He nodded, his expression earnest. ‘Anything.’
‘Don’t do anything rash. If you’re really serious about this, we need to choose the right time. It may be best to wait until Zoe is married and Seb has finished his final exams, don’t you think?’ Secretly, she hoped he’d get over this ridiculous desire to come clean.
‘Perhaps.’ He stepped towards her and drew her into a hug. She tried to relax into him but couldn’t help imitating a wooden soldier.
What the hell did perhaps mean? Did he not care at all about her feelings?
Before she had the chance to voice her questions, Seb asked one of his own. ‘How was your night with the girls?’
She remembered Neve’s bombshell but her desperation to tell him all about it had faded. Less than an hour ago, she’d thought Neve’s world the most complicated of the three of them. Now she wasn’t so sure. She inhaled slowly, calmed herself a little and then told him everything.
Chapter Ten
Emma
Emma surreptitiously popped another painkiller as the door of the travel agency opened. She looked up, readying herself to greet the possible new client but her smile died on her lips.
What was she doing here? Their eyes met and Neve smiled tentatively as she stepped further inside. She looked perfect as usual in a short denim skirt and a cute gypsy-style top, her short cropped golden hair making her look sexy and feminine. Emma didn’t think she could ever get away with such a cut, not that she’d have the guts to try. Right now she wished she had a hat to cover up her practical, busy-mum ponytail.
‘Can I help you?’ Mandy asked as she stood up, her tone as bubbly as ever.
Neve broke their gaze, looking away from Emma and over to Mandy a moment. ‘Thanks, but Emma and I are friends so I’d prefer to do business with her if you don’t mind.’
Do business? It sounded so formal. Then again, things had been strained between them since Friday night. Usually she, Neve and Flick texted or Facebooked at least once a day but four days had gone by now. Flick had called her on Saturday to check she was okay and she’d told her she was ‘fine, just tired, just busy’. It seemed to be her catchphrase these days. The truth was, whether she liked it or not, things had changed with Neve’s confession. She felt sorry for Will but could no longer look at Neve in the same way.
Perhaps she was being precious, but she just couldn’t help it. She didn’t believe in accidents when it came to infidelity. When Neve had been trying to justify her affair by saying how much she’d loved James, how amazing their connection and the sex, all Emma could visualise was Chanel saying the same about Max. Just because she loved him, didn’t make what they’d done right. It didn’t justify Emma’s children growing up in a broken home.
She couldn’t sit across her desk from Neve pretending everything was okay.
‘I’m sorry,’ Emma said, forcing an apologetic grimace. ‘I’m in the middle of something at the moment. I’m sure Mandy will be able to help you.’ And before Neve could object, she put on her headset and feigned intense concentration on something on her computer screen.
‘Take a seat,’ Mandy said, her tone still chirpy but also a little bemused. ‘Where is it you’re looking to travel?’
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Neve deliberate a moment. She wouldn’t put it past her friend to call her bluff or ask her if she could make an appointment and come back at a more convenient time. Neve wasn’t the type of person to let a disagreement fester. So she was a little surprised when she finally sighed and then sat down on the opposite side of Mandy’s desk.
‘New York.’
Mandy beamed and turned around to grab some travel brochures from the wall behind them. ‘Now, first things first. When do you want to go and how long for?’
Emma waited a few moments until Neve and Mandy were engrossed in conversation, and then she lowered her headset and tried not to be obvious about eavesdropping. Several times she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from making an alternative suggestion. She hadn’t been to New York in years but although the Times Square hotel Mandy booked was right near Broadway, she reckoned Neve might prefer somewhere a little quieter and less touristy. Somewhere like Hotel Giraffe in the Gramercy district, where she and Max had stayed on their last kid-free trip away. She had fond memories of that holiday, but little had she known that her supposedly devoted husband had a young lover back in Australia, a lover he left her for exactly three weeks after their return. These days she tried not to remember any holidays with Max if she could possibly help it.
‘Emma, have you got a moment?’
Welcoming the distraction, she looked up to see Patrick beckoning to her from the door of the back-office staff room. He had a desk set up in the corner for when he needed to get admin work done without the interruption of clients, but there was also a comfy couch for staff and a small kitchen. ‘Sure.’
With one last glance at Neve—who didn’t look up at all—Emma put her headset down on the desk, pushed back her chair and stood. The moment she entered the staff room, he closed the door behind them. Her heart thudded in her chest. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, trying to read his expression. She’d been a little late this morning—having been into school to see Laura’s English teacher about her failing grades.
‘I don’t know. You tell me.’
Emma frowned, unsure what he meant.
‘Did I hear Mandy’s new client mention she was a friend of yours?’
Emma nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze. Why did he have to be so damn observant? In her experience, most men didn’t register something unless you screamed it right into their face. ‘Yes, we go to book club together.’ Of course that was a gross understatement, but it was also based in truth.
‘I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance to take on her business?’
Emma shrugged. ‘I was busy.’
Patrick raised one eyebrow and his shamrock-green eyes felt as if they could see right into her soul. ‘So I just imagined the tenseness between you two, then?’ He went on before she could reply. ‘You’ve seemed distracted lately, Emma. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ she answered, but inwardly she desperately wanted to say yes.
Patrick gave her a look to say he wasn’t buying her bullshit at all.
She sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Part of her wished she could get it off her chest; usually when something bothered her she talked to Neve or Flick, but she didn’t want to make Flick feel as if she were torn between her two friends. Not that she and Neve had had an actual fight or anything.
Just thinking about this was making her head hurt again.
‘How about when Mandy and Jenny get back, I take you to lunch?’
Emma’s heart did a little flip. While she and Patrick would often talk in the staff room when he was at Subiaco, in her five and a half years of being in his employ, they’d never gone out alone. It almost felt like he was asking her on a date but she inwardly shook her head at the ridiculousness of that thought. Even if she did like him a little more than she should like her boss, even if he weren’t gay, a man as handsome and successful as Patrick Donoghue was unlikely to look twice at a single, semi-frumpy mum like her.
But she could do with a friend.
‘That sounds great.’
‘Excellent.’ Patrick grinned and then walked the few steps to open the door for her.
Emma stepped past him, and trying not to inhale his lovely sandalwood cologne too deeply, she breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed that Neve had gone.
Mandy looked over at her with a curious expression. ‘Genevieve seems lovely.’
Emma nodded, unable to recall the last time she’d heard Neve referred to by her full name. ‘She is.’ Then she clicked her mouse and looked at her computer screen, hoping Mandy would get the message that she didn’t want to talk about Neve or anything else really.
‘I’ll bet she’s going to have a fantastic time in New York. Do you know why sh
e’s going?’ Neve obviously hadn’t confided in her travel agent. And why would she? ‘I mean, I know the shopping and theatre and sights are fantastic, but it seems like an odd place to visit on your own. Unless she’s meeting someone there. She’s single, isn’t she? I bet that’s it. Has she met some guy online?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Emma said, her words clipped.
‘Mandy? Jenny?’ Patrick called from where he’d just sat down again at Darby’s desk. ‘Since we’re quiet in here again, why don’t you two take your lunch break?’
Emma shot him a grateful smile; her ex-husband would never have been so perceptive, which only proved that gay men were so much better than straight ones.
‘You don’t have to ask me twice.’ Mandy sprung from her seat and rushed into the staff room to fetch her bag.
Jenny tapped away on her keyboard a few more moments and then followed Mandy at a more leisurely pace. Although she was almost old enough to be Mandy’s grandmother, the two of them often went to lunch together. Emma rarely left the shop, making do with coffee and biscuits, which were cheap if you bought them on special. When Coles had Tim Tams on sale it was like winning the lottery.
Mandy looked from Patrick to Emma as she opened the shop door and held it for Jenny to go through, then she shook her finger at them, a gleam in her eye. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two.’
‘We’ll be back soon,’ Jenny said, her tone amused.
Emma felt her cheeks flush again. Was her pathetic crush that obvious?
Thankfully a couple of young women—about the age of Flick’s Zoe—came in as Mandy and Jenny went out and Emma leapt at the chance to help them.
‘Hi,’ she said, with perhaps a tad too much enthusiasm. ‘How may I help you?’ She’d bet the packet of Tim Tams in her drawer that they wanted to know all about Contiki Tours. Oh youth!
The girls sat down opposite her and glanced at her name on her badge. ‘Hi Emma,’ said the fairer of the two. ‘I’m Lili and this is Vanessa. We want to know everything you can tell us about Contiki Tours in North America.’
Bingo!
‘We’ve been working our butts off and saving for this,’ added Vanessa, almost dancing in her seat.
‘How exciting.’ Emma smiled, relishing the opportunity to forget about her issues a few moments. ‘You’ve come to the right place.’
For the next half an hour, she waxed lyrical to Lili and Vanessa about companies that specialised in tours for under thirty-fives. The girls were spoilt for choice but eventually decided on a southern focus, thirteen days away, starting in New Orleans and ending in sunny California. They paid the deposit and were just leaving as Jenny and Mandy returned.
As Patrick was still with a client that had come in not long after the Contiki combo, Emma replied to a few emails and then messaged Max, reminding him that it was the twins’ birthday in a couple of weeks. It irked her that she still had to remind him but she couldn’t help herself—he’d forget otherwise and the girls would be devastated.
‘You ready?’ Patrick loomed over her desk and she shoved her mobile phone into her handbag. He didn’t mind about messaging at work but she didn’t want him to see that she was messaging Max. She didn’t want him to think of her as one of those sad women who couldn’t let go of her ex-husband.
‘Sure am.’ She smiled up at him and then stood, hitching her handbag onto her shoulder.
She expected they’d grab a sandwich from the deli on the corner and eat it in the park or at the plastic tables outside, but Patrick walked right past and led her to a fancy Indian restaurant around the block. A restaurant known for awesome food and with a price tag to match. Emma’s chest tightened. How the heck could she tell Patrick that she didn’t want to eat here because she couldn’t afford it? The kids had raided her wallet again for canteen that morning, because somehow she’d forgotten to buy bread and they’d been unable to make sandwiches for their lunch. Payday was Friday and until then she was well and truly scraping the barrel.
‘Won’t they take longer than half an hour to serve us here?’ she asked, thinking quickly.
He grinned. ‘Possibly, but I’m the boss, so we can take an extended lunch if I say.’
She rubbed her lips together, her stomach churning and her head starting to ache once again. It was best to come clean. ‘I’m sorry, Patrick, but lunch here isn’t within my budget.’
If she’d blushed when Mandy had teased them, her cheeks were burning now.
Patrick frowned slightly, then reached out and palmed his hand against her arm; her skin heated beneath his warm touch, despite the cotton of her shirt between them. ‘Emma, when your boss asks you out to lunch, he doesn’t expect you to pay.’
Relief warred with embarrassment inside her, but she forced a smile and said, ‘Thank you,’ not wanting to make a thing about this.
‘My pleasure.’ He dropped his hand from her arm as he opened the door to the restaurant and gestured for her to go in ahead of him.
They were greeted by a jovial waiter, who escorted them to a table and went through the specials enthusiastically. Everything he mentioned made Emma’s mouth water and she had no idea what to choose.
‘Shall we get the banquet for two?’ Patrick suggested, looking to her for approval.
‘Great idea.’ Still not entirely comfortable about him paying, she was happy for him to make the decision.
‘And what wine would you like with that?’ asked the waiter, collecting their menus and tucking them under his arm.
‘Red or white?’ Patrick asked her.
She blinked. When he’d suggested lunch, alcohol had never entered her head.
As if he could read her mind, his lips curled up at the edges. ‘One glass won’t hurt, Emma.’
She decided that maybe she’d relax a little if she had a drink. ‘Okay. I’ll have a chardonnay, please?’
Patrick ordered a glass of red and when the waiter retreated, he looked intently at her across the table. ‘What’s going on, Emma?’
She remembered that was why he’d asked her to lunch—to listen to her woes—and took a deep breath. Where to start? ‘My friend Neve, Mandy’s client, told me something the other night.’ She swallowed, guilt weighing down her heart. ‘And I haven’t been able to see her in the same light since.’
‘I see. Can you tell me what she said or would that be breaking a confidence?’
Emma thought a moment, working out how she could fully explain her bugbear without mentioning the Will/James issue. ‘She told me she had an affair years ago with a colleague and ended up pregnant.’ When Patrick didn’t say anything, she continued. ‘Do you know why my ex-husband and I broke up?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m guessing he cheated on you?’
She nodded, her chest tightening at the admission. Everyone knew that cheated wives were naive, stupid—all those late meetings at the office, business trips away, they were dead giveaways for Bored Married Man Has A Bit On The Side. Patrick would probably never respect her again. She ignored the urge to make excuses about why she’d never suspected it, because that wasn’t the point right now.
‘That sucks,’ he said, and she couldn’t help but laugh because she’d never heard such a word escape his mouth before.
‘It was a long time ago, but just when I think I’m over it,’ she confessed, ‘something happens to bring all the hurt and humiliation back. I’ve poured my heart out to Neve—she knows every nasty, intimate detail about my marriage breakup. We’ve been best friends for five years and she never once thought to mention that she probably related more to Chanel’s situation than mine.’
‘I’m sorry, who’s Chanel?’
‘Oh, Max’s new wife. I’m the stereotypical ex-wife, all frumpy and bitter and boring; she’s the clichéd other woman, ridiculously skinny except for her breasts and her huge blowjob lips.’
Patrick snorted and then laughed. ‘You’re not frumpy Emma, and you’re definitely not boring. And Max is obviously a jerk.’
The waiter arrived with their drinks and once they’d uttered their thanks, Patrick lifted his glass to clink hers. ‘I say you’re better off without him, but let’s get back to you and Neve. Why does something she did in the past upset you so much? Good friendships are hard to come by.’
‘I know that.’ She took a sip of her wine, savouring the fruity taste. ‘But I keep thinking if Neve could do something like that, then she’s not at all the person I’ve thought she is all these years. And I can’t help thinking that all the sympathy she’s given me was hypocritical. Know what I mean?’
‘I can see how it might feel that way,’ Patrick said, ‘but this affair was how many years ago?’
‘About eighteen.’
‘Well then, haven’t you changed at all in the last couple of decades? I know I have. And if Neve’s kept this secret for that long, it’s probably because she’s ashamed of what she did.’
Emma thought about the way her friend had talked about sex with her married man the other night and wasn’t so sure. Then again, Neve had left James, rather than pressuring him to leave his wife. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’
She sighed and for some stupid reason felt tears prickle at the back of her eyeballs. Although she tried to swallow them, one escaped, leaving a hot trail down her cheek. ‘I’m sorry.’ She swiped at her eyes, appalled that she’d almost lost it in front of her boss. What must he think of her?
‘Hey.’ Patrick reached out and squeezed her hand across the table. ‘No need to apologise. You’re allowed to be human.’
She snorted, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest at the way his touch felt. ‘Tell my kids that. I think they missed the memo. They expect me to be superwoman, which involves cleaning, cooking, chauffeuring, cheerleading, counselling—all while holding down a full-time job to keep them in the manner their father has made them accustomed to.’
Before he could comment on her minor explosion, Emma’s mobile started buzzing in her pocket. She used it as an excuse to retrieve her hand—Patrick holding it made her a little dizzy—and to pull herself together.
The Art of Keeping Secrets Page 8