offered you work for the recruitment agency but when you stormed into my office demanding that I make you designer on the development, you were laser-focused and determined. It’s clearly something you want to do, otherwise you could have just asked me for a check.
Are you content to just walk away?” I tried to sound calm and logical, but the realization of a long-time dream hung in the balance.
I’d get over losing the money. Probably.
But not the opportunity of developing this block in Mayfair—I wasn’t going to let it go.
“Better to walk away than face complete humiliation in front of everyone I know. I refuse to stay at the center of this scandal. I don’t know your birthday or what side of the bed you sleep on. It was insane to think I could carry this off.”
So that was the problem. She felt unprepared and out of control. Well, I could fix that. I picked up my keys and stood. “Where are you?”
“In my sitting room, why?”
“I’m coming over and we’re going to prep,” I said as I pulled open my office door and headed out the way I’d just come a few minutes ago.
“Prep?” she asked.
“I bet you were one of those girls who did nothing but study at university. And you probably mocked up some kind of design for my Mayfair building before you came to see me to offer me the deal. Am I right?”
“Erm, that’s why you go to university. To study.”
“Wrong.” I bounded down the stairs two at a time. “Most people go to university to party. But okay, you’re a studier. A planner. I can work with that. We just need to study and plan for this wedding. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”
“No! You can’t just come over—I’m in my PJs.”
“That’s good. I need to learn how long it takes for you to have a shower and get ready. It will all help.”
“Help what?”
I pushed open the glass doors to the outside and pressed on my car fob.
“I told you that the key to telling lies was to stick as closely to the truth as possible. We’re going to get to know each other.
That way, when we get to Scotland, you won’t need to lie, and neither will I.
We’ll both have plenty to say that’s the truth.
” I slid into the driver’s seat of my sports car that I only used on weekends and started the engine.
I’d had it over a year and every time I got behind the wheel, the car still made me grin like a beautiful woman laid out on my bed in nothing but underwear.
“That’s a terrible idea. We have two weeks. We can’t pack a serious relationship into a day.”
“So it might take two,” I said, pulling out and heading in the direction of Stella’s flat. If I could keep her talking, I’d be there before she could make any rash decisions.
“You can’t just assume that I have two days to spend studying with you. I have things to do. Places to go. People to see.”
“Right. And we can study at the same time. It will be good for me to tag along with you. I can see what you get up to. Learn your quirks—”
“I don’t have quirks.”
I grinned and imagined her little frown and pursed lips. “We all have quirks. That’s what makes us interesting.”
I took her silence as a good sign. “We’ll spend some time together and before you know it, we’ll know each other well enough to breeze through the week in Scotland.”
“There’s no way—”
“Hey, I saw how much you wanted this design job. Has that just disappeared? Isn’t it worth a little effort? If you do a good job on a Wilde Developments project in Mayfair? Well, you won’t be a recruitment consultant anymore.”
I put my foot on the accelerator. I’d almost convinced her—I could tell from the way her arguments were waning. “I’m just a few minutes away and then we can start.”
“But what about you? I’ll need to know what you do at the weekend.”
“Well, I was in the office when you called, but let’s spend today and tomorrow—and the two weeks before the wedding—like a couple.
That way, it will be second nature to us when we get to Scotland.
We won’t need to pretend. You’ll get your career back on track and I’ll get Henry to sell me his building.
Everyone’s happy.” I didn’t tell her that I spent most weekends working, and that for me, dating didn’t involve much more than dinner and sex.
But whatever. It was three weeks out of my life in exchange for ten million pounds and victory over my demons.
“I guess we can see how today goes and then reassess,” she said.
I kept quiet to avoid inadvertently talking her out of giving this a shot. “You better get here quickly before I change my mind,” she said.
“I’m five minutes away.”