by Di Jones
Guy grasped her elbow to steady her. “You okay?”
A surge of electricity flowed through her and every nerve in her body tingled. “Thanks,” she said, “I’m alright now.” She wanted to move away from him, but her feet were anchored to the ground.
He cleared his throat again. “I wanted to let you know I’m sorry about the way everything’s worked out.”
“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything,” she said, digging her fingernails into her palms and trying to still the wobble in her voice. She raised her face to his. Was it her imagination or was the soft haze in his eyes longing? The pressure on her arm increased, and he pulled her towards him. She knew she should pull away, but his proximity was magnetic, and she wanted to move even closer, to bury her face in his neck, to drink in the tanginess of his aftershave, to brush her lips against his. A frisson moved through her body and she lifted her mouth towards his and closed her eyes, feeling his breath mingling with hers.
“Holly, you still here?” asked Ann from the doorway. They pulled apart like guilty teenagers and she dropped back to the floor, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Guy,” said Ann in a tone of surprise, “you’re here too.”
He shifted from foot to foot. “Ah, yes, we were discussing a report,” he said, waving to the papers Holly was now sweeping into a pile.
“Perhaps I’ll leave you to it.”
“No it’s okay, Ann, I was just leaving.” He shuffled his feet again. “By the way,” he said to Holly, “Brittany told me you’re engaged. Congratulations, I hope you’ll be very happy.”
She stared at the door after he’d left, her mind whirring with conflicting emotions. She wanted to call him back, wanted to tell him Brittany shouldn’t have shared her ‘news’ with anyone, wanted to tell him she wasn’t engaged, and wanted to rekindle the closeness they’d shared at the party. She traced her lower lip with her index finger, wondering if he’d been about to kiss her. She was sure he was, but how could he if he thought she was engaged to marry someone else? Sadness and anger flooded her in equal measures, anger at Brittany for telling him she was engaged, and anger at Guy for trying to take advantage of her for the second time.
“Holly, what’s wrong?”
She’d forgotten Ann was still there. “Ann, I’ve made such a mess of things.”
“I heard the news of your engagement, too. We’re all pleased for you.” Ann sank down to join her on the floor. “But you’re not happy, are you?” The older woman listened as Holly confided in her, nodding every now and again. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Yes, God knows I need it.”
“Set the record straight with everyone concerned and do it now. Go and speak to Guy first. I’m sure he’ll want to hear everything you have to say.”
She gave Ann a quick hug, and went in search of Guy. His office door was closed, and as she rapped quietly, Brittany walked past.
“Everything alright? You look upset,” said Brittany, her expression ninety percent loathing mixed with a dash of gratification and a spoonful of curiosity. “What are you doing outside Guy’s office?”
“I need to talk to him about something important.”
“He’s gone for the rest of the day. Why don’t you come along to my office and tell me what’s going on?”
She ignored the warning bell jangling in her subconscious. Ann said to set the record straight with everyone, and everyone included Brittany. It wouldn’t do any harm to talk to her. After all, things couldn’t get any worse.
“The thing is, Brittany,” she said when they were seated, “I lied to you. I lied about getting married.”
“Lying’s becoming a bit of a habit with you,” said Brittany, regarding her with contempt.
“It wasn’t all a lie.”
“So you’re sort of getting married? That’s like sort of being pregnant.”
“Charlie did ask me to marry him but I said no.”
Brittany’s eyes were as hard as a greenstone club. “What I’d like to know is why you imagined this little confession would be of any interest to Guy.”
“Um, I thought,” she began but the circuit between her brain and mouth became disconnected. Why did she think it would be of interest to Guy? The circuit failed completely and her mind went blank.
“I don’t care a nickel about your personal situation. It’s neither here nor there whether you’re getting married or not.” Brittany’s colour was rising but her lips were white. “And you’re under some sort of strange illusion if you think Guy’s interested. He couldn’t care less either.”
“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think,” she argued.
“I know him a lot better than you do,” Brittany replied.
“Guy can be reserved, but he’s a caring person.”
“Yes, he is a caring person, but he doesn’t care for you.”
“That’s a lie,” she said hotly.
“As far as he’s concerned you’re completely expendable,” said Brittany in a patronising manner.
She gripped the arms of her seat, scared if she let go she’d stand up, lunge at Brittany and throttle her. “Don’t blame him for your decision to fire me. We both know you make the staffing decisions.”
“You’re right. Staffing is my responsibility.” Brittany’s eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled. “But what you don’t know is I recommended keeping you.”
“What? I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care whether or not you believe me. But let me make this clear, it was Guy who insisted you had to go. I tried to intervene but he wouldn’t risk the reputation of the Consulate.”
“What?” Black spots danced in front of her eyes and she grasped the side of the desk to stop herself from pitching forwards. Surely this wasn’t true? No. Brittany was lying. Or was she? Guy hadn’t come to her defence throughout any of this.
“I didn’t know any of this.” Slowly she rose from her seat, her knees wobbling. She couldn’t continue this conversation, couldn’t let Brittany see her break down. “Thanks. It’s not what I wanted to hear, but you’ve saved me from making a giant fool of myself.”
She stumbled back to her office, closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, a bitter taste on her tongue. With difficulty she moved to her desk and slid into her chair, slumping forwards and cradling her head in the crook of her elbow. How could Guy have done this to her? She’d been such a fool, persisting in a stupid fantasy he cared for her and didn’t want her to leave. The reality was, he didn’t care any more than Tom had.
She considered her predicament carefully. She’d made a complete and utter ninny of herself over a man who wasn’t interested in her, and she’d rejected Charlie, the only one willing to make the commitment no one else would. She’d never stopped to consider, until this moment, how much she’d hurt him. He must be feeling lousy, as lousy as she was feeling over Guy.
And now she had nothing and no one, was returning to a place which used to be home, going back to people who used to be friends. Now she’d be an outsider. With blinding clarity everything became as clear as the Santa Monica skies on a sunny day. LA was where she wanted to stay.
It was too late for that now, but she could do one last thing to salvage her dented self-esteem. First thing in the morning she’d confront Guy Bloody Cutler and tell him exactly what she thought of him. It was time he knew what his shortcomings were, and by God she wouldn’t candy-coat them.
FORTY-THREE
Holly
The next morning Holly dressed with care, selecting a pale blue suit, white tee, and killer heels to give her extra height and an emotional advantage otherwise lacking. She stared in the mirror, tracing her pale skin and dark rimmed eyes with cold fingers. A dash of lipstick and spritz of perfume offered little improvement.
She was the first to arrive at work, and went to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. She read the headlines of the previous day’s paper while it brewed, then took the steaming mug back
to her office and sat at her desk sipping it, keeping vigil for Guy to arrive.
“I’d like to have a word with you,” she said, poking her head into his office half an hour later.
“Holly, you startled me. Please sit down.”
He gestured to a chair but she remained standing, hands on her hips, feet square on the floor, to stop her body from shaking. She hoped her voice would sound strong and assertive, but when she spoke it came out in a squeak. “You’ve never told me why you think I lied about the car crash. At the very least, you owe me an explanation of why you think I’d do that.”
He drew a hand through his hair and for the first time she noticed how pallid he looked. “Calm down. Why don’t you have a seat?”
“Calm down?”
“Yes, you’re upset and angry, and there’s no need to be. I’m concerned about you. I don’t like to see you like this.”
“You’ve got no right to be concerned about me.” Her voice lost its squeak and the words sounded loud and strident in the quiet office. “You’re smug and arrogant and I don’t want you to be worried about me.” She took a deep breath, searching her memory for the opening lines of her prepared speech.
“First,” he said, “I think–”
“I don’t give a damn what you think. You’re a self-righteous, arrogant bastard who’s used to getting his own way.” They weren’t exactly the words she’d prepared, but they sounded good anyway.
“Holly, please. Let me say something.”
“And I don’t appreciate the way you’re smirking at me.”
“I’m not smirking,” he said. “I’m smiling because–”
“I don’t give a hoot why you’re smiling. You’re a pompous twat and you don’t have the intelligence to know when you should be giving someone a chance.”
He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. When he opened them he wore a pained expression. “I’m a little more intelligent than you’re giving me credit for.”
“You should act like it then. You wouldn’t know the truth if you fell over it. You’re an idiot, you’re totally insufferable, and I can’t believe I cared for you.”
“Did you?” he asked in a tone of surprise, his face lighting up. Just as quickly his eyes clouded and his voice hardened. “Do you make a habit of caring for men when you’re engaged to be married? Like keeping your options open, do you?”
“How dare you, you stupid man? My personal life’s none of your business,” she snapped.
“No, it’s not,” said Guy, “but before you continue with your character assassination of me, perhaps you’d like to take a look at this.” He snapped opened his briefcase, pulled out a piece of paper and pushed it over the desk towards her.
She took the smooth sheet of paper and skim read it. She read it again, slowly this time, then looked at him for confirmation. His expression was inscrutable, so still not sure, she moved to the chair he’d offered earlier, sank into it and read the paper a third time.
“This clears me,” she said.
“Yes.”
“As a result of information you presented to the police.”
“That’s right,” he said.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not quite the villain you believe me to be,” he said, moving over to sit in the chair next to her. “Brittany mentioned a detail of the incident I hadn’t heard before, about police tracker dogs, and I decided to follow it up with a friend of mine who works in the LAPD.”
“LAPD?”
“Los Angeles Police Department. My friend investigated and as a result located the team who assisted you the day of the accident.”
All the tension flowed out of her body, and she sagged with relief. “They confirmed my story,” she said, her voice rising in pitch.
“Yes they did, which is why I planned to see you later this morning. I wanted to apologise, and give you this.” He handed her an envelope bearing the official Consular seal. “It’s a formal apology and a reinstatement of your job.”
She took the envelope with shaking hands and pulled out the sheet of thick bond paper inside it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me you accept my apology.”
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but it’s late coming. I’m leaving at the end of the week.”
“I’m sorry it’s so late, Holly, but at least you can come back to work on Monday.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” she asked. “I’m leaving at the end of the week. I’ll be back in London on Monday.”
“London?” he asked with a puzzled frown. “Are you having a short holiday before your wedding?”
“Oh, my wedding. No, I’m returning to England permanently.”
“Permanently? I don’t understand.”
“I’m not getting married.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “What happened?”
“Er, nothing happened. I wasn’t getting married in the first place. Charlie proposed, but I said no.”
“You said no?”
“I had to. Say no I mean,” she said, twisting her hands and looking into her lap. “The thing is, I don’t love him, except as a friend.”
“You love him as a friend,” he said. “Quite right then, you couldn’t possibly marry him. But you’re leaving LA?”
“Yes, I’m flying out on Sunday.”
“Won’t you reconsider? There’s no need for you to go now.”
“I appreciate that, but my ticket’s booked and paid.”
“Why not take a short holiday back to London then? The job will keep for a week or two.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll think about it and come back to you with a decision by tomorrow. Either way, now I can go home with my head held high.”
FORTY-FOUR
Guy
The muscles in the back of Guy’s neck were as hard as brass knuckles, and a white hot heat radiated from his chest. He took a deep breath to steady his voice before answering Ann. “I wonder how long this has been going on.”
“It’s hard to say, but from the number of phone calls I’ve had recently I’d say things have been slipping for some time.” She pulled at her upper lip, and he knew she was uncomfortable sharing this news with him, but professionalism dictated she couldn’t cover for Brittany and keep him in the dark.
“Never would’ve dreamed she’d let us down like this, but to be honest I had a strange comment from a client several weeks back. I didn’t think too much about it at the time.”
“Maybe something’s been going on in her personal life,” said Ann.
He wouldn’t be the one to tell Ann, or anyone else for that matter, that Brittany was having an affair with a married man, and his own brother-in-law to boot. It would be disloyal to Olivia and he wouldn’t add to her embarrassment by sharing the sordid story. “Don’t know, Ann, but one thing’s for sure. Not only has her work been slipping, but it looks like she’s deliberately tried to damage Holly’s credibility. We can’t tolerate this sort of behaviour.”
“No, we can’t,” said Ann, a frown creasing the normally smooth skin on her forehead. “You’ll have a word with her?”
“Yes, I’ve got an appointment to see her shortly.” He leaned back in his chair, smoothed his hair back and sighed loudly. “I need to get to the bottom of this and find out whether she withheld information about the car accident deliberately.”
“Do you suspect it was deliberate?”
“You tell me. I like to think not, but after the things you’ve told me, I’d say we’re seeing a pattern of behaviour directed at Holly.”
“I agree,” said Ann. “It’s obvious she’s been trying to undermine her. Jealousy’s a horrible thing.”
“Jealousy?” asked Guy.
“Don’t be obtuse. You must know Brittany’s interested in you.”
“I’ve never done anything to encourage her.”
“I know you haven’t, but Brittany’s not that easily deterred. To be honest, we’ve all been s
orry for you. She’s unscrupulous when it comes to getting what she wants, and you’ve been the last person to see it.”
“Leave this with me,” he said, looking embarrassed. “One more thing before you go; I’ve asked Holly to stay on.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” replied Ann. “We’ve all been hard on her, and it would be nice to show her we’re sorry.”
“She’ll let us know what she’s decided tomorrow, but I think she’ll stay.” A broad grin broke out on his face but he didn’t care less if Ann knew how much Holly meant to him.
“Sit down, Brittany.” He gestured to the sofas in the corner of the office, then sat opposite her.
Her agitation was clear, and as he tried to continue, she cut him short. “Guy, I want to explain. I didn’t know Warren was married, I swear I didn’t.” Her voice was high-pitched and whiny, her features pinched. Dark circles shadowed her puffy eyes, and she gnawed her mouth, scraping off her lipstick with her teeth. Her legs were crossed and her foot jiggled in his field of vision.
He regarded her coldly, amazed she’d try to lie. He should have the dignity to let it pass, but devotion to Olivia prompted his challenge. “How could you not have known he was married?” he asked, firing the question at her in a clipped tone. “Olivia told me about the incident in the mall some months back.”
Her gaze drifted from his. “Oh, you know about that.”
“Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to speak to you about. As reprehensible as I find this situation, your personal life’s none of my concern. I want to talk to you about Holly.”
“I’ve got that under control,” she said, slumping into her seat and flashing lipstick smeared teeth at him. “She’s leaving this weekend, and I’ve started recruiting for her replacement. I’m interviewing four candidates next week.”
“Cancel the appointments.”
“You want me to defer them?”
“I said cancel them,” he said.