‘Victoria.’ A voice behind her in the shadows.
‘Ollie, please. I need a minute.’ She fought the tears. Elation from her show and sadness at what she was about to do made her chest constrict tight.
‘Vicki!’ Louder now.
It wasn’t Ollie. He’d never speak to her in that aggressive tone. She whirled round to find herself face to face with Andrew. Typical that he was the Russell who had followed her out and the last thing she needed was to see him gloating.
His eyes were intense. ‘Running away?’
‘No. I just needed to…’ Breathe. She didn’t need to explain. She clasped her hands together, felt the accusing point of the engagement ring diamond stab her thumb. ‘What do you want, Andrew?’
‘I want you to leave the Russells alone. Stop this game you’re playing and step out of our lives.’
Even though he was demanding exactly what she was planning his words jabbed her like a knife point. ‘And what if I don’t? What if I love Oliver?’
‘I’ll tell them the truth.’ He had Russell eyes but not the warmth and depth of his uncle’s or cousin’s.
Her heart kicked against her ribs. ‘The truth about what?’
‘You’re stringing them along with your promises of a future, when we both know they’ll never have grandchildren from you.’ He leaned closer and she could smell alcohol on his breath. ‘The Russell line will stop with Oliver and you know he wants more than that. He wants kids, Vicki. His parents are set on grandchildren to dote on. You need to be honest about that so they can, how shall I put it? Re-evaluate their choices. Maybe reconsider that ring.’
He looked lasciviously at her hand and she knew then that it must be worth a lot more than she’d thought.
So, he wanted to break this up so he could give the damned ring to his future wife? And provide beautiful Russell offspring which would slide him into the favourite stakes? But how did he know this private information about her? Who? Why?
Then it hit her like a physical blow in her scarred belly. ‘Peter told you?’
‘Just filled me in, you know. A friendly chat.’
She closed her eyes against the hot swell of tears. Blinked them back, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d ruffled her. ‘I’m going to finish it anyway. Tonight. Then they’ll never know. Please don’t hurt them.’
His piggy eyes narrowed. ‘You have until tomorrow.’
Chapter Seventeen
SHE HADN’T COME BACK. She’d been gone for hours while he held the fort at the store doing interviews, herding the students, overseeing the rest of the festivities. Dealing with his parents’ questions.
Meanwhile, she’d just disappeared.
And now he was caught up in more media nonsense. Someone from #Garb magazine had their mobile phone almost stuck up his nose as she threw questions at him about Victoria. And all he could think of was the way she’d looked so happy when the models were walking in her clothes. How she’d felt in his arms. The smile on the helicopter flight. The thick lightness in his chest when he thought about her at all – about all the good she’d done and the way she made him want to do good, do better too. And the way she’d looked so devastated after their kiss. Eventually, he held up his hands.
‘Thank you, yes, I’ll get her to contact you. Or you could message her though her website, victoriascottdesigns. I have to go.’ Frustrated and – OK, yes, he admitted it – spooked by her running off, he pushed his way through the throng and back into the changing area.
There was no one there. It was late. Everyone had left and taken their things with them. Everyone, except Victoria.
Her dresses hung, slightly dishevelled, on a rack. The hangers had been stuffed in, leaving the clothes dangling at odd angles, people shoving them on in a hurry. He straightened them, mainly as something to do while he worked out his next step.
She’d run away from him.
He pulled out the wedding dress that had caused such a furore of response and his heart damned near cracked. As the model had walked down the catwalk he’d imagined Victoria wearing it. Walking towards him. In a church or something.
Damn. He tugged at his tie, loosening it, hoping to breathe better. But he didn’t… couldn’t, because the choked-up feeling was inside him. He was in too deep and she was sending him a huge message by leaving him on the runway like that.
But that kiss. It had been as if they’d been somewhere private. He had to find her but what the hell he was going to say to her he didn’t know.
Outside, a cruel wind whipped the snow around his feet as he crunched towards her flat. Being near closing time now, the wine bar customers were starting to leave and every time they opened the door a chime of cheesy Christmas music filled the air. He could hear familiar squeals coming from up the road where Jasmine and the girls were having a snowball fight with Nisha’s brothers. He peered over, hoping to see his Victoria amongst them. But no.
He guessed she wouldn’t be in the bar but popped his head in anyway. The only people left were a drunk Father Christmas – sans long white beard – and an elf, fast asleep in the corner.
One of the bar staff – Sara with the cropped hair – raised her eyebrows when she saw him and then pointed her forefinger upwards. She’s upstairs.
He pressed the buzzer to her flat and waited.
And waited. And pressed the buzzer again.
Then he scooped up snow, made a snowball and threw it up at her window. ‘Victoria!’
And he waited. Concern prickled down his spine. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t do this. Although, she’d told him how she’d hidden way after the accident, so maybe retreating into herself when she was upset was her go-to.
That realization made everything suddenly seem worse. He threw another snowball and watched it crash against her studio window and disintegrate into a flurry of sleet raining down on his handmade Italian shoes, soaking them.
Just perfect.
Then suddenly there she was, standing in her doorway, haloed by the light behind her. Her eyes were red, and her face wet from tears. She was wearing pink pyjamas with reindeer on them. Despite the success of her show she didn’t smile.
Heart lurching, he took a step forward and reached out to touch her cheek. ‘What the hell, V? Are you OK?’
She batted his hand away. ‘Look, Ollie—’
‘You literally ran out on me. Left me hanging on that stage. What’s the matter?’
She looked at her feet, at a spot over his shoulder. Anywhere but him. Her bottom lip wobbled. She pressed her lips together. Then said, ‘Oh, Ollie. It’s the first of December. We had a deal, right?’
‘Ah.’ He smiled and relief flooded through him. She actually thought it was over? His stomach started to unclench. That was all? She thought they had to call it a day, just because they’d said it would be so? An easy fix. ‘So, we can make a new one.’
‘No.’ She looked as if her heart was about to break into a thousand pieces. ‘I can’t lie to them anymore. And all the press there, the photographs… there’ll be a buzz about us in the media and people will be asking about me and about my parents, my friends.’ Her hand went to her head. ‘I didn’t think this through at all.’
‘Maybe, no one will report it.’ Although chances of that happening were virtually nil. He’d made his PR team send out hundreds of press releases about the opening.
She showed him her phone. Photos of their clinch were already uploaded on Buzzfeed, the Daily Mail, gossip blogs, with cheesy soundbites that made him shudder:
Great Scott!
Heir to the Russell fortune is be-scott-ed with upcoming fashion designer.
Who is the woman who stole Russell heir’s heart?
And more…
Eric Russell’s mystery illness.
Russell & Co top boss struck down.
Eric Russell weak and frail…
God. Oliver pressed his fist to his forehead. This was a nightmare. He hadn’t
even thought about the way the press would intrude on his father too. His dad would be furious he’d been portrayed as weak.
Victoria’s eyes glittered with hurt and anger. ‘I mean, really? It’s already happening. I don’t want people digging around in my past. Lily’s already upset about it. Although, I think that’s more about me than this.’ She brandished the phone at him again like a weapon she wanted to hurt him with.
He looked past her, up the stairs to her apartment. ‘Lily’s here?’
‘No.’ Victoria shook her head. ‘She had to go back to Hawke’s Cove straight after my show.’
Good. They’d have a chance to calm down in private then. He needed to explain about separating their private lives from their public ones. Her wobble was nothing to do with the way they felt about each other and everything about handling the stress of being in the spotlight. ‘Can I come in?’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘V. Come on.’ He put his palm on the doorframe to stop her closing the door in his face. ‘It’s a blip. People will have forgotten about it by tomorrow. We can get through this.’
‘You can. You live your life out there all the time. I don’t and I don’t want to. I don’t want people to know what I’m doing or what’s happened to me in the past.’
‘I’ll fix it. I’ll send out press releases tomorrow. I’ll tell them—’
‘What exactly? That I’m your fiancée? Because you know as well as I do that the backstory to that kiss isn’t real. Our relationship isn’t real, but now everyone – the whole damned world – thinks it is.’ She wrapped her arms across her body. ‘This is not something that even the great Oliver Russell can fix.’
‘It is real. It can be real, V.’ He touched a strand of her hair, let it run through his fingers, relishing the silk and the fresh scent. Not wanting to let her go. ‘Let me try.’
‘It’s over, Ollie. All this pretence. Us. It’s over.’ She took a step back. Two. Until she’d retreated to the stairs leading up to her flat and sat. Her hand went out in front of her signalling him to keep his distance but every part of her body was keening towards him. If she was that desperate to get rid of him, she’d have shoved him and slammed the door already. Once again, she was saying one thing and her body was indicating something else. Even the sob in her throat gave her away.
‘It’s not pretence and you know it.’ He went to her, knelt in front of her. ‘The kisses, everything… Sure, it started out as some stupid game, I know. But those kisses were real, Victoria. The way we connect is real. Tell me. Tell me it’s not real and I’ll leave.’
He held his breath as she looked at him.
‘It’s real.’ She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘But there are too many reasons why not, Ollie. We live in different worlds and have very different futures. Very different.’ She sounded a little more determined now, as if she was talking herself into this. ‘I’m sorry. Here’s your ring.’
‘No.’ He wanted to rage at her. To tell her to stick her stupid decisions and to stay with him but that was the kind of thing his emotionally under-developed cousin would say. He struggled to stay calm because he got the feeling that she was on an edge here. But hell. He had emotion aplenty. ‘Keep it.’
She squeezed Nana Norma’s ring from her finger and held it out to him. A single tear edged over her lid and slid down her cheek. Her hand shook. ‘Take it. Please.’
She actually meant it. She was really doing this. A heavy weight settled in his chest and spread through his body making everything hurt. The ring was the icing to this whole damned conversation. If she kept it they were still connected, right?
‘First rule of gift-taking, V. You can’t give it back. No returns, remember?’
‘Maybe at the store.’ She gave him a sorry smile at the reminder of when he’d given her the bolt of fabric. ‘But this was your grandmother’s. It’s a Russell heirloom.’
‘And now it’s yours.’ He looked down at the diamond in her palm. Light caught the precious stone making it sparkle but all he could see was a stretching darkness without her in his life.
‘But your father…?’ She shook her head.
‘Is a logical and honourable man. He’ll understand that a gift is a gift.’
‘I’m glad he will, because I don’t. They’ll think I was only after your money or something. They’ll think badly of me.’
‘Never, Victoria. No one could ever think badly of you.’
‘Oh, some people do.’
‘Tell me their names and I’ll go steal their pocket money.’
‘And you would too.’ She laughed softly, but her eyes were sad, her body language was resolute. She’d made up her mind.
So had he. He wanted her. He loved her. But he knew if he told her that she’d run up those stairs and lock him out of her life. She’d made a decision based on what she thought was the right thing to do. Well, so could he. ‘I’m not leaving.’
‘And I will not back down.’ Her chin lifted. ‘This has to finish. We agreed.’
‘And we can un-agree. We’re grown-ups, can’t we talk about it?’ OK, his emotions were rattling out of control. He felt a gaping chasm open up in his chest. ‘What are you scared of, Victoria?’
She glared at him realizing he was throwing back at her the words she’d said to him that night at the hospital. ‘Nothing.’
‘So why are you giving this up? I know you feel for me the way I do about you. Hell… I don’t know what’s going to happen, I don’t have a crystal ball, but I want to try. I want us to try.’
‘No, Ollie.’ She looked at her toes.
‘You’re scared.’
Her head flew up and she locked eyes with him, vulnerability seeping from every pore. ‘Yes. Yes, OK? I’m scared.’
‘I won’t hurt you. I promise.’ He meant it too, more than anything he’d ever promised. He held her close to his heart. His everything. His Victoria.
‘It’s me. I’ll do the hurting.’ She shook her head, more tears threatening.
He couldn’t believe she was willing to throw this away. ‘So, you’re scared and choosing to jump? What about living your best life?’
‘This is the best I can have, OK?’ Her expression changed from vulnerable to angry. Lashing out. She was like a trapped animal, attacking. ‘And I happen to like my life.’
‘We could have more. Bigger. Everything.’
‘I don’t need two helicopters.’ She sighed, closing her eyes as if she was in pain. ‘I just can’t explain.’
There was a lot more to this and she wasn’t making any efforts to tell him the truth. ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not going to make a difference. This has to end. I never intended for it to get this deep. I wasn’t thinking. I just got carried away. I…’ She put her head in her hands.
‘Do I not get a say in any of this?’
‘Not if you’re going to try to talk me out of my decision.’ She lifted her head and held his gaze. One second. Two.
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Kind and funny and determined and driven. Everything he could ever want. He stroked her cheek. ‘I want you, V.’
‘Don’t make this harder than it is, Ollie. We had a deal. I’ve honoured my part, now please honour yours.’ She stood, slid past him and walked to the door.
He counted the steps, offering a deal to the devil with each footfall if she’d change her mind.
When she actually pulled the door open, he knew any hope was lost. But he did deals all the time. It was about compromise and priority. She was his number one. ‘What can I do? How can I change your mind?’
‘You won’t.’
‘Not even with this?’ He tilted her face to his. Saw the confusion and the struggle, felt the tiniest bit of softening in her body. He wouldn’t have kissed her if he thought she didn’t want it, but she leaned in, straining towards him. He pressed his lips to hers.
She gasped, grabbing his coat
lapels to pull him closer and moaning into his mouth. ‘Oliver. Ollie.’
‘I want you. You want me. I know you want me.’ She just didn’t want… what? He didn’t understand. She couldn’t explain. But whatever it was must have been so private or so dark she didn’t want him to know. She was hurting and she couldn’t tell him.
He hugged her against him, telling her with this kiss how much she meant to him. How he loved her. How they could make this work.
But he felt the wet of her tears on his face and he knew. She wasn’t welcoming him back with this kiss, she was letting him go.
They stood there in her dimly lit corridor, holding on, gripping each other. Twenty seconds. More. He wanted to hold her for ever. If he’d known he’d fall for her like this, and so hard, he’d have never made that deal at all. Or made it for a hundred years.
When she pulled away her shoulders started to shake. She closed her eyes and controlled them. Then she put her palm to his chest. ‘Goodbye, Oliver. Thank you for giving me the chance to be something different. Something special.’
‘Oh, God, Victoria. You are.’
‘So are you.’ She nodded, completely in control now, which was a damned sight more than he could say about himself. Then she stepped aside and indicated for him to leave.
He stood out there for longer than he dared to think. Every part of him raging. Why would she do this? When they had a chance at something good?
Hell. What had he missed? Why didn’t the jigsaw pieces fit? How did one particular woman have such an effect on his heart and his soul? Her taste was on his lips, her perfume on his hands. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted the real her. For fifty years.
He’d never fallen in love before. Never opened himself up to the prospect of hurt. And now he knew why.
She didn’t linger and watch him walk away. Didn’t press her face to the window or run to him. She shut the door. Closed the chapter. Completed the deal.
And snapped his heart into a million pieces.
Victoria leaned against the closed door and lost the fight with her tears. She loved him and she’d pushed him away with no explanation.
Meet Me in London: The sparkling new and bestselling romance for 2020. Perfect escapism, for fans of Lindsey Kelk and Heidi Swain. Page 25