Drop Dead Dirty

by West, Jade

  I must have only dozed for a few hours before the alarm was going off. I was a jittery mess with nerves as I got myself ready, made sure I looked ok, got Freddie his breakfast ready and kept my smile easy and bright as I dropped him at school. I checked my reflection once more in the store window, to make sure I didn’t look like a rabbit in the headlights as I marched on in and took up my post at the checkout.

  I couldn’t stop looking as the morning ticked by, my eyes on the entrance door over and over again until my lunch break finally came calling. My heart was pounding like a train as I logged out of my station and dashed to the entrance. My gaze was frantic across the car park, my senses dizzy as I pictured the drop-dead gorgeousness of Oliver Kent ready to greet me.

  But it wasn’t the drop-dead gorgeousness of Oliver Kent walking across the car park in my direction. It was Ryan Neil, his eyes locked on mine, the shake of his head apologetic as he stepped up next to me.

  “He was called back to London this morning. Business emergency. He sends his massive apologies.”

  I managed a nod. A shrug. “Never mind, these things happen…” I said, even though my belly was through the floor with disappointment.

  He held out a hand, and my eyes widened as he offered a flash of white. A business card. Crisp and thick and clearly upmarket.

  Oliver Kent. Managing Director, Kent-Fielding Electest.

  His mobile number.

  “He wants you to call him,” Ryan said.

  Chapter Eight

  Oliver

  It was the last thing I wanted for my Much Arlock Monday morning. The string of emergency text messages that woke me up on Ryan’s sofa before daylight was anything but the kind of crap I wanted to jump to my feet for. But I had to.

  The late-night business support request that had seemingly sprung through after midnight on Sunday night was from one of our primary enterprise clients. Their technical director was more than a prime contact, he was a friend, and one who would certainly need me on site to rectify whatever crap had gone down with their test team system over the weekend.

  I woke Ryan up early with a knock at his bedroom door, greeted by little more than a grunt before I headed on in and attempted to drag the assurances out of him.

  Maisie will be waiting at lunchtime. Please use yours to meet her. Please send my apologies. Please make sure she understands that this is not me bailing by choice.

  Please give her my card and ask her to call me.

  It was strange handing him my business card and watching him focus his weary eyes on the text.

  “Sure thing. Should be able to make it there for one,” he’d said, before tossing it onto his bedside table. “Hope you’re not planning on leaving it another ten years before I see you next. It’s been fun.”

  Yes, it had been.

  I hope my thanks for having me conveyed enough of my gratitude before I made my exit. I dumped my suitcase in the back of my Audi and set off from his apartment parking space with my jaw gritted tight, knowing full well that what awaited me back home was the very opposite of excitement.

  Naomi’s messages were coming through thick and fast, and so were Sean’s along with them. Back and forth, both of them keeping the text stream alight with a professional illusion of distance, even though I knew full well they’d be pinging from the same London kitchen. No doubt half dressed. No doubt still intent on exploiting me into oblivion and keeping me ignorant as they aimed for their high gloss future.

  Well, fuck them both.

  I stopped at services by Reading, but only long enough to grab a takeout coffee for the road. I called various department heads at my client destination, and assured them all I was en route. And then, finally, when the Naomi and Sean pings slowed down to almost nothing and I’d spoken to everyone I needed to prior to my appearance, I turned up the radio and let my thoughts run free.

  I’d been stewing on similar thoughts through the whole of Sunday, even through dicking around on yet more games with Ryan and coaxing his own relationship history crap out of him. I’d been stewing with nerves and want and anticipation over Maisie, even though it simmered underneath my regret at not being a better friend to Ryan over the past decade.

  I most definitely should have been a more present friend to Ryan over the past decade. Hell, he was worthy of my time and effort and always had been. Even if I had darted off to set up my whole new world and offered him a place along with me, there was no excuse for not touching base more than enough to keep our friendship active.

  I was certainly not going to make that mistake again, even if Much Arlock still gave me that weird twinge of once upon a time I’d rather forget. I’d well and truly abandoned my history there all those years back, burying it under ambition and the big city.

  Apparently that was pretty standard. I’d heard plenty about abandoning my history there from my life coach over more recent years. I’d still decided to ignore it.

  People cut off from discomfort and pain, he’d told me. That doesn’t mean you won’t rediscover the joy in the important building blocks of your old life if you refocus on them.

  Surely Maisie Moore couldn’t turn back into an important building block after all this time.

  Surely Maisie Moore couldn’t be someone I dared risk pursuing after all this time, even though I was running wild with the prospect.

  Fuck, how I was running wild with the prospect.

  Finally, London approached. I stared out at the road ahead as traffic slowed down with commuters. My thoughts kept running.

  In honesty, I had no clear idea about what exactly I was planning to talk to Maisie about in person that was so desperate to rise up and spit itself out, but I’d needed it. I’d needed it enough that I was keen to march right up to her checkout before her hour long lunchtime and ensure I made the damn best of the window.

  Unfortunately that window was now closed.

  I didn’t waste any time driving through the city congestion zone and pulling on up at my client’s offices. I smoothed down my hair in the rearview mirror before straightening my tie and stepping on out of there and in through their reception.

  My hackles were already at full alert as their grinning receptionist led me the usual route through the main foyer and up the regular four storeys to the directors meeting suite.

  Sure enough, there they were. The suited pair of Naomi and Sean already seated at the meeting room table.

  “Glad you managed to pick your phone up finally,” Naomi hissed under her breath once the receptionist had left us to it. She flicked through her open file, unwilling to look at me as I took a seat two down from her, soaking her in like she was a stranger all over again. Her sharp eyebrows, sculpted in perfect arches. Her deep red lipstick on such a perfect pout. Her glossy hair, so slick and smooth with its blonde highlights on deep brown.

  I could barely recall her casual smile, barely able to picture how she would have danced around her full-length mirror with her vast array of hair gadgets that morning. I could barely remember her laugh as I’d pulled her in for a morning hug when we were still a couple who could stand the sight of each other.

  “I hope you have the support team on high alert at the office,” I said to the pair of them, trying my best to keep my tone steady.

  “I’ve spoken to Dan this morning already,” Sean offered from the seat opposite me. “He was already very focused on getting the team primed.”

  My glare must have burnt like a furnace as I met his eyes. I managed a nod in response, reaching out for the jug of iced water already placed for our meeting. I poured a glass and took a swig, then lost my ability to hold back the sarcasm.

  “Just as well I didn’t go overseas, isn’t it?” I said to them both, feeling the return of the undeniably cocksure smirk I’d had fixed on my face through my late teens. “I suggest this would be a very good opportunity for you to rethink your takeover ambitions and fuck off to pastures new.”

  “Please, don’t start,” Naomi snapped, but I couldn’t
stop myself.

  “I mean it,” I continued. “I go away for a few simple days and by Monday morning our main clientele is struggling enough through their upgrade that you need to summon me back first thing? Excellent performance. Shows you have zero talent for managing jack shit to do with this business.”

  Sean cursed under his breath. “This couldn’t have been expected, Ollie, and you damn well know it. We were onboard just fine, working our fucking asses off.”

  “And failing,” I snapped. “Both of you were fucking failing.”

  I shut down the argument in a flash when our main client contact stepped on into the meeting room. The three of us got to our feet and offered handshakes with perfectly professional smiles on our faces, knuckling right down to sorting their support challenges out.

  We managed to make enough progress to get the systems working with critical functionality, but there was no doubt about it – we’d need to do a full investigation of their system setup across all five branches to ensure their upgrade was successful, and I’d need to be on hand to ensure we applied best practices across the board.

  Much Arlock would be a few weeks away at the minimum. Being in the same proximity as Maisie Moore again would be a few weeks away at the minimum.

  I just hoped she’d accept my apology and pick up the phone.

  “We can take it from here,” Naomi barked at me when we were out of the offices and out of earshot. “Thanks for your appearance, but we can handle the rest.”

  My smirk was smug all over again. “You wouldn’t have handled shit without me here.”

  I didn’t shoot them so much as a further glance before piling back into my Audi. I wasted no time scrolling through my recent contacts and checking back into my staple city hotel.

  I handed the car over to the doorman and trekked on up to the plush, bland, regular posh room without so much as a care for the brilliance of the lobby, or the ambient bars, or the room service menu. All I cared about was the likelihood that my mobile handset would buzz with an unrecognised number and Maisie Moore’s sweetly familiar hello would be waiting on the other end.

  The early evening ticked by slowly, my fingers tapping on autopilot responses to work emails. I picked at my room service lasagne without a huge amount of interest and dropped the plate on the dresser. The TV blared away to itself in the background as I finished up my business admin and made myself comfortable on the king size.

  And then, finally, my handset bleeped and buzzed.

  An unknown mobile number flashed up, incoming call.

  “Oliver Kent,” I offered on accepting it, and I heard the clear of her throat, so familiar.

  Nervous.

  She was nervous.

  Strangely, so was I.

  “Hi,” I offered, so much more casual.

  “Hi,” she said, and I could hear she was smiling. Twitching. “It’s Maisie. I got your number from Ryan… he said you wanted me to call…”

  “I did,” I responded, and wondered if she could hear I was smiling right back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it at lunchtime. I wanted to give my apology.”

  “That’s ok,” she said. “Honestly, I get it. These things happen. It’s ok that you couldn’t make it…”

  Her voice trailed off. Nervous breaths hitched. And I liked it. Loved it. Loved the fucking sound of Maisie Moore feeling so uncertain all over again.

  “Did you still want to talk?” she asked. “We can talk now, if you like? Freddie’s fast asleep, and I’m fine to speak, if you want to… but if you don’t…”

  I waited, quiet. Enjoyed the familiar lightness of her sweet voice, the undertone of nerves.

  I let out a sigh. “I don’t want to talk like this,” I told her, and heard her breath hitch afresh. “Not tonight.”

  “Of course,” she managed to splutter. “I get it, phone conversations aren’t the best after all this time… not to catch up properly… and you’re probably busy…”

  But that’s not what I meant, not what I meant at all.

  “Hold that thought,” I told her, and hung up the line.

  Chapter Nine

  Maisie

  Hold that thought.

  The tone of my phone sounded in a dull, straight beep. I stared mute at the handset and cleared the call he’d hung up on, heart pounding with nerves as I struggled to adjust to speaking with him. Actually speaking with him on the phone, after all this time.

  It was when the phone buzzed fresh in my open palm and Oliver showed up as a flashing name that my breath hitched all over again. The colours onscreen were different. The icons were different.

  A video call icon was something I wasn’t used to expecting, especially not this late of an evening with my hair tugged back from my face and my skin well clear of makeup.

  Shit. How could I accept this call with no warning? How could I even attempt to look presentable?

  I’d have to try.

  I pulled my hair free from its bun and fluffed it up in the hallway mirror before dashing to the corner seat of the living room, right next to the glow of the table lamp and hoping for the best. I made sure to take a deep breath and hold the screen at a decent angle before pressing the accept button with my heart right up in my throat. And there he was. The drop dead gorgeous Oliver Kent was smiling as his eyes fixed on mine. He was suavely suited, but his tie was loose and his hair had that characteristically messy bit at the front. And his smirk.

  His smirk was everything.

  “Maisie. Hi.”

  His eyes were alive in his own lamp light, his back resting against some posh suede headboard with a hint of some muted TV showing against the wall. He was perfectly shadowed, his stubble rich chestnut, his jaw firm and strong.

  The boy I’d known certainly had a whole new world of man about him.

  “I thought you were about to time out on the call,” he said with a smile, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from his dimples.

  I cleared my throat before daring to speak. “I wasn’t expecting video…” I admitted. “You caught me unprepared.”

  “I can’t imagine you ever being unprepared for anything,” he said. “You were always so organised.”

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t known me since having a young son.” My laugh sounded light. “It’s all a bit chaotic.”

  I couldn’t stop my gaze as his brows tightened and his smile narrowed.

  “It’s been too long,” he said. “Way too long.”

  Way too long was an understatement. His words hit me. Deep. Hard. Too much hope to let in, that it really was too long for him. That we really could stand a chance of ever being something, even for a moment.

  “It’s gone by so quick,” I said. “Well, it has and it hasn’t. It’s been quick and slow, all at once.”

  “It feels like both a lifetime and a blink since I packed up and left for the city,” he agreed.

  “Sure feels a blink since I was panting in Hereford Hospital, panicking about giving birth to Freddie,” I told him.

  His nod was slow. “Such different paths we’ve taken.”

  “They sure are. People speculate one hell of a lot on what you’re doing with your world of success down there in the big smoke.” I hoped my smile was bright enough. Bold enough. Genuinely proud enough. Because I was proud. I was so proud of the teenage boy I’d adored and had such huge faith in. Such belief that he’d go on to achieve so much.

  His smile wasn’t really that bright in response. His eyes were still fixed on mine, burning hard as he soaked in whatever lamplit grin I was managing to put his way.

  “A world of success in the big smoke. Sure. If working your ass off to produce a technical company that most of the universe stands no chance of understanding and being bound to it through whatever comes calling equates to a world of success, then I’m definitely there.”

  “Being a brain big enough to make a massively successful business through such crazily complex tech stuff is definitely a decent world of success,” I told him. “And that�
��s you. It’s always been you.”

  His eyes left mine while he fumbled for something at his side. The light of the TV disappeared from the wall behind him.

  “There are plenty of worlds of success out there. Tell me about your son,” he said. “Is being a mum everything they say it is?”

  My nod was instant. “Being a mum is everything I’d have ever imagined it would be. And more.” I paused. My smile bloomed in ways I couldn’t have held back if I’d tried. “It’s hard. Busy. Makes you scared, and lonely, and run ragged, but my God, it’s amazing. It’s everything. Having Freddie has been everything to me. He’s my world in ways I could never, ever have imagined in a million years.”

  Ollie’s nod was so steady, his eyes burning mine as he listened.

  I let out a breath. “Robbie loves him to bits, too. He’s a better dad than you would think. Just a shame he was every bit as godawful a boyfriend as anyone in the world would have predicted.”

  My eyes scorched his on the screen so hard, digging, wanting. Needing clues.

  I wondered if he’d mention the woman he’d opted to spend his life with. The woman he’d loved enough to put a wedding ring on her finger.

  I wondered if she was every bit as perfect as her smile had looked on the limited social media posts I’d seen over the years.

  “At least he gave you an amazing son,” Ollie responded.

  My belly turned and lurched. I was desperate. Bubbling to say so much from the pit of me.

  I just wish Freddie would’ve been yours. Every bit the amazing little guy he turned out to be, but with a dad I planned my whole future with back when I was a girl with huge dreams to match yours.

  “How about you?” I prompted, because I had to. “You’re married, right? I heard she’s someone incredible.”