Breaking Joseph

by Lucy V. Morgan

I dodged a potted plant in the corridor. “I did.”

  “You were special.” She laughed. “Anyway. There will be the usual stuff–presentations for the best students, an auction with various donated bits. Joseph sent a script this year.”

  “A script?”

  She checked her watch. “He owns a couple of older Joss Whedon scripts–you know, Buffy, Angel, that kind of thing. This one has annotations, notes, doodles. It should fetch something hefty.”

  It wasn’t easy to reconcile his split character: the wolf in the shadows who spent his evenings fantasizing about improper behaviour with rolling pins, and the woodcutter who gave up his favourite things for charity and paid whores to go away because they seemed unhappy. But then if I knew myself, I knew a bit of him, and knew all the acts were equally self-indulgent. Still…weird seeing them from outside the shell.

  “Sadie.” Matt caught her elbow as she passed. “Don’t suppose you found out if I could give this thing a miss tonight? What with my stupid leg.”

  “Erm.” She paused, her eyes darting. “I believe his precise words were: I don’t fucking think so.”

  “That’ll be a no, then,” I said.

  Matt waited until he thought nobody could hear him. "Cunt," he muttered under his breath.

  * * * *

  Clemmie had offered to do my hair and makeup, which I assumed was an excuse to escape from her love-corpse flat. Not that I complained, of course–she was as deft with a blusher brush as she was with all she cooked, and nobody could straighten my hair with such precision, or line my eyes with quite as steady a hand.

  Still, the spectres of truths untold lingered between us, and she seemed so miserable that I couldn’t bring myself to share any good news. If Joseph could even be classed as that, anyway. Aidan was hardly enthusiastic.

  “He’s taken all the pictures down,” she said mournfully. “All the ones from our Thailand trips, the ones with my brothers…our holidays…everything. The whole place is bare. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

  “You’ll make a new home,” I insisted.

  “I don’t want to!” She stamped her foot and her heel squeaked on my wooden floor. “It’s not like I don’t think we should split. I’d been thinking it for a while. I just wish I could go back to the point where we started to go rotten and do something, you know? Lance the boil.”

  “Nip it in the bud.” I twisted so she could reach another section of hair. “Though you’ll never know if it was a bad bud to begin with.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Clem.” I brushed her knee. “You are gorgeous and talented and funny. You don’t need him, for God’s sake.”

  “And yet it appears that he doesn’t need me either.” She sank down next to me. “Would it be okay if I stayed here tonight? I really can’t face all those empty walls.”

  “Of course it is. I won’t be home until late, mind.”

  “I was being nosy earlier–there’s wine and chocolate in your fridge. I’ll be fine.” She sniffed a bit. “Now let’s get you sorted before the cab turns up.”

  I scowled. “Do I look that bad?”

  “You look like an utter whorebag. Sit still and let me salvage a few scraps of class.”

  I felt so inadequate trying to console her. I had no idea how much it hurt to lose a partner of years. Charlie and I had never made any promises, nor had demands or designs on each other; we drifted apart amicably and I had not cried. While I’d loved him in a fashion, it had not consumed my life. As for Matt…the end was brutal, but swift. It wasn’t the same. I just wasn’t qualified to make Clemmie feel better.

  “I could bring you home a bit of tipsy posh totty,” I suggested. “They’ll be ten to the dozen tonight. I’ll have the sofa and I’ll just put a film on really loudly.”

  She paused with the eyeliner as she giggled. “I’ve had enough of the posh ones. They’re all condescending twats. I want someone a bit more rough and ready next time. And older. He has to know what he wants.”

  “Older is definitely a bonus.”

  “Well, maybe not as old as your Charlie.”

  “Fuck off.” I laughed. “Fifty isn’t old. Anyway. Don’t knock it before you’ve tried it!”

  “Seriously, though. Did he have grey pubes? Was his ball sack all swingy and sagging?” She made a little cradle with her fingers, flung it over her shoulder, and I stuttered with laughter.

  “No, no, Clem! You vile cock botherer!”

  “Seriously, though.” She straightened her face. “I’m too Thai to be with an antique man. Everyone would think he’d ordered me online.”

  I tittered, though shame turned corporeal in the corner. Men had ordered me online a hundred times.

  Clemmie waved me off as the car pulled up and I climbed in next to Joseph. Wordlessly, he smiled and eased my long skirt up to observe the shoes he’d bought. His nod of approval made me twitch against my sheer knickers.

  “You look good,” I said shyly, gesturing to his dark blue suit. The fabric had that subtle sheen to it that made me desperate to reach out and stroke.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” He fondled my knee. “You look filthy. And lovely.”

  “We’re sickening, you know.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t get any worse. People will stop being scared of me at the office and I’ll have to bite the head off a small mammal at the next meeting.”

  “You’re the one who wanted us to go together,” I said pointedly.

  “It’s not as if nobody knows. We were hardly very discreet in New York.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll just have to avoid Isobel.”

  I blinked. “I’m sorry–Isobel is going tonight, and you haven’t told her about us?”

  My skin simmered in panic and I saw her tear-stained face again in the toilet cubicle. You were never involved with him, were you? I’d forgotten this moment would come, the one when she’d realize I’d played her false. I felt sick.

  Joseph frowned. “Why would I rub it in like that?”

  “Because she loved you and this is a shitty way to find out how quickly you’ve moved on? Because I told her we were never involved?” I clapped damp palms to my temples. “Oh God. She’s going to know you were cheating with me.”

  He spent a fat, swollen moment adjusting his tie. “There’s not a lot we can do about it now.”

  “Yes, there is. You can warn her.” I closed my eyes in an attempt to stay calm. It didn’t work. “I told Matt. He wanted to know.”

  “Leila. Does it really matter?”

  “You’re supposed to be trying to be less of a prick!”

  The driver glanced back at us in the mirror and we both recoiled.

  “All right.” He sighed as he tugged out his phone. “Did you honestly think she’d never realize?”

  “I never thought I’d have to face her like this. Not so soon.” In truth, I had been so absorbed in work, Matt, Clemmie, in him, that it had barely crossed my mind–and I was disgusted with myself. “What are you saying on there?”

  There was a little beep as he sent the text. “That you and I started dating while in New York, and that I wanted her to know before everyone else. It’s not that hard to believe, given the circumstances. And it’s true to a degree.”

  “That’s…tactful.”

  He pouted. “Don’t look so fucking surprised.”

  We waited for Isobel’s reply, but nothing arrived except the confirmation.

  The ball was held at a large and distinguished hotel in the city. A red carpet had been rolled out for the more recognizable guests and we snuck in at a side door to avoid disappointing the photographers.

  Nerves chomped away at me as Joseph knotted his fingers with mine. His skin was cool and yet our palms melted together, heat zipping up my arm to surface as a flush on my chest. When had I become such a weak shit? Maybe hormones were to blame. Or maybe I didn’t believe that all this was what I deserved, that I was waiting for the bedpost to catch fire and my notches to dissipate in wisps of
smoke and ash.

  As we waited to enter the ballroom, I looked up at Joseph and an invisible hand smacked me round the face with the apple.

  I was falling for him.

  Not the way I had loved Charlie–that was serene, satisfied, contented. This was voracious and raging and so slippery between my fingers that my knuckles ached to keep up. It was foreboding, too, as if I knew in the same way that I felt matched to him that it could not end well.

  Could it?

  What was I meant to do?

  “You could try smiling, baby,” he whispered.

  I half jumped out of my skin. “Sorry. I was a million miles away.”

  “Stop doing that.” He brushed smooth lips against my neck. “Wherever it is you go, I’m starting to get jealous.”

  Oh.

  With our names confirmed on the guest list, we strode into the packed room. Huge projector screens showed clips of the Trust’s work on loop, though the sound was drowned out by the quartet of elegant women playing electric violins on the stage. Men in dress suits and women in flowing gowns hovered in swarms, buzzing at each other with excited chatter. Joseph caught a waiter with a laden silver tray, and then passed me a Bellini in a paper-thin glass.

  “It’s insane in here,” I called.

  “It’ll get worse. Keep a hold of my arm and we’ll try to find our table.”

  We didn’t get far before we bumped into people Joseph knew, and I was soon introduced to a string of his friends, acquaintances and business contacts–people he had worked with, studied or lunched with. This is my Leila, he told them with a firm smile. She joins the firm next month. She is a very good lawyer. My hands were stiff from all the shaking and I was jittery at the mention of our coded little phrase.

  I’m telling you so that when you hear me say it in a board room, or a restaurant…you’ll know what I really mean is that you’re the most lush little thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  Maybe I didn’t mind being the spoils of war.

  It was a relief to spot Matt and Toby loitering by the bar. I almost broke off to say hello, but then Toby shot me a sharp glare. Ouch. Instead, I nodded at Matt in acknowledgment.

  We reached our table just before the starters arrived. Kenji and Elise were already there, pretending to look interested in something Yves was twittering on in that slightly drunk tone he always had. Elise squeezed my hand as I sat down next to her and I pressed back in secretive sympathy.

  “Leila,” said Joseph, “you haven’t met Yves’s wife. This is Miranda.”

  “A pleasure,” I said. She looked bored already. And expensive. Her smile seemed genuine enough–hell, if I was married to Yves, that’d be one mean feat.

  Joseph nudged me the other way and my gaze came to rest upon the brunette next to Sadie.

  “And this,” he grinned, “is Abi Rafaelli.”

  “Abi and I are engaged,” Sadie said, blushing slightly.

  I gripped Abi’s hand as she offered it and was struck by how dainty her wrists were. “Congratulations,” I said. “How long have you been together?”

  “Five years, now. We’re practically married anyway but of course, it’s only now we’re allowed to do it.” Abi had a light accent–Italian, judging by her name. She chewed her glossy lip and then winced as her phone vibrated. “I have to get this. Apologies. ’Ello? Oh, fuck you, Andreas!” She twisted in her seat as if it was as good as leaving the room.

  “I’m sorry about this,” said Sadie.

  “For fuck’s sake!” Abi snapped, gesturing wildly. “Is it so much to ask that you just deal with it? Figlio di puttanta! You disgust me.”

  “Who’s Andreas?” I whispered.

  Sadie pursed her lips. “Her PA.”

  “I see.” I giggled into Joseph’s shoulder. “She doesn’t talk to you like that, does she, Sadie?”

  The blonde’s cheeks burst with crimson and I gave her a silent, knowing nod.

  “I think she’s wonderful,” Joseph announced with a smirk.

  Sadie shook her head. “You would!”

  I glanced between Joseph and Sadie, and wondered what kind of relationship they had. There had always been gossip–it was going to happen, given the nature of her position–though I’d never believed much of it. She seemed so mellow and warm compared to his cool temper that I’d never assumed they would actually be friends.

  “Gustafave. Ugh! I’m so sorry.” Abi turned back to us with a sigh. “No rest for the wicked, mmm?”

  “So what is it you do?” I said.

  “PR, bella. Joseph. Where did you find this girl? What happened to your last one, you bastard?”

  “PR, huh?”

  “Don’t worry.” Sadie patted my arm. “I was surprised too.”

  “It…ended.” Joseph swallowed, half amused, and half scanning the crowd for Isobel, lest she hear him. “Leila’s been training in my office.”

  Abi leaned over and brushed my chin with long fingernails. “You are far more suitable, bella. The last one had eyes like she’d just fallen out of an opium den.”

  Sadie gawped at her. “Abi!”

  I wanted to weep. I loved Abi too–but poor Andreas.

  We had almost finished the main course when I spotted Isobel a couple of tables away. She caught my eye immediately and just stared blankly, sucking at my shame, demanding that it show itself. It took three blinks to break the spell.

  “Are you all right?” Elise nudged my plate. “You’ve hardly eaten a thing.”

  “It’s been a long week.”

  “Oh. Just didn’t want to think you were feeling funny about…you know.” She smiled shyly.

  “Oh no. No.” I brushed my knee to hers under the table. “Nothing to do with that, chick.” I polished off my second Bellini and reached for the wine. “Trust me on that one.”

  “Leila.” Joseph caught the bottle before I could pour. “Slow down a little.”

  Abi snorted. “She’s trying to dull the pain of going home with you!”

  “Why would she want to dull it?”

  I felt his fingers swirl at the base of my spine and they caught each nerve ending through the silk, playing them like strings on a harp. God, I wanted to rush home with him, to peel his clothes away and have his weight atop me while he bit at my neck. To have his voice burying into my skin where it belonged, rather than the foot away it was resigned to in this noisy, annoying room.

  The auction lasted over an hour. Joseph bid on two cars and lost both with much swearing, though his donated script fetched a tidy sum. Abi and Sadie won a cruise on a yacht belonging to some European celebrity and ordered Champagne to celebrate. Yves was slurring before we got to the cheese course and practically passed out by coffee, while Miranda had three cups and her eyes stretched like saucers.

  A DJ came on after the patron speeches and I excused myself to get some air. Out in the smoking area, I found myself squashed not far behind two very familiar figures.

  “It stinks out here, Tobe,” Matt complained. “You were meant to have quit. I thought you were saving for Amsterdam?”

  “What’s the point of going to Amsterdam if you don’t smoke?” Toby said. “Anyway, you wanted to get out of there.”

  I leaned forward to tap Matt’s shoulder but another couple kept getting in the way.

  “Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Not sure how long I can watch them. Fancy taking off in a bit?”

  “What? Seriously, you’re going to give up another two hours of free drink because of that bitch?”

  I took a great gulp of smoky air and then clapped a hand up to ease the coughing.

  Matt shook his head, dark hair tumbling into his eyes. “I don’t need the reminder right now, okay?”

  Toby took a long drag. “Reminder of what?”

  “That the bad guy got the girl.”

  “I think you’ll find that the bad guy got the prostitute. Boo fucking hoo.”

  Ouch. Again.

  “Yeah. I guess they deserve each other.” Matt attempted a
smile, but only half his mouth obeyed.

  “I hope she gives him syphilis and his cock rots off.”

  They turned before I remembered that I was eavesdropping, and Matt looked straight at me. The colour drained from his cheeks.

  “Leila,” he spluttered, reaching out to guide me over. “Hi.”

  I nodded soberly at Toby, who suddenly puffed away at twice the speed. Then I pulled words from clay. “So…how’s your leg?”

  “It’s better. A bit. A little bit.” He poked his brother in the ribs. “Tobe was just going to get some drinks.”

  Toby’s eyes shot up in exasperation. “I’ll see you inside,” he muttered, stomping off.

  I stood for a moment, focusing on the decking and the melee of chatter around us.

  Matt nudged me with a light hand. “You heard us, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” I bit my lip.

  “Huh.” He stepped from foot to foot. “I’m sorry.”

  More silence.

  “So how’s it going?” he said.

  “It’s good.” I cocked my head. “I met Sadie’s girlfriend.”

  “Girlfriend? Oh man.” He hooted. “Aidan is going to pissed that he missed that one!”

  “I hadn’t thought about it like that, actually. I feel smug already.”

  “Smug about what?” A large hand cupped my hip, and Joseph materialized behind me.

  “It’s nothing.”

  He and Matt eyed each other. Tension fizzed in the air.

  “Elise was worried about you,” Joseph murmured. “So was I.”

  “I just needed some fresh air. It’s stuffy in there.”

  He sniffed. “It’s hardly fresh out here.”

  “Don’t worry.” Matt’s voice swelled with Dutch courage. “I wasn’t about to have her up against the wall.”

  Ground, I know we’ve only just met, but do you swallow?

  Joseph’s upper lip twitched. “More’s the pity–you know how I like to watch.” With that, he gripped my elbow and steered me back inside.

  “Was that really necessary?” I hissed.

  “You could say the same of him. He asked for that.”

  I wasn’t sure who had more of a point.

  We stayed a while to chat and dance. It was already past eleven, and I sent Clemmie a text to warn her that I was nowhere near getting home.