Picnics in Hyde Park

by Nikki Moore

  Since then she’d used the BMW, or tried to, almost every day despite the London traffic and everything being basically within walking distance. She loved how smooth and responsive it was, the high gloss interior effortlessly modern and cool.

  However, Matt constantly blocking her in was driving her insane. How he managed it she didn’t know, but the total disregard it showed and the level of inconvenience wound her up. He was here all the time too, he never seemed to go into the City any more.

  The first time he’d blocked her in, she’d gone to his office and very politely asked him to move his car.

  ‘Sorry, haven’t got time,’ he’d grunted over his shoulder, not even turning from his Mac screen to look at her.

  ‘Please, Matt?’

  ‘I said, I haven’t got time,’ he ground out, yanking a hand through his hair. His desk was even more chaotic than usual, balled up pieces of paper littering the floor and discordant music playing on the Mac. ‘Do you mind leaving me to it? I’m in the middle of something. I’m sure you can walk if you want to go out.’

  Just as quickly she was dismissed from his thoughts. It was a replay of his behaviour on the day he’d interviewed her and she wondered if Sadie’s continued absence for an extra two weeks was taking its toll on him. It wasn’t often he was snappy, but when he was, he was a pro.

  In the interest of keeping the peace and because both Jasper and Aimee had been standing in the hallway behind her, she’d backed out. ‘No probs, sorry to disturb you.’ Smiling easily as if it wasn’t a problem, she’d motioned to the children to follow her. ‘Come on, your dad can’t move the car at the moment, we’ll walk down to the park instead, or do you want to take the bus somewhere?’

  When it came to the parking situation, he just wasn’t thinking, she decided, and he was incredibly stressed and busy. But now that it’d happened two other times with similar results and she’d geared the children’s expectations up for a day trip, she’d had enough. No matter what he tried to say or do today, he was moving his damned car.

  Leaving the children waiting patiently in the front hallway with promises of seeing monkeys if they didn’t behave like ones while she was gone, she hurried down the basement stairs and rapped on the studio door.

  Nothing. No answer.

  She swore under her breath and knocked again.

  Silence.

  Curling her hand into a fist, she used the side of it to bang, bang, bang on the door.

  Still nothing.

  A flash of memory shook her, the action reminding her of knocking on the door of Matt’s home nearly a month ago. If she’d known then what she would end up doing in the name of revenge, how much it was costing her when she was falling a little more in love with Matt’s kids every day, would she have carried on knocking or walked away?

  She wasn’t sure any more.

  Sick of waiting for an answer that might never come, she grabbed the door handle and thrust the door open, almost falling into the room.

  Matt swung around in a chair set in front of a darkened large plate window, his hands on a massive soundboard filled with buttons and sliding switches. ‘When people don’t answer the door,’ he hit a switch to cut the music, a nerve ticking in his jaw, eyes flashing, ‘it’s usually because they don’t want to be disturbed.’

  ‘When people don’t answer the door,’ she shot back ‘and when they speak to people the way you just spoke to me, it’s because they’re rude and ignorant.’

  ‘Pardon?’ He jerked out of his seat, the chair shooting back and hitting the desk with a heavy bang that made her jump.

  Replaying what she’d said to him, she crossed her arms over her chest. The air con set into the low ceiling sent goose bumps over her skin and she fleetingly regretted the belly-grazing white vest top she wore with an Indian patterned ankle-length summer skirt. ‘Crap. I’m sorry, Matt,’ she shivered, ‘I didn’t mean that the way it came out, but if we’re too noisy for you or you don’t want to be disturbed, then maybe you should go and work in your off-site premises? I also understand that you’re under pressure at the moment but the only reason I keep disturbing you during the day is because you keep parking the Prius across the driveway and blocking me in. All I’m asking for is a little consideration…’ she trailed off at the expression in his green eyes, noticing the dark stubble edging his jaw, much thicker than usual. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

  ‘Why do you care?’ he demanded irritably.

  Taking a step back, her spine hit the doorframe and she winced. Had he found out who she was related to, and why she was here? Was that why he seemed so cross? But if that was the case surely he would just come out with it.

  ‘I care about anything that affects the children,’ she replied, ‘which includes you. Unfortunately.’

  ‘Unfortunately?’ he glowered. ‘Oh, that’s charming.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry but you’re not being very nice at the moment.’

  He went to answer, paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. I’m not. I’m sorry.’ He went quiet again, jaw clenching and unclenching as he inhaled and exhaled.

  Zoe regarded his still pose, wondering if he was trying out some new-age Zen exercise. He looked pale, with crescent shadows under his eyes like he wasn’t getting much sleep. With his broken nose and the scar above his lip, he was more bad boy and dangerous than ever. It was a look that worked entirely too well for him, and which caused an entirely unwanted reaction inside her. Knees feeling floaty, a familiar tingle of lust pinged between her thighs, heat sweeping in a slow burn through her body. Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms. She was glad the door was propping her up and pinning her to reality because she desperately wanted to launch across the room and kiss him until it hurt them both. Wanted to have the kind of hot, angry sex that came with making up after an argument. The biting, clawing, sweaty kind that left you breathless, satisfied and purged of frustration. It was wrong to want it with him, but she couldn’t control her thoughts, and her body was as traitorous as her imagination.

  She moved forward to stand under the air con, hoping the stream of cold air would cool her raging hormones. ‘Maybe you need to slow down, take a break?’ she suggested into the taut silence. ‘Sometimes when you’re too close to something it makes it harder to see clearly. Feeling wound up can also make you less productive. I take it work isn’t going well?’

  Opening his eyes and letting out a harsh laugh, he returned to his seat, stretching out his long muscular legs and staring at the ceiling. ‘You could say that. But it’s not just that.’

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not really.’

  There was another drawn out silence, the bristling kind that set her nerves on edge.

  ‘Right, fine,’ she said finally, frustration edging her voice as she thought about the eager children upstairs waiting for their fun day out, ‘still, having stuff on your mind doesn’t stop you parking considerately. If you’re not going to talk to me, Matt, can you at least just come and move your bloody car?’

  At his continued silence, she shook her head, swung around and thundered up the stairs.

  The exasperation in Zoe’s tone as she blazed from the room made it clear to Matt that she was mightily pissed off. He couldn’t really blame her; she had every reason to be. He knew he’d been rude lately, as well as distracted. He was trying to do as she’d asked by joining them for dinner and tucking the kids up in bed a few times a week but kept slipping back into bad habits. He had a natural tendency to withdraw into himself when he was working, and had to stop himself from resenting every small interruption and biting people’s heads off when they needed something.

  It didn’t help that the new female vocalist he was working with was still completely off-piste both vocally and emotionally. There was no way they were going to meet the deadline he’d set to cut her debut album if things carried on like this. The delay frustrated the hell out of him, made him twitchy an
d anxious. Something about the girl’s fragile manner told him they needed to keep the momentum going or it might never happen. And she was capable of platinum albums and sell-out tours, he knew it.

  He’d already started popping antacids like sweets and at times could feel himself shaking with sleep deprivation, catching only a few hours rest a night.

  It also didn’t help that Stephen had gone AWOL, not answering the satellite phone or radio aboard their yacht, which had last been reported as anchored up in a rocky Corfu port. There was probably nothing to worry about, it was in character for his brother to fall out of touch for days or weeks at a time, but Matt couldn’t help feeling uneasy anyway. He’d give it a few more days then start contacting Stephen’s international friends and likely places he’d moor up, before approaching the appropriate coastguards if necessary.

  There was something else nagging at him too. Talking to Zoe about Melody had made him wonder once again if his old nanny was all right. He’d felt like a bit of a bastard firing and then chucking her out, but after what Stephen had told him, he’d had no choice and tried to comfort himself that he was one hundred per cent justified in his actions. She was just lucky he hadn’t done worse. Still, it didn’t stop him feeling a sense of responsibility towards her and hoping she wasn’t living in a cardboard box somewhere. On the other hand, girls like her always landed on their feet.

  As for Zoe, she was one of his biggest problems at the moment, and a definite contributor to his bad mood. She worried at him like a nippy terrier with a bone, insisting he do things differently for the children, challenging him to be a better dad, but what he’d said the other day when he hugged her was true. She was making the children happy and he couldn’t fault her for that. The problem was, the living situation was making him ratty. He could think of little else but her. His concentration was shot. The way she smiled with that lovely pink mouth, the shine of her glossy black hair, the warmth of her voice when she spoke to the kids, her big baby blues when she fronted up to him, the compassion in her face when she mentioned Helen, the incredible body underneath clothes that he ached to rip off…It was distracting and unnerving and his physical frustration was spilling over into everything else, amplifying his shitty behaviour. Which included being a royal pain in the arse towards Zoe. Take the car thing. Would it really be so difficult to park at a different angle, or move the cars around when he got home? He sat up, blinking. Was blocking her in a way of keeping her close, or annoying her so she’d confront him? Had he subconsciously been trying to get her attention?

  No, that was ridiculous. He wasn’t interested in getting involved. His late wife had taught him that emotions tied you down, restricted your choices. Put you at someone else’s mercy. Three years after her death Helen still had a hold on him and he didn’t know how to break free. There was no chance he was interested in falling under another woman’s spell.

  One side of him longed for Zoe to quit just so he could have his peace of mind back. The other side wanted her to stay and share her good heart and generous spirit with him and his children. To continue teaching them to be more loving and open than he was capable of nowadays. To show them that independence and individuality should be encouraged, just like he did with his artists, nurturing and helping them to grow as people. He frowned. If he could do it for them, why wasn’t he doing the same for his children? That wasn’t right. What was holding him back? Fear, or the ever present black guilt? Zoe had said he should think about why he’d distanced himself from Aimee and Jasper, and he wasn’t quite there yet, but like a window blind being raised to let in the daylight, Matt suddenly knew what he had to do. Grabbing his phone off the side, he flew up the stairs after Zoe.

  As she reached the top of the basement stairs and arrived in the ground floor hallway, Zoe was muttering under her breath at Matt’s stubborn behaviour. The children stood up from their spot on the bottom of the spiral staircase.

  ‘Can we go on safari now please, Zoe?’ Jasper asked excitedly, skipping up and down on the spot. ‘I weally want to see the monkeys.’

  An automatic grumble about ‘your dad’ sprung to her lips but she held it back. It wasn’t fair to involve them in her and Matt’s bickering. God, they were like an old married couple.

  Where had that come from?

  Nope. No way. Imagine being tied to a bloke who was light-hearted and funny one minute, and distant and infuriating the next. Talk about unsettling. Or exciting, a little voice whispered. She shook her head firmly to dispel the silly thoughts. It was just hormones, with Matt being such fabulous eye candy. Any woman passing him in the street would take in the height, the built body and that roughly hewn face and think the same.

  Aimee interrupted her inner ramblings, tucking a stray bit of red hair into her ponytail where it had slipped free. ‘Daddy won’t move his car, will he?’ she asked softly, eyes full of disappointment. ‘I bet he’s too busy.’

  Damn him. Both children had been looking forward to this so much. She played the logistics in her head. A bus or taxi to the station, a train journey to Wiltshire, a taxi on the other end. It might be expensive but Matt was rich enough to bear the cost. That wouldn’t make up for the increased travel time though, and it was already gone nine in the morning. Going by train rather than car was going to cost them a couple of hours at least, cutting into the day she’d planned.

  She noticed Jasper’s eyes welling up and realised she hadn’t answered Aimee’s question.

  Her back went ramrod straight and a wave of irritation swept over her. No. This wasn’t happening. She wasn’t letting Matt upset his children because he was having problems at work and whatever else it was he’d alluded to.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she told them, pawing through the bowl on the side table to locate Matt’s Prius keys and stuffing them in her bag, ‘we’re going to Longleat. If he hasn’t got time to move his car we can do it for him, or use it ourselves. He can always drive the P1 if he needs to go out.’

  She grabbed her bag and the picnic hamper she’d packed early that morning before the temperature had started climbing. Running a critical eye over the kids, who were both dressed in baggy light t-shirts and shorts, she cocked her head. ‘Did you both put sun cream on after you washed, like I asked?’

  ‘Yes,’ Aimee said, ‘and I helped Jasper with his, and put the bottle in the hamper like you said to. Our hats are in my backpack.’ Turning around to indicate the ‘I Love Books’ bag perched on her shoulder.

  ‘Thank you, good girl. Right, let’s go.’

  Throwing open the door she ambled down the front stairs onto the driveway, the gravel crunching under her Greek style sandals. The Prius opened with keyless entry when she touched her hand to door handle, detecting that the fob was in her bag. Cars sure were smart things nowadays. Sometimes smarter than people? she wondered.

  ‘Daddy won’t like this,’ Aimee told her.

  ‘Oh, well, I’m sure there are lots of things that he—’ she broke off. It wasn’t fair to badmouth Matt to the children. It wasn’t professional of her or helpful to their self-esteem. She was better than this. She smiled brightly, her black hair swinging in her face. Reaching up, she tied it into a knot at her nape. ‘Aimee, it will be fine. Come on, get in.’ She couldn’t be bothered to mess around moving the cars, and would be covered for an accident through the fully comp car insurance Matt had taken out for her on the BMW.

  Aimee shrugged her shoulders and clambered into the back whilst Zoe loaded up the boot and took Jasper around to the other side, buckling him into the booster seat while he chattered on about lions and hippos.

  He turned to his big sister as Zoe slipped behind the wheel. ‘Daddy is going to kill her,’ he said in a matter of fact tone tinged with awe.

  ‘Yes, she’s very brave,’ Aimee agreed.

  Zoe looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at them playfully, grabbing the door handle. Pulling on it, she met with resistance. ‘Huh?’ She switched her attention to her arm, and found Matt stood in the
space between the car and the door, jamming it open.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Matt demanded, a firm hand grabbing her upper arm and pulling her from the car.

  ‘Ouch!’ she yelped, unbalanced as he tugged on her arm again, sandals slipping on the gravel. She fell up against his solid chest, gripping his belt to remain upright. His lips brushed her earlobe, the touch making her body do funny, trembly things.

  Her mouth opened in shock. ‘Matt—’ she squeaked as big masculine hands settled around her waist to steady her, their heat burning through the material of her top, a couple of fingers grazing her bare tummy.

  He was strangely pale, his cheekbones standing out starkly. ‘I said, what do you think you’re doing?’

  She tried to shake his hands off without success. ‘What am I doing? I was just going to borrow your car. What are you doing? Are you crazy? Let go of me, please.’

  He gritted his teeth and started answering but glanced at Aimee and Jasper in the back of the car. Jasper had unclipped himself and thrown himself across his sister’s lap, little nose pressed up against the window so that he could watch the action.

  ‘Aimee, can you take your brother into the house please? I need to talk to Zoe.’

  His daughter nodded, exiting the car through the opposite door and leading her brother up the steps by the hand. ‘But I want to go to Longleat,’ Jasper’s plaintive voice carried across the drive as he waved his free arm around expressively.

  ‘Shhh,’ Aimee murmured, pushing open the front door, ‘let’s go in and play. Just be patient.’

  As soon as they were safely inside, Matt towed Zoe over to the front of the house near the garage doors. ‘We don’t need to stand in the middle of the driveway in plain sight for this conversation.’

  When they stopped, Zoe took a step back at the look on his face. It wasn’t just anger, it was fear and something else she couldn’t read. Talk about an overreaction. ‘Matt, what is it? I don’t understand. You wouldn’t move the Prius and I promised the kids I’d take them to Longleat so I didn’t think there was any harm in using it. If I’d thought you’d mind I would have asked.’