Perfect Stranger

by Sofia Grey

  He sounded so forlorn, it was hard to be mad at him. I paused my task. “You need to respect that I have work as well, babe. And sometimes I can’t drop everything, to talk to you.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “But she used to do that. And it reminded me. You know.”

  She was his ex, Shari. He wouldn’t say much about her, other than she cheated on him. It had been so bad, apparently, that he now had trust issues, and I had to be sympathetic. As he pointed out, trust had to be earned, and we’d only been together a year.

  “Umm, where’s my Ralph Lauren shirt? I wanted to wear that tomorrow.”

  I scanned the hangers. “The blue one?” Rob needed more wardrobe space than I did.

  “No, dummy. The white one with the double cuffs and the purple stripe.”

  He had six other white shirts, freshly ironed. “Can’t you wear another?”

  “For Christ’s sake, Jen. I asked you to have this one ready for me. We’re meeting the finance people tomorrow, and I want to look my best.” He released me and riffled through the contents of his wardrobe, pulling out one shirt after another and dropping them on the bed. “It’s not here. Fucking hell. Where is it?”

  I scowled as I retrieved the clothes and re-hung them. “How should I know?”

  He was stomping out of the bedroom. “Because it’s your job to do the fucking laundry, Jen. That’s what we agreed.” I heard him upend the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. Next minute, he appeared in the bedroom doorway and threw a wadded bundle of cloth at me. “This one. Is it too much to ask? Really?”

  “I did all the washing on Sunday. It couldn’t have been in the basket then, or I’d have washed it.”

  Rob shook his head. “You don’t have much to do, and this is one shirt. One fucking shirt. Tell you what. You pay all the bills and maintain the car—and how about you do the renovations on the property we eventually buy? And in exchange, I’ll do the laundry. Fair, don’t you think?”

  I swallowed down the sarcastic comment that sprung to my lips, and instead examined the shirt he was so desperate for. A light brown stain sat front and center of the white poplin. I sniffed it. Coffee. “I’ve no idea if this stain is going to come out. You should have—”

  “You should get a move on, then.”

  Tempted though I was to throw it back at him, I didn’t. “I’ll try.”

  His smile returned. “Thanks, dumpling. You’re the best.”

  5.3 Kate

  Isobel and I shared a taxi on Saturday night, and we set off to collect Jen.

  I shared the story of Adam’s thinly veiled pass at me, and Isobel gave me a puzzled frown. “Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand him?”

  “What? No, I didn’t. Besides, you know Adam chases anything in a skirt. I guess I was the next in line.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel good.”

  She turned to stare out the window, at the busy Manchester streets, and I paused. Memories flashed through my head. Finding Isobel snogging Adam at a long-ago Christmas party, when she still worked at ComCo. Isobel’s careless mention of a fling at one of the supplier conferences last year.

  “Belle, you and Adam… You’re not an item, are you?” I asked.

  Her cheeks were bright red when she looked at me. “Maybe.”

  “But what about Greg?”

  Isobel shrugged. “It’s not like we’re married or anything, and I don’t see Adam that often.” Her lips curved up with the irrepressible smile I knew so well—the angelic expression that endeared her to customers and managers alike. She nibbled her lip while twisting a lock of hair around her finger. “He’s so exciting. Adam, I mean. While Greg is… not. I need an occasional dose of Adam. He makes me feel like a desirable woman, not a piece of furniture.”

  I groped for something sensible to say. “But you know Adam isn’t exactly faithful, don’t you?”

  “He talks a lot; that’s all.”

  I thought differently, but she wouldn’t believe me. I leaned back in my seat. Was I so wrapped up in my job that I didn’t notice anything going on around me? First Tony having an affair, and now Isobel.

  “We’re keeping things quiet at the moment, Kate. It’s just a matter of timing, but I know you won’t tell anyone. Nobody else knows. Not even Jenny.”

  I wanted to ask if she was going to end things with Greg, but we’d arrived at Jen’s house, and the moment was lost.

  Jen scrambled into the cab to join us, looking flustered. She pushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead and blew out a breath. “I didn’t think I was going to be ready in time. Rob’s going to a barbecue at his boss’s house tonight and wanted me to make some food for him to take with. I made a giant batch of chocolate brownies and a trifle. Do you think that’ll be enough?”

  “Your chocolate brownies are to die for, Jen.” I gave her a quick hug. “Rob doesn’t know how lucky he is.” Her cheeks pinked, and I remembered our conversation from the other day. “Cade used to be obsessed with your baking. Is it nice working with him again?”

  Isobel’s eyes widened. “Are you talking about Cade Brisley? He’s as yummy as your baking.” She smoothed a hand over her immaculate hair. “If he didn’t have Tasha glued to his side, I’d have made a play for him a long time ago.”

  Jen smiled, but it looked brittle. “I probably won’t have much to do with him. I’ve got some gossip for you, though.” We both looked at her. “I can’t remember if I told you my boss, Marella, asked if I knew Adam?” We both shook our heads, and Jen sat forward in her seat. “I didn’t know where to look when she said they were living together. I mean, what could I say? Your boyfriend is a sleaze, with all the morals of a randy tomcat and wandering hands that would put an Italian gigolo to shame?”

  I couldn’t help laughing, but Isobel didn’t join in. She gazed out of the window, and then clapped her hands. “We’re here. And there’s Pippa and Lucy, waiting for us.” Her voice was too bright, and I wondered again why she’d ever gotten involved with Adam.

  * * * *

  The play was hilarious, and the five of us walked to a nearby Italian restaurant afterward. Pippa was another ex-ComCo person, and Lucy was Isobel’s sister. We’d been out together many times as a group.

  Pippa was describing someone in her office. “He’s as big a lech as Adam Jones.”

  I glanced at Isobel, who selected a fresh breadstick. “Adam’s not so bad,” she said. “He’s just got a bit of a reputation.”

  Jenny was scathing. “Reputation, my arse. He’s the reason Pippa and I left ComCo.”

  “Come on, Jen, you said you wanted better prospects, the usual stuff.” Isobel’s voice was strained.

  “Only because my prospects at ComCo dwindled to absolute zero. Adam was furious when I wouldn’t sleep with him. He was waiting for the staff reviews and then he was going to transfer me. To Exeter.”

  The table fell silent. Everyone looked at Isobel when the breadstick snapped between her fingers.

  “I couldn’t handle it any longer.” Pippa’s soft voice drew our gazes to her. “Every time I stayed late, he was there. At first, I thought he was charming. He knew I was seeing someone, but he kept pestering me to go to the pub. When we got there, we were alone, though he said there was a group going. It got worse when he gave me the Lythgoes account. He had lots of excuses for us going to Kent, to see the customer. And always with an overnight stay.”

  She flicked her long hair back from her face and took a drink before continuing. “After a while, Mark got fed up. I didn’t like all the overnight stops either, and he became convinced I was having an affair.” She shuddered. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t go near Adam—but Mark didn’t believe me. After Mark broke up with me, in September, Adam tried endlessly to charm me into his bed, but I still said no. Like Jenny, my future included a transfer. Do you think I really wanted to move to Kent?”

  When Isobel slipped away to the toilets, I followed. She gazed into the mirror, her hands clenched tight around the washbasin. She
was close to tears. “He’s not like that, Kate. Not with me.”

  I hesitated. “He’s bad news, Belle. Why don’t you stick with Greg? He’s lovely.”

  She exhaled slowly, relaxed her death grip on the basin, and turned away to rummage in her handbag. “Yeah. Greg.” She produced a hairbrush and dragged it through her hair, before touching up her makeup. “Let’s go clubbing.”

  I admired her stamina. We danced until the early hours, and she hardly stopped for breath, with a succession of handsome men buzzing around her. It reminded me with a pang of dancing with Jordan. Where was he now? Back in London?

  Yet again, I kicked myself for not staying in Exeter with him.

  5.4 Jenny

  When the others decided to go to another club, I made my apologies and headed for home. I’d love to stay out dancing until the early hours, but I’d promised Rob I’d be home before midnight. Like Cinderella. With any luck, he’d be in bed and wouldn’t realize it was closer to one in the morning.

  I paid the taxi driver and tiptoed up the path to the front door, my key in hand. Though the key turned in the lock, the door didn’t open. Huh? I jiggled the key, snapped it right and left, and then shoved at the door. Fuck. Rob must have slipped the catch into place. There was no way I could open it from the outside.

  What should I do? I could phone him or bang on the door. Would he be asleep? Ours was the ground-floor apartment, so I could rattle on the windows, but our bedroom was at the back, and that meant walking down a narrow unlit alley, to get access.

  I knocked on the door. “Rob? Are you awake? I can’t get in.”

  Nothing.

  I dug out my phone and had just pulled up his number, when I heard a clicking sound and the door swung open. Rob stood there, fully dressed, beer bottle in hand.

  “Hi.” God. I forgot sometimes how handsome he was. After fending off wannabes in the nightclub for the last couple of hours, it was a thrill to come home to my sexy hubby. “I couldn’t open the door.”

  He stepped aside, let me in, and locked the door behind me. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Umm.” I tried to focus on the time on my phone. “Eleven-something?”

  “It’s nearly one. Where the fuck have you been?”

  I tried to pout. When Isobel pouted, it made her look even prettier. “You know where I’ve been. Out with Kate.” I reached down and unfastened my shoes, then toed them off to lie abandoned on the floor. “How was the thing with Malcolm?”

  “They wanted to meet my wife. I told them you were sick.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Was I supposed to tell them my wife was shaking her ass inside Metro-Metro? You said you were going to the theater.”

  How did he know which club I’d been to? In bare feet, I barely came up to his chin, and I had to peer up at him. “I did. And then dinner, and then… How did you know?”

  “I was driving past and saw you in the queue.” He stepped closer, crowding me. “Who did you say you were with?”

  I didn’t. “Kate, Isobel”—I ticked the names off with my fingers—”Pippa, and Lucy.”

  “What about the guys?” He moved again, blocking me against the wall.

  “What guys?”

  “The guys that went into Metro-fucking-Metro with you.” He spoke slowly, each word clear and cold.

  “There weren’t any.” I laughed. What a silly idea. “I went with Kate and the girls.”

  “I fucking saw you, Jenny. In the queue. Some arsehole had his arm around your shoulders.”

  That didn’t sound right. I had a few drinks, but I’d remember that, surely. “You’re mistaken, babe.”

  “Don’t call me a fucking liar.” He yelled the last word.

  Everything happened in slow motion. Rob lifted his hand. He snapped his wrist. The bottle flew at the wall near my head. The glass smashed, sending foamy beer cascading over the wall and carpet. Brown glass flew outward. I squealed and covered my eyes.

  “Now look what you’ve done.” He grabbing the neckline of my dress like it was a dog collar and shoved me to my knees. I was kneeling in broken glass, the smell of beer surrounding me. “Clean it up, Jen. I don’t want to hear more excuses.”

  What the fuck? My head spun, and my stomach churned, and for a second, I thought I was going to be sick. My knees were bleeding. I had shards of broken glass in my hair and beer all over my prettiest dress. I gazed up at Rob. One thing needed to be said. “There weren’t any guys. Nobody had their arm around me.”

  Rob tightened his jaw. He leaned back against the kitchen doorway and tucked both hands into his pockets. “You shouldn’t have gone there. You didn’t say anything about going clubbing. What kind of tramp goes to a nightclub, instead of going out with her husband? That’s why I said you were sick.” He nudged at the base of the bottle with his foot. “Now clean up this fucking mess. I’m waiting.”

  Stunned, I picked up the pieces with my bare hands, and then dabbed at the liquid with tissues from my bag. My fingers were cut by the time I’d finished, and I had a lattice of scratches across my knees. Rob watched every move I made, not allowing me to get up until he agreed the floor was glass-free. Then he fetched me soapy water and a cloth, to wipe the wall and clean the carpet.

  I did it all on auto-pilot. In my head, I was still dancing with Kate and the girls or fast asleep in bed, with Rob snoring beside me. Either was better than the truth.

  It was nearly three o’clock when I tried to go to bed, only Rob insisted I shower first. I stunk of beer, so it made sense. I stood under the hot water, eyes closed. Was I scared of Rob? I’d seen him in a rage before, but he’d never hurt me. He loved me too much.

  As if he read my thoughts, he stepped under the water behind me and held me close. “I’m sorry, dumpling. So sorry. Thinking about you with someone else… I can’t handle it.”

  My throat was tight with unshed tears. “There weren’t any guys, Rob. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Jen. I just— Fuck.” He huffed a beer-scented breath that made me gag. “I love you so much. Don’t do that again.”

  Chapter 6

  6.1 Kate

  The week flew by, and suddenly it was the day of the newly created team meeting. Everyone was at the pub except Adam, so I handed out the agenda. We’d have to start without him, otherwise I’d never finish the monthly report. I’d be up late, anyway.

  I was about to launch into the first item, when an excited look flitted across Liane’s face. I followed her gaze and saw Adam walking in. Great. My newest employee was the latest to crush on him.

  Strolling beside Adam was an equally tall man, hair hidden under a reversed baseball cap. That must be Colin.

  “Hi guys.” Adam winked at the group and bestowed his lazy grin on Liane, before turning to acknowledge me. “Let me introduce our new Relationship Manager, Colin Hooper.”

  I managed a tight smile. “Hi. We’re about to start. Would you like to join us?”

  “We’ll grab a beer first,” said my boss. “Don’t wait for us.”

  I didn’t know whether to feel annoyed or relieved. Stay calm. Be professional. “Right.” My voice boomed out louder than I expected, and everyone stared at me. “Let’s get this meeting going.”

  We covered the sales targets and year-to-date totals, and then moved onto customer feedback. We’d had a good month, and I began to relax. Mistake. Adam and Colin joined the group, taking chairs at the side and holding a barely muted conversation. I caught occasional words. It sounded as though they were talking about a TV show. Why bother attending the meeting if they weren’t going to take part?

  I dragged my focus back and listened to Dave and a minor issue he’d encountered. “I can talk to the Procurement Manager, if you’d like. I’ve got a good relationship with him, and I’m sure we can sort this out quickly,” I said.

  “Actually, Kate, that’d be a great opportunity for Colin to get his feet wet. Don’t you agree?” Adam nodded to Dave
. “Rather than sorting it out over the phone, why don’t you both go down to London and meet them, face to face? You could stay at the new Plaza hotel. ComCo gets preferential rates.”

  Dave’s face lit up, and he looked at me eagerly.

  “This is something we can fix with a ten-minute call, Adam,” I said. “It’s not cost effective to send two people to London, especially with an overnight stay.”

  My boss raised one eyebrow, and then smirked. “According to your mandate, every member of your team is supposed to meet their primary customer contact. How is Dave supposed to do that, when Fenworthy is based in London?”

  Unease rippled down my spine. “I’m not saying Dave doesn’t get to meet them. I’m just querying the validity of this trip, for this reason.”

  “Hmm.” Adam rocked his chair back, to lean against the wall. “Colin has a separate budget to the Call Center. How about he picks up the tab this time? And if he’s paying, Dave may as well stay for a couple of days and tour the other London-based accounts.” He grinned at my employee. “What do you say, Dave?”

  “Yes, please.” Dave flashed a guilty look at me, but I could see how excited he was.

  Damn it. I needed Dave in the office, to help train one of the newbies, and now he’d be out for several days.

  A loud snort of laughter erupted from Colin, and I glared at him. “Sorry,” he said and gestured with his hands. “Please, carry on.”

  It’d be easier working in a zoo.

  This feeling intensified when some of the ComCo Account Managers drifted in to gather around Adam and Colin, and began chattering noisily.

  I abandoned the agenda and stood. “I think we can say the meeting is over. Anyone want another drink before I go?”