Romancing the Rough Diamond

by Clare London

  “I had. We had. I just got the wrong guy. What’s more, I knew it, even as I went at him.” He should have been angry at Teresa, talking to him so personally, drawing out the deepest vulnerabilities of his life. He should be used to being alone.

  “Let’s talk it all through, Joel, decide what to do next. Addam and I will join you for a drink.”

  “You’d better be paying,” Addam grumbled. “Took me long enough to track you down. I’ve had to contact too many exes in London hotels for my liking.”

  “No need. I don’t want you—”

  “What you want, Joel Sterling, you can’t have right at this moment,” Teresa interrupted, showing an uncharacteristic sharpness. She waved to the bartender to order drinks for them all. “I damn well hope they do a good margarita here!”

  “They do,” Joel said. He’d had three already. “You see, I was wrong. So wrong.”

  Addam sighed. “Yeah. We know. We’ve just got to work out how to salvage this sorry mess.”

  “I don’t mean about losing my rag in the shop,” Joel insisted. He was sure he was still coherent. Weren’t they listening?

  “No,” Teresa said, a long-suffering sigh in her voice. “Believe me, we know that too. This isn’t about the mangled teddy bear, Joel. This isn’t even about your recent foray into the world of video stardom. We know you really mean you were wrong to accuse Matt of treachery.”

  “I….” Yes. I was. Why deny it?

  “You were wrong to lay into him like that, calling him disloyal, ignoring the work he’s put into this project, the effort he’s made to be part of the team, despite not knowing any of us before now. You were wrong to humiliate him in front of us all. You were wrong not to look for any real evidence first.”

  “Jesus,” Addam muttered in the background, rolling his eyes. “Don’t sugarcoat it now, dear.”

  “And what’s more,” Teresa continued, her voice getting so loud that two girls in the booth behind them had paused their conversation and turned to stare at the group, “you were wrong to mess up what was looking to be the finest boyfriend you’re ever gonna get!”

  The girls gasped and snickered. Joel felt the punch of grief all over again.

  Addam bit off his own laugh and winked at the girls, who blushed and turned back to their own business.

  “Anyway.” Teresa was still talking, while whisking her margarita with a swizzle stick so fiercely she might have been a witch at her pot in the opening scene of Macbeth. “We need to put our heads together on this. There was something Matt said as he was leaving Starsmith.”

  Joel’s attention came back to order. “You spoke to him? Was he on his way home to Norfolk?” Well, why wouldn’t he be? The project was over. Joel was amazed the palace hadn’t been in touch already, though maybe the private secretaries weren’t as internet-savvy as the teenagers who were trending his video, even as the star performer sat here in the bar drinking the night away.

  “Listen.” Teresa’s voice was stern. “He said the designs on that teddy weren’t the very latest, the ones we’ve updated. You know, that last-minute move of the diamonds to the tip of the spokes, rather than on the base.”

  Joel sighed. A minor comfort, but he’d take anything at this stage. “So maybe they’ll accept my apology and resignation but agree to wait for the final portfolio—”

  “No. I mean, whoever leaked the design did so from the early drawings.”

  Joel stared at her. So did Addam.

  “For God’s sake, you look like matching bookends. Did you think we’d get out of this mess without finding who the real culprit was? If we can discover that, we can deal with it, then try and square things with the palace.”

  “And Matt,” Addam said softly, his eyes on Joel. “But there’s only been the design team involved.”

  “And me, of course,” Teresa said, a little more hesitantly.

  Joel caught Addam’s gaze; they both rolled their eyes this time.

  “Yes, but that’s the point,” she urged. “We have to examine every single person who had access to the plans. I mean, when the commission was publicly announced, everyone in the company got to know about it. But before then, when we were first making plans….”

  “It was a small, exclusive team. Of course.” Addam nodded. “Design, production, graphic art, it all went through us.”

  “We kept IT informed, to some extent,” Joel added. “HR, finance.”

  “But none of those saw the recent designs,” Teresa said.

  “Marketing,” Addam continued, then stopped. There was a sudden, shocked silence.

  “Lily and Freddie were involved in the beginning,” Joel said slowly. “Then I decided to keep them out of the later meetings, as we started to develop the design. They only needed to know the rough outline, to start preliminary discussions with—”

  “Manufacturers,” Addam concluded. “Freddie, goddammit!” He physically jerked back when both Joel and Teresa rounded on him. “Remember how he was hanging around, trying to get in on the later meetings?”

  “He was always asking me for updates.” Teresa nodded, wide-eyed. “I told you marketing was impatient, Joel, remember?”

  “But he couldn’t have done that to us.” Joel’s head was spinning. “He’s been with Starsmith for years. He and Lily were here before I joined.”

  “We should call him in,” Addam said, reaching for his phone.

  “Wait!” Teresa gasped. “He went on holiday this morning! Lily came to tell me he hadn’t turned up for work and he wouldn’t be around for a week or so. She looked surprised by it, as if he hadn’t told her his plans, when I thought they were more or less joined at the hip.”

  “He couldn’t have known I’d see that teddy bear today.”

  “But you would have, sooner or later. Dammit, there are plenty of those souvenir outlets around the corner in Regent Street. I pass them on the way home every night. If he knew the design was hitting the shops any day now….”

  “I must talk to him.” Joel shifted on his seat. “Find out for certain. Take the appropriate action.”

  Addam’s hand on his arm stopped him moving off. “The appropriate action is for you to get home tonight and rest. You can deal with this tomorrow. Wherever Freddie is, it’ll wait until then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  IN the early hours of the next day, even though it was Saturday and few other staff were in the Starsmith building, there was a private and painful meeting. In the company of Starsmith’s HR manager and Freddie’s colleague and friend Lily, Joel confronted Freddie Winchester.

  Teresa had alerted Starsmith’s head of security department the night before, as she left Claridge’s with Joel and Addam, which led to a late-night scene at Heathrow Airport worthy of a Jason Bourne thriller. A team of company officers, with Lily in tow, intercepted Freddie on his way to the departure gate for an overnight flight to Switzerland. He insisted he was just taking advantage of a last-minute opportunity for a skiing holiday, but his shock and exaggerated protest told a very different story. Lily, in intermittent floods of tears, had scolded and argued with him until he agreed to come back home with her and meet Joel in the morning.

  Freddie now confessed to Joel that he’d been stupid, though he’d never meant to cause deliberate damage to the company. He’d met a handsome, very persuasive young man at one of the trade events, had too much to drink, and boasted about the royal commission. Most people in the industry knew what Starsmith was working on, but Freddie had gone one step further and scribbled a picture of the crown on a paper napkin. “It was just a bit of fun!” he protested. “I thought it had been thrown in the rubbish bin.”

  It hadn’t, of course. The persuasive young man turned out to be a trainee salesman at another competitor—not Marchant’s, Joel was actually pleased to hear—with far less scruples than most members of the industry. Their recent jewelry profits were on the wane, and they took a chance on benefiting from someone else’s design. They’d hoped to use Freddie as an
ongoing mole at Starsmith, but when Freddie was kept out of the Project Palace loop, the competitor decided to go ahead with the early sketch they already had. The drawing was passed to their manufacturers, and the souvenirs were on the production line within the day.

  “Why did you try and run, Freddie?” Joel asked. “You could have come to me. Explained what happened.” Though he couldn’t see things turning out any differently.

  “You could have come to me too,” Lily snapped. “You never said a bloody word!” Red-eyed from lack of sleep and shedding plenty of angry tears for her best friend, she’d still been furious with him.

  “I saw the design in a catalog on Thursday,” Freddie confessed miserably. The marketing department received a flood of trade magazines on a daily basis. “Just panicked. I guessed the shit was about to hit the fan, and I didn’t want to be here for any interrogations in the office.” He looked between Joel and Lily and winced. “I guess I—”

  “—you better damn well admit it—” Lily burst out.

  “—messed that up too,” he finished glumly.

  JOEL was irritated to find Teresa in his office when he trudged back there after the meeting, but it was because he hadn’t wanted anyone else to give up their weekend for such a miserable, dispiriting situation. But when she gave him a hug and produced a mug of steaming hot latte—his favorite—he had to admit how glad he was to see her.

  “He’s been fired?”

  “Of course he bloody has.” Joel scowled. It was never an easy thing to discover you’d been let down by someone you thought you could trust. “Stupid young man. Lily’s devastated too. She knew nothing about it. Her job is secure, though I don’t know if she’ll want to go on working here without him, let alone under the cloud he’s cast over the company.”

  “Will you press any charges?”

  Joel looked up at her wearily, from where he sat behind his cleared desk. “I don’t see what that would achieve. His behavior was a breach of his contract, and he’s lost his job because of it. Plus we won’t give him any kind of a reference for his next placement. But he’s not broken any criminal laws, and if we take further action, it’ll draw attention to the fact we don’t have enough control over our employees.”

  “That’s harsh,” Teresa said. “I mean, harsh on you. You can’t control everyone, all the time. People make their own stupid decisions.”

  Joel had a feeling she wasn’t talking only about Freddie.

  Teresa sipped at her own coffee, studying him over the rim of the cup. “What will you do now? No, let me phrase it a different way. What do you want to do now?”

  “I want to see Matt,” Joel said. The words spilled from him, honest and heartfelt. “I want to see him, and apologize until I’m hoarse, and… maybe one day he’ll forgive me.”

  Teresa’s smile was small but happy. “Then do it!”

  “He’s not answering his phone. At least, not to me.”

  “No, he’s not answering me either.”

  “Teresa!”

  “Okay, okay, so I’m meddling in your business, I know.” But she didn’t look at all repentant. “I just thought he might be avoiding you, so I’d try another route. But it looks like his phone is dead or out of range. Or he’s not got it with him, wherever he is.”

  “I could go to Norfolk. Or at least call his cousin, see if Matt will talk to me.” Joel grimaced. “This damn business with Freddie has me tied up until later this afternoon. I have to update the Starsmith board of directors about the design leak. They’re bound to want to know what the palace thinks about it all, whether the commission is at risk.”

  “Any news from them?”

  “I’ve placed the request for a call with the prince’s private secretary, but they’ve not got back to me yet. The suspense is killing me, I don’t mind admitting.”

  “There’s an official banquet at Buckingham Palace this weekend,” Teresa said. She was an avid follower of the royal updates in all the newspapers. “They’re hosting leaders from several Commonwealth countries as part of the debate on global warming. Maybe the prince has been wrapped up in that.”

  Joel smiled bitterly. “Yes, I can imagine our tawdry little dramas aren’t number one priority, considering all the issues the Royal Family has to deal with worldwide. But I need to begin making things right.”

  “Don’t rush into anything, Joel.” Teresa’s tone was sympathetic. “Can you find out if Matt’s back at his father’s house or his cousin’s farm? Though, if you ask me, I think you should give him some more time to calm down—”

  “I daren’t.” Joel didn’t realize how loudly or fiercely he’d spoken until he saw Teresa flinch. “I’m sorry. I’m just so scared I’ve fucked things up for good.”

  Teresa blinked hard, and her expression softened. “My dear man, I never thought I’d hear you admit vulnerability like that. He really means the world to you, doesn’t he?”

  “I love him,” Joel said. How easy that had been, just to admit it aloud! And yet… to the wrong damned person.

  Teresa nodded. “Joel, may I be brutally honest? If you’ve realized what an idiot you were—Matt will know that too. He’s easily angered, easily passionate. He doesn’t suffer fools. We can all see that. But he’s also a very honest and intelligent man who gets over things quickly when he needs to. He’ll forgive you.”

  Joel smiled at her, a little sadly, and stood. “And on that note—what an idiot I’ve been—I have to go and check in with HR about Freddie’s termination process. But thank you. As soon as I get another free moment, I’ll try Matt’s family. Even if he won’t talk to me, at least I’ll know he’s okay. And then, in case the palace doesn’t get back to me any time soon, I’ll draft a letter to the prince.” Teresa looked unhappy. She’d told him not to be rash, but what was the point in waiting? It would only look as if he’d been trying to hide Starsmith’s guilt. “I’ll explain none of it was Matt’s fault. I don’t think it’ll affect his reputation. They liked him.”

  “Paolo Astra certainly liked him,” Teresa said with a wry grin. “I suspect that man was a bit of a player before the prince persuaded him to settle down.”

  “And why shouldn’t Paolo like Matt? Matt’s a bloody attractive, talented, charismatic young man.”

  “Like you, boss,” she said with a smile.

  Joel shrugged. “But unlike me, Matt’s been true to his principles. Relentlessly honest.”

  He wouldn’t have made the mistake I did.

  IT was nearly midnight before Joel gave up trying to sleep and got up from bed to make a hot drink. His flat, usually such a source of calm contentment to him, felt empty tonight. He kept imagining Matt in the living room, turning on the TV, reading a book, enthusing over a trade magazine. Grabbing Joel and kissing him, again and again. He remembered Matt’s laugh, Matt’s grudging amazement at the flat’s opulence, Matt’s unruly desire and the way they both stumbled into the bedroom, some nights, desperate for sex. But then also the mornings after, with quiet laughter over breakfast, light touches that had felt just as passionate, just as meaningful. Their talk about the dig and Roman treasures, their shared enthusiasm for Project Palace, and what wonders jewelry could uncover in the human heart. Nothing had ever felt as right as having someone with him at last, of having another man in his personal space, and so welcome.

  As long as that other man was Matt Barth.

  In the silence of his kitchen, Joel sighed and clicked off the kettle. Matt still wasn’t answering his phone, and Joel didn’t think there was any point in leaving another message. He didn’t want to say sorry from a distance, so his messages so far had been terse requests for Matt to call him back. Please. But was Matt so angry with Joel he’d break off any contact? He has every right to be. Yes, Joel told his inner conscience, but how the hell else am I meant to apologize and ask for a second chance?

  It was distressing how much it hurt, the thought that he might have destroyed any friendship, let alone anything more, with Matt.

 
Neither Gary nor Caro knew where Matt was—or they weren’t saying. However, Joel didn’t think they were being obstructive, because he’d spoken briefly to Caro, and she sounded worried Joel couldn’t reach Matt.

  “Let me know when you find him,” she’d said.

  “I’m not sure I’m the person—”

  “You’ll find him,” she said briskly. “Last we heard, he was going to sort things out.”

  “Where? With whom?” But Caro had no more clues for him.

  He sat in his kitchen while, outside, London started to wake up to another day, and sipped a fruit tea until it grew cold, ostensibly working on a presentation for a forthcoming trade awards ceremony, but one he knew he’d have to rewrite in the morning because he couldn’t concentrate on it now.

  Where was Matt?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  JOEL would never in a million years have guessed where Matt was.

  Because at some time just after midnight, Matt was stuck halfway over the railings surrounding Buckingham Palace, pinned to a couple of the metal spikes by the twisted loops of his own jeans, wondering if breaking and entering a royal palace was nowadays considered an act of treason. And if that still carried the death penalty.

  The night air was getting colder by the minute. London was a great city, and one that rarely sleeps, but Matt had tried to scale the railings in a quiet corner around the southeast side of the building, where there was no traffic access and pedestrians were few. He was in the shadows, away from streetlights. He was pretty much isolated. Ahead of him was the driveway to the main entrance, and behind him was a wooded area sheltering the splendid palace. But he couldn’t move either way.