Better Together

by Annalisa Carr

  “What is going on?” Aiden asked. “You’re being frightfully vague. And why’ve you cut Francesca out of the loop. She’s really pissed off.”

  “Can’t be helped,” William said. “She’ll get over it. She’s too embedded in the company, and her fiancé’s deep in the management structure. She’s not an unbiased observer.”

  “You can’t really think Francesca would . . .” He didn’t finish as he had no idea why his father wasn’t trusting Francesca with the information. “Why are you really concerned?”

  “I don’t know what to say.” His father scratched his head. “Embezzlement? Fraud? Something doesn’t add up. I’ve stepped back in this last year or two and left more to my senior management team. I’m still sharp enough to see when something’s not right though. And something definitely isn’t right.”

  “What made you think—?”

  “I’m not stupid.” William’s voice rose. He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t get excited. The doctor said to avoid stress. How the hell am I supposed to do that? Life’s all stress.” He put his cup down with care. “It started with one of the junior accountants. He found something odd in the order records. I don’t know why he didn’t talk to his own manager, but he brought it to me. I had a quick look, and the figures don’t add up. I checked and it was the same for several of the recent contracts.” He stared at the table. “I know something’s wrong.”

  “Mmm.” Aiden considered. Marlowe Developments was a big company, with subsidiaries, an international division, and so on. “Have you thought about external auditors?”

  William picked up his drink, pulled a face, and put the cup down again. “I want to know what they’re likely to uncover first. Before I go stirring things up.”

  “Father—”

  “Aiden, this is a big business, and I can’t take a personal interest in the whole place. Something’s wrong. I want you to find out what it is.”

  “Just like that?” Aiden took a sip of his cooling coffee. Who does he think I am? James bloody Bond?

  “You can have my office. Do the CEO’s job. Elaine can show you anything you need to know. The senior management team really run the place.”

  If that was the case, then Aiden didn’t have a clue how he was supposed to track down any wrongness that his father might or might not have imagined. He dragged one hand through his hair. Loretta was right; it really needed cutting, and he still hadn’t had time.

  “It’s only for a short while. You’ve never done anything for the family before, and it’s time you faced up to your responsibilities. I’m begging you. Put your family first for once.” William’s voice rose.

  Aiden tugged on his hair. It was a business, for goodness sake; not a living thing, but he studied his father’s rapidly flushing face with apprehension. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll stay until you’ve recovered or until I’ve got to the bottom of whatever’s going on.”

  His father relaxed, sagging back into his chair. “I knew I could rely on you.”

  Aiden grunted. “And why couldn’t we talk about it at home? We could have done this last weekend. Why did you drag yourself into London?”

  William looked sheepish; it was a look that was unfamiliar and didn’t suit his features at all. “I wanted to get out of the house for a while,” he said. “Your mother’s fussing around, telling me what to do. I don’t know what’s wrong with the woman, but I don’t like it. I wish she’d go back to ignoring me.”

  “Come on.” Aiden stood up. “Let’s get you home.”

  “I’ve a driver waiting.” William swallowed the dregs of his tea and set the cup aside. “Elaine organised it. She’s almost as bad as your mother.”

  ~ ~ ~

  After Tallulah untangled herself from the sex god who’d bumped into her, she slowly walked to the entrance, peering back to get another look. It was the man she’d seen a week earlier, and she’d been right. He was hot.

  Who on earth is he? she wondered.

  His clothes were a bit more suited to the building than they’d been the last time she’d seen him. He wore a light jacket with an open-necked shirt, but his hair was still messy, and he looked as though he was overdue for a shave. She caught a last glimpse of him as the automatic doors slid closed behind her, his height making him easy to spot amongst the people milling around in the reception area. His face was perfect, all planes and angles, his thick dark eyebrows slanting up and giving him a satanic look. She’d always associated brown eyes with lazy sensuality, but there was nothing lazy about his expression. His stare was sharp as a knife, and she’d definitely caught him checking her out.

  His body had felt solid against hers as he’d steadied her. She’d felt his muscles as he’d slammed into her. She wiped one hand across her face as she met the moist heat of the street. I need to stop thinking like this. Lusting after a perfect stranger who‘s probably a complete bastard is not a good idea. Most good-looking men were, in her opinion and, going by her experiences in short-term jobs, she should know better. Maybe there was more of her mother in her than she thought. Anyway, she wasn’t in the market for a lover; they took up too much time and emotional energy.

  “Hey, Tallulah?” Cathryn waved at her from the bottom of the steps. “We’re going for a drink. You want to come?”

  She looked at her watch. The buses would be packed, and there was no way she was venturing into the hell of the tube system. She would fry or simmer, and even the thought of how bad it would smell had her wrinkling her nose.

  “Come on. Make up your mind.” Cathryn folded her arms.

  Tallulah rarely socialised at her workplaces. She didn’t like Cathryn much either. Still . . .

  “Okay. Just one drink though. I’m clubbing later, and I need to go home first.

  Cathryn fell into step with her, slipping an arm through hers. “Where are you going?”

  Tallulah fought the urge to shake her off, figuring it would be rude. “Probably Wisp in Camden.” She liked the music there as did a couple of her fellow tenants, as well as a few people from her art-degree course. Friday nights were fairly regular for them; dancing was a way of relaxing and letting off steam after a busy week.

  “We might come along later,” Cathryn said. “We could meet you there.”

  “Do,” Tallulah said. She couldn’t hide the lack of enthusiasm in her voice, but Cathryn didn’t seem to notice; anyway, even a week had given Tallulah an insight into her colleague’s character. She was very unlikely to turn up.

  After one beer with the work crowd, in a wine bar close to St Paul’s cathedral, Tallulah jumped onto a bus that would take her back to King’s Cross. She got off the bus at the mainline station and turned down Pentonville Road. Her most recent home was the best location she’d ever lived in. There was no way she could afford to live in central London under normal circumstances, but she’d become a guardian, working for an international property management company. If any of their buildings were empty, rather than employ a security firm to look after them, they made a few basic alterations and let rooms to carefully vetted tenants for a small fee. Of course, the quality of accommodation on offer could be questionable, but it was cheap, and Tallulah didn’t need much.

  Her present residence was a disused Arts Centre just off Pentonville Road. It was a Victorian building that had once been a fire station, and Tallulah had a large room on the third floor. It was thirty feet square, full of natural light, one wall consisting of floor to ceiling windows. She suspected it had spent some time as a dance studio, as the opposite wall was mirrored and had a wooden bar along it. Five other people lived in the building, most of them struggling artists like herself.

  As she approached the steps that led up to the double wooden doors, she spotted a familiar figure sitting on the top step, hands in the pockets of his jeans and long legs stretched out in front of him.r />
  “Kyle?”

  “Where have you been?” He leapt to his feet with the jerky energy of a teenager. “I’ve been waiting for ages. This bloke came along, but he wouldn’t let me in.”

  “I wonder why not.” Tallulah rolled her eyes. The company that owned ‘The Old Fire Station’ placed a heavy emphasis on security. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve run away.” Kyle gave her a huge grin as he ran one hand through his mop of dusty brown corkscrew curls.

  “From what?” Tallulah hoisted her bag further onto her shoulder.

  “Look Sis? Can we go in? I’m dying of heat exhaustion out here. I’ve been waiting two hours for you.”

  Tallulah glanced at her watch. It was only seven o’clock. “You should have called.” She pulled her cardkey out of her bag and held it up to the reader. When the green light flashed, she turned the handle on the door and pushed it open. Kyle followed her up six flights of wooden stairs to the third floor, where she used her cardkey again and, walking through the door, tossed her bag onto the floor.

  “Have a seat.” She scooped a pile of fabric off the sofa and dropped it onto the table by the window.

  Kyle collapsed into the corner of the sofa with a dramatic sigh.

  “Do you want some tea?”

  “Have you got a beer?”

  Tallulah glared at her seventeen-year-old half-brother, who gave her an angelic smile. She relented and opened the door of the small fridge, pulling out a couple of bottles and opening them before passing one to Kyle. “Here.” She sat at the other end of the sofa and inspected him.

  He ignored her and tilted the bottle to take a long gulp from it.

  “So?” She shifted sideways and kicked him with the tip of her foot. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I did. I’ve run away.”

  “But why? Tell me, or I’ll empty this bottle over you.”

  Kyle had a pretty good deal with his foster family. He was well fed, well treated, given more pocket money than was good for him (at least in Tallulah’s opinion), so what the hell was the problem?

  “They kept getting in my face.” Kyle scowled. “They never stopped going on at me.”

  Tallulah doubted that. “What about?”

  “They want me to go to university.” Kyle made a loud groaning noise.

  “You don’t want to?” Tallulah could understand that. “I suppose it means getting into debt.”

  He stared at his beer bottle. “They said they’d pay.”

  “What?” Tallulah almost screamed. “Where’s the problem then?”

  “Dunno.” Kyle sank further into the sofa, sounding like a sulky two-year-old. “I don’t feel right about it. Anyway, I don’t know what I want to do.”

  Tallulah wished someone had offered to pay for her education, but she knew from long experience that there was no point in nagging Kyle. Even as a small child, he’d been stubborn, doing exactly what he wanted, in his own way and his own time.

  After a moment, he twisted sideways and nudged her leg with his foot. “Can I stay for a while?”

  “There’s only one bed.”

  “I can sleep on the sofa. It’s big enough.” Kyle was already over six feet of ganglyness, but he was right; the chesterfield was huge. She’d bought it for £25 from a free ad newspaper, and it was a great buy.

  “I suppose so.” She didn’t want Kyle taking to the streets. It was bad enough that she’d lost track of Mia for a year, and she hated to think what her baby sister had been through. “But you’ve got to phone your foster parents.” They were well meaning and didn’t deserve the worry.

  Kyle groaned.

  “And you’ve got to think about what you want to do next.”

  He slumped lower on the sofa.

  “I’m going to have a shower. I’m going out tonight.” Part of Tallulah thought she ought to stay with her brother, but she squashed it. She’d spent most of her childhood worrying about her younger siblings. Enough was enough, she told herself, and she didn’t need to babysit them any longer.

  “Can I come?” Kyle dropped his beer bottle on the floor.

  “No. You’re not eighteen.”

  Chapter 5

  I want to be back in New York.

  Aiden stared out the window as a nursing assistant unpacked his father’s bag, and his parents bickered at each other. Their low-level quarrel had gone on all weekend, and as far as Aiden could tell, it was about nothing in particular. They’d nagged at him as well; his father making unsubtle digs about his decision to live in New York, and his mother complaining about his single lifestyle.

  How does Francesca put up with it? he wondered. Francesca had been hostile too, making it plain she resented his presence in the company, and Gareth was just Gareth. Slimy. At least his father was settling into his private hospital room. The operation was scheduled for the following day, and William had a day of tests and starvation ahead of him.

  “Aiden.” His father’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “I want you to keep a personal eye on the Essex development. It’s very prestigious and—”

  “That’s my project.” Francesca’s voice held an unfamiliar note of fury.

  “Take your mind off your work for once,” his mother snapped.

  William Marlowe ignored both of them and focussed on Aiden. “It’s the most important—”

  “Stop it.” His mother stamped one foot on the polished parquet floor.

  “I realise that,” Aiden said. “I should—”

  “Don’t encourage him.” His mother folded her arms and glared at him. “It’s your problem now.”

  “Father,” Francesca interrupted, “I think you should—”

  “And you can stop it as well,” her mother said.

  “I’d better go.” Aiden pushed an annoying lock of hair away from his face and left the room while the other three carried on arguing. He disturbed two nurses who loitered outside the door, looking bored and impatient, and trying not to eavesdrop.

  “Just go in,” he said. “They’ll carry on for hours if you don’t.” He nodded at them and walked to the taxi waiting in the drive.

  He arrived at the office at twelve noon.

  The receptionist glanced up as he strode through the automatic doors and into Marlowe’s foyer. “Good afternoon, Mr Marlowe.”

  He smiled at her but kept walking towards the lifts, letting his gaze travel over the reception area as he wondered idly if he would see the fairy again. I need something to cheer me up. Does she even work here?

  The lifts were both at the top of the building so, rather than wait, he ran up the stairs to the seventh floor and his new office.

  Elaine sat behind her empty desk in the outer office, talking to a young man who leaned one hip on the corner as he listened to her. Aiden nodded at them both and strode through into the CEO’s inner sanctum, which felt deserted and much larger in the absence of his father. The office suited his father, but the old-fashioned opulent décor gave Aiden claustrophobia. The window was too small and looked out across the street to another high-rise office block. He hung the jacket of his linen suit on the coat stand and sat down behind his father’s desk to check his emails. It was probably still too early to ring New York; even Loretta wouldn’t be at her desk yet.

  He logged on and was scrolling through his mail when the door opened again and Elaine walked through.

  For fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t she knock? He frowned at her.

  She frowned back. “Mr Marlowe? I need to speak to you.” She sat in the chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs and letting one high-heeled shoe dangle from her foot. For a woman who must be in her fifties, she had superb legs.

  He dragged his attention to her face. “We should talk about—”r />
  She interrupted. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve handed in my resignation.”

  “What? Why?” If Elaine left, his job would instantly become a hundred times more difficult. “Does my father know?”

  “Not yet. I don’t want to worry him until he’s feeling better. I hope you won’t tell him either.” Her pale grey eyes met his.

  “Elaine?” Aiden gave her a pleading look, quelling the urge to shout at her. “Won’t you reconsider? Just until my father comes back?”

  “I’ve stayed here for years because of your father.” She inspected the glossy ruby red varnish on her nails and rubbed an invisible smear from her thumbnail. Her ash blonde hair swung against her cheek. “My guess is he’ll decide not to come back at all. I’ll be leaving on Friday, but as a favour to William, I’ll spend the rest of this week working with my replacement.”

  Aiden clenched his jaw. His father had called her the perfect assistant, loyal and efficient, but her resignation wasn’t his idea of loyalty. However, there was no point in arguing with her; he had the feeling she would welcome the opportunity to give him a put-down. He had no idea why. What the hell does Father see in her? He couldn’t understand it. “Your replacement?”

  Elaine pushed herself to her feet, and walking to the door, opened it. “Davy? Can you come through for a moment?”

  The young man sauntered into the office. He looked to be in his early twenties, his skin was smooth, his hair was fashionably cut, and he wore a perfectly tailored business suit. Aiden stared at him until he shifted nervously and leaned over the desk, holding out his hand. “I’m Davy Tollington-Rees. It’s an honour to be given this opportunity.”

  After a moment, Aiden clasped it briefly. It wasn’t fair to make a judgement just because he was annoyed with Elaine.

  “David’s mother knows your mother, so he’s almost family.” There was a note of malice in Elaine’s voice.