by Susan Lewis
She hit the floor with a resounding thud! It was several seconds before she realized she had forgotten to pull up her chair.
There was a loud guffaw from the other side of the office, and even her own lips started to twitch. Of all the moments to pratfall this had to be just about the worst!
‘Corrie! Corrie! Is Corrie here?’ It was Luke’s secretary.
‘Yes, I’m here,’ Corrie answered, poking her head up over the desk.
Judy frowned, then shrugging she said, ‘Luke would like to see you. Can you come in a moment please?’
‘Of course,’ Corrie mumbled, picking herself up from the floor.
She turned straight to her handbag, knowing that everyone was still watching her, and laughing. She was shaking now, with the shock of the fall, her own suppressed laughter, and nerves at being summoned by Luke Fitzpatrick. Obviously Alan Fox had already told him what she’d done. She just hoped she wasn’t going to be up on an assault charge now.
She took her resignation from her bag and walked towards Luke’s office. As she passed Perkin he cowered away from her,
‘Don’t hit me!’ he pleaded. ‘Please don’t hit me!’
The others laughed, Corrie kept going.
Luke Fitzpatrick closed the door behind Corrie and waved her to a chair. ‘I think I owe you an apology,’ he said, walking around his desk.
Corrie looked at him in amazement, but as his eyes met hers she turned quickly away, colouring to the roots of her hair. He was smiling at her and her sudden rush of self-consciousness was only heightened by an acute awareness of how very handsome he was.
‘I stole all your party guests, Annalise told me,’ he went on. ‘It was unintentional, I assure you. And,’ he added with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye, ‘I shall overlook the fact that you didn’t see fit to invite me. Nevertheless, you really should have come on to the Royal Garden with Annalise, you’d have had a good time.’
Corrie had to pull herself together rapidly. In the excitement of the past few minutes she’d all but forgotten about Friday night. ‘Uh, well, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a party by then,’ she answered, feeling herself responding to his smile.
‘No, I don’t imagine you were,’ he said. ‘And unless I’m greatly mistaken you’ve probably spent the entire weekend alone in your apartment wondering how you can tell the whole lot of us to go to hell. Or worse?’
Corrie grinned. ‘Worse,’ she said, realizing that he didn’t as yet know she had biffed Alan Fox.
Luke laughed, then folding his arms on the desk he looked at her quite seriously. ‘From what I can gather,’ he said, ‘things haven’t exactly been easy for you since you started at TW.’ He held up his hand as Corrie made to interrupt. ‘I don’t know too much about what has been going on,’ he continued, ‘but I know enough. Now, I can’t tell them out there how to behave every minute of the day, and my guess is you wouldn’t take too kindly to me ordering them to be nice to you anyway. But I could have helped this situation a long time ago just by showing you a little congeniality myself. I didn’t, and for that I’m sorry. We will put that to rights starting now. I had a chat with Bob over the weekend and he tells me your work is of a very high standard, so if that’s a resignation you’re clutching in your hand there, can I ask you to put it on hold for a few weeks?’
Corrie looked at him. Any answer she might have given was unable to get past the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat.
The corners of Luke’s incredible blue eyes crinkled in a smile. ‘I hope that lip tremble was a yes,’ he said.
Corrie laughed and choked on a sob.
‘And,’ he continued, ‘I should like to make amends for Friday by inviting you out to dinner one night this week. It’s about time we got to know each other.’
Corrie was stunned. Why on earth would he want to get to know someone as lowly as her? And over dinner? She’d better tell him about Alan Fox now, before anyone else did. He might well change his mind once he knew.
‘I just punched Alan Fox on the nose,’ she said flatly.
Luke’s eyes widened. Then, to her unutterable delight, he burst out laughing. ‘I’m sure he more than deserved it,’ he said.
‘Yes, he did,’ Corrie beamed, feeling slightly delirious. ‘I just thought I should tell you, because it’s probably a sackable offence.’
‘In some circumstances,’ Luke admitted. ‘But I daresay not these. I’ve watched you these past weeks,’ he went on, ‘so has Bob. Bob much more closely, of course. He is of the opinion that you are nurturing an ambition to become a researcher – perhaps a reporter …’
‘Producer, actually,’ Corrie blurted out.
‘Producer then,’ Luke laughed. ‘Well, I admire people with ambition, and I admire people with guts. You clearly have both. There aren’t many who would have been able to keep their heads above water faced with what you’ve been faced with since you started here. Most would have gone scuttling back home to mother by now. Is that what you intend, by resigning?’
Corrie shook her head. ‘No. I was going to look for another job.’ She didn’t tell him her mother was dead, had died only five months ago, she hadn’t told anyone – not even Annalise.
Luke was clearly impressed by her answer. ‘Still weren’t going to give up, eh? Now there’s tenacity. So, what do you say? Will you let me take you to dinner?’
‘Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much,’ Corrie answered, already feeling slightly dizzy at the prospect of being seen in public with Luke Fitzpatrick. Just wait till she told Paula! God, did she have a lot to tell Paula.
Luke’s eyes were on hers, and she could feel herself starting to blush again. His magnetism was so all-pervading it was almost tangible.
‘I don’t suppose you have your diary with you,’ he said, opening his own. ‘But let me see, tomorrow night’s good for me. Let me know if it’s OK with you.’
‘Oh, that’s fine with me.’ The words practically gushed from her mouth. ‘I’m free all the time.’ Oh God! she groaned inwardly, what an idiot I must sound.
Laughing, Luke stood up and walked around his desk. ‘Then I’ll make a reservation at San Frediano’s in Fulham Road for eight o’clock. Do you know it?’
Corrie shook her head.
‘It’s Italian,’ he said, opening the door. He was on the point of saying something else when he saw Annalise coming towards him.
‘I thought you were going back to Scotland this morning,’ he said.
‘I was.’ She smiled at Corrie as she passed, and flicked out her mane of foaming blonde curls. ‘Pippa called last night, they won’t let us back on the rig again until tomorrow, so I’m flying up there tonight.’
Corrie looked at her curiously. There was something odd about her, she thought. Her confidence was too bright, too brittle, and her movements seemed awkward.
Luke stood to one side as Annalise sailed into his office and Corrie started back to her desk.
Before closing the door Luke glanced across at Corrie. She was on the point of answering the telephone when she looked up and caught him watching her. She smiled, and laughing at yet another flood of colour to her cheeks, Luke disappeared back into his office.
‘So?’ Annalise said, as he walked behind his desk.
‘I’ve apologized to her.’
Annalise waved a hand impatiently. ‘I’m not talking about Corrie, and you know it. I’m talking about Saturday night. Remember Saturday night?’
Sighing deeply Luke sank into his chair. He hadn’t missed the red rings around her eyes. ‘I seem to be doing a lot of apologizing this morning,’ he grumbled.
‘I waited in,’ Annalise retorted. ‘I waited all night.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Annalise held his eyes, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to give her an explanation she gritted her teeth and asked for one.
‘I didn’t call because I wasn’t in London,’ he said.
‘Then where were you?’
Luke�
�s eyes narrowed with annoyance. He glanced at his watch. ‘Annalise, this is hardly the time or the place to be having this discussion. I’ve said I’m sorry, now if you don’t mind, I’ve …’
‘I do mind,’ she said, petulantly.
‘I’ve got an important telephone call to make,’ he said deliberately.
‘But you distinctly told me on Friday night, when I was in your bed,’ she was biting out the words, but her voice was thick with tears, ‘that we were going out on Saturday. You didn’t even call to say you couldn’t make it. You owe me an explanation for that, you bastard, and don’t think I’m …’
‘Annalise, please leave this office now, before we both say something we’ll only regret later. Now!’ he barked, as she made to protest again.
Annalise started at the harshness of his tone. ‘Why do you keep treating me like this?’ she cried. ‘One minute you’re telling me you can’t get me out of your mind, the next you’re trying to throw me out of your office. I just don’t know where I stand with you, Luke. I feel like I’m going out of my mind.’
‘We’ll talk about this when you get back from Scotland,’ he answered, standing up and heading towards the door.
‘No! Wait!’ she cried before he could open it.
He turned back, his face expressionless.
‘Oh, God, I hate it when you look like that,’ she said, covering her face with her hands. ‘Luke, just tell me, please! Tell me what is going on with us.’ When she looked up her eyes were steeped in desperation. ‘You know how I feel about you,’ she said. ‘I don’t make any secret of it. Perhaps I should. Should I? I don’t know. I don’t know anything any more. I tried to call you all day yesterday …’
As the tears started to run down her face Luke let go of the door and pulled her into his arms. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘Please, don’t cry.’ Again he looked at his watch.
‘Then tell me how you feel,’ she sobbed.
‘You know how I feel. I’m crazy about you, but I’m just not convinced it can work. I …’
‘But why? Tell me why.’ She was looking up into his face, her eyes pleading for the reassurance she craved.
‘You know why. I’m almost twenty years older than you to begin with, and I’m your boss. And your father’s my partner. It’s all too … It makes me feel trapped.’
‘But Daddy hardly ever comes here. He told you himself that he’d leave the running of the place to you. And he does. And as for being my boss, if it make a difference, if you really want me to, I’ll leave. I’ll find a job somewhere else. If it means …’
‘Annalise,’ he groaned.
‘If it means you won’t feel trapped any more. I’ll do anything, Luke. Anything you want me to.’
‘I know you will,’ he sighed. ‘That’s half the problem.’
‘What do you mean?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing. Forget it.’
For a long time she searched his eyes with her own, trying to find the answers he couldn’t, or wouldn’t give. In the end she said, ‘Luke, there’s no one else, is there? Tell me there’s no one else.’
She sounded so pathetic that he couldn’t help smiling. ‘You always ask me that,’ he said softly, ‘and the answer is still the same. No, there’s no one else. Just you.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure.’
She attempted a smile. ‘Can we talk, when I get back from Scotland?’
‘If that’s what you want.’
When she had gone Luke buzzed through to his secretary to tell her he didn’t want any more interruptions, then he picked up the telephone and dialled a long distance number.
‘It’s Luke Fitzpatrick here,’ he said, when a voice answered at the other end.
‘Ah, yes. I’ll put you straight through, Mr Fitzpatrick,’ the voice said.
The conversation didn’t last long, but by the time Luke replaced the receiver the furrow between his brows had visibly deepened.
He got up and walked across to the window. If only there was someone he could confide in, someone to help him support this insupportable burden. A quick smile crossed his lips as an image of Corrie sprang to his mind. It was something like uncorking a genie, he thought wryly. And yes, he probably could tell her. Not that he expected her to have the answers, but he knew instinctively that she would care, that she would try to understand and do everything she could to help. She was that sort of person. Yes, he probably could tell her, but of course he never would.
Corrie spent the next twenty-four hours in agony. She was nervous, excited, talked for hours on the phone to Paula, and panicked incessantly about what she was going to wear for her dinner with Luke. She was longing to thank Annalise, who she was sure had put Luke up to it, but Annalise had returned to Scotland.
The atmosphere in the office seemed, Corrie thought, slightly better than before, though still no one spoke to her unless they had to. Alan Fox had let up on the practical jokes and insults since his whack on the nose, now he was going about the place snarling and scowling at her like some Walt Disney villain. But what did any of that matter? With Luke Fitzpatrick and Bob Churchill behind her she couldn’t fail.
Throughout the day leading up to their dinner Corrie went through all kinds of scenarios in her mind as to how she was going to handle herself that night. What kind of sparkling conversation could she make, what should she do or say to make a good impression, and, if she dared, what little anecdotes could she tell him that might make him laugh?
At lunchtime she tore off to the King’s Road, bought herself an electric blue suit in Wallis, then in a rash moment dashed up to Peter Jones where she treated herself to a dark red Dior lipstick.
When she was finally ready that evening she wasn’t too sure about the way she looked. It didn’t look much like her gazing back from the mirror, perhaps her skin was too pale for such a bright lipstick, but the freckles didn’t show too much and she managed to convince herself that she looked a little more sophisticated than usual, even though the suit was a bit tight.
Luke had sent a taxi to pick her up and was waiting when she arrived at the restaurant. He ordered them both an aperitif and they talked for a while about TW. Corrie was trying very hard to pay attention, but she couldn’t help noticing the way everyone was looking at them. Two women even came up and asked for Luke’s autograph, while Corrie sat by nearly bursting with pride. Then the menus arrived. Corrie decided to go for the spaghetti.
‘Not one of my more brilliant ideas,’ she laughed nervously as she wiped the front of her suit.
Laughing, Luke gave her some of his lamb to taste. In return Corrie wound some spaghetti round her fork and offered it to him. He seemed highly entertained by this, but leaned forward for her to feed him. Before it reached his mouth, the spaghetti slid off the fork onto the edge of his plate, then slithered into his lap.
‘Well, I guess you probably want to go home now,’ Corrie said. ‘I know I do.’
Luke was laughing so hard that for a while he didn’t answer. In the end he picked up his wine and saluted her. ‘Come on, we’ve got a dessert to get through yet.’
‘No. I have no intention of leaving this restaurant wearing a chocolate mousse as well as spaghetti,’ Corrie declared. ‘You have the dessert, I’ll drink some more wine. And when I’ve finished here, I’ll go home and drown my disgrace in all that I was left with last Friday – thanks to you stealing all my party guests.’
She couldn’t believe how outspoken she was being, but seemed unable to stop. Of course she knew that at any minute she was likely to say something so hideously embarrassing she’d want to stick her head in the oven later, but that he was so clearly enjoying himself was more intoxicating than the wine itself and there was no controlling her exuberance. She even warned him that she was quite capable of coming out with some outrageous faux pas, and gave him the example of the woman who had come into her mother’s dress shop in Amberside, who, she explained, was going to a b
all at her father’s house that night, but she hadn’t known that he was her father then, and anyway it had no significance really to her story. ‘But I heard myself telling this woman that she might end up with a prick in her bum. Her face was a picture. I, of course wanted to die on the spot.’
Again Luke was laughing, but it wasn’t that particular confession that made her want to hop up and down with embarrassment the next morning, it was the next one.
‘You know what, Luke?’ she said, resting her wine glass on her chin, ‘you are just to drop dead for.’
‘I think you mean to die for,’ he corrected her, ‘and you’ve been talking to Annalise. Anyway, tell me some more about where you grew up. Amberside, did you say? Where is it?’
Her humiliation had not yet reached her, so she chattered on quite happily, not thinking for a moment that she might be boring him – that only occurred to her later. Much later.
‘Anyway,’ she finally finished, at last realizing that she’d been rattling on for hours, ‘my mother died just over five months ago and it was soon after that that I came to London. How about you, where did you grow up?’
Luke looked around and only then did Corrie notice that the waiters were putting chairs on the tables. She turned back to Luke in dismay.
‘Come on, I’ll take you home,’ he chuckled, ‘and if you ask very nicely I might come in and help you out with some of that wine I so rudely left you with last week.’
But as they were driving towards the King’s Road the car phone rang and Luke told her that he’d have to take a rain check.
Corrie swallowed her disappointment, and when he had driven away ran inside to ring Paula. It was only when she was half way through dialling that she remembered how late it was.
The next morning her hangover tormented her with memories of all she’d said and done the night before. ‘I just want to die,’ she told Paula. ‘Oh God, when I think of all the things I said. I spent hours telling him all about Amberside and there’s nothing to tell. I tried to be so cool when I told him he was to die for, or drop dead gorgeous, but I got the two confused and I think I told him to drop dead. Oh, Paula, how can I ever face him again?’