Sharing Nicely

by Blisse, Victoria

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how much the club means to you.”

  I nodded. Tears flooded down my cheeks. I had nothing left, my business was in ruins, my private life was a mess and I couldn’t deny it anymore, I couldn’t hold it together for even a moment longer. It just flowed out of me in an unstoppable flood of tears and sobs.

  “Kerry, oh, Kerry.” He sighed and fidgeted in his seat. “I wish I could believe you but it all sounds so far-fetched.”

  I nodded, gasped in a lungful of air and wiped at my tear-stained cheeks. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself in front of him.

  “I’m sorry,” I gulped. “I wish I had some proof too, oh, do I. Darren is making my life a misery, Greg, but it’s nothing compared to the heartache of losing you.”

  And so the tears rocked me again. I really wanted to hold it together but I was broken, completely and utterly at the end of my tether. I couldn’t stop crying no matter how much I tried.

  Greg sat opposite me and said nothing. His jaw was no longer set and his eyes showed concern in their dark depths. He was leaning towards me from his side of the desk but he kept his hands clasped together, almost as if he was holding himself back.

  “Okay,” he finally spoke. “Okay, I’m going to ask you what may seem to be a weird question right now. Just go with it.”

  I nodded.

  “Which mobile network do you use?”

  I’m sobbing my heart out and he wants to sell me a phone package? I shook my head, I couldn’t believe that was the motivation to the question really, but it was what jumped to mind first.

  “Stamford’s,” I replied. “I’m already on your network.”

  “Okay, good. Now, another question. Did Darren ring you on your mobile phone?”

  “Yes, he did.” I looked up, wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. I was starting to understand what the questions were leading to.

  “Okay, okay. I’ve just got to ring someone and we won’t get an immediate answer, but we could, maybe, possibly, be able to prove at least part of your story.”

  Greg picked up his phone and looked at a piece of paper on his desk. He carefully dialled a number, then opened his desk drawer. He pulled out a box of tissues and pushed them across the wood to me. His first act of kindness since I had walked into his office. I crumpled into tears again.

  I didn’t usually respond so hysterically to things. I wasn’t much of a crier really, but in that office I felt like I cried enough tears to last a lifetime. I tried to get a grip on myself while Greg spoke on the phone.

  “Hiya, Trent, I need you to look up something for me. I need you to check the phone records for the account registered to Kerry Matthews. I have the number here.” He read out my number from the display on his phone. I felt a weird warmness inside when I realised he’d not deleted me as a contact.

  “When did he ring you?” Greg asked. I got out my phone and checked the call logs.

  “The twentieth of February at three twenty-eight p.m.”

  “Did you hear that, Trent? Yeah, three twenty-eight p.m. We need to know who rang and if we can get the call data. I need to hear the content of that call too.” He paused, looked up at me and smiled. It was only a brief lifting of his lips but it was a smile all the same. “Brilliant, thanks, Trent. Treat this as priority, it could be a case for criminal prosecution. Yep, okay, tell me the moment you get it.”

  Greg put down the phone and looked at me.

  “Right, well, you know what I’ve done. I’m going to try to listen to that call Darren made to you. If it is, as you claim, filled with threats, I will know you’re telling the truth, at least partly.”

  I scanned my memory quickly. That phone call was etched chillingly clearly there. “I think it could prove my whole story, we talked about Venice before he threatened the business.”

  “It’s a slim chance, Kerry, I have to warn you of that. It’s not as simple as it sounds to find the info.”

  “No, I appreciate that, Greg. I just hope it comes through for me.”

  “I wish I didn’t need proof,” Greg sighed, “but where he’s involved…”

  “I know.” I nodded, scrunching tissues in my hands. “I really do. I understand but I can’t deny it hurts me that you won’t take my word for it.”

  “It hurts me too.” He pushed his chair back from the desk. “But I’m a jaded man, Kerry, and although I long to be able to simply trust you, I find that experience has taught me I can’t.”

  “I’ve never done anything to purposefully hurt you, you know.” I got up and followed Greg over to the window that was directly behind his desk. The view over the city was breath-taking. I stood next to him, a few inches between our bodies, and looked out over the metropolis, astounded by its vastness.

  “I was scared to death when I went back to the balcony that night and you weren’t there. I searched high and low and it was only when I asked the footmen who were on duty by the canal exit that I found out you were okay and that you’d left with Darren. I was relieved and appalled all at once.”

  I reached out my hand. My knuckles almost brushed his when I decided that touching him might not be my best move.

  “I couldn’t believe it, but then I saw the CCTV footage and I had to believe what I saw.”

  “I wasn’t happy, Greg, surely you saw that? I wasn’t smiling.” I wanted to defend myself, which was ridiculous really—I was the victim, after all.

  “I didn’t see anything past you and him together,” Greg replied. “It’s all I’ve been able to see whenever I close my eyes.”

  He looked towards me. His eyes were lined with grey shadows, his face etched with pain and disappointment.

  “I was petrified, Greg. I was being kidnapped.” I might have felt a little sympathy for him but I was still angry at him too. He hadn’t come to rescue me, no, he hadn’t even waited for me. He’d left me stranded in a foreign country and he’d promised never to leave me.

  He shrugged.

  “I didn’t know that. Darren is a bastard, but I didn’t think he was capable of that.”

  “Look.” I grabbed Greg’s hand. His first reaction was to shake me free but then he held still. I gulped, my senses racked by touching him. “What I need to know right now is can we ever get back together? Even if it’s proved that all I’ve told you is the truth, will you be able to trust me?”

  I kept my hand on his, unwilling to pull it back, to lose its warmth, its comfort.

  He let out a deep shuddering breath and turned to face me. He caught my other hand in his, held both of them down at my sides and looked deep into my eyes.

  “I never wanted to not trust you,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to believe what I saw, I didn’t want to think you were capable of crushing me like that.”

  I shook my head gently, insistently, tears pooling once more, threatening to fall.

  “And now, now I’m faced with the possibility I was wrong. All the pain I’ve been through, all the sleepless nights, completely self-inflicted. I’m wondering if I’ve missed something, if I should have examined the footage harder, longer. If I’ve—” His voice ceased and I stepped forward, wanting to comfort him. “If I’ve ruined our relationship just because of my own hang-ups, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. I said I’d never leave you and if you didn’t go of your own accord, I did. I broke my promise.”

  I slipped my hands out of his and stepped forward. I wrapped myself around him and buried my face in his chest. Greg stood poker still as I sobbed against his bright red tie then he encompassed me in his embrace. He stroked my back and rested his chin on the top of my head.

  I didn’t want to think, I didn’t want to remember anything, I didn’t want the moment to stop. I was in his arms, I was held in the arms of the man I loved and for the first time in weeks I felt safe.

  “I can’t do this,” he said and pulled back. “I want to, but I can’t, I really can’t.”

  I pulled back too. “I know, but I needed that.
It’s all I’ve wanted for weeks, I’ve just felt so alone.” Once again, despite my determination not to, I burst into tears.

  “Oh, jeez, Kerry, I’m so sorry.” He reached out again and pulled me to his chest. I sobbed uncontrollably and he just held me. I was warm, comfortable and content while I was in his arms. Nothing had really changed—when he let me go I’d still be clubless, manless and broken-hearted—but in the safety of his embrace none of that mattered.

  “Better?” he asked when the sobbing had subsided.

  “Yes,” I replied, “though I don’t think your shirt will ever be the same again.”

  He laughed. “Oh good, your sense of humour is still intact. Look, I’m going to call Chester to get home. Do you want a lift?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll get the Tube.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. If I hang around much longer I’m going to try to kiss you and if you resist it’ll make me cry again and I swear I haven’t got any tears left.”

  “I won’t resist,” Greg replied. “I can’t resist you.”

  I didn’t wait to think. I pushed myself against him, tipped my head back and kissed him. He did resist for a little while, probably a split second, but from my prone position it felt like forever before his lips moved in sync against mine. I forgot all the heartache, all the loneliness in that kiss. As our lips danced it was like we’d never been parted. He ran his hands down my shoulders and I gripped his hips, holding on for dear life while arousal and desire flooded me.

  I wanted him to take me there, up against the window, I wanted to feel his naked flesh against mine but just as I contemplated running my hand inside his shirt my conscience kicked in.

  “I’d love to keep going,” I panted and licked my lips, “but it’s not fair, is it? I’d be using my feminine wiles on you and you’re not sure you trust me. I don’t want to make it harder for you. I don’t want to persuade you with sex.”

  He nodded, squeezed the tops of my arms and dipped his head to kiss me again. I was taken by surprise and staggered back.

  “I trust you, Kerry,” he breathed. “I do. I just let my stupid insecurities get in the way. Let me ring Chester. We’ll go back to my place, I’ll cook us something tasty, we’ll drink something fruity and decadent and just catch up. What do you say to that?”

  “It sounds really good, Greg, but what happens if—”

  “It won’t. I’ll either get to hear that call or I won’t. I don’t care now—unless you’re confessing undying love to the Scouse gingernut in it there’s nothing I could hear to change my mind. I promise. I was stupid, I jumped to conclusions. I don’t want to waste any more time thinking about that.”

  “If I say all right and I come with you, I’m trusting you, really trusting you, because I’m so fragile right now I’m not sure I could take more bad news, honestly, Greg. You broke a promise to me once before. I couldn’t take any more.”

  “There is minimal risk that you’ve been lying to me all along and I’ll discover that and so, we’ll be back to square one. It’s minimal. If you’re telling me the truth, I want you back in my life. I’ve been miserable without you. I promise to you that I love you and I will try never, ever to be so wilfully stupid in future.”

  I read the sincerity in his eyes, in the tone of his voice, and I wanted to believe him.

  “Okay,” I relented. “Let’s do it.”

  Greg rang Chester and I waited by the window. I enjoyed the view. I weighed up what I’d done. I still didn’t think that sneaking into Greg’s place of work had been my best plan ever, but it had worked, or so it seemed. I knew I should have been unforgiving really. He had believed the worst of me. He’d distrusted me and left me behind.

  I found it hard to judge him for that, though. He’d taken the evidence he had and he’d just jumped to the wrong conclusion. Did it really say much about his relationship with me or was it more about his history with Darren? After all, I had played them off against each other when we first met, so it didn’t take a huge leap to get to the conclusion he’d made. I couldn’t hate him for that.

  “Chester will be here in half an hour. I just need to do a little work before we leave, to set up for tomorrow.”

  “Okay, no problem.” I smiled.

  “Do you want a drink or a snack? There’s everything you could ever want over there in the corner.”

  “I’ll get myself a drink, thanks.”

  He wasn’t exaggerating. In the corner near the door where I came in was a fridge and it was filled to overflowing with all kinds of things. I pulled out a bottle of water and wandered back over to his desk while I waited.

  I changed my mind a little about having a desk job when I looked around Greg’s huge office. It was filled with comforts, good views and he clearly had all the communication he wanted at the end of the phone or with the hundreds of other people working in the office block with him.

  “Hello, miss.” Chester greeted me when we went down to meet him. “Very good to see you again.”

  “And you, Chester.” I smiled when he opened the limo door for me. “Thank you.” I slipped in and Greg followed, sitting close next to me and slipping his arm around my shoulders.

  “It’s good to have you close again,” he whispered in my ear. “Have I told you I missed you?”

  “I don’t remember,” I replied with a coy smile. “Say it again.”

  “I missed you,” he repeated and kissed me.

  “I missed you too,” I replied as I breathed out his soft kiss.

  We snuggled in silence for the rest of the journey. I even fell asleep crooked in his arm, held tight to his chest for a while.

  “Come on, sleepy head.” Greg woke me with a gentle shake. “We’ve reached home.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure where we were. The house was surrounded by bushes and trees and seemed as far away from central London as it was possible to get. The front door was shiny black and we stepped up half a dozen stone stairs to get to it. The building was square and grey and definitely old. I was quite taken by its grandeur. Inside the décor was matched with its exterior, minimalistic—hardwood floors and light-coloured walls with very little extravagant decoration.

  I followed Greg through to his kitchen, which was bigger than my whole flat put together, with what seemed like acres of black marble tops and dozens of cupboards and a cooker that looked like it meant business. “Blimey,” I exclaimed, “you could cook for an army in here.”

  “Yeah”—he nodded, then walked over to the fridge—“it does seem a little excessive considering I mostly cook for myself, but I do like the space and I get a cleaner in to tidy up after me, which is even better.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I replied.

  “So, I’ve got this salmon in. I was thinking it’d be nice with some Asian-style noodles and veggies, what do you think?”

  My stomach grumbled. “That sounds delicious, I don’t think I’ve eaten yet today.”

  Greg shook his head and tutted. “You really need someone to look after you, don’t you?”

  I bristled for a moment, my usual fight mode kicking in, then I laughed. “I do, I really do. I’m crap at all the day-to-day domestic stuff.”

  He laughed and nodded.

  It was fun watching Greg cook. It was all so effortless and the things he threw in the wok seemed transformed. A little dash of this, a few pieces of that, some chopped-up veg and boom, there was a hearty, one-pot meal that had me salivating.

  “We’ll eat in the living room, I’m too tired for formality.”

  He gave me the bowls and forks and pointed me towards the living room. He followed me with a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

  “I know it’s the middle of the week but I reckon we both deserve a drop of something mellow, what do you think?”

  “I agree wholeheartedly. Make mine a big ’un, I won’t be in work tomorrow.”

  “So, what are you going to do about the club?” he asked.

 
I settled the bowls on the large glass table and sat on the impressive black leather sofa, which was as comfortable as it was masculine and intimidating. “Oh, I don’t know,” I sighed. “I’ll have to put the insurance claim in as soon as possible, I suppose, but I don’t know when I’ll hear the verdict on how it was started. If they find it’s arson, well, fuck knows when I’ll get a payout.”

  “Can you afford to rebuild without the insurance?” Greg popped the cork out of the bottle and poured two generous measures.

  “I suppose it depends on the extent of the damage. I’ve got some funds. I think I’d need to try and get a loan somehow, but I’ll sure as hell scrape together the money if it kills me.”

  “That’s the spirit.” He passed me a glass and held his out for a toast. “I won’t offend you by offering the money outright, but if you need a loan, come to me, we’ll sort out some kind of good deal. I’ll get my legal team on it.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled. “I appreciate that. If I need it, I’ll let you know. I have to say, the idea of canvassing banks for loans had filled me with dread.” We clinked our glasses together and I drank. “Ooh, this is smooth.” I moaned.

  “It’s a favourite of mine,” he replied. “I knew you’d like it.”

  “So, thanks for the offer of help.”

  “No problem. It’s a no-brainer. I know I’ll get my investment back, you’re so driven.”

  I nodded. “I’ve doubted it a time or two recently—it’s been one problem after another at work and I’ve wished I was capable of giving up a time or two.”

  “You’re not going to, though, right?”

  “No way.” I leant forward, put down my glass and picked up my bowl of noodle goodness. “I’m not going to let Darren get his way.”

  The conversation dried up then and as much as I enjoyed the noodles I couldn’t take the tension. “Sorry, we should ban his name from conversation.”

  “No, no, it’s okay.” Greg shook his head. “Can’t let the bastard get us down.”

  I nodded. “He said you were the bastard, that you nicked his girlfriend or something? He ranted on for ages about it.”