by Jessica Hart
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘HELLO,’ said Lex, dropping the credit-card statement he’d been studying onto the worktop. There was no mistaking the coolness in Romy’s voice, and he eyed her warily. ‘How did you get on today?’
‘Well, I spent most of it accepting commiserations about having to spend three whole days with you,’ said Romy. She moved past him to start clearing up the debris from Freya’s supper. ‘Having seen the way you barely recognised me in that meeting, they all think you ignored me the whole time. If you want word to get round that we’re a couple, you’re going to have to try harder than that!’
Lex wrenched at his tie to loosen it. ‘I thought we’d decided not to make an announcement?’
‘Yes, because we want people to guess and start gossiping. They’re never going to guess if you look through me and have trouble remembering my name! You had the perfect opportunity to hint that you think I’m special, but no! “She was very helpful,”’ Romy mimicked his austere tones as she scraped the last few pieces of pasta from Freya’s bowl and let the bin close with a rattle. ‘Was that really the best you could do?’
‘What did you want me to do? Throw you across the table and ravish you in front of all your colleagues?’
‘A smile would have done it.’ Romy began closing packets and putting everything away. ‘That would have been so unusual they’d all have twigged straight away that there was something going on. As it was, none of them have a clue!’
‘Well, I’m sorry,’ said Lex stiffly, ‘but it felt awkward.’
‘You can say that again. I’m now the person who can spend three days with her boss without him realising that I even exist!’
Lex rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘I suppose I was thrown,’ he admitted. ‘I knew you’d be there, of course, but it was…odd…seeing you in a work context.’
A little mollified, Romy wrung out a cloth and wiped down the counter. ‘I’d say you’d have to try harder next time, but we’re not likely to have another meeting together, are we? We managed to work in the same office for six months without even seeing each other. I wonder if we should go in together for a few days? Someone is bound to notice that.’
Lex was usually at the office by seven o’clock, but the next morning found him walking into the gleaming reception area with Romy almost two hours later. Normally, he would stride straight to the lifts, with a brief nod of acknowledgement to whoever was on Reception. There weren’t many other people around at that time and that was the way Lex liked it.
Now he felt extraordinarily self-conscious. Although no one actually stopped and pointed, he could tell that his arrival with Romy-and a pushchair!-had indeed been noted and would provide food for much comment and speculation by the coffee machines that morning.
‘Well,’ said Romy awkwardly. ‘I’d…er…I’d better take Freya to the crèche.’ Burningly aware of the covert stares in her direction-why on earth had she suggested this?-she mustered a smile. ‘See you later.’
‘Do you think I should kiss you?’ Lex muttered and her heart promptly performed a back flip that threw out her breathing completely.
‘Kiss me?’
‘We’re making an exhibition of ourselves just by standing here,’ he said, still talking out of the corner of his mouth. ‘We might as well really give them all something to talk about. You were the one keen to get the message across that I know you exist. I mean, that’s what couples do, isn’t it?’ he added when she hesitated. ‘Kiss each other goodbye?’
Romy swallowed. ‘Usually just a peck on the lips.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of sweeping you into my arms!’
Her colour deepened at the sardonic note in his voice. ‘Of course not.’ She cleared her throat. ‘OK, then.’
Lex put a hand at the small of her back to draw her closer and she lifted her face. It was ridiculous. They had kissed before. This would just be a brief brush of the lips.
But still her pulse was booming so loudly that the hubbub in Reception faded to nothing in comparison, and when he pressed his mouth to hers her hand rose instinctively to clutch at the sleeve of his jacket. The polished marble floor still seemed to drop away beneath her feet, and she was still intensely aware of the firmness and warmth of his lips, of the steely strength of his arm.
And when Lex lifted his head, she still felt hot and dizzy.
Lex’s expression was impenetrable as he let her go. ‘See you tonight,’ he said coolly and walked off to the lifts, leaving Romy to make her way to the crèche with burning cheeks.
‘Did that kiss this morning do the trick?’ Lex asked that night as he pulled off his tie.
Romy had hoped to have the kitchen tidy before he got home, but she was still washing up. At least it gave her a good excuse to stand with her back to him so that, after a quick greeting over her shoulder, he couldn’t read her expression.
Ever since she had brought Freya home earlier, she had been practising how she would be when Lex appeared. Her lips had been tingling from that one brief kiss all day, and she was annoyed with herself for letting it affect her so much. Not that she had any intention of letting Lex guess that. She could do cool, too.
‘It certainly did,’ she said, proud of her casual tone. ‘It must have taken all of two seconds for the news that you had kissed me in Reception to reach Acquisitions. Then, of course, I had to spend all day fending off questions and explaining why I hadn’t told them about you.’
‘What did you say?’
‘The truth.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, not about the pretence.’ Romy rinsed Freya’s plate under the tap. ‘Just that we’d known each other a long time ago, and got together again on the trip to Scotland.’ She glanced at him over her shoulder again. ‘I don’t suppose anyone dared ask you about it?’
‘No, but Summer smiled at me in a very knowing way.’ Lex was regarding the chaos in the living area with dismay. ‘Thank God Phin is out of contact in Africa. Summer’s extraordinarily discreet, but she’s bound to tell him, and then it’ll only be a matter of time before my mother knows, and then your mother will know, and then there’ll be no end to it.’ He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.
‘We’ll tell them we wanted to keep it a secret,’ said Romy.
‘So secret that I kissed you in the middle of Reception in front of half the staff?’
‘Well, it’s done now.’ Romy dried her hands on a tea towel and turned. ‘We went through all of this,’ she reminded him.
‘I know.’
Restless, Lex hunched his shoulders. He had been like this all day, ever since that damned kiss. No one had said anything, but he could tell that speculation was rife and that behind the bland expressions they were all wondering what on earth had happened to turn their tough chief executive into the kind of sap who kissed his girlfriend in front of his entire staff.
Lex cringed inwardly at the memory. What had he been thinking? He had humiliated himself in public, and for what? The chance to kiss Romy one more time.
Pathetic.
Surely he had had enough rejection. He had suggested they make the most of the time they had together, and Romy had said no. How many times did she have to tell him that they had no future together? How many times did he have to tell himself?
And still he only had to touch her, and reason evaporated. Romy would never know what an effort it had been to keep that kiss brief. It had been all Lex could do not to pull her down onto the floor, and to hell with their audience.
That would have given them all something to talk about!
Lex sighed. Continuing the pretence had seemed to make sense, but if they weren’t careful it would spiral out of control. The very thought of losing control made him shudder, but what could he do? They couldn’t stop now.
And it would be worth it when Willie Grant finally signed that contract, Lex reminded himself as he picked his way across the floor.
Freya, newly bathed and with a quiff of dark hair stickin
g up, was sitting in the middle of a sea of toys. She offered him a toothless smile but didn’t clamour to be held the way she had the day before.
Well, good.
Just as well, thought Lex. He had no intention of picking her up.
So why did it feel like yet another rejection?
Splashing water on his face in his bathroom, Lex pulled himself together. The deal, that was all that mattered. Once it was done, Romy and Freya would leave, and his life could go back to normal. Until then, he would just have to put up with the humiliation and the mess and this feeling that everything was on the point of slipping out of control.
Romy was still clearing the kitchen when he went out. For the first time in his life, Lex had found it hard to concentrate at the office, and he had brought a report home to read, but the chances of concentration here were even slimmer until Freya had gone to bed, he realised.
His space invaded on every front, Lex took refuge at the piano. Alone in the evenings he would sit and play to unwind from work. Perhaps it would help now.
He played a few chords softly, letting his fingers warm up and go where they would, but he had barely started before there was a tugging at his trouser leg as Freya desperately hauled herself upright, loudly demanding to be lifted up to the source of the magical sounds.
‘Freya!’ Realising too late what was happening, Romy hurried over to take her away. ‘Leave Lex alone! I’m sorry,’ she added to Lex as Freya wailed in protest.
‘Oh, let her come up if she’s so insistent,’ he said brusquely. ‘Here-’ He held out his arms, and after a moment’s hesitation Romy put Freya in them.
Freya’s tears cleared magically as Lex settled her on his lap and let her lean forward to crash her little hands onto the piano keys.
Wincing at the noise, Romy perched on the arm of a sofa and watched as Lex let Freya bash away for a minute or so before he took her hands very gently and helped her to press the keys properly. Freya’s expression was transfigured as she heard the notes sing out from beneath her fingers, and Romy felt her throat tighten at his patience with her daughter.
Naturally, Freya’s attention span was limited, and she was soon back to ‘playing’ on her own. ‘I hope she’s not damaging your piano,’ Romy said, raising her voice over the crashing chords.
‘She’s all right,’ said Lex. ‘It’s a good thing to let her get used to just sitting at a piano if she likes it. Maybe she’s going to be musical.’
Romy opened her mouth to suggest that he could teach Freya to play properly when she was a bit older, but shut it again almost immediately. What was she thinking? By the time Freya was old enough to learn the piano, they would be long gone.
‘She wouldn’t get it from me,’ she said instead.
‘Perhaps her father is musical,’ Lex said evenly.
‘Perhaps. I must ask him.’ Romy shifted on the arm of the sofa. ‘If I remember, I’ll ask him this weekend.’
Lex looked up sharply. ‘This weekend?’
‘Yes, I…I emailed Michael this morning.’
She shouldn’t feel awkward about it, Romy knew. It was past time for her to let Michael know that he was a father. She had been putting it off because it felt as if she would somehow lose some of her independence if he decided he wanted to be part of Freya’s life.
Whichever way she looked at it, a relationship between Freya and her father would be a tie. Never again would Romy be able to move on the moment it suited her. There would always be someone else to take into account. Of course, she had to take Freya into account now, but it wasn’t the same.
What if Michael wanted to see Freya regularly? What if he wanted a say in where she lived or where she went to school? Romy knew that she ought to be glad if it turned out that he wanted to be involved in his daughter’s life, but she hated the idea of anyone limiting her freedom in any way. She knew it wasn’t logical or justifiable or fair, but the prospect of involving anyone else in the life she had built with Freya smacked too much of commitment for Romy.
And yet, today she had emailed him. It didn’t make Romy feel any better to realise that she had only done it because she had been so thrown by that kiss this morning.
It was stupid. It hadn’t meant anything, but she hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind all day. This was just what Romy had been afraid of. She didn’t want her pulse to jump every time Lex walked into a room. She didn’t want to be waiting for him, looking for him, unable to settle unless he was there. Next thing she knew, she would be hopelessly in love with him. She would be needing a man who had been very straight about not wanting anything to do with a baby.
Romy knew how that would end. So she had done what she always did when she felt herself getting too close to anyone. She made her plans to move on.
‘I asked if we could meet,’ she told Lex. ‘He replied straight away.’
Lex’s head was bent over Freya’s as he guided her hands on the piano keys. ‘Did you tell him about Freya?’
‘Not yet. I thought it would be better to tell him face to face. I’ve got a friend who lives in Taunton, which isn’t far from Michael. I’m going to stay with her tomorrow, and she’s going to look after Freya while I go and see him on Sunday morning. It might be too much of a shock if I turned up with her.’ Romy had a nasty feeling that she was babbling, and made herself stop.
‘He must be keen if he’s meeting you at such short notice,’ said Lex after a moment. ‘You’ve arranged it all very quickly.’
‘Well, I’ve waited long enough. I thought I might get too nervous if I had to think about what to say to him for too long.’ Romy fiddled with her bracelets. ‘Besides, I thought it might be nice for you to have the flat to yourself for the weekend.’
‘Thanks for the thought, but I won’t be here myself. I was going to say the same to you.’
‘Oh?’ Her fingers stilled. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To visit my parents, who I sincerely hope won’t have heard any rumours about our supposed relationship just yet.’ Lex’s smile gleamed briefly, but without much humour. ‘I’ll be able to tell my father about the deal with Willie Grant. It looks as if both of us will be passing on surprising news this weekend, doesn’t it?’
Lex drove back to London early on Sunday afternoon. A chance for some time to himself, he had decided. Some quiet. Some order. To catch up on some work. To walk across his living room without tripping over a squeaky toy and to admire his spectacular view without Freya squealing and shouting in the background.
But when he let himself into the flat, it didn’t feel quiet. It felt empty.
Romy and Freya had only been in residence two days. What was it going to be like when they left after a month?
By then he would be desperate for some peace, Lex told himself. He would be sick of tripping over the pushchair every time he came through the door. He could take those rounded rubber clips off the corners of the coffee table, and the plastic covers off his state-of-the art steel sockets. The waxed tablecloth with its pattern of brightly coloured dots would be gone, and he would be able to see his stylish dining table again.
There would be no little clothes drying on airers. No baby food in the fridge. No toys scattered on the floor or plastic ducks in the bath.
No Freya.
No Romy.
Lex could smell her perfume in the air. She was such a vivid presence that her absence was a shout in the silence. He could picture her exactly, barefoot, swinging Freya into the air, dark eyes aglow.
Was he going to have to endure another twelve years of memories? Twelve years of remembering the nape of her neck, the back of her knee, the scent of her hair. And this time it would be worse, Lex knew. Now he knew there was more to Romy than that wild, passionate girl she had been at eighteen. She was intelligent and capable and charming. She was warm. She was practical. She was tender.
And she was so damned stubborn.
Romy would never change her mind. If she said she would leave, she would leave. He
had better get used to it.
Alarmed at the maudlin train of his thoughts, Lex pulled himself together sharply. Why was he feeling so glum? He had what he wanted. What he needed. He had the Grant’s Supersaver deal in his pocket. He had control of Gibson & Grieve. Control of his life. No one asking anything of him that he couldn’t give.
What more did he want?
Refusing to let himself even think about an answer to that, Lex sat at the piano and started to play, but he wasn’t able to lose himself in the music the way he usually could, and when he heard the sound of the front door his hands paused above the keys and, in spite of everything he’d had to say to himself, his heart missed a beat as Romy appeared in the doorway.
Her dark hair was spangled with rain and she pushed it behind her ears with a stilted smile. ‘I thought I heard the piano.’
‘Where’s Freya?’ The constriction in Lex’s chest made it hard to speak.
‘Asleep in the hall.’ Romy glanced over her shoulder. ‘I’ve left her in the pushchair.’
There was a pause.
‘I wasn’t expecting you back yet,’ he said at last.
‘I didn’t think you’d be back until later.’
‘I decided to come home early.’
Romy moved into the room, hugging her arms together. ‘Wasn’t it a good weekend?’
‘It was fine.’ He shrugged. ‘The usual.’
‘How was your father?’
Lex made a face. ‘Not so good. He seemed…tired.’
‘Did you tell him about the deal?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing. He just looked away.’
Romy found herself clenching her fists on her sleeves. She knew Gerald Gibson was ill, but would it have been so hard for him to congratulate Lex, to somehow make it clear that he was proud of him?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
Lex pressed down a key with his forefinger, then another. ‘I thought I would feel good about telling him,’ he said abruptly. ‘I thought I’d have proved something, but I just looked at him and realised that he didn’t care. He’s dying.’