The Payback Plan

Chapter 9

9

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Paige’s internal condemnation prattled along in time to the erratic thump of her pulse and the vicious swipe of the toothbrush as she re-brushed her teeth. She was no doubt taking off years of enamel right now but all she could taste was cognac and runaway groom and she couldn’t go to bed with the taste of Oliver bloody Prendergast taunting her all night long.

God… What had she done? Why had she let him kiss her?

She knew why Oliver had done it – he’d been several cognacs the worse for wear. But what in hell was her excuse? Because she’d known he was going to kiss her in those weird, still moments just prior. Hell, her breath had evaporated as she’d waited for his move, her lips had tingled in anticipation.

Which was ridiculous. She should have been screaming at him to back off. She should have kneed him in the testicles. She should have turned her ass around and walked away. But it’d been the strangest thing – she hadn’t been able to move. No, worse than that, she hadn’t wanted to.

Oh, God…

Spitting and rinsing, she eyed herself in the mirror as she wiped her mouth. Her face was paler than usual, her freckles standing out like the Hobnob crumbs she took great delight in leaving everywhere in the house.

‘Paige Barker, how could you?’ she hiss-whispered. ‘You are a… traitor to your sex. To the sisterhood.’

Her gaze zeroed in on her mouth. The mouth which Oliver had kissed so damn perfectly – soft, gentle, coaxing – her entire insides had dissolved. The mouth that had betrayed her newest friend, who thought she was in Oliver’s house getting payback, not kissing up to the guy who’d left her standing in her twenty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang dress on their wedding day.

She was a horrible, horrible person.

Unable to look at herself, Paige curled her hands into fists and spread them wide on top of the vanity, dropping her head, until it was hanging between her shoulder blades. Staring at, but not seeing the dark marble grain, she scrambled for what to do next. She should leave. Go home. Get out now.

And not just because of how badly she’d betrayed Bella but because, how could she even face Oliver again?

It was tempting to hope that Oliver’s alcohol consumption might result in a case of amnesia. But, there was a big difference in imbibing enough to loosen inhibitions and imbibing enough to be black-hole hungover the next day and he’d definitely not been that drunk. He’d certainly seemed very sober at the end.

So she was going to have to face him tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. The memory of the kiss making things awkward AF between them.

Ugh. Pass.

But… up and leaving with another month of her payback plan left unfulfilled would lead to a lot of questions from her Just Desserts gang. A lot. And there was no way she could tell any of them what had just happened. Bella would be furious – rightly so. Sienna and Astrid wouldn’t be far behind.

They’d probably cut her from the group and never talk to her again and Paige couldn’t bear the thought of these women she’d formed such a fast friendship with, spurning her – cutting her off. She hadn’t really realised how lonely the past four years had been isolating herself from any kind of close relationship, until she’d sat down at that table in O’Hare and magically found herself three kindred spirits.

She didn’t want to lose their friendship.

Not to mention how worried her parents would be if she upped and left early. She’d brought enough angst into their lives, thanks to Harvey and the last thing she wanted to do was exacerbate her father’s chronic health issues. She’d worked hard to get her life back on track so they didn’t have to worry about her, she wouldn’t ruin that now.

Which meant, she was going to have to stay and suck it up. Redouble her commitment to the payback plan. What Oliver had done was worth more than one lousy month of irritating inconveniences. She needed to stick to the plan, see it through. Then she could walk away.

You’ve been a godsend. That’s what he’d said. Well… she’d see about that.

Lifting her head, Paige stared at herself in the mirror again, her curls rustling as they settled around her face. ‘You can do this,’ she told her reflection. ‘It was just a kiss.’

An alcohol induced one at that and tomorrow morning she’d shrug it off like it was nothing and they could put it behind them like two mature adults.

But first, she needed to brush her teeth one more time.

* * *

After a night of half-formed dreams involving Oliver kissing her in just about every nook and cranny in the house and every nook and cranny on her person, Paige woke not only feeling guilty but also horny. The taste she’d sampled last night had morphed into something far more erotic in her dreams, making her excruciatingly aware of her body.

Even the damn sheets tangled around her bare legs were weirdly stimulating.

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her phone and navigated to the WhatsApp group as she did every morning. There was the usual overnight chatter full of plans and logistics. Bella was in the process of setting up a king blow to Chase that she was excited about and Astrid seemed to have the Aiden situation under control. Paige wanted to join in the conversation but guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Bella was getting on with her part of the deal – getting even with Chase for Astrid. The other two were also making inroads, even if just in the planning stages. And what was she doing? Kissing Oliver bloody Prendergast. She was not only failing to uphold her end of the bargain, she was consorting with the freaking enemy.

Paige shut the app down and groaned into the pillow. She couldn’t bring herself to join in, not when she’d done something so egregious. She felt like the worst kind of friend. But, even more than that, she felt like all three of them would be able to read between the lines and know something was up.

For now, avoidance seemed the best strategy. At least until she could get some distance and perspective from the kiss. Although God alone knew how she was going to do that when her body tingled at the very thought of it and she was living in close proximity to the guy who’d dished it out.

A guy who’d, yes, jilted her friend at the aisle but who’d also, without hesitation, opened his door to her. And a hamster. And a dog. And been very sweet with a bunch of old ladies. A guy who was still struggling with the loss of his father and unpacking a lifetime of baggage in what had been a complicated relationship.

A guy who, had she met independently, she probably would have liked – a lot. Hell, even Bella had said he wasn’t a bad guy.

But he had done a bad thing and that should be her only focus.

* * *

Oliver finally appeared at ten in the morning. Paige knew he was on the approach before she heard him because Pavarotti stopped running on his wheel and rushed to the side of his cage like a groupie. Then, as if to confirm it, the fine hairs on her nape prickled the way her skin had been prickling all morning at the thought of him.

‘Morning,’ he said from behind her somewhere, the click of Casper’s toenails audible as he got closer.

His greeting sounded pained, his voice a little husky and Paige smiled at the distinct lack of good in front of his rather stilted greeting. Excellent, he had a hangover. She hoped it was a doozy.

Sure, she may have kissed him back but he’d started it and she was pissed .

Closing down her browser window, she took a steadying breath and pushed the chair back hoping for a horrendous scaping noise but it glided with effortless Scandi efficiency and quiet – of course.

‘Coffee?’ she asked, sparing him a quick glance only as she entered the kitchen where he’d leaned his ass against the edge of a counter top. Casper wagged his tail at her.

‘God, yes please,’ he muttered, shoving a hand through his sexily dishevelled bed hair.

Of course. When she was hungover she woke up looking like a scarecrow.

Turning her back on the way his Calvin Klein boxers rode high on thighs that would have been perfectly at home in an anatomy textbook, Paige clunked her mug on the counter as loudly as she could without breaking it. Pulling one off the nearby mug tree, she slapped it down too.

‘Must you make so much noise?’ he grouched.

Turning, she shot him a sweet smile. ‘Hungover?’

He eyed her Sorry for having great tits and correct opinions T-shirt warily, choosing to grunt in response to her question and not comment on the slogan.

Grimacing, he said, ‘Who knew vintage cognac had a kick like a mule?’ Closing his eyes for a beat or two, he opened them again. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything for a headache, do you? I could have sworn there was a packet of pills in the main bathroom.’

There had been. She’d tossed them out this morning praying like hell they’d be needed. Ask and you shall receive . Clearly, she was doing God’s work.

‘Sorry, no,’ she said chirpily before turning back to the coffee mugs and hitting the button on the grinder. The beans didn’t need any more grinding but he didn’t know that.

Fixing them both a coffee, she left his on the counter and took hers back to the table and her work which she’d been trying to concentrate on for hours now. It had been impossible of course, her mind completely preoccupied with how this morning-after moment would play out.

Maybe he would pretend last night hadn’t happened. She would be perfectly fine with that. Some things were better left unsaid. Right? Or maybe, given his hangover, he wouldn’t even remember that he’d kissed her. The end result would be the same for both – the incident wouldn’t be mentioned.

But the second option squeezed like a hand around her throat.

‘You want to talk about last night?’

His quiet question put an end to her speculation and took her straight back to those moments. The beginning where his move had startled her and the split second it had taken for a tsunami of lust to rise and drown any iota of common sense as she’d leaned into the kiss.

Even now, the echo of that flood shot a frisson of awareness across her nape, down her décolletage and straight to her nipples, tightening them shamelessly.

With a shuddery breath, Paige blew on her coffee. ‘Nope.’

‘We probably should.’

She shut her eyes. He was right, of course. It was the mature, responsible thing to do. But she was sick of doing the mature, responsible thing. For once she wanted to stick her fingers in her ears and chant la la la not listening.

When she opened them again, he was pulling a chair out at the end of the table, Casper settling at his feet. Pavarotti preened at the bars of the cage, nose twitching, hoping for some attention but unfortunately for him and for Paige, he was staring right at her.

‘We kissed.’

Like she needed reminding. ‘ You kissed me.’

Cocking an eyebrow, he stared her down with those blue Prendergast eyes. ‘And you kissed me back.’

The rebuff was gentle but Paige could hardly dispute it. ‘Look,’ she huffed, ‘it happened, okay? It had been a big day and there was the cognac and… I get it. It was a moment, a strange moment that shouldn’t have happened.’

‘It shouldn’t have?’

‘Bella is my friend, Oliver.’ Her rebuke was almost as sharp as her glare. ‘Friends don’t… fool around with their friends’ exes. It’s not just bros that have codes, you know?’

He nodded. ‘Right, of course.’ He was obviously chastened by her instant rebuttal but he didn’t look so sure and that was confusing.

Surely, he knew that rule, too?

‘So, I say, let’s just put it down to the cognac and move on. Or… I could move out.’

Paige brightened at the thought. Her leaving would be too suspicious but if he indicated that might be the correct course of action, then she could hardly stay in those circumstances, right? Sure, she’d have left before her mission was complete but it would be a lot easier to face the others in that scenario.

‘It might take me a couple of days to find a temporary living situation but?—’

‘No.’

His vigorous head shake cut her off and the hope that he would hand her an easy out evaporated. It seemed she was destined to stay and do her worst.

‘You don’t have to go. I’m sure, as you say, we can move on from this.’

‘Absolutely,’ she murmured.

Staying meant she wouldn’t have to arrange some bridging accommodation which was a bonus. And also, she’d get to keep working on his book which she’d been enjoying immensely.

‘Look…’ He placed his mug on the table and sought her gaze. ‘I’m sorry. About the kiss. I… don’t know what came over me but I should have resisted. The last thing I want is to put you in a compromising position with Bella. I’ve hurt her enough already.’

Paige felt the sincerity of his guilt deep in her bones. Clearly Oliver was still feeling bad about his disappearing act which begged the question, what the hell had he been thinking? Because being in such close confines with him, seeing him through her eyes, not Bella’s, he seemed like a good guy.

Grappling with some serious demons.

Bloody hell. Like that was an excuse . God, was she in full Stockholm syndrome? What the hell would her co-conspirators think of her going soft on Oliver Prendergast?

On the flip side, maybe hearing some half-ass justification was just what she needed to keep the fiery rage burning? And maybe getting to the bottom of it all would help Bella.

Maybe it would help her .

Holding his gaze she asked the question she’d been grappling with since meeting Oliver a month ago. ‘Why? Why did you run out on her like that? All dressed up on the most important day of her life? That’s pretty damn unforgiveable.’

If he’d been acting like a total horndog since the jilting, freed from an obligation he no longer wanted, she might understand why he ran – well, she wouldn’t but she could draw a line from one to the other – but the man was a damn recluse!

He sighed heavily as he stared into the depths of his coffee and, for a moment, Paige thought he might decline to answer but then those blue Prendergast eyes found her again.

‘Because I didn’t love her enough. And that just wasn’t fair to her.’

Okay, well… there was nothing half-ass about that. But still, not forgivable. ‘And you decide this on the morning of your wedding ?’

‘I’d been feeling… uneasy about it for a while but we spent so much time apart, her living on the East Coast, me on the West and I just put it down to that, kept telling myself once it was all official, I’d feel differently. But…’

He didn’t say anything for long, long moments and Paige grew impatient, her eyebrow kicking up. ‘But?’ she demanded.

‘It was D Day and I was there in my monkey suit getting ready and I realised I couldn’t keep kicking this uneasy feeling down the road. The wedding was only a few hours away and I had to face it – I didn’t love her enough.’

A bubble of rage rose in Paige’s chest on Bella’s behalf. ‘Why in the hell did you propose to her if that was the case?’

He shrugged. ‘My father had just died. It put me in a spin and she was there as always to steady the ship. And I was… grateful for that. For her. It felt like exactly the right thing to do at the time but…’

‘You didn’t love her enough,’ Paige mimicked, her lip curling distastefully. What was he? Five years old? Love was serious business, not something from fairy tales.

‘I realised I couldn’t use her as some kind of emotional crutch. That wasn’t fair to her. My father never loved my mother enough and it damaged her deep down for a very long time. Sure, she has a flashy life with a lot of friends and things to do to feel good about herself but I think she’s still damaged by his inability to love her the way she craved.’

Paige remembered the things he’d written about his mother in the pages she’d already read. About her feeling passed over and too afraid to become emotionally dependent on a husband who only really loved himself. Especially at the expense of her own self-worth.

‘My mother deserved better than that,’ Oliver continued. ‘So does Bella. She’s amazing and she should be with someone who loves her with every fibre of his being. Whose entire existence is predicated on her happiness. Who wakes up every morning just to see her face. She should be loved to distraction.’

Paige cut off the sigh that rose in her throat. Bella did deserve that. So did every woman. So did she .

‘And there is that person out there for her,’ he continued, ‘it’s just not me. I loved Bella but not in the way she should be loved. Which is what I finally faced on the morning of our wedding and I’m sorrier than she will ever know that I didn’t have the guts to face it earlier but standing there in my suit, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Stand at that altar and lie to her like my father had lied to my mother.’

Jesus…

Paige shook her head. Parents could really screw a kid up.

The bubble of rage slowly deflated but Paige clung to it anyway. She didn’t want to be affected by the admission. Didn’t want to see that while his timing had been terrible, his reasons had been sensible. Noble even. Didn’t want to have this heavy ache for him in her heart right now.

But, more than that , she hated that he was comparing himself to his dad. ‘You’re not your father, Oliver.’

She said it gently and meant it and then felt guilty about meaning it but it was the truth. She might never have met the famous actor but she’d glimpsed enough in Oliver’s writing to know that Roger Prendergast was a narcissist. A benign one, sure, but his singular love for himself still had consequences for others.

In opening his place to her and a hamster and a stray dog, Oliver had shown a selflessness his father had never possessed.

‘No.’ He nodded. ‘I’m not. And had the wedding gone ahead I would have been a very good husband and I’m sure we’d have had a very nice life. But Bella’s bloody smart and at some point, she’d have worked it out and I would never want to hurt her like that.’

‘Why didn’t you tell her any of this instead of running?’

‘On the day, I was in a panic. I knew I had to get away or I’d chicken out and end up doing the’ – his lips twisted as he performed air quotes – ‘ right thing . Going through with it so we could all save face. So I texted her, switched off my phone and got the hell out of Dodge. It was not my finest moment.’

Paige blinked. ‘Ya think?’ She may be able to empathise with the quandary Oliver found himself in but text dumping her really was unforgiveable.

‘When I switched my phone on later that day there were a dozen missed calls from her so I called her back but she didn’t answer and she dodged my calls for two weeks and eventually texted to tell me to stop trying to contact her, she needed space. So I did. After all I’d done I had to respect that. And I left for the UK because the goddamn press was all over me. When she finally did call I tried to explain but she said it didn’t matter, that it was all sorted now and she never wanted to discuss what had happened again.’

Yeah, that sounded like Bella. Efficiently cleaning up the mess, putting on a brave face and carrying on.

It also sounded like her right now, not wanting to talk about the kiss.

‘I told her if she wanted to go to every media outlet in the world and trash me, I would understand but she was horrified that I would even think that she would splash our private life around and made me promise that I wouldn’t do it either. She said she didn’t want much but she was asking me to keep my mouth zipped so I assured her I would. I was already ducking paps every time I stuck my head out the door and I felt bad enough about the way things had gone down without keeping the story going.’

Ugh. Oliver’s sincere remorse, etched into every one of his brow lines made it very hard to stay mad at him. Yes, he’d done a terrible thing but the situation – as was often the case – was more nuanced than that. And it was clear he felt genuine regret and had done all he could to make the fallout easier for Bella.

As he should have.

Which didn’t make him a bad person. Yes, he’d done a bad thing but he’d acknowledged it and done all he could to alleviate the situation. Which surely made him a decent guy?

But that was not helping the morning after they’d kissed. Nor was it helping her payback plan. She was here to mess with him. Not see his side of things. Not rationalise his actions. Not question the validity of what she’d set out to do even though the nuance was giving her second thoughts.

His phone chose that moment to vibrate on the table and Paige could have kissed it for putting a stop to her conflicting emotions. He broke eye contact to pick it up and read the message, setting it down again without replying. ‘I’m off to London for two days. I’ll be back Sunday lunch time.’

Paige couldn’t decide if she was miffed or relieved at his announcement. Was he giving them both some space? Or was he running away like he’d run from Redondo?

Or maybe, you idiot , he just had some business to attend to.

‘Will you be okay by yourself?’

Taken aback, Paige nodded. It was surprisingly nice to have someone other than her mother ask that question. A man, even. Maybe it wasn’t very feminist of her but she liked it. ‘I’m used to being on my own.’

As soon as the words were out, she cringed internally, hoping they hadn’t come across as sad as they’d sounded. After all, he was used to being on his own, too.

‘I have a car coming for me in half an hour.’

Of course he did. ‘Okay.’

Their gazes fused for a beat or two and neither said anything but the echo of the kiss lived and breathed in those nanoseconds.

‘Can I send through more pages if I get some done on the commute?’

Paige blinked. Okay, clearly it was not living and breathing for him… ‘Sure.’ She nodded like a freaking marionette – stiff and wooden. ‘Send through whatever you have.’

‘Thanks,’ he murmured before standing. ‘Better get ready.’

Casper trailed after him as he departed and Pavarotti followed his progress looking utterly bereft – who knew that was possible for a hamster?

Great, just what she needed for company the next couple of days – the Oliver bloody Prendergast fan club.

* * *

Oliver left, as scheduled, half an hour later and Paige was relieved. She was almost positive that’s what the feeling was in the pit of her stomach, anyway. The animals, on the other hand, went into some kind of mourning. Casper sat in the hallway near the front door as if waiting for his master’s return and Pavarotti was so despondent, his wheel neglected, that Paige considered giving him some caramel popcorn to pep him up. But, it wasn’t right to get him hooked again when he’d come so far.

Ignoring the animals and thoughts of what had happened between her and Oliver, Paige took advantage of his absence to do some work she’d been neglecting in favour of her payback shenanigans. She threw a ball for Casper on the beach for over an hour and wondered if the gusty grey weather would ever stop. After lunch, Oliver’s first pages came through and she switched to that.

In it he talked about the first time he’d realised his father was unfaithful to his mother and how her often brittle smile had suddenly made sense. He talked about his profound disappointment and how his mother had tried to keep Oliver’s rose-coloured glasses firmly in place by assuring him it was okay and that it was normal for men like his father and that it was just what they did.

Damn it. Compassion for that bewildered eight-year-old boy flooded in. It seemed like having those blinkers ripped away had been gutting. She wanted to go back in time and hug him and tell him it wasn’t okay, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t what men did.

She wanted to tell her that as well.

The pages the next day were just as wrenching as she read them curled up on the couch in her comfy but clingy yoga pants and a T-shirt that had a Dorito with Danny DeVito’s face on it and the phrase Danny Dorito underneath. The new writing focused on Oliver’s decision to accept his father’s invitation to live in California at the age of fifteen.

With his mother’s encouragement, Oliver had agreed. Ostensibly because he’d decided he wanted to work in movies and he might as well exploit whatever cachet the son of Roger Prendergast afforded him. But also because, as a teenager, Oliver had started to realise that his father was only human, despite the pedestal he’d put him on.

And, if his mum could forgive him, then maybe he could cut him some slack, too?

But, his mother had cried when he’d left and backtracked, begging him to just go for a holiday then return to the UK. Which had left him torn. She’d been pushing Oliver to have a relationship with his father and now he was on the cusp of that, her tears had made him feel guilty about the decision.

It had clearly been hard and horrible and Paige thought it was a bloody miracle Oliver Prendergast had turned out as normal as he had and thanked God he was away until tomorrow lest she do something dumb like hug him. She supposed the therapy he’d written about quite openly had helped put things into perspective and she was envious of that for a moment. Maybe she could do with talking to somebody about the trauma she’d been through four years ago?

Not that she could afford an expensive London shrink like Oliver.

But she could afford a bottle of red wine and sometimes that was as good a therapy as any. It’d do for a lonely Saturday night anyway.

By eight o’clock, ninety minutes after she’d opened the wine, she was on the last glass, the bottle sitting empty on the kitchen bench, her mixed playlist pumping out of her Bluetooth speaker as she danced and swayed to the music.

Both Casper and Pavarotti were in the media room with a movie on – 101 Dalmatians . The 1961 animated version, of course, because Oliver was a purist. Neither of them had budged. It was like, in lieu of having Oliver home, they were commemorating their adoration by indulging in one of his favourite past times.

It would be sad if it wasn’t so damn funny.

Paige on the other hand, who’d only had a handful of crackers with her bottle of wine, was now officially tipsy. Tipsy enough to pick up her phone and re-read the private message she’d received from Bella yesterday.

Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Hope everything’s okay.

The guilt she’d already been feeling multiplied. It was so nice of Bella to be concerned. She’d obviously noticed that Paige had been distinctly quiet in the main group for the last little while. The fact she was sensitive to that spoke volumes about Bella’s character and why she liked her so much and why she was in Cornwall doing this deed for her.

Busy – that’s the reason she’d given herself for not responding to the group messages. And she was busy. But the truth was – that wasn’t the only reason. Getting to know Oliver through his relationship with his father had given her second thoughts about her mission here. She knew that he had hurt Bella dreadfully but things were seldom black and white, right?

Which didn’t mean she’d abandoned the payback plan but… it had given her pause.

And then, of course, there was the kiss…

But that had been an aberration. Not happening again. And by avoiding the WhatsApp group all she was doing was sewing doubt and worry amongst her friends. They’d been noting her absence in their chatter and, damn it, she missed being part of them.

At the moment, just drunk enough, she missed it acutely. Her finger hovered over the group chat button and then she started to type.