Second Chance with the Playboy

by Charlotte McFall

  Marcus still hadn’t told Annabel what he had discovered with the accounts. There hadn’t seemed to be enough time before she walked away. How the hell that woman had come up with the idiotic idea that, because of Emily, he would repair his relationship with Josie and say goodbye to what could have been a future with her boggled his mind. Women sometimes!

  Taking his phone out of his back pocket, he dialed Mr. Underwood’s number. “Could I speak to Mr. Underwood please?”

  “Yes, just one moment.” The voice on the other end seemed smooth and cold.

  Within a few minutes, Marcus had the chairman of the board on the line. “Mr. Underwood, I wonder if I could set up a business meeting with you today.” He waited for an answer. “It would need to be in private. I wouldn’t want certain people overhearing. Perhaps we could meet this evening over at the Grand Hotel? They have a very nice bistro restaurant.”

  Receiving the confirmation he needed, Marcus arranged for the meeting to take place at seven that evening. One thing that had surprised him was that the chairman hadn’t been surprised to hear from someone, almost as though he knew what Marcus had wanted without it being spoken of.

  On the way back, Marcus’s mind overflowed with Annabel. She had accessed the files without permission, even though she had been given the details. “Could she get arrested for hacking?” he mumbled to himself. Who had sent her the information and why? Perhaps, if he could unravel everything and solve the mystery, Annabel might want him back. At the beginning, he had thought it was just a bit of fun, giving something back. Marcus had no idea how over the space of a few days he could fall so heavily in love with Annabel all over again. He had been hit by a steamroller, and for once, he had no idea whether he was coming, going, or even left the building.

  His dreams swirled with memories of them lying together, of playing childish games on the beach. He felt emptier now than he ever had before. He had hated himself for keeping things from her, but once he had admitted them, he couldn’t take them back. Would Annabel have preferred to remain in blissful ignorance of everything in his life?

  Marcus had been around the block more than once. Meaningless one-night stands satisfied his urges but left him feeling as empty and unhappy as before. One night with Annabel had meant everything. He never usually went in for feelings like this. Marcus preferred to keep a distance from everyone and his morbid sense of self-preservation to himself. Annabel had broken down his resolve the minute he saw her again. The only thing for certain was that the happiness he felt could only be found in Annabel’s loving arms. By the time he had fought through the traffic jams and got back to Brighton, it was nearly time for his meeting. His ribs had started to hurt again from doing too much in one day.

  “Would you like me to park your car, sir?” the valet asked him.

  “Sure, I won’t need it till tomorrow,” he replied quickly, grabbing the envelope out of the glove box and handing the valet his car keys.

  Marcus wandered slowly into the hotel and into the Bistro. Soft lighting lit up the white linen tablecloths as soft jazz played in the background. He’d had the foresight to book a table for him and a guest. But he had no idea who that guest looked like apart from his name.

  A rather dapper gentleman with a black walking stick and top hat walked into the restaurant. He seemed more suitable to the Victorian era than the twenty-first century, but he supposed this was an era where anything went fashion wise.

  The waiter approached with the strange gentleman in tow. “Your guest has arrived, sir. Mr. Underwood.”

  Marcus stood and shook the man’s hand. “Very pleased to meet you.” He hated being so formal, but he wasn’t someone he knew and it was only right.

  “Oh, Thomas, please. I don’t usually go in for the formalities myself.”

  “Marcus. Would you like to order first?”

  “No, you called this meeting, and I must say I am intrigued.” Mr. Underwood’s voice sounded rather scratchy and rough.

  “One of your doctors, Annabel Simpson, received a very strange phone call and then an email.” Marcus paused to judge his companion’s reaction, but there wasn’t one. The man kept his face a mask. “In the email were log-in details for the hospital accounts.”

  “Ahh, so she did receive the email. I did wonder,” replied Mr. Underwood.

  “You sent the email and gave the phone call?” Marcus tried to hide his surprise.

  “Yes, she phoned me just after her meeting with Mr. Wild about the children’s ward. I must say I was quite surprised with what she had to say.”

  “Did you think it strange then?”

  “Most definitely strange. There was always enough money for the hospital to run efficiently and to full capacity without closures. Yet over the last three years, there have been threats of closures of several wards.”

  Marcus tried to keep up as Mr. Underwood sped up his speech. “I knew something wasn’t quite right. All I get each year is a fiscal report, and the figures seem to add up, but the hospital is struggling for money.”

  “I’m an accountant, and I have looked into the figures which Annabel…” Marcus corrected himself. “Er…Doctor Simpson gave me. There are, I believe, two people involved, although I cannot be sure about that. You need to contact the police.” Marcus took the printed pages out of the envelope and handed them to his guest. “If you see where I have highlighted, that is where the money is going. Fortunately, whoever has been doing it hasn’t done a good job.”

  “They fooled me,” Mr. Underwood replied his eyes downcast.

  “I knew when Anna told me what Mrs. Higginbottom told her—you use a third-party company to buy equipment—that was where the money was going. From there, goodness knows where it has gone.” Marcus felt sorry for the chairman, who would possibly lose his position for this. Someone knew what they were doing and covering up enough so it wouldn’t be easily be spotted unless you knew where to look and for what.

  The elder gentleman shook his head. “We don’t use a third-party to buy equipment. The hospital buys it themselves. As and when it is needed.” What had been going on finally dawned on Mr. Underwood. The poor man looked green.

  “You need to get the police involved and get whoever is the one doing the accounts questioned.” Handing over the rest of the paperwork to Mr. Underwood, he said, “Here. I think you’ll need these. There’s just one thing?”

  “Just name it.”

  “Annabel shouldn’t have accessed the information. I don’t want her in any trouble. The police can question me if they so wish, but Dr. Simpson has to stay out of trouble.”

  “Don’t worry. As I was the one who phoned her and gave her the passwords, I guarantee you there will be no trouble.” His guest took a sip of his wine “The day Annabel phoned me, I was concerned. Yes, every hospital has cuts, maybe the new high-tech equipment you want would have to wait for another year, but the cuts wouldn’t be enough to shut a ward down.”

  “Mr. Wild has tried shutting down the ward before. Why the same one?” inquired Marcus.

  “I don’t know the answer to that, unless because it is a high-dependency ward. The money for its upkeep is larger than for say a basic ward.”

  Marcus thought about everything. “And that would mean more money could be stolen if it wasn’t going to the kids.”

  “Exactly, it seems such a simple plan now that we are discussing it like this. I will be forever in your debt, young man.” Mr. Underwood shook Marcus’s hand. “Please don’t worry about Doctor Simpson. She is one of our best assets.”

  Marcus nodded but said no more. Everything that needed to be said had been. The two men shook hands again and parted company. Marcus had done all he could do, and all that was left for him was to sit back, wait, and watch. He took out his phone and started to text Anna. No, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Why did you walk away? Marcus was determined to win her back, but he had no idea how on earth he would do that. To hell with it. He penned a simple text message—can I see you?
She would no doubt ignore it, but at least Annabel would know he was thinking about her until he could formulate a plan.

  As he took the lift up to his hotel room, his phone started ringing. Annabel. Just as he was about to answer it went dead. Had she meant to phone him, or was it an accident and she meant to phone someone else? When she didn’t ring again, the only thing he could conclude was she had rung him by accident.

  ****

  Annabel canceled the call and put her phone down, which was stupid. What if he had picked it up? She had only wanted to listen to his voice on the answering machine. But she had forgotten to hide her number. Hopefully, Marcus would think she had called by accident, and she prayed he wouldn’t phone her back. She missed him more than she thought she ever would.

  Her phone flashed and beeped indicating a message, and she picked the device up cautiously as though it would burn her. Annabel’s heart skipped a beat as she read Marcus’s message. No, she wouldn’t see him. She couldn’t, the pain of being told he was with Josie would be too much to bear. Now that was a question. Could you actually be jealous of someone you didn’t know?

  Rachel—that’s who she needed, and a girly night with her best friend. Would she come, though?

  Annabel dialed Rachel’s number. It rang for what seemed like an eternity before it was answered. “Rach, any chance you can come round?”

  “Half an hour, babe. I’m just having dinner,” Rachel replied.

  ****

  “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Rachel.”

  Rachel looked lovingly at Dr. Walker. “Don’t worry, darling, I do. Annabel and Marcus need to sort themselves out.”

  Rachel looked around the hotel bar; it had a very upmarket feel to it, leather seating, and soft lights. She had done her research into Mr. Chapman and found out all about his past seeing as Annabel had been extremely vague on the whole subject. She could tell when they had first met on the ride, there was an undercurrent of sexual tension between them. Something had happened, and all that business at the service station. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Marcus sitting alone at a corner table.

  Wandering over, Rachel took a deep breath, “Marcus?”

  Marcus looked up at her nonchalantly. “Yes?” His voice was flat and lifeless.

  “I don’t know if you remember me.” She shifted from foot to foot. “I’m Rachel, Annabel’s friend.”

  “Is something wrong with Anna?”

  “No, no, not at all,” Rachel replied, waving her hands in front of her. “It’s just that she’s been so sad, and I thought that maybe…”

  “What? Maybe it had something to do with me?” Marcus took a long slow sip of his drink. “She was the one that ended things.”

  “Maybe she had a reason for it, or maybe she just didn’t want to get in the way.”

  “Of what? I’m not doing anything.” Marcus stood up, “I don’t mean to be rude, Rachel, but I’ve nothing more to say.”

  Rachel watched Marcus wander away. Well, that went well, didn’t it, she thought to herself. Any fool could see he loved her friend, and if Annabel would only admit it to herself, she was in love with him. What was keeping them apart?

  “Darling, don’t you have to go and see Annabel?”

  “Yes, and perhaps I could persuade her to tell me everything.” Rachel reached up and kissed her boyfriend. “I knew there was a good reason I was with you, Dr. Walker.”

  ****

  Annabel slouched back in her armchair; at least for a while tonight, she wouldn’t be alone. Her heart ached, and she felt like a large part of her was missing. Marcus was missing; she missed his goofy laugh, those sexy black biker leathers of his. The way her name rolled off his tongue, his strong muscular arms wrapped around her. She loved him, loved him in a way she hadn’t loved any other man. A feeling of bereavement washed over her. He would never be hers.

  Marcus had a right to start again with Josie, and she wasn’t going to stand in his way. The two of them deserved to be happy. At least this time, she had a happy memory of them being together. She couldn’t blame him. She had walked away, knowing that if she didn’t at least give him a chance to be with Josie, she would never forgive herself.

  She thought back to when she first moved to the house 8 months ago. Marcus hadn’t even been in her thoughts, nothing had except to start again. That feeling of needing to belong had been really strong. But her two bedroom house with a sea view was turning into one big nightmare. She barely knew any of the neighbors, her only real friend was Rachel, and she had her own life to lead. Looking around her kitchen, packing boxes and black bin liners still sat around the room. Loads of stuff that had been bought as an I’ll use it once I’m settled in item but had never bothered.

  The worst thing about living in Brighton as opposed to Sompting or any other small town in Sussex was she didn’t know that many people. At least in Sompting, she had grown up with her friends, but as was so often the case, people had moved away, creating lives for themselves, and she had moved to Brighton for her job. She was too busy at work to form close bonds with anyone. The next-door neighbor had done some shopping for her when she couldn’t because she had worked two days straight.

  Opening the front door every day, she was greeted with an empty silence. She would sometimes shout hello, to make herself feel better. It made Annabel sad not to have anyone to discuss her day or to go out with for meals. Rachel didn’t need her constant whining and moaning about things just because she was feeling lonely and sad.

  Annabel wondered if she should get a parrot. At least that way, she would have someone to talk to at night and sit on the sofa with her to watch television.

  Annabel opened the heavy oak door. “Hey, Rach.”

  “Hey, honey.” Rachel greeted her friend in her usual cheerful manner.

  Annabel just stood, one hand on the front door.

  “Are you going to invite me in? Or am I going to stand outside all night?”

  “Sorry, I’m not with it. Come through to the kitchen.” Annabel moved to the side and allowed her friend into the house.

  “You going somewhere?”

  Her friend looked at all her unpacked bags and boxes. “No, I decided to get the boxes out and finally sort them out. I’d thrown them all in the garage but thought maybe it was time to make this more of a home.” Picking a small bag up, she tossed it toward the stairs. “I’m going to put it all in the spare room when I have the energy.”

  “Oh, come on. I thought you liked it here?”

  “I do. It’s just that…” The words caught in Annabel’s throat. “Do you know how many people I talk to at home excluding you and the neighbor?”

  “Go on, then. Surprise me.”

  “None, Rach. I sit here alone every night with the stupid television to keep me company.”

  “Come on. Let’s get this bottle open,” Rachel replied, waving the bottle around.

  “But you never know. I might get sacked before that.”

  “You’re not going to get sacked, Annabel.” Rachel held the bottle aloft. “You know, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “No, I think we need to chill out.” It would be a miracle if she could relax. Annabel’s mind always turned over like a bullet train. “You get the corkscrew, and I will find us some glasses.” She pointed toward the kitchen drawer as she rattled around in the cupboard looking for two wine glasses.

  “You know, hun, Mr. Wild was totally wrong for threatening you. I mean, who the hell does he think he is?”

  “How on earth did you know about that?” she said, placing the glasses on the counter.

  “You know Mr. Wild, always one to talk about someone behind their back.”

  Seeing her friend shrug her shoulders didn’t make her feel any better. Is that how it was? The slime ball would say jump, and everyone would meekly reply how high. Annabel herself had been guilty of that, but not anymore. She wasn’t going to be a pushover.

  Rachel was always sympat
hetic toward her plight. She gripped the kitchen counter. It made her so angry that Mr. Wild wouldn’t listen to anyone. God, that man was a law unto himself.

  “Annabel, let’s go sit down so we can have a proper chat.”

  Annabel just nodded and wandered into the living room.

  Photographs of the Sussex Downs adorned the walls and several Regency pieces had pride of place on the furniture. Her prized possession was her tea caddy from 1815 that unusually still had its key. If that little box could only talk and tell her of all the ladies it had served.

  She watched Rachel looking round her eclectic living room. “You know, your obsession with Mr. Darcy is taking over.”

  Annabel put on her best Mrs. Bennet voice. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have a tea caddy.”

  She felt a little better with the teasing. A glass of wine and good company were just what the doctor ordered. As long as memories of biker Marcus Chapman didn’t interrupt. Closing her eyes briefly, she could see his face. His eyes, the way he had looked angrily at her. Yet there was something hidden in his jeweled eyes, a spark trying to break free of the chains he had created.

  “Earth to Annabel.”

  Annabel quickly opened her eyes; a flush of heat hit her face. “Sorry, honey. I was just thinking.”

  Holding the bottle over Annabel’s glass, Rach topped it up. “What about?”

  “Marcus.”

  “Okay, what has got you so wired?”

  “I should never have let him go. I should have held on,” Annabel replied sadly. “I mean, he has suffered a huge loss, one that we are confronted with every day, and what do I? I hightail it out of there.”

  Rachel stood up. “You got any ice cream?”

  “Yes, in the freezer. The bowls are in the cupboard above the microwave.”

  Her friend returned quickly with two bowls of the sweet, creamy dessert. “Here, it will make you feel better.”