Waiting for Mr. Wonderful!

by Stephanie Howard

  Georgia was holding her breath. ‘So, what was he doing here? What had he come to see you about?’

  ‘A number of things.’

  She was almost choking. Why couldn’t he just answer her original question? Why was he torturing her? Why so mysterious?

  Before he could utter another word, she clenched her fists and demanded, ‘Just tell me one thing. Do you work for Duval or not?’

  He took an instant to answer and in that instant she died a thousand times. Then he said, very quietly, ‘No, I don’t. Not any more.’

  ‘But you did?’

  She felt sick. The thing she’d most dreaded was true.

  Again, he waited a moment before answering. He leaned forward in his seat. ‘Yes, I’m afraid I did. But not in the way that you imagine.’

  ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ Her stomach was churning. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this in the beginning?’

  ‘Because I couldn’t.’ He paused, his eyes scouring her face. ‘The truth is I acted as Duval’s lawyer for a while.’

  For a moment, Georgia just stared at him. What was he saying? ‘A lawyer?’ She pulled herself up in her chair to face him. ‘I thought you told me you were a businessman?’

  ‘I’m that as well. I run several businesses of my own. But, principally, I’m a lawyer by profession.’

  ‘Duval’s lawyer.’ Her stomach had turned to lead. ‘Were you working with him on the takeover?’

  ‘No. I was no longer acting for him by then. Our association, in fact, was exceedingly brief. I discovered very quickly that he was a liar and a cheat and that he was involving my company in a number of ventures which I considered to be deeply unethical. That made me mad. My firm’s reputation is important to me and this man was placing it in serious danger. So I severed our relationship and decided to put a stop to him.’

  As he reached for his glass and took another mouthful of his whisky, Georgia was struggling to pull her thoughts together. It was all too bizarre. He had more secrets than the Sphinx!

  ‘I don’t understand. Why couldn’t you tell me this before?’

  Jean-Claude put down his whisky glass. ‘I shouldn’t even be telling you now. If this got any further, I could end up in a lot of trouble. But I want to tell you. I’ve been wanting to for a long time.’

  He sighed. ‘You see, the situation’s become rather complex and nasty, as situations tend to do when our friend Duval’s involved. I told him I was going after him, which was probably a mistake, and he responded by threatening to go after me. He’s trying to get me for malpractice and, though there’s no legitimate case, Duval’s an expert at inventing evidence. He knows I’m aware that he can make my life extremely difficult and he’s banking that that will persuade me to back’off.

  ‘I’ve been allowing him to think that, just to get him out of my hair, but it seems that, after all, his colleague did see us leaving the restaurant the other day, put two and two together and reported it to Duval. So this afternoon Duval waylaid me down in the hall and started making threatening noises again.’

  Georgia’s instincts were telling her that every word of this was true. She peered at him. ‘OK. But you still haven’t explained why you weren’t able to tell me this before.’

  He smiled. ‘You’re right, but I was coming to that bit.’ He leaned towards her. ‘Like I said, things have escalated. All sorts of tangled legalities are involved now. The whole thing’s complicated by the fact that I was briefly Duval’s lawyer and by the fact that he’s bringing this malpractice suit against me. Without going into all the details, I’ve been required to take an oath that I will not discuss the case I’m making against him with anyone who has even marginal business links with him. Because of the takeover bid, that includes you.

  ‘So, though it was perfectly legitimate for me to approach you to try and get information to support my case, it would not have been legitimate for me to tell you what I was doing.’ He sighed, sat back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘The legal world, believe me, is a highly tricky place.’

  ‘Machiavellian, I’d say.’

  ‘It can be a nightmare even for the expert.’ Something shifted in his eyes. He sat forward again to look at her. ‘I’ve hated having to deceive you. That truly has been a nightmare. Please believe me, Georgia. I wanted to tell you.’

  Georgia looked back at him without responding for a moment Maybe he had and maybe he hadn’t, though she did believe the rest of what he’d just told her. She didn’t fully understand it, but what ordinary mortal could pretend to understand the intricate workings of the law? Still, she’d got the general gist and that was enough.

  So far, so good. But there was more to it than that, and there were still some things she was having a great deal of difficulty taking on board.

  Quite unconsciously adopting the opposite body language to his, she sat back in her seat, widening the gap between them.

  ‘OK, I accept that you couldn’t tell me about Duval... But surely you could at least have told me you were a lawyer?’ There was a taut edge to her voice. ‘You didn’t need to lie about that.’

  Jean-Claude continued to lean towards her. His eyes searched her face. ‘You’re right. Strictly speaking, I didn’t need to lie about that. I could have gone ahead and told you I was a lawyer. But you were so suspicious of me in the beginning, and you thought I was mixed up with Duval anyway. If I’d told you I was a lawyer, you’d have jumped to the conclusion that I was involved in the takeover bid and working for him. And we would have got nowhere. So I decided to keep quiet.’

  ‘To lie, you mean.’

  ‘I told you I was a businessman, and that’s true.’ He sighed. ‘I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.’

  ‘And to you that isn’t lying?’

  ‘Not technically. It’s evasion.’

  ‘In my book, evasion’s lying. It comes to the same thing.’ She could hear her voice rising, feel her composure starting to slip. ‘I should have known you were a lawyer. You talk like one, you argue like one. And, like all lawyers, you just bend things to suit the argument you’re trying to win.’

  She paused to snatch a breath as all the emotion suppressed inside her seemed suddenly about to bubble out of her, like lava from a volcano.

  ‘How can you sit there and play with words? How can you argue that you didn’t lie to me? I trusted you. I believed you. And right from the start you were playing a game with me. Of course you lied! You didn’t even tell me who you really were! You lied to me every time you opened your mouth!’

  ‘Georgia! For heaven’s sake...! That’s not true!’

  He was springing to his feet with a look of concern—though that was probably as much a lie as everything else. And Georgia knew what was in his head. He was about to come over and take hold of her. And she didn’t want that to happen. She wasn’t ready for that yet. She needed time. To be left alone. To sort out the muddle in her head.

  ‘No!’

  As he stepped towards her, she held up her hand. But, of course, he didn’t listen. He just kept on coming.

  ‘No!’ she cried again. Then, on an impulse, she leaned forward, picked up her untouched whisky glass and threw the contents in his face.

  He stopped short as though burned and just stood there for a moment. It was impossible to read his expression. Then he reached into his pocket, took out a clean, folded handkerchief and wiped the whisky from his face without a word. When he’d finished, he tossed the handkerchief aside.

  Georgia watched every move, feeling her heart beat like a hammer. She wasn’t sorry she’d done it. Somehow, she’d had to stop him. If she’d allowed him to take hold of her, she would have been lost, in his power. Instantly, she’d have forgiven him and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to be hurried. She needed a little time.

  At last, he spoke.

  ‘I’ve done my best to explain things. I’ve told you I’m sorry and I can assure you I am. I wish it had been possible to tell
you the truth from the beginning. I’ve broken my oath and confessed to you now partly because I feel I owe it to you, but mostly just because I’m sick of deceiving you.’

  When she said nothing, quite simply because she could think of nothing to say, he dropped his gaze from hers and took a step away.

  ‘Look, I have to go out now.’ He was looking at his watch. ‘I was supposed to be meeting a client at six, when you arrived, and I really have no choice but to go and see him now. But why don’t you stay here instead of catching that flight?’ He was glancing across at her again and his expression had softened. ‘I’m afraid there’s no way I can drive you to the airport now, and anyway I think it’s important that you and I have a talk. If I cancel my dinner appointment, I should be able to get back at a reasonable hour.’

  ‘Don’t bother doing that. I’d prefer just to leave, thanks.’

  She didn’t want to talk. All she wanted was to escape. Right now, she wasn’t thinking straight and there was no way she’d be able to do so till she was out of here, away from him and everything connected with him. Every time she looked at him her head began to spin.

  ‘I can take a taxi,’ she told him. She preferred that solution anyway.

  ‘You’re quite sure that’s what you want?’

  ‘Yes, I’m quite sure.’ She stood up. ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t mind calling one now?’

  Jean-Claude didn’t insist. He just did as she wished, then, in spite of her protests that it really wasn’t necessary, accompanied her downstairs when, ten minutes later, the cab arrived.

  Georgia climbed in without a word, clutching her holdall. Escape at last. She couldn’t wait to be gone. And she barely even glanced at him as he told her, ‘I’m sorry you’re leaving like this.’ She just tapped on the glass to tell the driver to get going and didn’t even bother to wish Jean-Claude goodbye.

  ‘Merci, mademoiselle. Et bon voyage.’

  The taxi driver had set her down outside Departures at the airport and Georgia had just handed him a rather generous tip, annoyed. that this was her only contribution to the cost of the journey. Jean-Claude, it seemed, had an account with the taxi company and had already arranged for the bill to be put on his tab.

  Did he always have to be in control, even of her flight from him? Lying, controlling, odious man!

  She made her way to the check-in desk and joined the queue. In the course of the taxi ride, she’d calmed down a little. Huddled in the back seat, staring blindly out the window, she’d felt the tension in her slacken and her heartbeat begin to slow. Her stomach still felt as though she’d swallowed a lump of lead, but her brain was no longer about to explode.

  How could he have lied to her? How could he? How could he? How could he have kept up that deceitful charade? She’d fallen in love with him and she hadn’t even known who he really was!

  The couple in front of her had reached the check-in desk and were piling their bags onto the weighing machine. We ought to talk, he’d said. Well, she didn’t want to talk. What was there to talk about? He’d deceived her and that was that. She was wise to be turning her back on the whole thing.

  With a jerk, the conveyor belt was carrying off the couple’s bags and now it was Georgia’s turn to step up to the desk. The check-in girl smiled at her. ‘Good evening. May I see your ticket, please?’ Georgia nodded, about to hand it to her, but then suddenly she stopped.

  Was she really being wise? Or was she making a big mistake? For a moment, she just stood there, her brain whirring in her head. Then something seemed to click. Abruptly, she stepped back, her hand tightening its grip around the handle of her holdall.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a surprisingly calm voice, ‘but I’ve changed my mind. I’m not leaving, after all.’

  And she turned on her heel and headed back the way she’d come, totally oblivious of the looks of amused astonishment that followed her till she disappeared through the electric doors to the taxi rank.

  Georgia dropped her bag in the hall and went through to the sitting room. She was going to have a long wait, of course, for Jean-Claude wouldn’t have cancelled his dinner appointment, after all, and probably wouldn’t be back till much before midnight. But she didn’t mind waiting and it was wonderful to be back, anyway. She sank onto one of the sofas, kicking off her shoes, and fell back gratefully against the big, soft cushions.

  She’d done the right thing. She had no doubts about that at all. Of course they had to talk. That was important, just as he’d said. But, all the same, the more she thought about it, the less she felt inclined to demand any more explanations from him.

  He’d already explained. And, if it hadn’t all been such a shock, she’d have realised at the time that it was perfectly true that he’d had no choice but to keep her in the dark. An oath was an oath. And, just as he’d said, if he’d told her he was a lawyer, she’d have suspected the Duval connection at once. Duval and lawyers were inextricably linked in her brain.

  No, he’d been morally obliged to do what he’d done and it was totally wrong of her to blame him. If anything, she ought to be flattered that in the end he’d told her everything. He’d only have done that, surely, if he cared for her and trusted her?

  When he got back, she’d apologise for running out on him in a tizz and she knew he wouldn’t mind that she’d persuaded the doorman, slightly against his bet ter judgement, to let her into the flat. She was only, if a little belatedly, doing as Jean-Claude had wished, for he’d wanted her to wait for him.

  Georgia lay stretched out on the sofa, just feeling happy, for a long time. Then, a little before ten, as hunger pangs began to strike, she padded through to the kitchen, took some cheese from the fridge and ate it at the kitchen table with a chunk of bread and some red wine.

  She switched on the TV, but there was really nothing that took her fancy. So she went through to the bedroom, had a shower, found a book—there were several in English in the little bookcase and, wearing nothing but a contented smile, climbed into bed.

  This time, she’d wait for him in the bed rather than on it! She couldn’t wait to see his face when he walked through the door.

  It was impossible to stay awake, though. After only a couple of pages, she could feel her eyelids starting to droop. She laid the book aside and leaned back against the pillows, stretching her legs beneath the scented linen sheets. I’ll just drop off for a few minutes, she thought. I’m bound to hear him arrive. If I don’t hear the front door, his footsteps down the corridor will wake me.

  But the next thing she knew someone was climbing into bed beside her, a pair of arms was reaching out for her, a pair of warm lips kissing her and a deep, familiar voice was murmuring in her ear, ‘Georgia, mon amour... What a wonderful surprise.’

  Jean-Claude lay on his back, staring into the darkness, his sense of physical satisfaction vying with the unease in his heart.

  There was nothing else he could have done. He wasn’t made of steel. When he’d walked into the bedroom and seen her lying there in bed, the desire that had taken hold of him had been far too fierce to fight. Yet, of course, it had been a major mistake.

  He sighed. It was a mess and the fault was entirely his. This evening’s little showdown had been the perfect opportunity to end things between them, then just turn round and walk away. But what had he done instead? Unable to bear her hurt, he’d tried to explain things to her, even asked her to stay. Then he’d come home and made love to her, even though he knew he shouldn’t What, for heaven’s sake, was going on in his head?

  He was crazy. Just not thinking straight. And now he’d simply made things worse. For, even though he’d finally confessed all his secrets and there was no more deception of that kind between them, the deception he was committing now was possibly far worse.

  Their relationship was going nowhere. He knew that. She didn’t. Inevitably and before too long, it would all end in tears.

  As he lay there, she moved against him and automatically he reached out and slipped an arm aro
und her waist, feeling his heart stir with pleasure that turned instantly to guilt. She deserved so much better. If only he could give it to her. But he knew from past experience that things didn’t work out that way. Inwardly, he cursed himself. He should have kept out of her life.

  Careful not to wake her, he curled up against her, drinking in the sweet, warm scent of her flesh. He would work out a way to leave her without hurting her, for the thought of causing her pain was like a weight crushing his soul.

  Softly, he kissed her shoulder. tit find a way to do what’s best for you,’ he vowed silently. ‘And, in the meantime, I have no choice but to go along with this thing. It’s stronger than I am. At least, for the moment. And, for as long as it lasts, I’ll do my best to make you happy.’

  He laid his cheek against her skin and at last closed his eyes, a little surprised at the strength of the relief inside him that he would not have to say goodbye to her immediately, after all.

  ‘You’re giving me a bad name! What do you mean by suggesting I ought to consider a career as a cat burglar?’

  Jean-Claude nuzzled against her, kissing the hollow of her throat. ‘Well, you’ve got to admit you definitely have a talent for breaking into locked rooms.’

  Georgia giggled and hugged him. ‘I’ve already told you I didn’t break into your hotel room in Bath. It was all perfectly innocent. The maid let me in. And I didn’t break in here, either. I persuaded the porter to let me in.’

  ‘I’m very glad you did.’ He kissed her again. ‘When I walked into the room and saw you curled up, fast asleep, I thought the good fairy must have been listening to my prayers.’

  It was the following morning, and they were lying in bed sharing the pot of coffee and plate of warm croissants that Jean-Claude had brought through on a tray just a short while ago.

  ‘Don’t you move,’ he’d told Georgia when she’d been about to get up and go through with him to the kitchen to fetch them. ‘When I qet back I want to find you lying there in bed. It’s a sight I’m beginning to develop quite a taste for.’