by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
Like the existence of his PR Director and soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Or perhaps the possibility of buying This Minute. Thea didn’t kid herself about which of those was more important to the man across the desk.
‘So, Thea.’ Ezekiel hung up the phone. It was a proper old-fashioned one, with a handset attached by a cord and everything. ‘Dare I hope that you’re here with good news about my youngest son?’
Thea winced. ‘Not...exactly.’
‘Ah.’ Leaning back in his seat, the old man steepled his fingers over his chest. ‘So Zeke is still refusing to consider selling This Minute to Morrison Ashton?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Thea said. ‘He...he seems quite set on his decision, I’m afraid. And he says he’s ready to move on from This Minute, so even offering him positions within the company didn’t seem to help. He’s looking for a new challenge.’
Ezekiel shook his head. ‘That boy is always looking for an impossible challenge.’
He was wrong, Thea thought. Apart from anything else, Zeke was certainly no longer a boy. He’d grown up, and even if he’d always be twenty-one and reckless in the eyes of his family, she could see it. Had felt it in the way he’d kissed her, held her. Had known it when he’d told her the real reasons she hadn’t left with him. He saw the truth even if she didn’t want to face it. She had been scared. Even if in the end the choice had been taken away from her, and she’d had to stay for Helena, she knew deep down she’d never really thought she’d go. Hadn’t been able to imagine a future in which she climbed out of that window and followed him.
Which was strange, because it was growing easier by the hour for her to imagine running out on this wedding and chasing after him. Not that she would, of course.
And not that he’d asked.
He’d wanted her to admit her mistake, had wanted to prove a point. But, kiss aside, there’d been no real thought or mention of wanting her.
Maybe Ezekiel was right. Maybe she was just his latest impossible challenge.
‘Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed,’ Ezekiel said, straightening in his chair. ‘Still, I’m glad that you tried to convince him. That tells me a lot.’
Thea blinked at him. ‘Tells you what, exactly?’
‘It speaks to your commitment to the company—and to Flynn, of course. And it tells me that both you and Zeke have moved past your...youthful indiscretion.’
Heat flared in Thea’s cheeks at his words. Youthful indiscretion. As if her history with Zeke was something to be swept under the carpet and forgotten about.
But wasn’t that what she was doing by not telling Flynn about it?
Thea shook her head. ‘I don’t think that the childhood friendship Zeke and I shared would influence either of us in the matter of a business decision,’ she said, as calmly and flatly as she could manage.
‘Thea,’ Ezekiel said, his tone mildly chastising. ‘My son was in love with you once. He would have done anything for you. That he’s said no to you on this matter tells me that he has moved on, that he no longer feels that way about you. And the fact that you asked him in the first place, knowing his...feelings for the family business—well, as I say, it’s good to know where your loyalties lie.’
Nausea crept up Thea’s throat as she listened to the old man talk. She knew he was right. She chosen work and business over a man she’d once thought hung the moon. Over someone who, whatever she might say to his face, still mattered to her. All because the old man across the desk had asked her to.
Worst of all was the sudden and certain knowledge that he’d known exactly what he was doing. This was the only reason Ezekiel had asked her to talk to Zeke about This Minute in the first place. It had been a test. Just like suggesting that she marry Flynn. Just like Zeke asking her for one true reason why she’d stayed. Just like her father, eight years ago, when she’d broken the news to him about Helena. Just like her first two engagements.
It was all a test—a way to find out if she was worthy of being a Morrison or an Ashton. Pushing her and prodding her to see how she’d react, how she’d cope, what decision she’d make, how she’d mess up this time. Her whole life was nothing more than a series of tests.
And the worst thing was she knew she was only ever one wrong answer away from failing. Just as she’d failed Helena.
Slowly, her head still spinning with angry thoughts, Thea got to her feet. ‘I’m glad that you’re satisfied, sir,’ she said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and prepare for the rehearsal dinner.’
‘Of course...of course.’ Ezekiel waved a hand towards the door. ‘After all, your most important role in this company is still to come tomorrow, isn’t it?’
Thea barely managed a stiff nod before walking too fast out of the office, racing up the stairs, and throwing up in her bathroom.
* * *
When Zeke stepped out of the bathroom, a towel tightly tied around his waist, Helena was already sitting on his bed, halfway through a large glass of wine.
‘Hang on.’ Grabbing his suit hanger from the front of the wardrobe, he stepped back into the steam-filled bathroom and dressed quickly. At least he’d be ready for the rehearsal dinner early, and he’d feel better having whatever conversation this was fully dressed.
Helena handed him a glass of wine and he sat on the desk chair across the room, watching her, waiting for her to start.
She bit her lip, took another sip of wine, then said, ‘Okay, so this isn’t a story many people know.’
‘Okay...’
‘But I think it’s important that you know it. It... Well, it might explain a bit about how Thea became...Thea.’
Anything that did that—that could explain how the free and loving girl he’d known had become the woman who’d left him at the side of the road today—had to be some story. ‘So tell it.’
Helena’s whole upper body rose and fell as she sucked in a breath. ‘Right. So, it was a month or so before Thea’s birthday. Before you left. I was sixteen. And stupid. That part’s quite important.’ She dipped her head, gazing down at her hands. ‘Thea was babysitting for me one night. Dad was off at some business dinner, I guess. And even though I’d told him a million times that sixteen-year-olds don’t need babysitters he was very clear. Thea was in charge. What she said went, and she was responsible for anything that happened while he was out.’
‘Sounds like your dad,’ Zeke murmured, wondering where this was going. ‘I guess something happened that night?’
‘I...I wanted to go out. I asked Thea, and she said no, so I nagged and whined until she gave in. I had a date with this guy a couple of years ahead of me in school. I knew Thea didn’t like him, so I kinda left that part out when I told her I was going.’
Zeke had a very bad feeling about this story all of a sudden. ‘What happened?’ he asked, the words coming out raw and hoarse.
‘He took me to his friend’s house. There was beer, and some other stuff. And the next thing I knew...’ Helena scrubbed a hand across her eyes. ‘Anyway... They told me it was my own fault—that I’d said yes and I just couldn’t remember. I was so ashamed that I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Thea. Not until six weeks later.’
‘The night of her party?’ Zeke guessed. She’d been crying, he remembered, when he’d climbed in her window to tell her he was going and ask if she’d decided to come or not. He’d thought it had been because she’d decided to stay.
‘Yeah. I wouldn’t have, but...I was pregnant.’
The air rushed out of Zeke’s lungs. ‘Oh, Helena...’
‘I know. So I told Thea, and she told Dad for me, and then I got sent away for the summer until the baby was born.’
Helena’s voice broke at last. Zeke thought most people would have given in to tears long before. Happy-go-lucky Helena hid a core of steel.
‘She was adopted, and I ne
ver saw her again.’
Zeke crossed the room in a second, wrapping an arm around her as she cried. ‘I should have been here.’ Helena had been a little sister to him in a way Thea never had been. They’d been more. But Helena... Helena had been important to him too, and he hadn’t even said goodbye. Hadn’t dreamt of what she might be going through.
Helena gave a watery chuckle. ‘What could you have done? Besides, I had Thea.’
This was what she’d meant. Why she’d had to stay. He’d always thought—believed deep down—that her words about Helena and her family were excuses. But they weren’t. Helena really had needed her. Of course she’d stayed. But why hadn’t she told him?
‘But there’s a reason I’ve told you this,’ Helena said, snapping him back to the present. ‘You have to understand, Zeke. Things changed after that night, and you weren’t there to see it. You remember how it was—how Dad pushed her into taking over Mum’s role after she died? He expected her to be able to do everything. School, the house, playing hostess for his clients, looking after me...’
‘I remember,’ Zeke said, bitterness leaking into his voice. She’d hated it so much. ‘It was wrong. Hell, she was—what? Fourteen? Nobody should have that kind of responsibility at that age.’
‘Well, she thought it was her responsibility. And so did he. So when all this happened...’ Helena swallowed so hard Zeke could see it. ‘He blamed her. Said that if she’d paid more attention it never would have happened. He took it all away from her. And that was when Isabella stepped in.’
‘My mum?’
Helena nodded. ‘She took over. She ran our house as well as yours. She became part of the family more than ever. She looked after me, played hostess for Dad...’
‘She pushed Thea out,’ Zeke finished for her. How had he not noticed that? Not noticed how little a place Thea seemed to have, even in her own wedding.
‘Yeah. I wasn’t here to start with, so I don’t really know the whole of it. But ever since it’s been like Thea’s been trying to find her way back in. Find a place where she belongs.’
‘And you think that’s why she’s marrying Flynn?’
Helena tilted her head to the side. ‘I don’t know. That’s what I... I worry, that’s all.’
And she was right to. Of course that was what Thea was doing. She’d practically admitted as much to him, even if he hadn’t understood her reasoning.
‘And the thing is, Zeke,’ Helena went on, ‘despite everything Thea blames herself for what happened to me and what happened next. She always has. Even though it isn’t her fault—of course it isn’t. But she was responsible for me that night. That’s what Dad told her. And she thinks that if she hadn’t let me go out that night everything would have been different.’
‘Her fault?’ Zeke echoed, baffled. ‘How can she possibly...?’
‘She calls it the biggest mistake she ever made.’
Suddenly Zeke was glad that Helena didn’t know what Thea had given up to stay with her. He couldn’t blame either of them any more. But could he make Thea see that one mistake didn’t mean she had to keep making the same safe decisions her whole life?
‘Thank you for telling me this, Helena.’
Helena gave a little shrug. ‘Did it help?’
‘Yeah. I think so.’
Pulling away, Helena watched his face as she asked, ‘So, do you think you can talk Thea out of this wedding?’
‘I thought I was supposed to be making sure the groom showed up on time?’
‘If she decides to go through with it, yeah. But I want to be very sure that she’s doing this for the right reasons. Not just because she’s scared of being pushed out again for not doing what the family wants.’
Zeke grinned. ‘Looks like we’re on the same side, then.’
‘Good.’ Standing up, Helena smoothed down her dress and wiped her eyes. ‘About time I had some help around here. Now, come on, best man. We’ve got a rehearsal dinner to get to.’
‘And a wedding to get called off,’ Zeke agreed, following her to the door.
He had his closure now, but he had far more, too. He had the truth. The whole story. And that was what would make all the difference when he confronted Thea this time.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEA SCANNED THE dining room through the crack of the door, then glanced down at her deep red sheath dress, wondering why she felt as if she was walking into a business dinner. Of all the people she’d recognised in the room, waiting for them to walk in, only three had been family. Everyone else was someone she’d met across a conference table. This time tomorrow she’d be married, and her whole new life would start. But she was very afraid, all of a sudden, that her new life might be a little too much like her old one.
‘Ready?’ Flynn asked, offering her his arm.
He looked handsome in his suit, Thea thought. All clean-shaven and broad shoulders. Safe. Reliable. Predictable. Exactly what she’d decided she wanted in life.
‘Or do you want to sneak into Dad’s study for a shot of the good brandy before we face the gathered hordes?’
Thea smiled. ‘Tempting, but probably not advisable. Besides, your Dad’s almost certainly still working in there.’
‘There is that.’ Flynn sighed. ‘I had hoped he’d see this as more of a family celebration than a networking opportunity.’
Nice to know she wasn’t the only one who had noticed that. ‘I guess he doesn’t see any reason why it can’t be both. I mean, he knows our reasons for getting married. He helped put together the contract, for heaven’s sake.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Flynn said, sounding wistful. ‘It’s business. I just... It would be nice if we could pretend, just for a couple of days, that there’s something that matters more to us.’
Thea stared at him. She was going to marry this man tomorrow, and she’d never once heard him speak so honestly about their life or their relationship.
‘Flynn? Are you...?’ Are you what? Getting cold feet? Unhappy with me? Not the time for that conversation, Thea. ‘Did you want to wait? To get married, I mean? To someone you’re actually in love with?’
Because it was one thing to marry a man you didn’t love because that was the deal. Another to do it when he was secretly holding out for more. She thought back to their conversation on the porch, about kids and the future. How happy he’d been at the idea of a family.
But Flynn shook his head, giving her a self-deprecating smile. ‘Don’t listen to me,’ he said. ‘We’re doing the right thing here. For us and for the business. And, yeah, the fairytale would be nice, I guess. But it’s not all there is. And who knows? Maybe you and I will fall in love one day.’
But they wouldn’t, Thea knew, with the kind of sudden, shocking certainty that couldn’t be shifted. As much as she liked, respected and was fond of Flynn, and as much as she enjoyed his company, she wasn’t ever going to be in love with him. She knew how that felt, and it wasn’t anything like this.
Thea tried to smile back, but it felt forced. ‘Are you ready to go in?’ she asked, wishing she’d just said yes when he’d asked her the same question. The knowledge she’d gained in the last two minutes seemed too much for her body—as if she could barely keep it inside on top of every other thought she’d had and fact she’d learned since Zeke came home.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ Flynn said, flashing her a smile. ‘Let’s go.’
He pushed the door open and the volume level of conversation in the room dipped, then dropped, then stalled. Everyone stood, beaming at them, waiting for them to walk in and take their seats as if they were some kind of royalty. And all Thea could see was Zeke and Helena, standing together near the head of the huge table, leaning into each other. Helena murmured something Thea couldn’t hear, and Zeke’s lips quirked up in a mocking grin. Talking about her? Thea didn’t care. All s
he knew was that she wanted to be over there, chatting with them, and not welcoming the fifty-odd other people who had somehow got themselves invited to her rehearsal dinner.
She let Flynn take the lead. His easy way with people meant that all she had to do was smile and nod, shake the occasional hand. She let him lead her to their seats, smiled sweetly at everyone around them as she sat down.
Her father nodded to Flynn, and Isabella said, ‘Oh, Thea, you look so beautiful tonight. And those pearls are a perfect match! I’m so glad.’
Thea’s hand unconsciously went to the necklace Isabella had given her. The perfectly round pearls were hard and cold under her fingers. You were supposed to wear pearls often, weren’t you? To keep them warm and stop them cracking or drying, perhaps?
‘Aren’t pearls supposed to be bad luck?’ Helena asked, topping up her glass of wine from the bottle on the table.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Isabella said, laughing lightly. ‘And, besides, who believes those old superstitions, anyway?’
‘“Pearls mean tears”,’ Helena quoted, her voice firm and certain. ‘And you’re the one who insisted on Thea having all the old, new, borrowed and blue stuff.’
‘I like pearls,’ Thea said, glancing in surprise at her sister. It wasn’t like Helena to antagonise Isabella. For a moment it was almost as if the old teenage Helena was sitting beside her. ‘I don’t think they mean anything.’
There was silence for a moment, before the doors opened and a fleet of waiters entered, ready to serve the starters. They waited until every bowl was ready and in position, then lowered them all to the table at the same time, before disappearing again as silently as they’d come.
‘Saved by the soup,’ Zeke murmured from two seats down as he reached for the butter.
Thea studied him as he buttered his roll, and kept watching as Helena topped up his wine, too. He must have walked home, she supposed. His forehead was ever so slightly pink from the sun. But he didn’t seem angry, or tense as he had earlier. He seemed calm, relaxed. Even happy.