"I'm not sure whether to be pleased or worried," Emma said.
"About James? It had to happen. We're in totally different worlds." Leah tried to remain sensible.
"But you look as if your heart is broken," Emma stated.
"It'll mend," Leah shrugged.
They drank slowly. It was midweek and they all had jobs to go to in the morning.
"Have you heard anything from Lucy?" Leah asked. "I tried to send a text today and it wouldn't go through."
"I was going to mention that," Emma looked worried. "I've sent loads of emails but haven't heard anything for nearly a month, and she promised to keep in touch."
"Try a different approach," Simon suggested.
What?" they asked, both looking at him.
"Send a message to Sam, to see if everything's okay. Maybe she's just lost her phone or something?"
"We don't have any contact details for Sam," Emma said.
Leah shivered, feeling a small chill of anxiety creep up her spine. She remembered the fear that she’d felt alone with Sam outside the pub, and now Lucy was alone with him miles away from her friends. Was it possible he was deliberately keeping Lucy out of touch?
"That guy Willoughby might know," Simon suggested.
Leah thought that contact with Sam was the last thing in the world that James would want. Even so, it was true that he have a number for him ...
"I'll leave a message with his PA at Centrax,” Leah sighed. “Just say that no-one's heard from Lucy and ask if he has any contact info for Sam, and could he pass it on." She thought that was acceptable, to ask through Clare, and make sure to have no actual contact with James.
But when she did, the answer was brief.
"Mr Willoughby has no number for Sam and is not likely to contact him in the future," Clare replied coldly.
§
December came and the little house in Clapham grew especially cold. Leah went to bed with a jumper over her pyjamas and thick socks on her feet to keep warm. She spent more and more time at the flower shop. The Christmas decorations were selling well and the round of weekly deliveries became busier and busier. She talked to Charlie about getting some part-time help in the New Year, if business was still good then and they agreed they would see if it was possible.
Emma and Simon had decided to take some of their leave from work and go to Scotland.
"He wants me to meet the rest of his family," Emma told Leah.
"Do you think he's going to suggest getting married?’ Leah asked. “I mean, you've been together long enough ..."
"Maybe," Emma replied. "At least we know each other well."
They both thought again about Lucy, falling for Sam so quickly, rushing into marriage, and still out of contact.
"Will you be okay here on your own?" Emma asked.
"Of course,” Leah said. “It's not the first time."
§
Leah decided that she would go to visit her parents for Christmas. It would be better than being on her own and she missed the busy family atmosphere. Sometimes at night she took out James's robe and held it for comfort; it was the only thing she had to remember him by. And sometimes she put it on, wrapped it tightly around herself and slept in it.
She wished that things could have been different. If Lucy was still in London, if she herself had been more careful with James, less willing to jump into bed ... She was still grateful to him for the loan. It had transformed the shop and her own confidence in her work. But she had mixed business with pleasure.
She thought of the day punting in Oxford, their time at the Manor in Norfolk, and his anger that she’d not told him about Sam and Elizabeth.
She loved him, but her last act had been to knock his coffee over into his lap. He didn't trust her. How could she ever face him again?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
James
It took three days, but I found her in a shelter for the homeless in downtown Montreal. She was damaged, thin, nervous and I'm sure she was bruised, although she wouldn't let me see.
There had been a brief, scrambled call for help, to the office, a message saying she was in a hostel, then nothing. So I took the company plane, booked into a hotel in Montreal and hired a private investigator. I could give him very little information about Lucy apart from the fact that she was in a hostel, so we split the city between us and searched day and night.
When I finally found her, I brought her back to my house. She slept on the plane and later I carried her up to the guest room next to mine. She was so light, I could feel her bones, like a little sparrow.
She refused to see a doctor or let me contact her family or friends. She just wanted to stay with me, to feel safe. So I left the light on the landing and kept my bedroom door open. It’s clear she's had nightmares.
§
I changed my routine. Began working later and coming home earlier. I arranged for my housekeeper to be there when I was away. Lucy was with me for two weeks before she would come downstairs, then she would sit with me while I ate my evening meal, watching me. She didn't want to talk about Sam or what had happened. If I get my hands on him I'll kill him.
Today I went in late and Clare followed me into my office and closed the door. She reminded me of a meeting with some bankers later in the morning and lunch with a client. Then, to my surprise, she walked over to a closet in my office where I keep a spare overcoat in case it gets cold, and a scarf.
She opened the door and there was a row of new shirts and ties, half a dozen of my hand tailored suits in dry cleaning bags. She said she had purchased the shirts and ties through the company account, and had my driver collect the suits. They were to cover the days when I appeared at the office looking crumpled. Crumpled! She actually used the word.
She said it was important that as head of the company I should be properly dressed. Then she coolly turned and went back to her own office, leaving me speechless.
I went into my private en-suite and looked into the mirror. She was right. I looked wrecked, untidy and my hair was too long. I’d dashed from the house that morning, hardly shaved and grabbed anything to wear.
I put things right, showered again, shaved, changed into the fresh clothes and went to the meeting and lunch.
Back at the office in the afternoon, I was unsettled and restless. I walked into Clare's office, closed the door and sat down opposite her.
I intended to point out where her responsibilities as my PA began and ended –
one of my little lectures. But I looked at her, so mature, so composed, and instead I found myself telling her all about Lucy, Sam, Elizabeth and an edited version of my affair with Leah. She said nothing for a while, assessing me.
Eventually, she spoke.
"Do you really want my advice, Mr Willoughby?" she asked. "After all, you can be a little intimidating."
I nodded.
"Well, as I see it, your life has spiralled out of control. Your home life is disorganised. You need firstly to solve the problem of Lucy. If she won't see a doctor or her family, then I suggest you get Emma, her oldest friend. Lucy needs to talk to another woman."
She hesitated for a moment, and I signalled that she could go on.
"I think that you can eventually put both Elizabeth and Sam out of your life. Leah is your own, separate problem."
For once, I was at a loss for words.
She said that if I gave her the address of the Clapham house and the university where Emma worked, she could take my driver and track her down, bring her to Belsize Park. Meanwhile, I should go home and wait, be there to reassure Lucy in case she heard anyone arrive. I agreed.
§
It seems an age until I hear the Mercedes pull up outside and I head outside to meet them. Clare gets out of the car, and to my annoyance, she has Leah with her. Before I can say anything, Clare tells me that Emma was away. I thank her and ask Harry to drive her home. It’s a bit of a bombshell to see Leah.
But I know I must keep things under control.
/> We both stand in my large entrance hall, several metres apart.
Leah’s obviously uneasy. She just doesn't know how to be around me, so I tell her to go to Lucy, in the guest room next to mine and that I'll wait downstairs.
I go into the sitting room, open my laptop, put on some music and pour myself a large whisky. I wait. It's around two hours later when Leah finally comes back into the room. She looks a little shaky and I get up and pour her a shot in a crystal tumbler.
"Lucy's asleep," she says. "She's told me everything. Sam's a total bastard."
She pauses for a moment, shakes her head, before continuing.
"He was cruel, he beat her up, pushed her to work all hours, cleaning offices, he took her credit card and phone. He said it was all a mistake, and that he only ever wanted Elizabeth."
She stops and looks at me cautiously, but I wave my glass at her, encouraging her to continue.
"He went to New York to see Elizabeth, and that’s when Lucy ran away. She kept changing hostels because she was afraid he would come back for her. She stole a mobile phone, rang you and then threw the phone away."
We sit in silence for a bit, both pretty exhausted. I notice that her hair has grown and she has a few freckles on her nose. When did they appear? I ask her to stay the night, as company for Lucy and she agrees without any argument.
I remember that Emma is away and say that it would be better for Leah to stay with me until Emma and Simon come back. There's a chance that Sam might come to London looking for Lucy; he could still be dangerous.
"I'd like to have you both safe under my roof," I say. When I look at Leah she's smiling.
"What?"
"Such a funny expression: under your roof. A bit pompous, but you mean well. Lucy already thinks you're her knight in shining armour.”
"Lucy doesn't have very good taste in men," I state.
"You've been very kind to her," Leah says quietly.
"Clare called me intimidating today," I offer. It it had been bugging me, I had to tell someone.
Leah raises her eyebrows and her smile grows. Her eyes actually twinkle.
"Intimidating. Really? And she still has her job?"
"Yes, of course. I'm not so bad am I?"
I feel a little fuzzy. I've had more whisky than I should, and the unexpected day is somehow becoming more and more confusing.
"James, you're edgy, and you can be arrogant, but I think there's a good heart in there. You've just had everything too young, too much money, too much power, too much responsibility."
Leah stands up, and moves away from me as she makes this statement. I realise that we've actually managed to almost have a proper conversation, for once, and she's been more confident with me, although she's edging towards the door.
I look at her. She's so self-conscious about her body, and she still has terrible taste in clothes. She's difficult, her behaviour is unpredictable, but ...
I stand, reach out and put my hand behind her head, tangling my fingers in her hair and gently pull her towards me. I kiss her, just as I did that first time in the punt, but this time it's slow, too, careful and searching, and she responds.
I feel her melting into me and I put my arms around her, her soft curves against me. We feel right together.
This girl has disturbed and distracted me since that first time I saw her, drunk on my bed. My organised life has imploded. Before that I had everything running smoothly under my control – the company, the estate in Norfolk, my elegant house in London and my relationship with Elizabeth.
Now, I've invested in a flower shop of all things, finished a casual, easy relationship, rescued her friend, neglected work and even confided in my PA, which was totally unprofessional.
But I just don't think I can't live without her any longer.
"Stay with me tonight," I say. "Move in, live with me, marry me, just don't leave. See how we get on."
I hold her tight and she murmurs something against my chest.
I think it's a yes ...
EPILOGUE
Two years later ...
James let himself into the house. It had been a good day, another merger completed, a hard won, successful deal, and he was even home just after six. He could hear noise from the kitchen, and he put down his laptop case and went in.
It was the usual disorganised scene. Leah was at the kitchen table, which seemed to be covered in flour and every possible kitchen appliance.
And Lucy, who was supposed to be some sort of au-pair, he wasn't quite sure how it worked, lay on the sofa, reading a magazine, as beautiful as ever. She smiled and waved at him. She still lived with them.
"We've made you a cake," Leah explained and he looked at the lop-sided effort on the table. It was a bit burnt around the edges and covered in a startlingly blue icing.
"It's not my birthday," he commented dryly.
"No," Lucy called from across the room, "we made it because we wanted to surprise you."
James fleetingly thought that it would be an even greater surprise if someone had actually prepared a meal.
He went and picked up the toddler from the high chair, swinging him round. His son; his fantastic, unexpected bonus in life.
"I was just going to feed him," Leah said.
"I'll do it," James said, settling little Jake on his lap and sliding the bowl and spoon towards him.
"He'll get it all over you," Leah observed, as she began to clear the debris from the table.
"It doesn't matter," James smiled back.
He knew that in the morning, in the calm, serene executive office, Clare would have organised his wardrobe for the day.
Just then, the new puppy dashed across the room and began to chew at the bottom of his expensive trousers. He leaned down and stroked it.
Later he would put on some casual gear and take it for a short walk.
Then, later still, climb into the huge bed and hold Leah. In the darkness, it was still there, that same instant, overwhelming response, that need for each other at the end of the day.
Whenever he had to travel, he would take care to be quiet if he returned in the early hours. Tired, jet lagged he would crawl into bed and she would turn and reach for him. She hardly slept when he was away.
They'd had their times of adjustment and challenges, of course. He'd insisted she cut her work hours when she was pregnant, and she wanted him to delegate more, travel less. He bought her expensive jewels and then had to remind her to wear them. She invited her whole family to stay without telling him and he'd returned from America to find the house full, every guest room noisily occupied. She'd told him it was only for a week and he'd said a little notice would be appreciated in future.
And one night, soon after Jake was born, he'd found her in the bedroom trying on some jeans. She tugged at the zip, which wouldn't close, took them off and threw them on the floor.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I can't get into them. I'll have to diet," she replied.
James had felt his temper rising.
"You've only had a baby a few weeks ago. You're not really going to be one of those airheads who tries to lose weight straight away, are you?"
He'd picked up the jeans, opened the wardrobe and taken every pair from the hangers, gone downstairs and put them in the rubbish bin.
Then he went back and told Leah that if she got them out again he would make a bonfire in the garden and burn them. She'd stormed from the room and gone to sleep in one of the guest rooms.
James had lain awake afterwards. He couldn't get to sleep, his mind was racing. In the early hours of the morning he went to find her. She was lying on her back, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He picked her up and carried her back to their bed.
"Don't ever do that," he said. "I need you here."
They had held each other, shaken.
James had thought back to that scene he’d witnessed between Jake and Sofia in Crete; he still didn't completely understand marriage.
"My jeans,"
she'd whispered later, hot, entangled, her head against his chest.
"Buy some new ones," he'd said.
§
Just after Jake's first birthday, Leah had surprised him, holding out a fat envelope, tied up with a bow of ribbon. He'd opened it and found it stuffed with twenty pound notes.
"What's this?" he was puzzled.
"The first re-payment of the loan!"
Leah smiled at his amazement.
"You don't need to pay it back!"
"Oh yes I do, James, this is just the first instalment." She'd looked into his eyes, waiting for his response, ready to challenge him.
"Okay,” he’d replied, “but perhaps do it through the bank next time. Arrange it with Clare."
He'd put the packet into his jacket pocket.
"Aren't you going to check it?" she'd asked. "First rule of business, James. Read the small print, check all receipts ..." she teased.
"Are you trying to provoke me?" he’d replied, his voice husky.
"Yep."
He'd slowly taken off his jacket and hung it over a kitchen chair, unbuttoned his shirt and moved towards her. Lucy was out with Jake and the housekeeper had finished for the day. He'd glanced around slowly: against the wall? On the sofa? Anywhere would do. He gripped her shoulders and pushed her slowly backwards.
"I'll just collect the interest then," he'd murmured into her ear ...
§
"Any chance of something to eat soon?" he asked. He found he'd been drifting, holding little Jake and thinking of how, at first, they'd had to find their way around each other.
"Another hour, can you wait?" Leah said, leaning over and kissing the top of his head.
Just then, Lucy rose from the sofa, poured him a glass of wine, and hugged him in passing. Too.
James considered his situation. He was among the wealthy men in London, head of a successful multi-national company which ran like clockwork. At home he was surrounded by carefree, casual women. Leah worked erratic hours at the Flower Garden, Lucy helped out with Jake and Mrs Andrews, his efficient housekeeper, had given up and decided she would only work part-time.
Obsessed (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) Page 14