“Lucy!” she shrieks in the false, over-friendly tone much used by the harridans in that department. They approve the time sheets that go into my temp agency every month and, as such, have supreme power over me, so I have to pretend that I like them. I widen my mouth in what might be considered a smile in some parts of the world. “God!” she carries on. “I heard all about your whitewater rafting disaster!”
I’m sure.
“I heard Aiden Holby rescued you!”
You heard right.
“Did he really haul you out of the water? Is it true that your overalls came completely off? Did he really have his hands all over your arse?”
Yes. Sort of. No, he just looked.
“He is so hot!” Helen continues, unaware that I haven’t yet spoken. I sigh and punch in my beverage request to this Star Trek flight-deck abortion that is our coffee and tea machine. Eventually, having cracked the computer code, a feeble dribble of brown liquid oozes out into a plastic cup. “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed either. But you’d better be careful,” she says, laughing. “He’s dating Donna from Data Processing. She’ll be furious if she finds out what’s been going on.”
Dating Donna from Data Processing? My breath stops in my chest. Crush is seeing another woman? And I wonder how on earth she’ll find out about our little accident when this is such a well-kept secret? It’s not exactly as if I planned to hurl myself into a raging torrent just so that Mr. Aiden Holby could prove how much of a macho man he is, did I? But Donna from Data Processing would have every right to be distressed if she knew he’d been trying to play fast and loose with me in the back of a black cab. What a bastard. Toying with my emotions when all the time he’s been going out with someone else!
Helen braces herself to punch in her required drink combination, so I take the chance to skulk away while she’s otherwise engaged.
I’m sitting at my desk drinking whatever it is I’ve summoned up from the vending machine while gnashing furiously on a Toffee Crisp when Crush comes and perches on the edge. His hair is all messy and I like it when it looks like that. It makes him look as if he’s just fallen out of bed. But I don’t want to like it today.
“Have all your bruises gone now, Gorgeous?”
“I’m busy,” I say briskly as I rapidly scour my desk for something that I can look like I’m doing. “And don’t ‘Gorgeous’ me.”
“Ooo,” he says. “You’re a prickly old pear this morning. Hormones?”
“Fuck off.”
“Stuffing chocolate in at that rate is a sure sign a woman is premenstrual.”
“Oh, and you’re an expert, are you?” I stop “stuffing” chocolate in. “You’re way off the mark. Way, way off.”
“So, if you’re not hormonally challenged, why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking either.”
“Now that is something that I’m a bit of an expert in,” Crush says. “And you are sulking. In fact, I’ve never seen such a sulky puss.”
I say nothing, but try to rearrange my face into a neutral expression.
“Does this have anything to do with your introduction to whitewater rafting?” he asks.
I stay silent, but start to tap at my computer keyboard with a vengeance.
“I know that the story is entertaining the office this morning, but personally I thought you did very well. Two out of ten for skill,” he says earnestly. “But a whopping nine out of ten for artistic interpretation.”
“Get lost,” I say.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
I stop typing and lean on my desk. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone else?”
Crush looks puzzled.
“When you kissed me in the cab,” I say. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone else.”
“Would it have mattered?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t have let you.”
“You didn’t let me,” he counters. “You just sat there and looked blank. Attractively blank.”
I can’t really argue with that as it’s a pretty accurate summation.
“And I’m not actually seeing anyone.”
Hah. I have him there. I fold my arms about my chest. “What about Donna from Data Processing?”
“Ah. Donna.” He strokes his chin. “We did have a date—about three weeks ago. Fairly disastrous. Though she didn’t fall in water or bare her arse, so maybe not that disastrous. We said we must do it again. We probably won’t.”
“Oh.” I don’t really know what to say to that. Looks like Helen’s information isn’t all that accurate. You’d think those Human Resources harridans would at least get their stories straight.
“So is that what the problem is? You want a date with me?”
“I do not,” I splutter.
“We can organize it if you like.”
“I’ve told you, I’m already seeing someone else.”
“Ah. Yes,” Crush says. “Looks like I’ve missed the boat then. Or should I say raft?” He laughs uproariously at his own joke.
“Go away,” I say. “Go and annoy another minion.”
He starts to wander away, still chuckling. “By the way, Gorgeous. You’ve just typed isith firip tiggle splink plart. Do you want me to find you some real work to do?”
My cheeks are flaming. I can’t stand that man. And to prove it, I fish in my handbag until I find Jacob Lawson’s ever-so-tasteful card and I punch his number into my mobile. “Hi, Jacob,” I say when he answers. “This is Lucy Lombard returning your call. I’d love to see you tomorrow if you’re still available.”
Chapter Twenty-six
A DATE AT THE SAVOY Hotel is much better than going to my skanky yoga class. I bent the plastic this afternoon in honor of the occasion and bought a slinky frock—black, strappy, figure hugging. One that I could ill afford. I have on my sexy, black vamp shoes and a fake-fur shrug. Even I think I’m looking cool when I totter into the reception of the hotel to meet up with Jacob. I’m a match for Scarlett Johansson—even without the bee-stung lips.
My date’s already waiting for me when I arrive even though I’m on time for once. I have a lot of qualities, but punctuality isn’t one of them.
“Hi.” Jacob pecks me on the cheek and hands me a single red rose. That’s so romantic a gesture that I nearly swoon. No one has ever done that for me before. Particularly not Marcus. “You look wonderful,” he says.
“Thank you.” He’s not looking too shabby either. Jacob has on a black suit with a black open-neck shirt. He obviously works out and has a hint of a tan that’s not natural for this climate. Even though he’s blond, there’s a faint air of the Italian gigolo about him—but in a good way.
“Our table awaits.” He takes me by the arm and guides me into the Thames foyer, overlooking the slate gray ribbon of the river, where we’re shown to a table by the piano. The pianist is gently tinkling away at a romantic ballad. “Some Enchanted Evening,” if I’m not mistaken. A bottle of pink champagne is already chilling in an ice bucket. There’s a selection of exquisitely tiny cakes, chocolates and truffles laid out on a tiered stand for our delectation.
“Good evening, Mr. Lawson,” the waiter says. “Nice to see you again.”
Jacob flushes slightly which is very cute. So this is one of his regular haunts. Strange. I wouldn’t have had him down as a Savoy man. Jacob seems more suited to Fifteen or Oscars—the places where minor celebs hang out. I look round at the opulent splendor: beautiful crystal chandeliers glitter above us, stained-glass mirrors decked with flowers decorate the walls. Autumn would love those. A huge display of orchids graces the center of the room. The piano is providing relaxing background music. There’s a gentle buzz of conversation—no braying laughter or pounding beat. This is a class establishment. And my date hangs out here regularly. Mmm. What a dark horse.
The waiter talks us through the selection of confectionary. There’s a white chocolate mousse cake infused with fresh mint and topped with raspberry purée, organic truffles made
with my favorite Madagascar beans flavored with jasmine tea, passion fruit and limes sundried on trees in Iran. Even the descriptions are sending me into an ecstatic trance. Our glasses are filled. Jacob hands me one and we chink them together. “To us,” he says.
“To us,” I echo dreamily.
This is the sort of meal I like—no piddling about with starters and a main course, just straight on to the desserts! Then we start on the chocolate and, quite frankly, I’m transported to paradise. Chocolate, champagne and a cool guy—what more could a woman want? And in that order. I could seriously get used to this.
Jacob murmurs appreciatively as he tucks into the chocolate cakes. “This is the worst of my vices,” he says. “It means that I have to work out in the gym too much.”
“You said you worked in the entertainment business?”
“Here, try this.” He hands me one of the cakes. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“What sort of things do you do? Are you an agent?”
“Oh,” Jacob says, “my job is very boring. Long hours, endless demands. You don’t want to hear about that.”
“I’d love to.”
“I deal with the service side.”
“Keeping the talent happy?”
“That kind of thing.” He nods. “Now enough about work. I’d much rather talk about you.”
The trouble is, my job is crushingly boring too. Did I say “crush”? I didn’t mean to. I will not think about Crush or Marcus or anyone else tonight apart from this lovely man by my side. I wonder what they’d think if they could see me now. They wouldn’t believe it. Even I could do with pinching myself to make sure it’s real. This is the most romantic evening I’ve had for a long, long time.
“Thank you, Jacob,” I say sincerely. “This was a lovely idea.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he says. “I thought I’d spotted a fellow addict when we met in Chocolate Heaven.”
How right he is.
“Now try this,” Jacob instructs as he hands me another tiny cake, his fingers curling over mine. “Beyond divine,” he says in an affected camp voice and he kisses his fingers in a theatrical gesture.
I laugh at his joke and then bite into the soft chocolate cream and the barely there sponge. My hot, hot date asks, “Is that good?”
“Oh, yes.” It truly is beyond divine. Clive would have a full-on orgasm if he tasted some of these creations. Then Jacob leans across, and his lips cover mine with sexy, gentle kisses. I have to admit I’m coming pretty close to the edge myself.
Chapter Twenty-seven
NADIA, AS INSTRUCTED, HAD BANKED the check from Chantal first thing on Monday morning. She’d opened a separate account for the money, in her name only. Toby wouldn’t like that, but she’d yet to tell him about any of this. Which meant that she’d yet to disconnect the Internet from their computer, but she had organized for that to happen starting today. Chantal might think it was best to go in with both guns blazing, but she preferred the softly, softly approach—even though she’d have to admit that she’d probably been far too soft in the last few years. This gambling addiction would end— she would make sure of it—but she would try to do it with the minimum of pain.
Nadia had never imagined that the girls from the Chocolate Lovers’ Club would come through for her in the way they had. What had started out as a bit of fun for her and a shared interest in all things chocolaty had turned out to be a lifesaver. Now she didn’t know what she’d do without them. The relief that Chantal’s loan had given her was incalculable. It sounded like such a cliché, but she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her friend looked glamorous and aloof, but inside her there was a heart of solid gold. It was humbling to think that she hadn’t even hesitated in handing over her money to Nadia. Now she could pay off all of their bills and start with a fresh sheet again. This time, she would be in control of their finances. She was going to cut up all of their credit cards and deal in cash only. It was the only way they were going to get out of this terrible situation. All she had to do now was tell Toby.
She’d been flicking through the job ads in the paper this afternoon and there were plenty of positions she could apply for. Toby would go ballistic about that too, but they didn’t have any choice. Chantal was partly right, though—she was in no fit state to work. But it wasn’t her physical condition that was a problem, it was more an emotional issue. She hadn’t worked in over three years and her self-esteem was in a fairly bad place. If she didn’t address that now, then she wouldn’t have the guts to get back into the workforce. The only proper adult conversation she got these days was with the girls and—on rare occasions—with Toby. All her other chitchat was with a person under three feet tall. Her social circle had grown woefully small since she’d become a stay-at-home mum.
She was going to keep a few grand back from Chantal’s money to help with child care for the first month or so—and it would be fantastic if Autumn really could help her out. Though her friend didn’t quite seem her usual upbeat self at the moment. Nadia hoped that she wasn’t struggling with a problem alone, as she had. There was never a truer proverb than “a problem shared is a problem halved.” As soon as she was sorted out she would make sure to find time to help Autumn with whatever it was that was bothering her.
Toby was due in from work soon and she’d already bathed Lewis and put him in his pajamas, so that his daddy could take him straight to bed while she made dinner. Maybe she was a bad mother, but she’d bribed him with a handful of chocolate fingers into getting ready for bed early. It felt good to be able to go to the supermarket, queuing up at the checkout, knowing that there was money coming into the account.
Tonight she’d made an Indian dish that was one of Toby’s favorites— murghi rasedar, chicken in a delicious fried onion sauce. It was one of her mother’s recipes, what she called her “everyday” chicken. Nadia had bought the poultry and the fresh herbs and spices she needed. She wanted him in a good mood before she started telling him the news that his gambling days were numbered.
When he came through the door, he kissed her warmly. Every now and then there were glimpses of the old Toby with whom she’d fallen in love. He was still in there somewhere—she only hoped she could reach him before it was too late. They’d met when Toby was fitting a new bathroom in her friend’s house—not the most romantic of starts but that didn’t mean they’d loved each other any less. Despite all of her family’s opposition, she’d chosen Toby over them. There was no way she was going to give up on him lightly. She hoped that he’d feel the same way about her.
Toby swung Lewis up into his arms. “Who’s Daddy’s best boy?”
“I am,” Lewis said proudly. “Today I drew a picture of an angel with a blue heart.”
“For me?”
Lewis raced off to show Toby his handiwork. Nadia had been given a viewing when she’d picked her son up from nursery school. Then she’d been told it was a horsey. It looked like neither. She hoped that Lewis would develop talents in other areas, as his grasp of celestial beings or the equine form seemed to have a few shortcomings.
“Do you want to read Lewis a story and put him to bed?” she asked.
“Yeaaaaaaaah!” Lewis shouted.
“Do I have any choice?” Toby said with a laugh.
It was good to see that he was in a mellow mood tonight. “I’ll finish making dinner,” she said. “Don’t be long.”
“Race you to bed, Tiger,” Toby challenged his son. “Last one there’s a sissy!”
They charged up the stairs with Lewis shouting, “Sissy. Sissy. Sissy.”
She should really remind Toby that this was supposed to be quiet time; a calm routine before going to bed. Nadia smiled to herself. Toby really was a great dad in a lot of ways. Maybe if they started to go out on more family days then he’d find it easier to quit the online casinos that currently had him in their thrall.
AFTER THEY’D EATEN, NADIA CLEARED the plates away and they sat at the table together enjoying a cup
of coffee.
“Lewis loves it when you’re home in time to tuck him in bed,” she told Toby.
“He’s a great kid,” Toby said. “Even though I’m biased.”
“He is,” Nadia said. “And I want us to work together to start making his future secure.”
Toby’s face darkened. “If this is about my gambling …”
“It is, Toby. I’ve given up a lot to be with you.” The love and affection of her family being at the top of the list. A great job coming a close second. On some days it seemed as if her sanity had gone too. “I won’t stand by while you squander what we’ve got. I’m putting plans in place to get us clear of all these debts. I’ve taken a loan.” Her husband didn’t need to know that it had come from her friend Chantal. “We can clear everything and start over.”
Toby went to protest, but she cut him off “I’m clearing the debts. I’ve organized someone to look after Lewis while I go back to work. Autumn is going to help us out.” Her husband sat there with his mouth wide open, a startled look on his handsome face. “I want you to help me, Toby. It’s not worth me doing all this if you carry on throwing our money away on blackjack and roulette and whatever else you do online.”
Still he said nothing. She took a deep breath. “I disconnected the Internet connection today, so you won’t be able to go online at home.”
Toby blinked rapidly.
“And I’m going to cut up all our credit cards, so that we can’t start running up debts again. If you want me and Lewis to stay around then you have to agree to get help. There are organizations that can help you and I want to help you.”
When she finished what she needed to say, she looked up to see that her husband was crying silently. Nadia went to the other side of the table and put her arms around him.
“I’m sorry,” Toby wept. “I’m so sorry.”
“We’ll get through this,” she said softly. “We’ll get through this together.”