Grateful I had something to do, I wandered into the bedroom. But instead of opening my underwear drawer, I found myself lying down on the bed instead, found myself pulling Max's pillow to me and inhaling deeply and wondering whether I could maybe not tell him after all, whether I could maybe instead convince him to leave the country with me, move somewhere like Mexico, where we could live off Grace's inheritance, just eking out a simple existence, living on the beach, never having to worry about Hugh, or Chester, or Anthony ever again …
“Jess? Jess, are you awake?” I woke with a start to find Max leaning over me. “Jess darling, you've been asleep for hours, but Chester's here and he wants to see you.”
I sat bolt upright. “Chester's … here?”
Max nodded. “Don't worry, you take your time,” he said tenderly. “And I'm sorry about earlier. How awkward it was with Anthony. I'm going to resign in the morning. Clean break.”
“You can't resign!” I said, jumping off the bed and swaying slightly—I felt slightly dizzy, felt heavy, felt fuzzy-headed. I looked at my watch—it was early evening. “What time did you get back here?”
“About four o'clock. I found you here asleep. You looked so peaceful.”
“I did?” I asked doubtfully. I didn't feel peaceful. Chester was here; he must have read my letter. Presumably he hadn't told Max what it said, because if he had, Max wouldn't be looking at me all doe-eyed. Which meant that I had a few minutes before everything exploded. But a few minutes wasn't enough to explain; a few minutes wasn't enough time for anything. “Max, listen,” I asked, looking at him intently. “Chester didn't say anything, did he? About why he's here?”
Max shook his head.
“Okay. So will you give me a hug? Please? Before I … Just one last hug?”
He looked at me strangely. “One last hug? No, I won't. I'll give you a hug though, if you want one.” He pulled me close and I could feel him breathing into my neck.
“Thanks,” I whispered. Then I pulled away, stood up, and straightened my hair. “Okay, I'm ready,” I said. “I love you, Max.”
“I love you, too,” he said, standing up. “I know things are difficult now, but I do love you. Truly.”
“You do now,” I said quietly, then forced a smile onto my face. “So, Chester,” I said. “Let's go find Chester.”
Chester was in the kitchen, grim-faced, nursing a glass of whiskey that Max had evidently, and sensibly in my opinion, given him.
“Chester,” I said, my voice wobbling slightly. “It's good to see you.” I took a deep breath, unsure whether to immediately launch into an apology or whether to wait and follow his lead.
“Yeah,” Chester said, putting his glass down. “Yeah.”
“Shall we … go to the sitting room?” Max suggested, holding out his arm in the room's direction. I nodded and we followed his lead. My legs felt unsteady beneath me; I couldn't get to a chair fast enough.
“So,” Chester said when we were all seated. “I guess there are some things we need to talk about, Jess.”
I nodded, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I guess there are. But before we do, I need you to know that I didn't mean any of this to happen. I was so excited to be working on your account; you know that. It was a stupid thing, a thoughtless, stupid, drunken moment and I never thought … Well, that was it, wasn't it? I didn't think at all, did I? I was thoughtless, in fact. And, you know, stupid.”
Chester was looking at me strangely. “Yeah, well, I don't know about that. But I guess why I'm here is that we need to find a way forward. Don't we?”
“Absolutely.” I nodded. “And I think the best thing would be if I resign.”
“Resign? Jess, what are you talking about?” Max interjected, staring at me in disbelief. “You can't resign. You can't.”
“You were talking about resigning,” I said pointedly. “I'm just saying that I will instead. Then everything will be back to normal.”
Chester was frowning. “It will? I don't see how your resigning will really change anything.”
“Oh, but it will,” I said immediately. “I'll be out of the picture. Forgotten. You can go back to Milton Advertising. You have to, Chester, you really do.”
“Go back?” Chester shook his head. “Look, Jess, I don't know what kind of stunt you're pulling here, but I'm not changing my decision on taking the account away from Milton Advertising just on account of a few celebrities. That's not the way we do business at Jarvis Private Banking. We value integrity there. We believe in trust.”
The doorbell rang and Max left the room to answer it.
“But that's just it,” I said levelly turning to Chester, willing him to agree with me. “With me gone, you can trust Milton Advertising again.”
“How?” Chester demanded. “How, when we were so let down? How can I trust Max ever again? And why should I?”
“Why?” I asked uncertainly. “Because it wasn't him that broke your trust. Because it's like I said in my letter—it was me. I'm the one who told Hugh Barter. Not on purpose, I mean, God, I'd never have done it on purpose, but I did and now I'm resigning and so … and so …”
Chester was looking at me strangely. “What letter?” he asked.
I frowned. “The letter I wrote you. The reason you're here.”
“The reason I'm here is that no celebrity worth their salt will go near our campaign,” Chester said sternly. “The reason I'm here is to appeal to your better nature. But if you're saying that you're the one who broke the nondisclosure, well, that changes things, doesn't it?”
“You?” I turned to see Max in the doorway, ashen-faced. “It was you?”
It felt like physical pain, like a knife wound; I couldn't look at him, couldn't watch him fall out of love with me. “Yes, it was me,” I said, my voice strangled suddenly, as though my throat were constricting to keep the truth inside me. “I was with Hugh Barter, the night … the night when I thought you were having an affair. I was drunk. I was angry with you. And I … I told him.”
“You were with Hugh Barter? What, in the biblical sense?” Max attempted a laugh, which turned very hollow when he saw my expression.
“I …,” I said. “Yes, I was.”
“And what exactly did you tell him?” Chester asked, his voice brittle. “Tell me what you said.”
“That you were buying an Internet bank. That we were going to be getting loads more business,” I said. My chest was constricting and the walls were closing in on me, and all I could see were Max's eyes staring at me in confusion.
“No,” he was saying. “No, Jess. It couldn't have been. Not you.”
“Yes,” I said hopelessly. “It was. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking, that was the point. I …” I looked at him desperately, hoping that he might find it in his heart to forgive me, to understand, to realize that it was just a stupid, stupid mistake. But his eyes moved away, his face frozen, and I knew that I'd lost him.
“So it was definitely Hugh that leaked it to the press?” Chester asked, standing up. “It was him who contacted Advertising Today?”
I nodded. Behind him, I saw Max sitting down, his expression one of complete shock. “Of course it was him. You knew that.”
“I knew he'd given me his word it was nothing to do with him; that he'd just been asked for a quote as an industry expert.”
“And you believed him?” I looked at him incredulously. “You believed him and yet you didn't believe Max?”
Chester looked uncomfortable. “Max had let me down,” he muttered. “At least I thought he had.” Then he turned on me suddenly. “Anyway, you're one to talk. You cheat on your future husband, you leak information, and you're giving me a lecture? From where I'm standing it seems like all this is your fault, missy.”
“All whose fault, Chester dear?” I turned to the door to see my mother walk in. She looked around the room carefully.
“That was you? At the door? Why didn't someone tell me?” Chester
said, looking flustered now, his cheeks glowing red, beads of sweat on his forehead. “Why does no one tell me anything around here?”
“I'm sorry,” Max said, breaking his silence. “It was my fault. I let her in then … then …”
“I get it,” Chester said, immediately mollified. “Then Jess sprang her bombshell. No need to say more.”
“Bombshell? What bombshell? What did Jessica say?”
“I told them the truth,” I said, my voice shaking. “I was the leak. I … got drunk and I … well I was with Hugh and I told him about the merger. It was all my fault and no one else's. And now I'm going to go. I'm sorry, Chester. I'm sorry M …' I couldn't even say his name. Couldn't bear to.
“But that isn't the truth and you know it,” my mother said.
I stared at her uncertainly. “Yes it is.”
“No it isn't.”
I frowned. “Yes, it is,” I insisted.
“No.” She shot me a look I hadn't seen before—it was firmer, harder. “No, Jessica, I won't let you cover up for me anymore.”
“Cover up for you?” I had no idea what she was talking about. “I'm not. Look, Mum, just leave it, okay? This is over. I'm out of here. I've done enough damage, ruined enough lives, thank you.”
“But you didn't ruin anything,” my mother said, her voice quiet but insistent. “It was me, and you know it.”
“I do?” I was utterly confused now. “How?”
“Yeah, how?” Chester said, looking equally unsure of himself. “What are you talking about, Esther?”
“I'm talking about my stupid little dalliance with Hugh Barter,” she said, shooting Chester a look of remorse. “Darling, it was a moment of madness—he was a young man and I was flattered, I couldn't help myself. We flirted, I drank too much, I said too much …”
“You?” Chester's eyes widened. “What do you mean? You and Hugh Barter?”
“She's lying,” I said immediately. “Don't listen to her.”
“No, darling, they must listen to me.” She looked at me meaningfully. “I'm your mother and I won't have you taking a fall for me.”
I folded my arms. “You and Hugh Barter?” I deadpanned. “Right. Sure. So where did you two meet? Just bumped into each other in a bar, did you?”
She ignored me and turned to Chester. “You remember the first night you took me out? The day we met?”
Chester nodded silently. He was white, looked like he didn't even trust himself to speak.
“You went out the day you met?” I asked in surprise. “You didn't tell me.”
“I don't tell you everything, darling,” my mother said, then turned back to Chester. “You remember that Hugh Barter came up to you in the restaurant? Told you that if you ever needed a more strategic partner than Milton Advertising you should give him a call? He tried to give you his card, didn't he?”
Chester nodded again. “I wouldn't take it,” he said quietly.
“No.” My mother smiled. “No, you wouldn't. But he gave it to me later. On my way back from the ladies' room. He said that I was a vision. And I believed him, darling.”
“You … you and Hugh Barter?” Chester gasped. “For real?”
“It was one night,” my mother said, biting her lip. “You and I weren't serious yet. At least I didn't know … I wasn't sure of your intentions. He invited me back to his apartment in Kensington. He made me feel young again. I was stupid, Chester.”
“You slept with him?” Chester's voice was clipped all of a sudden, cold as ice. “You slept with him and then what—you betrayed my confidences? To that weasel?”
“No, she didn't,” I said, my eyes wide with confusion.
“Yes, I did.” My mother grabbed my hand. “This is my fault, Jessica, not yours. Max, Jessica was lying to cover up for me, but I can't let her do it. I can't. Chester, darling, he kept asking questions and I didn't think it was such a secret. I'd heard you talking on the phone about the deal. I didn't realize it was so important.”
“So it wasn't you? You didn't sleep with him? Oh Jess. Oh God.” Max fell backward against the wall.
“I'm so sorry, Chester,” my mother whispered, approaching him, her arms outstretched. “So very sorry.”
“Sorry?” Chester recoiled from her. “You're sorry? I don't believe you. I just don't believe you.”
“You shouldn't believe her,” I said, thoroughly confused. “She's lying. She has to be lying.”
I looked up at Max, his face, which seconds before had been flooded with relief. Now he was looking at me worriedly, fearfully. And yet I had to tell the truth. I didn't have a choice.
“Ask Hugh,” I said to Chester. “He'll tell you.”
“I'm gonna,” Chester said angrily. “I'm gonna ask him who it was and then I'm going to work out what I'm going to do to him. That little toad. That little …” He was jabbing at his mobile phone, and suddenly it was on speaker phone, the line ringing. I braced myself, felt my heart skip a beat.
“Hugh Barter speaking.”
Max's head shot up; the tension in the room was palpable.
“Hugh, it's Chester.” Somehow Chester managed to sound relaxed, jovial almost.
“Ah, Chester, great to hear from you. Now we've got some good news. Have you heard of a band called Bananarama?”
“Who?”
“Great band. Old band. But one of the former members has said that she might consider endorsing the handbag …”
“Hugh, cut the crap.” The ice returned. “You sold us out to Advertising Today, right?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Chester, I don't know who you've been talking to,” Hugh said eventually, “but …”
“Just tell me, yes or no, was it you who told Advertising Today about the takeover?”
There was another pause. Then “Yes.”
Chester nodded. “And who told you?”
It felt like my heart had stopped. Max's eyes were on me; Chester's were on my mother; my mother and I, meanwhile, were both staring at the phone like our lives depended on it.
“It was Esther Short. Your … your fiancée,” he said quietly. “I wanted to get close to you and I used her to do it. She didn't mean to blab.”
“And Jessica? She didn't tell you? You didn't sleep with her, too?”
“Jessica Wild? You must be joking. She passed out in a club and I let her sleep on my sofa, but nothing happened. God, no. I may have let her think … Look, I had some fun with her, that's all. Thought I'd make her sweat a bit. It was harmless.”
“Harmless?” Max went to grab the phone but Chester moved back.
“And Jess told you nothing?”
“Jess wasn't coherent enough to tell me anything. All she talked about was bloody Max Wainwright. She was incredibly dull, to be honest.”
Dull? I was dull? I'd never been so delighted to be insulted in my whole life. I was dull. I hadn't slept with Hugh. I hadn't told him anything.
I felt my eyes being drawn to my mother. She, on the other hand … I felt myself recoil. She'd known all this time and she hadn't said anything. She'd let Max suffer, let me suffer, and all to protect herself.
“Look, Chester, I am sorry,” Hugh was saying. “Things got a bit out of hand, to be honest.”
“Sorry?” Now it was Chester who turned ashen-faced. For a moment, he looked broken, like he wanted to slump onto the floor and stay there. But then he stood up. “You will be sorry,” he said into the phone before closing it. “And you will pack your things and leave my house,” he said to my mother, his voice low and angry. “You will go there now and you will be gone tonight. Do I make myself clear?”
My mother nodded. “Yes, darling. I'm sorry. I'm so …”
“I'm not your darling,” Chester said icily. “Just go.”
She got up immediately.
Max looked at me in confusion. “But I thought you hated your mother. Why were you trying to protect her?”
I felt my mother looking at me and I flinched slightly
. “I don't hate her,” I said uncertainly. “I …”
“We haven't always seen eye-to-eye,” my mother said, her eyes still on me. “But that doesn't mean we don't love each other. The mother-daughter bond is very strong, isn't it Jess?”
“It is?” I was utterly confused.
“I still can't believe it,” Max said, still looking slightly lost. He walked toward me, put his arms around me. “I knew it was impossible,” he said into my neck. “I knew you'd never … But you were so convincing. And you did all that for your mother? I just … Oh Jess …”
I bit my lip. “I'm sorry, Max. I really am.”
I looked back at my mother. “You should go,” I said.
“Yes, you should,” Max said suddenly, his expression one of contempt. “Esther, after all I did for you … You know, Jess was right about you all along. You are the most selfish, self-centered person I've ever met. Not for talking to Hugh Barter, but for what you put us through. What you put your daughter through. I have no respect for you anymore. Jess once said to me that she'd gotten this far without a mother, she didn't need one now. And I thought she was wrong, thought she'd realize she did need you after all. But I think perhaps she hit the nail on the head. I think I should have listened to her.”
My mother nodded, rummaging in her bag. She pulled out a lipstick, then looked at it in surprise as if she had no idea where it had come from. I'd never seen her like that—lost, almost winded. But immediately, a bright smile appeared on her face. “Of course, Max. I completely understand,” she said. And then, still clutching the lipstick, she left.
Chester stood up. “I have to go, too,” he said gravely. “And I owe you guys an apology. A big one. I'll work something out, but in the meantime I'd be honored if you'd have us back as a client. I'll be taking a double-page spread in Advertising Today to apologize and to take back all the accusations that Hugh Barter and his crew have been putting out around town. And I will personally call up each and every one of your former clients to tell them they should come back. How does that sound as a start?”
“Sounds good,” Max said. His voice sounded strained, as though he didn't quite trust himself to speak. “Sounds great, in fact. Thank you, Chester.”
A Wild Affair: A Novel Page 21