The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  ‘Courtesy?’ James snorted. ‘Didn’t think you knew the meaning of the word. You never paid me the courtesy of telling me about our son when you were pregnant with him eighteen years ago.’

  She closed her eyes and took a breath. Maybe she deserved his wrath but he was the one who’d been married when they were sleeping together. He’d always made it clear where she stood—that as much as he cared for her, he wouldn’t leave his wife and two daughters.

  And after the day she’d had, she wasn’t in the mood to put up with his self-righteousness. ‘Whatever, James. If you want to talk before I fly home, it’ll have to be tonight.’

  ‘I’m at the theatre tonight.’

  ‘Oh well, guess we’ll chat once I’ve spoken to Will then.’ Ignoring the dread that welled in her stomach and relieved she wouldn’t have to face James again today, Neve was about to disconnect when he spoke again.

  ‘Hold your horses. I think it’ll be easier to speak in person. There’s a few things I want to discuss before I meet Will. Where are you?’

  Neve swallowed. ‘At our hotel.’

  ‘I’ll call in some favours at work and be there as soon as I can.’

  This time he disconnected before she had the chance to say anything. ‘Well.’ She looked at the phone in her hand. ‘It was lovely to speak to you too, James. I’ll await your arrival with eagerness and anticipation.’

  Another guest walked past and saw her talking to herself, but she rolled her eyes, starting to care less and less about what other people thought of her. When one of the two people in the world she truly loved hated her and the other soon would, what did it matter what anyone else believed? Emotionally exhausted, she sat there a few minutes unable to move, then just as she was heading back to the room, James rang.

  She sucked in a breath as she answered him. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m on my way to your hotel. Meet me in the bar.’ It was a directive, not a request, and again he disconnected before she could reply. Her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed as she shoved the phone into her handbag and stalked in the direction of the bar. How dare James treat her with such contempt! She may have made a mistake in her life—okay, a fairly major one—but that didn’t erase all the good things she’d done and she wasn’t going to let him make her feel any more worthless than she already did.

  He wasn’t in the bar when she arrived, so she positioned herself to one side of the entrance where he wouldn’t immediately see her and stood back to watch. Call it petty, but he could wait for her rather than the other way around. He strode in a few minutes later, looking smoking hot in designer jeans and wearing a black business shirt pushed up to his elbows. His dark blond hair looked perfectly ruffled, as if he’d run a hand through it only a few moments earlier.

  Neve caught her breath and placed a hand against her chest to try and calm the erratic beating of her heart. Good thing James couldn’t see the irrational way her body reacted whenever she saw him. He didn’t need that kind of advantage.

  It was hard to believe only a few nights ago they’d been tearing up his sheets together and now they were meeting as hostile adversaries. How things could change.

  James glanced at his watch and then looked around the bar, scanning for her. She jumped behind a pillar just in time and waited another few moments—telling her hormones they had no place in the conversation about to be had. Finally she came out of hiding and walked across to where James was now tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

  She smiled in a manner that wasn’t friendly at all. ‘Evening.’

  He looked up and then raked his gaze down over her body. No matter what he thought of her, he couldn’t hide the appreciation that flared in his eyes. Neve threw him a look that told him he’d been caught. He scowled and gestured to the seat opposite him.

  Neither of them suggested buying drinks. This wasn’t a social conversation.

  ‘Lost your voice?’ she asked coolly as she pulled out the seat and sat. Probably not a good idea to rile him any further, but she wanted to make it clear where they stood. Sparks might fly whenever they were together and he might be the father of her son, but that didn’t mean she would put up with him calling all the shots.

  James cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. She smiled at the knowledge that sitting in such close proximity was physically difficult for him. Or perhaps hard would be the more accurate term. He mightn’t like her but his body didn’t much care for his opinions.

  ‘Why are you leaving so soon?’ he asked when he’d repositioned himself.

  ‘Something’s come up and my friends need to go home. I see no reason to hang around here without them.’

  He nodded and then got straight to the point. ‘I spoke to my boss today and I’ve arranged for some time off in a couple of weeks. I’ll fly to Perth and spend a few days getting to know Will, if he’s agreeable, and then I’ll return again after Mamma Mia! closes and bring the girls for a visit.’

  ‘You’ve already told your daughters?’ Hell, she’d only told him that morning.

  ‘Of course. My kids are my life and I don’t keep secrets from them.’

  It was an obvious dig at her but she didn’t take the bait; concern for Will overrode all else.

  ‘What did they say?’ She couldn’t imagine anyone would be overjoyed to hear their father had cheated on their mother and had a secret baby, but if they took it out on Will…

  ‘My daughters are no concern of yours. It’s a good thing you’re going home earlier—the sooner you’ll be able to tell our son the truth. Will’s almost an adult; once you’ve told him, we’ll not need to have anything else to do with each other.’

  This morning when he’d said son it had sounded sweet, now it sounded almost threatening. A chill lifted the hairs on the back of her neck and she felt her resolve to be strong slipping. Thank God Will was nearly an adult and could make his own decisions. If he were younger, James could launch a custody battle and attempt to take him away from her. This had been one of her fears all those years ago, that somehow James and his wife would take her baby. In the end, it would be her word against his if he chose to play it that way. But if push came to shove, she was certain Will would choose her.

  Neve tried to keep her voice steady as she stood. ‘In that case, I don’t think we have anything further to say until I have told Will.’ She didn’t know how much longer she could hold herself together. And the last person she wanted to fall apart in front of was him. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Don’t take too long,’ he said, his tone threatening again.

  Neve narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Don’t push me, James. I’ll call you when I’m well and ready.’

  Before he could argue, she turned and marched away. With her heels click-clacking against the floor, she held her chin high and her shoulders back, but inside her heart was quaking and she was this close to falling apart.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Emma

  The flight home from a holiday is always worse than the trip there, and as Emma sat between her two best friends, a sombre note drifted between them. In between trying to sleep, they all attempted to watch movies and read the cheap paperbacks they’d bought at JFK, but Emma didn’t get past chapter one and she couldn’t even recall the names of the films she’d started to watch but abandoned before the end of the first act. On the way to New York, the three women had been like excited kids—even Neve, full of nerves about seeing James, had been looking forward to other parts of the holiday—but none of them had much to look forward to now.

  Emma had an appointment with her neurosurgeon on Monday, Neve had an awful secret to deliver to Will, and Flick had serious decisions to make about her marriage. This holiday would definitely go down in history as Emma’s worst vacation ever—she only hoped it wouldn’t be her last.

  Dammit, every thought came back to the tumour. Although the idea of brain surgery terrified her, in some ways she hoped her new doctor would suggest they go ahead with it as soon as possible
. She hated the thought of this uninvited thing growing inside her head. Yes, there were risks—she shuddered just thinking about them—but letting the tumour stay and simply monitoring it didn’t appeal either.

  As long as it was up there, it was like a storm cloud looming above her.

  In keeping with their moods, Perth put on a lightning and thunder storm as the plane came in to land and the two babies on board wailed their disapproval. Emma almost joined them and, judging by the expressions on Flick’s and Neve’s faces, they wanted to as well. The three of them grabbed their hand luggage and filed out of the plane, looking and feeling like they’d been on a three-month trek in some remote corner of the globe. They shuffled through customs and emerged into the arrivals hall to see a hundred or so cheery faces staring back at them.

  Emma wasn’t surprised to see Seb waiting with Toby and Will but she hadn’t expected to see Patrick there with the welcome party. Was he a mirage? A very tall and sexy mirage at that. She blinked, shocked by the pleasant jolt brought on by seeing him.

  How could she feel such carnal awareness at a time like this? And about Patrick of all people? The gods must be laughing.

  ‘Did you tell him?’ she asked her friends, but they had already rushed ahead. It dawned on her that he’d have been the one to arrange their sudden change of flights and that they’d have to have given him some kind of explanation. As Neve and Will embraced and Flick went to hug Toby and Seb, Patrick came towards Emma.

  He stopped in front of her and brushed his lips against hers in a perfectly respectable greeting. ‘Hello, Emma.’

  Her cheek tingled and the shivers that shot through her body were anything but respectable. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she imagined how horrified he’d be if he knew the thoughts going through her mind. ‘Hi,’ she managed as he reached out to take her suitcase. ‘What are you doing here?’

  His smile only made her temperature climb higher. ‘I guessed you’d be tired from your flight and that Neve and Flick would want to spend time with their families. Knowing yours was still away, I didn’t want you to be alone if you didn’t want to be. I’ve come to drive you home.’

  ‘Thank you,’ was all she could think of to say. Although he hadn’t mentioned the Big T, his reference to her not being alone made it clear Flick had told him everything. She didn’t actually mind—he would need to know sooner rather than later anyway because of work. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you and way beyond the requirements of a good boss, but I could have caught a cab.’

  He raised a thick, dark eyebrow. ‘A few days in the States and already you’re using their lingo.’

  She bit her lip, her cheeks flaring again. There was something in the way he said these words that felt like flirting, but of course she knew how crazy that was. ‘I’m so sorry about the time I’m going to have to take off work.’

  ‘Shh,’ he whispered, lifting a finger to his lips but keeping his intense gaze on hers. ‘I don’t want you to worry about any of that. All I want is for you to concentrate on getting better. That’s all that matters.’

  Emma’s heart sank. She didn’t want Patrick to think of her as an invalid, someone who needed to be looked after. Truth was, however ridiculous it might be, she wanted him to look at her the way Max looked at Chanel. Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone.

  ‘So I guess Flick told you then?’ Emma glanced sideways at her friend, lost in conversation with her two men. Despite Flick’s revelation in New York, she couldn’t wrap her head around thinking of Seb as anything but male. Not yet anyway.

  ‘She gave me the basics.’ Patrick paused a moment. ‘I’m so sorry, Emma.’

  Her eyes prickled and her throat closed over. She shook her head and held up a finger, begging him not to look at her that way. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to cry here. She didn’t want to cry at all, because then she would have to admit weakness and the thing inside her head would win.

  He nodded as if he understood and then Flick turned to them and leaned over to peck Patrick on the cheek. ‘So nice to see you again. It’s a lovely surprise. And thank you for all your help.’

  He shrugged a shoulder and Emma swore his cheeks darkened a little. ‘Emma’s a very important employee and I have a vested interest in making sure she gets home safely.’

  Flick smiled her approval at him, then spoke to Emma. ‘Do you want me to come back to your place? Seb can take my things home and I can stay with you tonight if you want?’

  ‘No.’ Emma loved Flick and Neve but she needed some time alone. Not that she could blame her friends for being overprotective; if one of them got gravely ill, she’d do everything she could to look after them as well. ‘I’ll be fine. A good shower, a quick bite to eat and I reckon I’ll crash the moment I hit the pillow.’

  ‘Me too.’ Neve, her arm still wrapped tightly around Will, nodded. ‘Nothing like your own bed.’

  ‘Okay then, if you’re sure.’ Flick still sounded a little hesitant.

  Patrick stepped closer to Emma. ‘She’ll be fine. I’ll look after her. I promise.’

  While Emma wanted to argue that she could look after herself thank you very much, she couldn’t deny the rush that came with his words. Then a thought struck—did her weird feelings of attraction towards Patrick coincide with the beginning of her headaches? She’d read that brain tumours could affect a person’s thinking. Without a doubt she hadn’t been entirely herself for months—snapping at friends, colleagues and family for the slightest thing.

  And now, experiencing inappropriate feelings for her boss.

  While she silently pondered this thought, the others exchanged goodbyes and promises to catch up the next day. Once again Emma found herself being embraced by Flick and then Neve—they’d hugged more in the last week than they had in five years of friendship.

  Patrick had parked at the opposite end of the car park to Seb, so Emma bid her friends another goodbye and then walked alongside him out into the cool Perth evening.

  ‘Last time I go on an unplanned holiday,’ she said, trying to make small talk.

  He chuckled. ‘When Flick came to me with her proposition, I hoped you’d have a relaxing and fun time away. I’ve been worried about you lately.’

  ‘You have?’ She slowed to look at him and he nodded. ‘I’m sorry if my work hasn’t been up to scratch, I didn’t—’

  ‘Emma.’ His deep voice interrupted her as he reached sideways and took her hand in his. He caught her by surprise and her breath caught in her throat.

  ‘Stop apologising. You’ve never given any less than a hundred and ten percent at work. I was worried about you, not your work or the business. You haven’t been yourself.’ He gave her hand a little squeeze, then dropped it again and crossed to the ticket machine.

  While Patrick paid with his credit card, Emma glanced down at her hand, expecting to see evidence of the zap she’d felt at his touch. How long had it been since a man had held her hand? Such a simple thing that Max had stopped doing long before they’d separated. She curled her fingers around her palm, hoping to hold onto the feeling.

  ‘Right, let’s go,’ Patrick said, stepping back and smiling at her to follow him.

  ‘Who have you got closing up the agency?’ she asked, trying to distract herself from his touch as they arrived at his slick black sedan.

  ‘Jenny and Mandy can handle it.’

  He beeped open his Audi. The boot rose automatically and he lifted her suitcase into it. Then he ushered her around to the passenger door and held it open as she climbed inside. As the door shut and Patrick strode around to the driver’s side, Emma clicked on her seatbelt and took a deep breath, inhaling the clean leather scent of his relatively new car mixed with something sweet.

  Patrick climbed into the car and the moment he turned the key in the ignition, one of her favourite songs drifted out of the stereo. ‘You like Kings of Leon as well?’ she asked.

  ‘Who doesn’t like them?’

  A smile crept
onto her face as she relaxed back into the comfy leather seat. The first genuine smile since the meeting with Dr Radcliffe.

  Patrick drove out of the airport, his fingers tapping along to the beat on the steering wheel. Comfortable silence hung between them until they got onto the highway that would take them to her place, then Patrick turned down the music and spoke.

  ‘I want you to know, Emma, I consider you a friend as well as a colleague.’

  The word friend had never sounded so appealing and her smile grew. ‘Thank you. I feel the same.’

  ‘I’m not sure if you want to talk about your illness,’ he continued, ‘but I want to be here for you whatever you need. Please don’t worry about the security of your job or money. I’m going to pay you sick leave however long you’re off work and your position will be open for you whenever you want to return.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘I know I don’t. But I want to. Please, Emma, let me look after you.’

  Again, she had that urge to argue that she didn’t need looking after, but two little voices in her head niggled at her. One—sick pay would be a lifeline; she wouldn’t be able to pay the mortgage or feed the kids without it. Two—if looking after her meant spending more time alone like this, she wasn’t going to object. A woman with a tumour in her head needed some joy in her life, didn’t she? If she didn’t have long to live, what would it matter if her stupid little crush never led anywhere?

  ‘Thank you,’ she said finally. ‘I’m not sure yet how long I’ll need off or if I’ll be able to work part-time for some of it but I’m seeing a doctor on Monday, so hopefully I’ll have more of an idea then.’

  ‘It’s okay. Do you need someone to come with you on Monday? I’d be happy to.’

  ‘That’s very kind, but I promised Flick and Neve they could.’ She half-laughed. ‘They need to feel useful.’

  ‘I understand. But if you ever need anything, company or otherwise, you know my number.’