8. Chapter Eight #2
“I have some work to do, so if they get sick of me, I can always stick with that,” Mabel reminded him.
“I thought you were on vacation?”
“I’m definitely between projects, but occasionally something comes up.”
Mindful of Freddy’s earlier words, Colin asked, “You write code, correct?”
“Yeah.” She looked up at him, a hint of wariness in her eyes. “Software for new ventures, apps, and devices. Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “I just wondered. Do you like doing that?”
“I love it.” She sighed. “Except I’ve been totally engrossed in work since I turned seventeen and recently it all kind of got to me. That’s why I was able to take this long vacation.” She peered at him in the gathering dusk. “I thought I told you all this before. Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all.” He hastened to reassure her. “I assume that kind of work is quite lucrative?”
Her slow smile made him stare longingly at her mouth. “Are you fishing for a loan or something? Because I already said—”
He held up his hand. “Not at all! I know how expensive it is to live in Silicon Valley and you have family members to support and rent to pay. If you’re currently not working, you need your savings for that.”
Her brow creased. “Why does the idea of me loaning you money freak you out so much?”
“I suppose it’s because I’m tired of always being seen as a failure and I’d like to sort out my money problems by myself.”
She nodded slowly. “I kind of get that, but I’m not going to judge you when you’ve been handed a massive problem that isn’t your own making.”
“Thank you, but I’m still not expecting you to save my arse,” Colin said firmly. “Can we talk about something else?”
Mabel waggled her eyebrows at him. “I can think of something, but it depends how you feel about being tied to a fourposter bed.”
“That already happened to me once at university, and I don’t want to repeat the experience.” Colin finished washing up and put the last plate on the draining rack.
“You’re very hard to shock,” Mabel complained. She finished her coffee and handed over the cup.
“Well, they always say the British aristocracy are a law unto themselves and they’re definitely kinky.”
“Do I want to know how you ended up tied to a fourposter at college?” Mabel asked.
Colin frowned. “I think it had something to do with an escaped pig and a dare, but I’m rather hazy on the details. I can assure you that it wasn’t much fun.”
She pouted. “That’s a shame, because I’ve always had this fantasy of being tied up and ravished princess-like in a big fourposter bed.”
“Well, that’s different.” He threw the tea towel over the back of the nearest chair. “My experience will come in very handy then, won’t it?”
Mabel woke up to find Colin was already gone.
He’d left a rose in a jam jar on her bedside table, along with a sweet note that made her blush.
She leaned back against the pillows and enjoyed the sounds of the countryside—a mixture of birdsong and the horses and their caretakers in the nearby stables.
She’d never lived anywhere so quiet. She liked it.
She liked the pace of life, the way no one was bugging her about how much she earned, what her next project was, or anything transactional.
Freddy had tried to get her to open up to him a couple of times, but she wasn’t convinced his motives were entirely pure.
The last thing she wanted was to give him any ammunition to use against Colin.
Her slight smile faded. Could she live someplace like this?
Not that Colin had indicated that he’d like her to stay permanently, or anything.
But it did seem obvious he appreciated her support and her presence for the time being.
And she liked him—she liked him a lot—he felt like home and made her feel safe.
She checked the time and decided to get up, figuring she should deal with her email before going off to find Felicity and Colin’s grandmother.
Mabel had given her mom strict instructions not to tell any of her work colleagues exactly where she’d gone, because she knew they’d freak out. As far as they were concerned, she was holed up somewhere in Napa Valley enjoying the vineyards.
After a leisurely soak in the huge bath, she fed Felix the kitchen cat and sat down at the pine table with her laptop and her phone beside her. The first couple of emails were easy to deal with because they were from her broker. The next four, not so much.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Joss had sent. It was the first of several messages from him.
“Dammit.” Mabel frowned at the screen.
Apparently, Joss had been desperate enough to talk with her that he’d tracked her IP address, or something similarly nerdy.
She composed a reply to the first, making sure to cc Iko and Deepak.
None of your business. I already told you I was taking 3 months off.
The next email contained a detailed explanation of a new project, and she read it out of curiosity. By the message’s end, though, her usual excitement was missing. The thought of starting something new right now made her want to cry.
We need you here, Mabe. There’s a new opportunity that’s too good to miss. You can’t be that selfish not to help out your team. We’ve been in this together for years!
After a deep breath she wrote a reply.
I am not interested in pursuing this project right now. I suggest you find someone else.
Her phone buzzed with a text notification from Joss.
ARE YOU FRICKING KIDDING ME??
Mabel compressed her lips. She hated being addressed in all caps.
THIS ISN’T FAIR, MABE. WE’RE A TEAM. WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER.
She sent back:
I’m not stopping you from going ahead, Joss. There are plenty of other people who can do my job and would welcome the challenge.
He replied quickly.
IT WOULD BE TOO DIFFICULT TO START AGAIN WITH SOMEONE NEW. WE DON’T HAVE THE TIME.
Mabel exhaled slowly and sent another message.
That’s not my problem. I’m not in the right place for this project. I am too close to burn out.
THEN MAKE THIS THE LAST ONE YOU DO. PLEASE??!! I NEED THE MONEY SO THAT I CAN MARRY SAMMY AND HAVE KIDS. DON’T LET YOUR JEALOUSY OF MY HAPPINESS RUIN EVERYONES’ LIVES!
She might have said a bad word as her fingers flew over the keyboard.
This isn’t fair, Joss. I’m not prepared to sacrifice my mental health just to make you richer, okay? If you don’t stop trying to guilt me into doing this, I’m going to block you and the others completely, and I’ll never work with you again.
Mabel shut down her laptop, plugged her phone into the charger on the counter and made herself a fresh cup of coffee.
She waited to feel her regular guilt for standing up to Joss and instead felt nothing but relief at finally putting her foot down.
There was more to life than making money and just because she’d realized it sooner than all the others didn’t make her the bad guy.
A few moments later, she received a text from Iko.
Joss is way out of line. I’ll talk to him, okay?
Mabel pushed her phone away. She needed to get away from her devices and out of the house. Where better to go than to Colin’s grandmother who lived her life like it was always the roaring twenties and treated Mabel like a foreigner who hadn’t quite grasped the language?
Mabel paused to pick some flowers from the beautiful garden and walked down to the main house. She found the dowager countess in the breakfast room consuming quantities of toast and marmalade while Felicity toyed listlessly with a boiled egg.
“Good morning, Lady Marcham,” Mabel said brightly. “I brought you some flowers.”
“How lovely, my dear. Hand them over to Felicity. She’s a whizz at arranging them.”
“Hi Felicity,” Mabel set the flowers near Felicity and took a seat opposite the dowager. “What can I help you with today?”
“You can accompany me to the village where I wish to consult with the baker about a birthday cake for Freddy.”
“I would’ve thought Mrs. Reynolds would’ve been all over that. She adores Freddy.”
“She’s rather busy making fairy cakes for the W.I.
stall at the Saturday market,” Felicity said.
As usual she wore a long skirt, a high-necked blouse, her droopy cardigan, and a single strand of pearls.
To Mabel she always looked like she’d stepped out of the nineteen thirties.
Did she even own a pair of jeans? One day Mabel intended to find out.
“Lovely!” Mabel smiled. “I’ve hardly had a chance to get down to the village yet, so this will be a real treat!”
Fifteen minutes later they were on their way down the long drive, Lady Marcham with her trusty cane and her arm firmly through Mabel’s, while Felicity brought up the rear with her two Jack Russell terriers, Ping and Pong.
Despite the overgrown trees and the patchy gravel Mabel appreciated the shade and the gentle breeze.
“I assume we won’t be bringing the cake back with us?” Mabel inquired. “Or should we take the car?”
“Oh, they’ll deliver it. They are most obliging.”
“Just like Uber Eats,” Mabel murmured.
“Eats what, dear?”
“Nothing. What are Freddy’s favorite cake flavors?”
“Chocolate anything,” Felicity said.
“Can’t argue with that.” Mabel grinned. “Are there a lot of stores in the village?”
“Not many. Most people do their shopping in the bigger towns these days because it’s so much cheaper. But we still have a small general shop and post office along with the baker and the butcher.”
“No fast food?”
“Only if you count the microwaved pasties at the pub.” Felicity whistled to her dogs and attached their leashes.
“I love pubs.” Mabel patted one of the dogs as he licked the side of her hiking boots. “Maybe we could stop off for lunch. Does it have a garden?”
“I think so.” Felicity frowned. “I haven’t been there for years. Father doesn’t really approve of women going into bars.”
Mabel suppressed a snort. “We won’t really be going in. It’s such a lovely day we could sit in the garden. My treat.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” the dowager said. “And I know Mr. Wilkes won’t mind the dogs at all.”