by Anne Mather
Her question was answered a few moments later when Tom breezed through the door from outside. He had obviously just arrived. He was tossing his car keys in his hand, and when he saw Grace his expression became even more animated.
‘Hey,’ he said, crossing the office to her desk and standing looking down at her with evident pleasure. ‘Welcome back!’
‘Thanks.’
Grace permitted herself a glance up at him, and was relieved to see that he looked much as usual. If the financial troubles of the centre were bothering him, he didn’t show it, and she envied him his composure. In his position, she thought she’d be tearing out her hair.
‘Journey okay?’ he asked, referring to the flight she’d taken to Newcastle airport. ‘I would have met you, you know. You didn’t have to rely on a cab.’
‘It was fine,’ said Grace, shaking her head, and as she did so she saw Gina regarding them with a puzzled look on her face. She was probably wondering what was going on, reflected Grace. As far as Gina was concerned, Grace was still living in Tom’s house. She would have to correct that assumption at the first possible opportunity.
‘Well, come into the office,’ said Tom, nodding towards his door. ‘I’ve got something I want to tell you.’
Not about Oliver, Grace hoped, getting up from her chair with some reluctance. It was Tom who had told her about seeing Oliver and Miranda together at a charity awards dinner he had attended, and she had no desire to hear any more about them. It was what she’d expected, after all, she told herself, even if the strength of that assertion was wearing very thin.
‘You haven’t forgotten you’re taking me to see the new development at lunchtime, have you, Tom?’ Gina asked as he headed towards his office, and Grace saw the irritated glance he cast in the girl’s direction.
‘I said I’d do it if I had the time,’ he declared, stepping back so that Grace could precede him into the office. ‘Get me some coffee, will you, babe? I’m parched.’
If looks could have killed, they would both have been struck stone-dead, Grace acknowledged as Tom closed the office door behind them. But he seemed oblivious of—or perhaps indifferent to—Gina’s malevolent stare. After ushering Grace to a seat, he dropped into his own chair with apparent complacence.
Then, resting his arms on the desk, he leaned towards her. ‘It’s good to have you back, Grace. The office hasn’t been the same without you.’
‘Really?’ Grace gave him a dry look. ‘You and Gina seem to be on good terms. Since when has she called you “Tom”? It was Mr Ferreira when I went away.’
‘Oh, you know Gina.’ Tom made a careless gesture. ‘She’s an airhead. She likes to think that we’re close, but you know we’re not.’
‘It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,’ said Grace flatly, and then realised that Gina was standing in the doorway behind her, holding the cup of coffee she’d poured for Tom.
There was an awkward moment when none of them spoke, and then Tom said, ‘Oh, is that my coffee, babe? Thanks. You’re a good kid.’
Gina’s features were set and angry as she passed Grace’s chair on her way out, but she didn’t look at the other woman. This time, her anger was solely directed towards Tom himself, and Grace hoped she hadn’t been responsible for causing a rift between them.
‘So,’ she said when the door had closed behind the girl, ‘what is it you want to tell me?’ She almost mentioned the proposed loan, but then realised she wasn’t supposed to know about that. She moistened her lips. ‘Have you managed to solve your financial problems yet?’
Tom regarded her consideringly. ‘Did Oliver tell you?’ he asked, and Grace realised she wasn’t the only one who had been holding things back. ‘You did see him while you were staying in San Luis, didn’t you?’ He paused. ‘And Sophie?’
Grace swallowed, but refusing to be intimidated, she said, ‘Did Sophie tell you that?’
‘Wasn’t she supposed to?’
‘I suppose that depends what she told you,’ said Grace shortly. Then, realising she was being defensive, she added, ‘I don’t have to account for my movements to you, Tom. You’re my employer, nothing else.’
Tom had the grace to look a little discomfited, but he didn’t back down. ‘Sophie told me that you and Oliver had been spending time together,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think I have the right to know if you’ve been screwing my own brother?’
Grace gasped and sprang to her feet. ‘If this is the way it’s going to be from now on, I think I ought to leave,’ she said curtly. ‘What I do or don’t do is not your concern. But for the record, I haven’t been—screwing—anyone!’
What she had shared with Oliver had not been ‘screwing’, she defended herself. Well, not for her, anyway, and that was what this was all about.
‘Okay, okay.’ Tom seemed to realise he had gone too far now, and getting to his feet, he gave her an apologetic look. ‘Sit down, Grace. I’m sorry if I sound peeved, but you must know how I feel about you. Imagining you with Oliver of all people just cuts me up.’
‘I imagine that’s much the way he felt when you seduced his wife,’ retorted Grace, not giving an inch. ‘But I have no intention of making you the guardian of my morals. If—if I want to go out with anyone, I will.’
‘Including Oliver.’
‘Oliver already has a girlfriend,’ she reminded him tersely. ‘You told me so yourself.’
‘Oh, yeah. Right. Right, he does.’ Tom wiped a bead of sweat from his upper lip and appealed to her again. ‘Sit down, please. I do want to tell you about the loan. And I promise I won’t bring up Oliver’s name again.’
Grace hesitated. She suspected deep down this was never going to work. Tom and Oliver had too much history and, whatever happened, she was always going to be a reminder to Tom of what might have been.
But, for now, she subsided into her seat and faced him noncommittally. She did want to know how he intended to rescue the garden centre. Stupidly, she wanted to assure herself that the jobs of all the friends she’d made here would be safe.
‘The bank has agreed to extend my loan,’ said Tom without any further preamble, resuming his own seat and regarding her expectantly. ‘What do you think of that?’
Grace didn’t know what to think. Unwillingly, Oliver’s reaction when he’d heard of what his brother had proposed came to mind, and she badly wanted to ask if he was instrumental in the bank having a change of heart.
But she couldn’t do that without provoking more questions, and if Oliver was involved surely Tom would tell her. For the moment it was enough to know that the future of the garden centre was secure.
‘Um—that’s great,’ she said now, managing to sound as enthusiastic as he expected. ‘You must be relieved.’
‘Oh, I am.’ Tom spoke fervently. ‘I knew it was only a matter of time before something turned up.’
Grace reserved judgment on that. She hadn’t forgotten how depressed Tom had been when she went away even if he had. But although she waited for him to explain why the bank had agreed to extend its loan, he didn’t elaborate, and she decided it was time she got back to work.
Nevertheless, the day seemed endless. Even though she’d thought that getting back into a routine would disperse the gremlins that had been plaguing her ever since she left San Luis, it didn’t seem to work that way. She no longer felt at ease here, and blaming it all on Gina—who spent most of the day casting baleful looks in her direction—or Tom, wasn’t enough.
She suspected Tom was keeping something from her. He had remained determinedly obtuse about the circumstances surrounding his sudden good fortune, and although he had apparently accepted her decision to find a place of her own, his attitude made her wonder if he actually believed it. He could be so smug at times and she didn’t trust him not to have an agenda of his own.
But what agenda? What was he really thinking? She wished she knew.
She was preparing to finish for the day when Gina sidled up to her desk. The girl hadn’t spok
en to her since their conversation that morning. Grace, who was feeling inordinately weary, hoped she wasn’t going to complain to her because Tom hadn’t taken her out to see the new development as he’d apparently promised.
Now, waiting for the girl to speak, she knew an almost visceral feeling of apprehension. What now? she wondered anxiously. Whatever it was, she was too tired to care.
‘It was the charity awards dinner on Tuesday,’ Gina said at last, and Grace arched an inquiring brow. So what? ‘Tom invited me to go with him,’ the girl continued, this time causing a genuine look of surprise to cross Grace’s face. ‘Did he tell you?’
‘I—no,’ Grace said at last, unable to hide her consternation. She’d known Tom had attended the dinner, of course. That was where he’d seen Oliver and Miranda. Together. But he hadn’t mentioned that his date had been his office junior.
‘Well, he did,’ declared Gina triumphantly. ‘And we had a great time!’
‘Well—good.’ Grace’s smile was rueful, but no less warm because of it. It wasn’t Gina’s fault that Tom was acting like a fool. But it explained a lot. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘Are you?’ Gina regarded her suspiciously now. ‘I bet you wish you’d been here. He’d probably have asked you instead of me.’
‘Hey, I wouldn’t bet on it,’ protested Grace quickly, wanting to quash that idea immediately. ‘Tom and I are just working colleagues, you know. We don’t spend our free time together.’
Gina frowned. ‘But you live in his house.’
‘Not any more.’ Grace paused and then decided the girl deserved an explanation. ‘I’m going to get a place of my own. For the present, I’m staying at a bed and breakfast in Ponteland.’
Gina stared at her. ‘But—why?’
‘Oh…’ Grace shook her head. ‘I suppose since Sophie moved out, it hasn’t been the ideal situation. And I need my own space.’
‘So you’re not, like—seeing Tom?’
‘Socially?’ And at Gina’s nod. ‘No.’
Gina considered this. ‘So you’re not jealous?’
‘No.’ Grace was almost amused at that suggestion. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Did he say I was?’
‘He said a lot of things,’ said Gina, looking a little doubtful now. ‘He’d been drinking, you see, and I don’t think he knew half of what was said.’ She sighed. ‘Of course, it was mostly about his brother, Oliver.’ She paused and then continued cautiously, ‘Was that right? Oliver was in Spain when you were there? Tom seemed to think you’d been seeing Oliver behind his back.’
Grace felt a faint flush enter her cheeks. ‘I don’t think Tom has any business discussing what I did or didn’t do when I was on holiday,’ she declared tersely. ‘As I say, it’s nothing to do with him.’
Gina hunched her shoulders. ‘He thinks it is.’
‘Well, it isn’t.’ Grace took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. ‘In any case, Oliver is seeing someone else. You probably met her. She was with him at this dinner you went to, wasn’t she?’
‘Oh—Miranda, yeah.’ Any spark of hope Grace might have had that Tom had been lying was extinguished by Gina’s reply. ‘She was there. But I don’t think she was very happy.’
‘No?’ Grace’s pulse quickened. ‘Why?’
‘Oh, she was really mad because Oliver had left her sitting at the table on her own while he went out of the conference hall to talk to someone else. That was where we met him, actually. In the foyer of the hotel. He seemed in no hurry to get back to her.’
‘Really?’ Grace knew she was clutching at straws, but she couldn’t help it. ‘Why do you say that?’
Gina hesitated. ‘Well, when Tom said he’d like to meet her, Oliver was really reluctant to introduce us.’
‘Oh.’
Grace’s lips tightened. Now she understood. Naturally Oliver would be reluctant to introduce his girlfriend to his brother. First of all, he’d know that Tom would waste no time in telling her that he’d seen them together, which would prove what a liar Oliver was. And secondly, and probably the more important of the two, he had no reason to trust his brother with a woman he loved.
‘Anyway, I’m glad we’ve had this talk,’ Gina said now, and for the first time Grace could remember, she gave the older woman a beaming smile. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, right?’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
O LIVER was sitting at his desk in his riverside apartment, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to make sense of the sheaf of drawings Andy had handed him as he was leaving, when his intercom buzzed.
‘Take a look at these and try and drum up some enthusiasm for the project,’ Andy had advised him drily. ‘And next time you think about taking a holiday, think again. You’ve been as miserable as sin since you got back.’
It was a fair comment, and as Oliver got up to see who had rung he wondered if his partner had decided he needed more than a five-minute pep talk. Andy was a good friend, and Oliver knew he only had his best interests at heart, but right now he didn’t want to see anybody.
Except Grace.
But Grace wasn’t available. When he’d driven up to the garden centre the day after the charity dinner, which was a week ago now, he’d discovered that she wasn’t there. According to Tom, they’d only been in phone contact since she got back from Spain, and while that was good to hear, the fact that Tom thought she intended dumping this job in favour of other employment in London wasn’t. For the present, she was staying with her parents, and that was as much as Tom was prepared to say.
For himself, Oliver had little doubt that he was to blame for Grace’s absence. He had behaved abominably, both before and while they were in Spain, and he could hardly blame her if she thought he was all kinds of a heel. He was sure Tom would have lost no time in telling her that he was seeing Miranda again, and he was sure she was never going to believe that it hadn’t meant a thing.
Okay, he probably shouldn’t have invited Miranda to attend the dinner with him. It hadn’t been his most sensible course of action, but Andy had been adamant that he should represent the firm and it had seemed the only solution.
Besides, he’d wanted to speak to Miranda, to explain why they wouldn’t be seeing one another again, but obviously a social occasion like a charity dinner hadn’t been an intelligent choice of venue. Miranda had got the wrong impression when he’d invited her out, and when he’d finally broken the news to her, she’d taken it badly.
It had been a disastrous evening all round. Tom had been there, enjoying his discomfort, and although Oliver had been relieved that Grace wasn’t with him, he had expected Tom to gloat about his discomfort to her when he got home.
Of course, the next day, when he’d shunned one of Andy’s policy meetings to drive up to Tayford, he’d discovered that Grace wasn’t there either. He suspected Tom had enjoyed that, too, even though Oliver hadn’t specifically said he was there to see her. But the fact remained, in spite of his reluctant involvement in the centre’s financial affairs, he had had no other excuse for making the trip. And Tom, damn him, knew that.
Now, feeling an intense weariness, he pressed the button on the intercom. ‘Yes?’
‘Oliver?’
It was a female voice, but not the female voice he wanted to hear and he swore under his breath. ‘Sophie,’ he said flatly. ‘What do you want?’
‘Is that any way to greet your wife, Oliver?’ Sophie sounded suitably put out. ‘Darling, I want to talk to you. May I come up?’
‘I can’t think of anything we have to say to one another, Sophie,’ said Oliver heavily. ‘And you’re not my wife either. I’m sorry, but—’
‘It’s about Grace,’ Sophie interrupted him swiftly. ‘I’m sure you’ll be interested in what I have to say. Press the button, darling. It’s starting to rain.’
Oliver hesitated. Despite what she’d said, he couldn’t believe that Sophie would know anything more about Grace’s intentions than he did. And, right now, he was in no mood to be civil to anyone, least of all his ex
-wife.
But still…
Against his better judgment, he pressed the button that released the door in the downstairs warehouse and then crossed the room to send the lift down for her. There was no harm in hearing what she had to tell him, he told himself grimly. After all, Tom was no friend of hers.
Sophie stepped out of the lift exuding her own distinctive brand of perfume, but although she would have reached up to kiss his cheek, Oliver drew back. This was no social call, and Sophie was no friend of his either.
‘You’re not still working,’ she protested, clattering across the hardwood floor on her ridiculously high heels. ‘Darling, it’s after nine! Even workaholics like you have to relax sometimes.’
Oliver folded his arms across his chest, tucking his fingertips beneath them, regarding her dourly. ‘Just say what you have to say, Sophie,’ he advised. ‘I’m busy.’
‘I can see that.’ She flicked the papers on his desk with a careless finger. Then she turned to face him. ‘Aren’t you going to offer me a drink? Or don’t you have alcohol on the premises?’
Oliver expelled a heavy sigh. ‘This isn’t a social call, Sophie,’ he said. ‘What do you want?’
Sophie pulled a wry face. ‘Oh, you are gloomy, aren’t you? Tom said you were, but I didn’t believe him.’
‘Tom?’ Oliver scowled. ‘Tom sent you here?’
‘Oh, heavens no.’ Sophie gave a scornful laugh. ‘Tom wouldn’t do that. He’s got far too much to lose.’
Oliver stared at her. ‘What are you talking about? I thought you said this was about Grace.’
‘It is.’ Sophie gave a pitying shake of her head. ‘Don’t you know your brother is besotted with her? He always has been. Ever since he persuaded her to come and work for him. Why do you think I walked out?’
Oliver felt incredibly tired suddenly. ‘I know all this, Sophie. You told me before, remember? You don’t need to labour the point.’