Chapter 14
Pushing John away, she reached for Rob’s wrist, pressed his watch at the same time as hers. There was a beep, and Rob blinked open his eyes. She looked down at her wrist and saw a blue square glow on the screen, then shift into a heart.
“Hello,” Rob said, smiling at John and then sitting up as though nothing had happened.
“What the fuck?” John said, pushing himself away from Rob, scooting back across the floor, eyes wide in terror.
“Nothing, it’s fine. You revived him. Yay!” Chloe said, raising her arms like a cheerleader. Then she remembered she was only wearing a towel and had to grab it before it slipped off entirely.
“I didn’t. You asked me to stop and then…Why did you say I might break him?” John asked. His face had turned pale, his eyes haunted, but there was sweat on his brow, and he reached a hand to wipe it away.
“You were just pressing really hard, it felt like overkill,” Chloe said, her head spinning because she did not know how to get out of this.
“Overkill?” John said, his whole face creasing up in disbelief.
Why the hell wouldn’t Avery have said that if you took the device off, he would cut out like that? Of all the information to impart, that detail felt pretty fucking critical.
“Sorry about that,” said Rob. “Temporary blip.” Then he reached for John’s hand for help standing.
“What is going on here?” John said, clutching his head between his palms. “You weren’t breathing, you had no heartbeat.
” He was glaring at Rob as though accusing him of something, which he was—he was accusing him of having been dead.
“No one just jumps up after a stroke or a heart attack and says, ‘Sorry about that.’ ”
“He’s dairy intolerant, I got the wrong milk in his coffee, it’s probably that,” Chloe said, improvising. “It makes him pass out sometimes.”
“He is not dairy intolerant. I know that because you didn’t put it on your dietary requirements form,” John said, narrowing his eyes at her as though he were Inspector Clouseau and had just caught her out in a crucial deception. “And dairy intolerance does not make your heart stop.”
During this whole exchange, Rob was looking back and forth between Chloe and John, as though he were listening to a riveting radio play and he couldn’t wait to hear how it ended.
“Ah well, all’s well that ends well,” Chloe said.
“Now I must get dressed, if you will excuse me. Thank you for your help, and for the lovely stick.” She pulled her towel farther up her chest, then realized her legs were also quite exposed now, so pulled it back down to where it had been.
Why was this towel so small? “Rob, you sit down, I’m sure you must feel a bit light-headed.
I’ll make you some tea. Some black tea.”
She feigned a smile, and then before John could object any further, she ushered him out the door. “See you at the picnic! Hopefully there won’t be any more near drownings or faintings for you to deal with, ha ha.”
Then, before he could respond, she gave him a cheerful smile and shut the door in his face.
When she turned back to Rob she said, “That was close.”
“Did you take off your device?” Rob asked, still looking confused and disoriented.
“Just for a second. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”
“The feedback loop can falter if you disconnect suddenly without powering down correctly,” he explained, rubbing his chest. “It was explained in the terms and conditions.”
“If I’d read all the terms and conditions, I’d still be there reading them,” Chloe said, walking over to put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Sorry, that must have been inconvenient.” Rob reached out to pull her into a hug.
“What’s John going to think?” she said into his chest. “He was already suspicious. We’ll have to avoid him for the rest of the weekend now.” As soon as she’d said it, she realized that of everyone here, John was the one person she didn’t want to avoid.
This thought was interrupted by Chloe’s phone. She ran to grab it, fearful it might be Avery, worried she might somehow know that Chloe had disobeyed her instructions. How closely was she being tracked? But it wasn’t Avery, it was McKenzie.
“It’s my boss, I’d better answer it,” she said, accepting the call.
“Chloe, it’s Mr. McKenzie. Sorry to call at the weekend, but I hoped you might update me. Have you had a chance to talk to Sean Adler yet?” he asked, his voice light, trying to pretend he wasn’t pinning all his hopes for the business on this.
“I have been talking to him, yes,” Chloe said, which wasn’t a lie. “I’m just waiting for the right opportunity to talk shop. I want time to lay the groundwork, tell him about you and the company first. I’m keen to make sure I do the pitch justice.”
“Right,” said McKenzie. He sounded disappointed. “Just don’t miss your chance. I really do think, if you pitch it right, he’d jump at this. I’m counting on you, Chloe.”
Rob, who could hear the conversation, whispered, “Remind him about the email you sent, about you taking a more creative role, putting a timeframe in place.”
“Don’t worry, I will talk to Sean before the end of the weekend, Mr. McKenzie,” she said. “On a separate matter, do you remember what we discussed, about me taking a more creative role in the company? You didn’t come back to my email.”
“Sure,” he said, though he sounded vague.
“You’re going to need it in writing,” Rob whispered.
“Only, I’m going to need it in writing. I want it to be official,” Chloe said down the phone.
“Give Sean the script, and I’ll put something in writing,” said McKenzie.
Rob shook his head. “This isn’t contingent.”
“This isn’t contingent,” Chloe said firmly, not really sure if “contingent” was the right word in this context.
“You’re overqualified,” said Rob.
“You’re overqualified—I mean, I’m overqualified. You know I am. I need this job to work for both of us, and I’d like to see that commitment from you in writing.”
She looked to Rob, and he gave a double thumbs-up, impressed with her persistence.
“Fine,” Mr. McKenzie mumbled. “But I want proof Adler gets that script in his hands.”
“I’ll send you a photo of him holding it.” She hung up, feeling exhilarated.
“You were incredible,” said Rob. “That was perfect—assertive but professional.”
“No, you were great. I would never have said that if you hadn’t coached me.”
“You knew what to say, you just needed a push.”
Chloe felt a rush of confidence. Why hadn’t she been able to talk to McKenzie like that before?
Rob pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
It felt nice, warm, celebratory even. But now, something about it didn’t sit right.
There was no obvious flaw, no wrong move.
Just…a slight dissonance. Like walking into a house and realizing it wasn’t your home.
She pulled away, looking up at his face, and he looked back at her adoringly.
No, Rob was good for her. He was helping her in so many ways.
She knew exactly where she stood with him.
Then—unbidden—the memory of John surfaced.
The weightlessness of being carried through the water, the feel of his arms around her, the hot sensation that pulsed through her when their eyes met.
Even the memory sparked, like a jolt of electricity.
She blinked, shoved it back. This wasn’t helpful. She was here with Rob. John knew that. Whatever this was between her and John, it was a complication she wasn’t ready to name. And it certainly wasn’t something she could act on.
“Shall we go and look at bookshops? Pick up fish and chips for the picnic?” Rob suggested, trailing his fingers down her arm. Part of her wanted to do just that, to jump back into the fantasy, but she needed a moment alone.
“You go, I’m going to have this bath, then I need to make a call.”
Rob didn’t look disappointed or ask who she needed to call. He just said, “Sure. Why don’t I buy you the new Kristin Hannah book? I saw it was top of your wish list.”
“Thank you, that’s so sweet,” she said, feeling a warm glow at how attentive and considerate he was. “Could you pick up a watermelon for the picnic too?”
“Sure thing,” he said, then he kissed her and left.
She slipped into the bath, put her phone on the side, and called Akiko on speakerphone.
“Perfect timing—Elodie’s asleep,” Akiko whispered. “Hang on. I’m walking downstairs.” There was a pause, footsteps, then, “So, how’s it going with the male prostitute?”
“He’s not a male prostitute,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes. “He is a professional companion.”
“I know I was joking about it before, but seriously, Chlo, there are decent men in the world.” Akiko’s voice turned serious. “You don’t need to pay someone to date you.”
“I know, I know. It’s just—he’s nice, he’s kind, I know where I stand. He’s helping me.”
Chloe’s eyes fluttered closed as she sank back in the warm bath.
She dipped her head beneath the water, letting it envelop her in a watery cocoon.
She loved baths. She often read in one until it turned cold, topping up just enough to finish another chapter.
She would never be able to take a bath with Rob.
Though to be fair, when you were five feet ten there weren’t many baths you were going to fit in with a six-foot-something boyfriend.
She surfaced above the water, because she couldn’t hear Kiko properly from beneath it.
“So he’s good at his job. Enjoy him for the weekend and then say goodbye,” Kiko said, then paused. “Do I need to come down there and stage another intervention?”
“No.” Chloe’s mind flashed to that night in London—Akiko shouting through the letter box, heavily pregnant and furious: “I am a hormonal woman who just survived a sweaty, crowded train from Edinburgh—do not think I’m leaving without seeing my best friend.
” Peter had finally opened the door, rattled by her persistence.
When Kiko wrangled her out to a pub that night, it was the first time she’d been alone with a girlfriend in months.
“It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“But do you really? That kind of relationship, the emotional manipulation, it can happen to anyone. It wasn’t some failing in you, it wasn’t a weakness.”
“I know,” Chloe said again, her voice catching. For the first time, she actually believed it. There was a shriek in the background.
“Oh no,” said Akiko. “The evil empress arises.”
“I should go anyway,” Chloe said, not wanting Kiko to feel bad. “Send me a photo of my gorgeous goddaughter?”
“Of course,” Akiko said, sounding delighted. “Send me a photo of you, Sean, and John. I’ll Photoshop myself in.”
“Wait,” Chloe said suddenly, thinking of her conversation with John about Kiko. “I don’t have to go, and I don’t mind if we talk while she’s crying and you’re feeding or changing her or whatever. You don’t need to ring off whenever she cries. Do what you need to do, I can just be here.”
There was a moment of silence on the line, and Chloe wondered if Kiko had already hung up. Then she heard Elodie shriek and Kiko said, “Thank you,” in a small, shaky voice that didn’t sound like her at all.
“It sounds hard, being so needed,” Chloe said gently.
“It is,” Kiko said, her voice still small.
Kiko had always been the strong one, the loud one, the one who had her shit together.
Now Chloe felt like maybe she’d taken that strength for granted, had failed to read between the lines.
She might not have known much about babies, but her best friend had one, so she needed to pay more attention.
“Tell me how it feels, being a mum, the good and the bad. I’m listening, no detail too boring, I promise,” Chloe prompted.
Then she sat in the bath until the water got cold, listening to her friend try to feed her baby while telling her about the hell of cracked nipples and reflux medication.
About how she missed work but then felt guilty for not enjoying every minute of motherhood.
About how scared she felt by the intensity of love she felt for this tiny creature.
By the end of the call, Elodie had stopped crying, and Kiko’s voice had grown bigger again.
“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t know if I could talk to you about this stuff. I didn’t want you to think I’d got boring.”
“Kiko, you could never be boring, but also, you’re allowed to be boring. I know you’re used to being the one with all the stories, making people laugh, but you don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Kiko said, sniffing on the line. “And I fully support your relationship with a prostitute, if that’s what’s right for you.”
Once she’d said goodbye, Chloe looked at the phone in her hand, then typed Sean a message.
Chloe
Hey, are you busy? Want to meet before the picnic?
He replied a few minutes later. Sure. See you at our place in ten?
She got dressed, grabbed the script from the side table, and thrust it into her bag. Whatever emotional wounds this weekend had opened, she might as well rip off all the Band-Aids at once.