That was one of the things he liked most about her.
* * *
Lula’s heart-rate picked up as Tristan strolled into the room. She sat up straight, attempting to compose herself for whatever was about to play out.
After giving him the cold shoulder since the incident in his office the day before, she wasn’t sure what state their relationship was in any more. Or whether she’d still have a job by the end of the day. After all, the last time she’d stood up to her boss, she’d found herself unemployed.
The thought of him firing her now, after all they’d been though, made her feel sick. But more than that, the idea that he might give up on what they had and waltz back off to Scotland drained all the spirit out of her.
She’d had to draw the line with him though, otherwise she was just some sap he’d used and left behind and she wasn’t prepared to be that girl. Not any more.
He perched on the edge of the sofa she’d been lying on and blew out a low breath before speaking. ‘I just spoke to my father. He wants to shut the station down now that Jez has gone.’
Her heart nearly stopped at the unexpectedly awful news and she sat up so straight her neck clicked. ‘What! Why?’
‘It’s a long story which involves my father being useless and naïve, but before you panic,’ he held up a palm, ‘there’s a solution.’
Her heart rate slowed a little. ‘He’s going to put it on the market? Or whatever you do with a company.’
He shook his head and frowned, fixing her with a steady stare. ‘No one’s going to want to buy it in its current state, the debts are too large and it doesn’t make enough profit for it to be a going concern.’
He paused and a cold chill ran down her spine.
‘So what does that mean?’
His face was devoid of any expression. This was pure business. ‘The best thing for the station is for me to buy it and keep it until it breaks even, then look at finding another investor or buyer for it.’
‘Will you hand over the day to day managing to someone else?’ she asked hopefully. Perhaps she could deal with that, if he was going to be more hands-off.
But she could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t want to do that. He loved running the station. She’d seen first-hand how he thrived on the buzz of the place and how much better it was running now he was in charge.
It was good for him and he was good for it.
‘It’s probably best if I keep managing it too.’
She took a deep breath. ‘How long will it take for it to break even?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to look at streamlining the staff and there may need to be lay-offs, but based on the initial sums I’ve done, maybe years.’
‘Years.’ She put a hand up to her face and rubbed her temple as another horrible thought struck her. ‘I’m the most expensive person here,’ she muttered, recalling how her salary had skyrocketed when she took on the Breakfast Show. Flash could probably retain the rest of the staff if she was off the payroll.
She stood up, and turned for the door, not wanting him to see her face. ‘Actually, this has all come at an opportune time. I’ve been offered a job in Australia, a really good job, and I’ve decided to take it.’ She couldn’t look at him in case he saw the pain in her eyes. ‘You’ll be able to keep everyone else on here if you’re not having to pay me.’
‘What the hell? Where did this come from?’ He advanced on her and she backed against the wall, her blood pounding in her head, making her feel lightheaded.
She held up a hand. ‘Truth is, I can’t do this any more—pretend I don’t want things to work out with you—because I do, and it’s going to drive me crazy to never be able to have what I want.’
‘What do you want, Lula?’ His voice was deep and low and fierce.
She raised her gaze to look him dead in the eye. ‘The hope that you might want to get married to me one day,’ she blurted. ‘To have an equal partnership and a strong unit for my children that I never felt I had. For you to put a relationship with me before everything else. Even your commercial empire.’
He looked as though she’d slapped him round the face. ‘This is about me not wanting to get married.’
‘Ultimately, yes.’
Rubbing a hand over his face, he huffed out a dry laugh. ‘I think my head might be about to explode.’
Tears welled in her eyes at the flippant way he was dealing with something that meant so much to her.
‘If you couldn’t bring yourself to marry the woman who was “perfect for you” then Lord knows I don’t stand a chance,’ she whispered, her chin trembling as she tried to hold it together.
He frowned. ‘Hang on, are you talking about Marcy?’
‘I can’t be your rebound woman, Tristan. I care about you too much for that.’
He didn’t respond, just stared at her open-mouthed for a few beats longer.
She nodded once, knowing he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give her the reassurance she longed to hear, before pushing past him and walking away.
TEN
Tristan stared out of the window as his plane flew over the rolling hills of Northern England on its way to Edinburgh, and reflected on the insight that had struck him hard in the middle of the night: that what he needed was to get some sort of closure there so he could move forwards again.
If he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life messed up and alone he needed to get past the anger and frustration that had been dogging him for months—no, truthfully, years—now.
Standing on the doorstep to his brother’s and Marcy’s house a couple of hours later was both nerve-racking and bolstering. Before this point, even the thought of seeing either of them had been untenable, so this was definitely a positive step forwards.
The look on Marcy’s face when she opened the door to him was a picture. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Tristan!’
He waited for the thud of bitter resentment to hit him, but it didn’t come. Strangely, looking at her now, she seemed kind of ordinary, like the sparkle she used to project had gone. ‘Hi, Marcy, can I come in?’
She glanced behind her into the house as if checking for backup. ‘Jon isn’t here. He’ll be back in a few minutes though.’
‘That’s okay, I’ll wait. I need to talk to you both.’
After hesitating for a couple of seconds she nodded and opened the door wider so he could walk inside.
She led him into the living room and stood there awkwardly while he looked around at the ultra-modern interior. ‘Nice place.’
‘Thanks.’
She clapped her hands together awkwardly and stared out of the window.
‘Why didn’t you ever tell me you were unhappy, Marcy?’ he said.
She gave him such a look of disbelief he wondered for a second whether he’d accidentally sworn at her or something. ‘I tried, Tristan, but you were always too busy to take my concerns seriously.’
He stared at her in confusion. ‘There were plenty of opportunities to talk to me and you know it.’
‘Were there?’ She sighed and glared down at the ground. ‘Look, I’m sorry things happened the way they did. I didn’t handle the situation well, I know that.’
His blood pressure rose at her blatant understatement. Clearly he still felt some resentment towards them then, although nothing like the anger he’d been experiencing for the last few months. His shoulders slumped as he took in her drawn expression. ‘Yeah, well. What’s done is done. I was the idiot that didn’t notice what was happening right under my nose.’
She took a step forwards with her hands outstretched. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, Tristan. I seriously thought you wouldn’t care about us splitting up.’
He pinched his brows together so hard it hu
rt. ‘You thought I wouldn’t care?’
She threw her hands up. ‘You shut down on me, Tristan, kept me at arm’s length. You made me believe there wasn’t a future for us when you refused to even discuss getting married.’
‘But you knew how I felt about that when we first got together. I was always straight with you, Marcy.’
‘I know and I thought it would be enough for me, but then I realised it wasn’t and we kept drifting further and further apart as I got angrier about it.’ She looked at him fiercely now. ‘Jon made me feel wanted.’
Her obvious contempt for Tristan’s lack of skill in that department stung, leaving an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. ‘Yeah, he was always good at giving people what they want.’
Marcy frowned. ‘Look, he feels awful about all this too.’
Tristan closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Now he was here with Marcy he was surprised by how little he felt for her, especially when he compared it to how he felt about Lula. While he’d always found Marcy attractive and smart and good company she hadn’t excited him the way Lula excited him.
After having been so caught up in the humiliation of being rejected and lied to, he’d lost sight of the fact he hadn’t actually missed Marcy at all and by coming here he was finally coming to terms with that part of his life being over now. He was moving on from anger to acceptance.
Lula’s face flashed into his mind as he thought about what Marcy had said about him refusing to even talk about getting married. Her expression had been pretty similar when he’d told her the same thing.
The pressure in his chest increased as he remembered how she’d walked out on him.
She thought he was a lost cause too.
No wonder she was keeping him at arm’s length.
He focussed back on Marcy, willing the tightness in his chest to recede. ‘Look, Jon’s not exactly my favourite person right now, but I’m not going to snub him for ever. We’re family and we need to stick together.’
He ran a hand over his hair. ‘I’ve thought of a way he can make things right between us and hopefully set himself up well for the future too.’
‘Really? You’re finally going to give him the opportunity to help you run the family business? Because he’s always felt like a spare part there.’
Tristan sighed. It was a good point, he’d never let Jon take the reins at any point—he’d been too stubborn to delegate any of the responsibility, and that probably went some way to explaining why his brother hadn’t bothered coming in to work much. He hadn’t allowed him to have any of the control.
‘Look, I know I’ve not handled things well either. I should have talked to both of you more and asked for help instead of pretending everything was okay. And I’m sorry for leaving it so long before re-establishing contact, but I needed a bit of time to hate the both of you before I got on with my life.’
Marcy nodded and gave him a watery smile. ‘I understand.’
‘Yeah,’ Tristan said, his mind suddenly clearer than it had been in years. ‘I think I do too.’
He’d been an idiot, assuming everything would work out fine with Lula too if he just ignored the fact she was dead set on getting married and having her happy ever after. Something he hadn’t thought he was capable of giving her when they first met.
But she’d made the effort to stand up to him, unlike Marcy who had just given up on their relationship without letting him know why.
Lula wasn’t a coward. She was the bravest woman he’d ever met. He knew he could be formidable when he put his mind to it but she hadn’t put up with his crap.
He’d spent so much of his life hardening himself against caring too deeply about other people, in case they left him too, that he’d become a hollow shell of his former self.
Money had become his first and only love and look how that had left him—lonely and bitter.
Now he thought about it, the thing he’d found hardest about Marcy leaving him had been how unprepared he’d been when she’d wrenched away his control. He’d spent his entire life keeping things on track, determined not to live his life in the kamikaze fashion his father did, but he realised he’d missed out on so much by not taking risks. Marcy had left him and he’d survived and now he was on the cusp of losing Lula because of his inability to let go of the stranglehold he had on his life.
He wasn’t prepared to let that happen.
He was sure about Lula.
He loved her.
Nothing was guaranteed in this life—the perfect relationship didn’t exist—but he wanted to believe he was strong enough in character to stick by his choices and work through any hiccoughs. His father might not be able to do it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t.
* * *
‘Uurgh! Em, what have I done? I’m made a royal mess of everything!’ Lula moaned into her sofa cushion, as Emily rubbed soothing circles on her back.
They’d spent the morning together and Lula had become increasingly depressed about the hot mess her life had become.
‘Whatever possessed me to talk to a man I’ve barely even been dating for a few weeks about getting married. No wonder he’s kept a low profile since then, I probably scared the bejeezus out of him.’
‘Clearly it needed to be said though, Lu. You couldn’t have gone on hoping things would just work out all fine and dandy without letting him know what you needed out of a relationship. Although, point taken about coming off as a little bit needy.’
‘A little bit!’ Lula grimaced. ‘No wonder I don’t seem to be able to hold onto a man.’
Emily batted a hand at her. ‘Aah, you just have very high expectations.’
Lula buried her head in the sofa again. ‘But I really liked him, Em.’ She looked up at her friend, unable to stop the tears from welling in her eyes. ‘Really liked him.’ She picked a bit of lint of the cushion. ‘In fact, I think I’m in love with him.’
Emily gave her a weak smile and gently rubbed her arm in sympathy. ‘Yeah, I know, babe, that’s pretty obvious.’
The loud rasp of the buzzer made them both jump.
‘You expecting someone?’ Emily asked, already levering herself off the sofa.
‘No.’
‘I’ll get rid of them,’ Emily said, striding purposefully towards the door. Sometimes Lula was extraordinarily glad of her friend’s no-nonsense approach to life. It made her feel safe and protected; something she’d never had a sense of in her youth.
She sank back into the cushions, listening to the low rumble of voices at the door, wondering who it could be. She didn’t have to wonder for long as Emily strode back in with tense shoulders and a guess who? expression on her face with Tristan following closely behind her.
All Lula could think in those moments was he’s here and her heart soared with hope.
‘Sorry, Lu, I told him you didn’t want to see him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.’ She turned back to scowl at Tristan, but he totally ignored her.
‘Lula, I need to speak to you,’ Tristan said, taking a step past Emily, towards where she sat on the sofa, his dominating presence seeming to take over the whole room.
‘I hope you’re here to persuade her to stay, because you’d be an idiot to let someone as amazing as Lula walk away,’ Emily said behind him, folding her arms and glaring at the back of Tristan’s head.
He turned to meet Emily’s gaze and held it, the air crackling with angry tension between them.
It was like watching two stags vying for supremacy.
Lula put up a calming hand to her friend. ‘Thanks, Em, but I can handle this on my own.’
Emily narrowed her eyes at Tristan. ‘Okay, but you’d better not let her just skip off to Oz or you’ll have me to answer to,’ she said, finally breaking eye contact with him and walking over to Lula to give her a hug.
‘I’m only a phone call away if you need me,’ she murmured into her ear, before pulling away and shooting Tristan one last warning frown.
Tristan dipped his head and raised a brow. ‘Nice seeing you again,’ he said, his voice laden with sarcasm, as Emily spun on her heel and walked out of the room, slamming the front door behind her.
He turned his dark gaze on Lula and she had to fight back her surge of nerves so as not to turn into a complete gibbering wreck.
‘God help any man trying to get close to her, that’s all I can say,’ he muttered, shaking his head in apparent amusement.
Lula twisted her fingers together. ‘Em’s had a pretty tough life so she’s a bit defensive, but she’s a really caring, lovely person when you get to know her.’
He flashed a smile. ‘I guess she must be okay if you like her.’
‘Are you here to persuade me not to leave?’ she managed to say past the lump in her throat. ‘Because I don’t see any presents or cryptic notes.’
He huffed out a laugh. ‘It’s just me this time. I was hoping that would be enough.’
She broke eye contact and stared at her lap. ‘I can’t work for you any more, Tristan.’
He paced across the room, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the peg by her door before returning to her sofa and sitting down next to her.
So he wasn’t accepting her resignation then.
Leaning his elbow against the back of the sofa, he propped his head against his hand and studied her for a moment.
Her blood pounded in her throat as she waited for him to say his bit and she picked at a thread on the cushion so she didn’t have to look at him.
‘I’ve been thinking about how empty my life would be if you moved to Australia,’ he said finally.
Her gaze snapped to his and she pinched her brows together. ‘Well, you should be kept pretty busy here in London at the radio station.’
He sighed. ‘Lula, I’m not going to move to London if you’re not here.’
She could actually hear the blood pulsing through her head. ‘Really?’
‘No, of course not. It’s a Lula-sized hole in my life that I’m concerned about, not a London-sized one.’
Fired by Her Fling Page 15