Croissants and Jam

by Lynda Renham

  ‘I could have arranged for us to have had dinner there if I had known you enjoyed the casino,’ shouts Jack.

  I jump in my seat at the sudden sound of his voice.

  ‘To be quite honest with you, this is actually the first time I have ever been.’

  He covers his shock and grins excitedly.

  ‘You’ll love it. I’ll show you how to play the roulette table.’

  And so what I had intended to be a short evening did not end until almost three in the morning. The atmosphere of the casino is electric and I am swept along by the excitement almost immediately, and if Jack had seemed a little dull in the restaurant he certainly made up for it at the blackjack table. Clutching my chips, I move from one table to the next growing more confident with each chip I put down. When we become tired and hot, a lovely waitress fetches us a cold drink and some sandwiches. The roulette table has me hooked. When I am not playing I am an avid spectator. The smell of the place intoxicates me and the excited chatter of the gamblers makes me heady. I can’t imagine why I have never been before. At two thirty, having lost all our chips, we have a last drink before driving home. I am high on adrenalin and feel sure I will not sleep, but of course, the gentle movement of the car induces me to doze and before I know where I am Jack is waking me up. We are parked outside my flat and the clock says two forty-five. Jack leans towards me. I fumble quickly with the door handle and practically fall out.

  ‘Whoops,’ I laugh.

  I am at the front door before he has even climbed from the car.

  ‘Do you want to do something tomorrow, I mean tonight?’ he asks pushing his hands awkwardly into his jacket pockets.

  I swallow and fumble around in my head for a reply that won’t hurt him.

  ‘I would love to go out again but I think I will be very tired tonight. I don’t want you to think I am getting involved though Jack. It is much too soon for me.’

  I bite my lip. Oh dear, I was much too blunt. I wonder if he has heard me, for he replies.

  ‘Great, I’ll call you in a couple of days.’

  I blow him a kiss and go inside where I flop straight onto my bed and fall fast asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Finally, she comes into work.’

  I give Justin a dirty look and pour coffee from the cafeteria.

  ‘I have been working from home this morning,’ I lie.

  ‘You look like shit,’ he states none too kindly.

  ‘She was at a casino until two this morning,’ Kaz informs him as she carefully lays out the seating plan for the magazine’s celebrity fashion dinner.

  I scoff loudly. He ignores us both and looks closely at the plans.

  ‘Okay, this looks good. Has everyone confirmed?’

  I nod and Kaz shakes her head. I look questioningly at her.

  ‘Did you both miss the news?’ she asks disbelief on her face.

  I look to Justin who shrugs.

  ‘India Pilano, our main model?’

  We both raise our eyebrows. Kaz sighs.

  ‘She broke her leg in a skiing accident yesterday, so, unless you want her to model fashionable leg plasters, we are screwed.’

  I let out a little scream and stamp my foot.

  ‘She can’t have. She signed a contract with us which stated she was not to ski from the day she signed until the contract was up. I don’t believe this. She was the main feature for the show and she was booked to do the McQueen photo shoot. Everything is set for next week. This is terrible news. It took me six months to get that contract with her.’

  Justin chews his lip.

  ‘Get onto our lawyer, that’s the first thing. She has broken our contract, damn it.’

  Kaz picks up the phone.

  ‘We need a replacement,’ he says carefully, and I can see his mind working overtime. He looks thoughtful and I take the phone from Kaz.

  ‘Olivia Hammond! Get her and I will give you the best rise you have ever had. It seems she is retiring to have a baby and…’

  I drop the phone.

  ‘She’s having a baby?’ I echo.

  ‘God, Bels, where have you been?’ Kaz sighs.

  Olivia is having a baby? Does Christian know? For God’s sake, it seems like the whole bloody world knows except me. Oh God, was that why he phoned? Did he want to share the news? I should have known it had nothing to do with me.

  ‘But, if she is having a baby she isn’t likely to sign with us…’ I object.

  ‘Think about it Bels. She does her last shoot before retiring, and it’s with us and even better if you can get her to stand in at the celebrity dinner fashion show. You can do it, make it your goal before you go away. We can do the McQueen shoot anytime she wants. I only want the best.’

  He points a wagging finger and heads for the door.

  ‘And I want Olivia Hammond,’ he says bluntly and slams the door shut behind him.

  Kaz stares out of the window.

  ‘Jack really liked you then?’

  I lift my head to the ceiling. Oh why did India have to go sodding skiing?

  ‘Not really,’ I say absently.

  ‘Oh I think he did.’

  I give her an odd look. What is wrong with her?

  ‘What is wrong with you?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  There is a knock on the door and she rubs her hands with glee.

  ‘Oh he luuuuved you,’ she says opening the door.

  I gasp. Standing in the doorway is the largest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen. The young man delivering them lumbers in panting.

  ‘Miss Lewis?’ he breathes heavily.

  I mumble a yes.

  ‘That’s a relief. I don’t think I can carry this lot much longer. It weighs a bloody ton. I already went to the wrong department.’

  Kaz struggles to take them off him as I stare open-mouthed.

  ‘So, you don’t think he likes you,’ she laughs handing me a rose she had plucked.

  ‘Did someone die? Did I die? There is a hell of a lot of lilies here.’

  The delivery man shakes his head.

  ‘A man can never get it right can he?’

  My God, I will never have enough vases for all these flowers. I open my mouth to give a sharp retort, but nothing comes out.

  ‘I saw him wandering around with them earlier. I guessed they were for you. Can I have some?’ squeals Kaz.

  I take the card she offers and fall into a chair.

  ‘Thank you for a wonderful night, you are truly special. J. x

  Oh Jesus, a bit over the top or what? I look to Kaz who is making up her own little bouquet from my oversized one.

  ‘God, it is obscene. Can you put them into vases and spread them around the building or something? You had better phone the solicitor too, and if Jack should phone please tell him I am unavailable.’

  She salutes me with a grin and waltzes off with the bouquet over her shoulder. Damn, damn, Jack obviously was not listening to me last night. I dive in my bag for some aspirin and swallow them with more coffee. God, my head aches. Never again will I drink so much. I bury my head in my hands and think about Olivia Hammond. I didn’t admit to Justin that I had her personal mobile number. I decide it is much better if he does not know about that. I wait until my headache eases and then pull out India’s contract from my drawer. It is time to phone her agent and deliver the bad news. Twenty minutes later Kaz buzzes me.

  ‘Our legal people are in discussions with her legal people, do you want me to keep you updated?’ I hear the smile in her voice.

  ‘Yes and can you get Olivia Hammond’s people on the phone?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Oh, and Jack left a message while I was delivering flowers. He said he will call back.’

  I groan. At five o’clock Justin pops his head around my door.

  ‘Good God, did someone die? Are we a bloody florist now? I know you like flowers but isn’t this a bit over the top?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘I didn’t buy them
. It was a humongous bouquet from Jack, thanking me for last night.’

  His eyebrows rise.

  ‘Good Lord, what did you promise him? No, don’t answer that.’

  I pull my hair up and twist it into a scrunch.

  ‘I don’t intend to.’

  ‘So, what’s the news on Olivia Hammond?’

  ‘I’ve been trying her agent all afternoon. I have left three messages,’ responds Kaz, walking in with doughnuts. I grab one eagerly.

  ‘Let me know when the deal is signed.’

  Justin takes a doughnut and walks out. I let out a deep sigh.

  ‘Good God. What the hell…’ he shouts, making us both jump.

  ‘Ah,’ smiles Kaz.

  I give her a quizzical look.

  ‘Custard, Justin. They didn’t have any jam doughnuts,’ she yells.

  ‘I frigging hate custard,’ he moans loudly. We hear his office door slam shut and we both laugh hysterically.

  ‘I don’t like to mention it but shouldn’t you phone Jack and thank him or something,’ Kaz says casually as she bites into a doughnut, squeezing out a blob of custard which lands with a plop onto my desk.

  Bugger, this is getting tricky, very tricky.

  ‘God no, I need to think this through and if he phones, tell him I have my head down the loo.’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘You get paid to lie,’ I snap.

  ‘I do not,’ she snaps back, licking sugar from her lips.

  I grab a doughnut and sneeze. Jesus, there is more pollen in my office than in my dad’s garden.

  ‘Well, tell him I will phone him later,’ I sniff.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she demands. ‘The guy is loaded, he likes you and he seems really nice. Not many men would even think about buying flowers, let alone a bouquet like that. Trust me Bels; there aren’t that many nice rich eligible bachelors out there.’

  She flounces to the door, taking the doughnuts with her.

  ‘Please, don’t nag me. I have enough of that from my mother,’ I say miserably.

  She stretches her arms behind her back and moves into a yoga posture.

  ‘You are so stressful to be around. I need to go and meditate,’ she says huffily and walks out.

  I throw all the plans for the celebrity dinner into my handbag and turn off my laptop. Neither the coffee nor the doughnuts have taken away my headache. I decide, a quiet night, in front of the television is what is needed. To be precise, a quiet night, watching Christian on television, is what is needed. My intercom buzzes and I bark into it. It is Justin.

  ‘Christ, what did I do?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Get your arse in here can you. I want to go over a couple of things before you go home.’

  I come out twenty minutes later. Kaz is painting her nails and I tut loudly. I look past her to the empty doughnut plate that sits on her desk.

  ‘What? I’ve done loads for you today and all you’ve done is snap my head off,’ she complains. ‘By the way, Jack phoned your Blackberry and seeing as you weren’t going to say anything, I did.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Don’t have an epileptic fit. I only said you loved the flowers and would phone him later, probably. God forbid you just might.’

  I sigh.

  ‘Okay, I guess I should text him or something.’

  She jumps off the desk grabbing her bag.

  ‘You haven’t forgotten my lingerie party tomorrow night have you? I am relying on you to bring the pizzas.’

  Shit, shit and double shit. It has been all of ten days since she mentioned this party and I totally forgot about it. I must have let out a small moan as she looks at me despairingly.

  ‘Don’t say you forgot? You are going to come, aren’t you? I only said I would have it because you told me you were depressed. I thought it might cheer you up.’

  Damn, damn and double damn.

  ‘It is only lingerie isn’t it? There won’t be vibrators and wind-up plastic penises will there?’ I say pulling a face.

  ‘Good God, penises? I feel sick, pass your handbag. Of course not. We’re having pizza. What a horrible thought, pizza and penises.’ She sticks her tongue out. ‘Anyway, the Ann Summers party I went to didn’t have any penises.’

  ‘Okay, maybe I will bring Mother with me, she likes lingerie.’

  I kiss her on the cheek and walk down the corridor to Justin’s office. He is on the phone so I pop my head round the door and wave. The thought of my cosy flat and the Christian programme is very appealing, and I push all thought of work from my mind. I check the time on my Blackberry and wonder when Christian will call. I arrive home to three messages from Jack. With a sigh I delete them and quickly send him a text saying I will call him in a few days as I have gone down with a rotten cold. He sends a lovely text back saying he hopes I feel better very soon and that he will phone me in a few days and not to worry. I grab a yogurt from the fridge and settle down to watch Christian. The sight of him has me trembling so much that I need to take three Quiet Life tablets with some Rescue Remedy. I had almost forgotten how handsome he is. I hold my breath throughout the programme, expecting at any minute to see Claudine. Much to my relief she is not mentioned and I let out a deep breath as the programme finishes. I rewind the recording ready to watch again and then prepare myself some beans on toast. I check my Blackberry in case I missed his call but there is nothing. A half-opened bottle of wine sits on the kitchen counter and I pour the contents into a large glass. I am much calmer during the second viewing and find myself staring at Christian like a lovesick teenager. Oh God, please don’t let him marry Claudine, I pray desperately, while searching on Google for any news that may indicate he already has. After an hour of fruitless searching I close the lid. Five times I attempt to phone him but hang up before it rings. Surely if he wanted to speak to me he would have phoned by now. Twenty minutes later with a false sense of security helpfully induced by my alcohol intake I tap into my mobile Olivia’s number and listen to the long international ring tone.

  ‘Hi, this is Olivia. Sorry I can’t take your call. Leave a message and I will call you back as soon as possible.’

  Damn. I leave a short message and my home number and hope she remembers me as the nutty woman who came to visit with Christian. I click off my phone, yawn and head for the bedroom when the phone rings. Hesitantly, I answer and Olivia’s bright cheery voice wakes me right up.

  ‘Annabel, thank goodness you phoned. I lost your phone number. Christian phoned and told us everything and said that your wedding had been cancelled…’

  ‘I cancelled it,’ I break in quickly. ‘I found out that my fiancé is Christian’s brother. It is an awful mess and I haven’t seen Christian since. Is he okay, do you know?’

  Oh God, why did I ask that? What if she tells me he is fine and just about to be married to Claudine? She does not speak but I can hear her breathing. Oh dear she cannot tell me.

  ‘Oh no, you were engaged to his brother? We haven’t seen Christian,’ she says finally. ‘He phoned here several weeks ago now, it was a few days after you left and he said that you had cancelled your wedding, that everything was a bit crazy and he was going back to New York. He never mentioned his brother. Oh poor you and I know how much you liked Christian.’

  I breathe a sigh of relief. He isn’t married, at least not yet.

  ‘So, you haven’t been invited to his wedding then?’ I bravely ask.

  ‘No, we haven’t heard anything about that. Anyway, tell me about you?’

  So I do and after another half glass of wine I am brave enough to tell her I am features editor with Versity and several sips of wine later I ask her if she would replace India at our celebrity fashion dinner. To my glee she agrees and offers to fly to England the day after tomorrow to do the McQueen shoot before her pregnancy shows too much. I insist on collecting her at the airport and we finally say our goodbyes. I finally retire to bed feeling more miserable than I ever thought possible. I have to face
it. Christian has no intention of phoning me. Surely he isn’t waiting for me to phone him. Just who does he think he is? I have some consideration for Simon, even if he doesn’t. God, men, they are so bloody arrogant sometimes.

  Christian

  The meeting seems to be going on forever and my mind is drifting away. I yawn, pour myself more coffee and then open the window. The smog of New York hits my nostrils and I feel myself sigh. Why Claudine is so insistent on living here is beyond me. It is frighteningly mad, often depressing and without doubt claustrophobic.

  ‘How about these interviews Chris, do you want us to agree to all of them, or do you want to limit yourself?’

  I turn to Matt, my PA and shrug.

  ‘Sorry Matt, I wasn’t listening.’

  He grins.

  ‘Marriage is changing you already, and you’re only at the planning stage.’

  I give an evil laugh.

  ‘I’m the spanner in the works mate. Everything she arranges I put an obstacle in the way. Or at least so she tells me. Anyway, what interviews?’

  ‘I’ve managed to organise the Munich trip around that weekend you’re in Europe, is that okay?’

  I sit back at the table and force my mind back to work and nod at the appropriate moments but annoyingly I find myself checking my phone. I guess she must be pretty serious about this Jack guy then. Or at least he sounds pretty keen on her. She certainly isn’t going to phone now. I check the time for England and see it is almost one in the morning. I really ought not to phone again. What would be the point? I really didn’t see her as the type to be that impressed with an over-the-top bouquet of flowers. It just goes to show. Women, they are all pretty much the same. I suppose I should have corrected Bels’ assistant’s mistake when I phoned earlier but it was near impossible to get a word in. Besides if she mistook me for the Jack guy it was probably best to leave it at that. The last thing I want to do is mess up any new relationship Bels has. It would have been nice to have explained about the lawsuit. I wish I knew what the hell he had told her about that. Surely she would understand why I need to do it. I have a right to what is morally mine. I can’t just let them get away with that. Damn it, do I really care what she thinks? I barely know her. I must forget about her now. She doesn’t want to be friends, that much is clear. I gave her my number, I said I would call her or she could call me. Well, she has chosen not to call me and I did phone her so that’s that. I look at her number again and then click into the delete button and find myself hovering. No, that would be rash. After all, we were good friends and had a laugh. God, I’m tired. I throw the phone on the desk and lean back closing my eyes. Matt’s voice along with everyone else’s fades into the background. It rings making me jump and I grab it quickly. I feel a small stab of disappointment when I see it is not her. I answer it on the third ring.