Chapter 15
15
POPPY
‘Thanks, Marie. And how long do you think it will take?’ I ask, the phone pressed to my ear.
‘Pfff, two or three days,’ she says. I can imagine an accompanying shrug and the downward turn of her mouth. ‘And the case name?’
‘It’s not for a case. This is for a family member. You can send the bill directly to me.’
‘ D’accord .’
The line goes silent, and I realise it’s because she’s ended the call. When I set my phone down, Tristan is standing in the doorway of our guest room (AKA Saffron’s room).
‘Working?’ he asks.
‘Just looking into that little worm, Tyler.’
Clearly intrigued, he comes in and sits on the bed. ‘And Tyler is…?’
Evie confided in me, but Tristan is my husband, and everyone knows that spouses and partners are included in the inner sanctum when it comes to secrets.
‘Evie’s soon-to-be ex-boyfriend – well, hopefully , she gives Tyler the Prick the flick. From what she’s told me, he’s been cheating on her.’
‘Ouch,’ he says, recoiling.
‘Yes.’
‘So why engage Marie?’ he asks.
‘I want irrefutable proof – in case Evie wavers from her decision to break it off.’
‘Is she likely to do that, do you think?’
‘I’m not sure. Olivia says she hasn’t done it yet, but that’s understandable. I know how difficult it can be to leave a bad relationship, even when you know it’s hurting you to stay,’ I say, sorrow creeping into my voice.
Tristan reaches his arms out, and I stand and cross to him. He pulls me into his lap and hugs me as I rest my head against his. He knows all about Malcolm, a man I dated for more than two years, a man I thought I loved, but who was actually married the entire time.
‘I’ve invited them over next Saturday night – Evie and Olivia. Jass is coming too, but Shaz and Lauren have plans.’
‘Girls’ night in?’ he asks.
‘Yep. Either to celebrate Evie’s emancipation or continue coaxing her towards it. She deserves so much better, Tris.’
‘Agreed. And I’m guessing I’m not invited to this girls’ night in?’ he asks, lightening the mood.
I lean back and regard him with a smile. ‘You have guessed correctly, Mr Fellows,’ I say, emphasising ‘Mr’. ‘You and Ravi should do something, since Jass will be here.’
‘I’ll give him a call.’
We watch each other for a moment, then I lean down and kiss him. It’s a soft kiss to begin with, sweet and gentle, but being in Tristan’s arms always ignites me and soon it becomes something else entirely.
Tristan’s tongue parts my lips and touches mine as he pulls me closer, one hand reaching up to cradle the nape of my neck. He falls back onto the bed, taking me with him and our hands start roaming each other’s bodies. He’s tugging my top over my head when we’re interrupted by my ringtone.
We stop and breathless, I look over my shoulder.
‘You should answer that,’ says Tristan, who knows I need to be on call for my clients.
I push off him and put my top back on as I cross to my antique secretary and pick up my phone. It’s Greta. I take a deep breath to help slow my heart rate.
‘Hi, Greta,’ I say cheerily.
‘Hi, Poppy, so sorry to bother you on a Sunday but do you have a few minutes?’
I glance at Tristan, who’s now resting on his elbows, and mouth, ‘I have to take this.’
He winks at me and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
‘All good,’ I say. ‘What can I do for you?’
The next morning, I call George over to my desk, telling him to bring his laptop. He rolls his chair over and sits, propping his laptop on his knees and looking at me expectantly.
‘What is it? It’s bad, isn’t it?’ he asks. ‘Your face is all… pinched.’
‘Greta’s getting cold feet,’ I reply, ignoring the comment about my face.
‘How do you mean?’
‘She’s having a crisis of conscience. She’s told Ewan she’s writing a series of articles on obsessions, rather than dating, she hates Anjali not knowing that she knows the real objective for the writing assignment, and yesterday, she told her parents she’s already dating Harrison. The only person in her life who knows the truth is her best friend, Tiggy, and, apparently, Greta’s not as comfortable with lying as I am. She’s reconsidering every aspect of the case.’
‘First off,’ he says, ‘I’m going to need a spreadsheet to keep track of who knows what in this case.’
‘Wanna get on that?’ I quip.
‘Er, no, thanks. And second, did she really say it like that, the part about lying?’
He’s asking if she meant to insult me. In the business of matchmaking, we tend to use the term ‘fibbing’ instead of ‘lying’, even though we recognise they’re the same thing and we’re just playing semantics. Still, Greta wouldn’t be the first person to mention their discomfort with ‘fibbing’ and I never take it as an insult if it comes up.
‘She did, but I doubt she meant to offend me. I do think we need to help untangle some of the threads for her, though,’ I add. ‘Otherwise, she’ll confess to Anjali she’s in the know about her true intentions and tell her parents she and Harrison broke up before she’s even met him.’
‘But what if Harrison turns out to be her match?’ he asks, aghast.
‘Exactly. She shoots herself in the foot. “Hey, Mum and Dad, you know how I said I broke up with Harrison? Well, we’re back together!”.’
‘You realise Harrison will need to be read in as well, right?’ asks George.
‘Oh, you’re right. If Harrison is Greta’s match, she’s going to have to explain that she lied to her parents about when they started dating.’
‘Mmm-hmm,’ he replies.
We both think for a moment.
‘How about?—’
‘What if?—’
‘You go,’ I say.
‘What if we convince her to stay the course by fast-tracking the kissing-frogs part of the case?’ says George.
‘But aren’t we doing that already? She’s had two of the four dates and she’s meeting the part-time naturist on the weekend. I suppose we could squeeze in Sir Dates-A-Lot this week. What was his name?’
George’s fingers fly over the keyboard of his laptop. ‘Travis.’
‘Right, Travis. If we can convince her to keep going with the current plan, she knocks off two more dates by the end of the week, writes some articles, which appeases Anjali, then we move Greta onto the next phase.’
‘Meeting Harrison,’ says George.
‘Yep. Oh!’ I point at his laptop. ‘Can you just check…’
‘Oh, good point.’ His fingers fly again, and he angles the laptop towards me so I can see the screen. ‘Still available,’ he says, referring to Harrison’s status in our system. Although, he may be using other services, and sometimes our potentials don’t update us right away when they become unavailable.
‘Are you all right?’ he asks me, peering at me with concern.
‘Yes. Just… there are a lot of moving parts with this case.’
‘Poppy, remember: how do you eat an elephant?’ he asks, raising something Ursula told us on a particularly tricky case we all worked on together.
‘One bite at a time,’ I answer.
‘Precisely. Let’s meet with Greta at Nouveau and?—’
‘George, I no longer work there. We’re not going to Nouveau . If you want to see Mimi, just call her and set it up.’
‘All right, fair . But we do need to meet with Greta.’
‘Agreed, but I think I’d prefer to do it alone.’
I stare at the peace lily on my desk. How have I let this case get so complicated? Have I made a misstep somewhere? Great – now I’m having a crisis, only mine is a crisis of confidence.
‘It’ll work out, Poppy,’ says George.
I look up and meet his eye, then break into a smile even though I don’t feel like smiling. ‘Thanks, George. One bite at a time, right?’
‘Yes.’
He squeezes my shoulder, then rolls his chair back to his desk, and I call Greta to set up a meeting. It’s time to get this case back on track.
Greta
As Poppy and I take a seat at my favourite table in The Daily Grind, tentacles of nervousness writhe through my abdomen. I know exactly why she’s called this meeting – it’s about my (latest) panicked phone call. I must be the neediest client she’s ever had.
That is if I still am her client.
Despite everything I said to her on Sunday night, I woke up this morning feeling sick about the possibility of Poppy closing my case because I’m unable to handle the lying.
And when I examined why I felt sick, rather than relieved, it was because of Harrison – not just because I think he’s handsome and ‘good on paper’. What if he is The One?
‘So, what should we discuss first?’ I ask, pretending this is just like any other meeting. ‘Your column? Or rather, your former column? I really am sorry we had to pull it.’
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ she replies with a wave of her hand. ‘Let’s be honest, after the extensive revisions Bex had to make, it’s fairly obvious I should keep my day job.’
I return her smile and take a sip of my coffee as I purposefully attempt to calm my nerves.
‘I have been thinking about how to keep you on at Nouveau Life ,’ I continue. ‘To maintain your cover, but I?—’
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she says, ‘but if you’re happy to keep meeting here, I don’t think we need to fabricate another writing assignment.’
‘Oh?’ I ask, surprised. ‘But… I’m confused – the first time we met, Anjali was adamant we needed a plausible guise for you to be at Nouveau .’
‘I know and I understand your confusion. But, with you in the loop and my column being pulled… I think we can skip Poppy’s Column 2.0, don’t you? And if anyone from Nouveau sees us together, like here at the coffee shop, you can just tell them we’ve become friends.’
‘So, another lie,’ I say, bringing us back to Sunday’s conversation and sending my abdomen into full-blown spasms. I shift in my seat and set my coffee down. I don’t think I can stomach it now.
‘Look, I understand that you’re feeling overwhelmed by all the subterfuge. I imagine it’s challenging, especially for such an honest person.’
‘Well, yes,’ I agree, somewhat relieved. ‘A few days ago, after my date with Aman, I was all fired up. I was determined to write these bloody articles, put the bad dates behind me, and finally meet Harrison. And then …’ I trail off, not wanting to work myself into too much of a lather – especially not here in what’s become a sanctuary of sorts.
‘Then you felt you had to lie to your family,’ she says, completing my thought.
‘Yes,’ I reply softly. ‘And now I’m not sure how to handle it – the guilt, the confusion … Poppy, I really don’t want you close my case but I’m not sure how to?—’
‘Sorry – I know I’m interrupting again – but I’m not planning on closing your case. Not unless you ask me to.’
‘Really? I… I worried that after I called you, you’d decide I’m not up the task and call it off.’
‘Remember when I said your case was my number-one priority?’
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘I meant that. You’re my client, Greta – not Anjali. I know how complicated this case has become and how much is being asked of you. I’m here to support you – to help you navigate the twists and turns and get everything back on track.’
‘So you think I should just admit to Anjali I know what’s going on?’
‘That’s entirely up to you,’ she replies gently.
I breathe out noisily, now more confused than ever and – again – baulking at the thought of coming clean to Anjali. It would certainly simplify some of the machinations of this case but what impact would it have on our relationship? I find myself frowning at my coffee, and I look up at Poppy.
‘I don’t want to disappoint Anjali. She has such good intentions and we’re so deep into the lie… Besides, as you said, kissing frogs is helpful, especially for someone like me who’s practically a novice when it comes to love. And I’ve already drafted the first two articles. Poppy, they’re good – they’re really good – some of the best writing I’ve done in ages.’
Poppy chuckles. ‘It sounds like you don’t need my help getting back on track.’
‘No, I do – or I did. It helps just talking to you.’
She smiles, then points to herself. ‘Expert listener.’
‘Now that would be a good article for Nouveau – the benefits of talking to a therapist.’
She raises her hands in surrender. ‘Count me out. As of today, I’m retiring from all forms of journalism.’
‘Well, back to me then,’ I say, making her smile. ‘So just two more bad dates, then I get to meet Harrison?’
‘That’s the plan. And George and I want to move the fourth date to this week.’
‘Ooh, that means I could be meeting Harrison soon .’
‘Yes.’
I bite my lip in anticipation, conjuring his handsome face in my mind. Ever since I imagined him in my flat – and what he would do to me in my flat – just the thought of Harrison has the power to flood my body with warmth. Those russet-brown eyes, those broad shoulders, that sexy stubble…
I’ve chastised myself innumerable times for crushing on a man I haven’t met, but Harrison is Poppy’s top pick and I trust her judgement implicitly. I have every reason to believe he will be everything I’m hoping for.