Lying in Shadows

by Sofia Grey

  “Thank you for walking me back.” It was all of two blocks, but she enjoyed having him at her side.

  “Sleep well.” He made no move to leave.

  Silence hung between them. Marianne should turn on her heel and walk into the apartment building, but she didn’t. What was it about Marcus that drew her so much? He was a complication she couldn’t afford.

  “You too.” The quick hug she gave him was impulsive. Air-kissing cheeks was as close as they’d been up to now. The squeeze he gave her made her pulse quicken, but she moved. Stepped free. “Goodnight, Marcus.” She didn’t look back at him. She couldn’t.

  The concierge had delivered her bags, which sat in a neat pile inside the warm apartment. She needed to unpack, hang up her office clothes, and connect her laptop and tablet into the WiFi.

  Instead, she drifted around the place that would be her home for the coming months. Open-plan kitchen and small lounge. Bedroom. Bathroom. Everything she needed, but she only paid the barest attention.

  Why was she always attracted to unavailable men? AJ was the first, and Marcus the latest. When would she learn?

  Tiredness mixed with melancholy was a bad combination, and she had to shake it. She needed to focus. Put all her energy into the issues at work. Fix the leak. Her future at TM-Tech would be assured if she did a good job here.

  Tonight, though—what was left of it—she could wallow. Indulge in her memories.

  She switched on the TV and flicked through the channels. She knew what she searched for, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself.

  And there he was.

  It was no good. Marianne needed another drink. She dug into one of her bags and retrieved the bottle of duty-free vodka. It was room temperature, but she didn’t care. She poured a generous measure, sprawled on the sofa to watch TV, and feasted her eyes on AJ. Even after all this time—almost ten years—he still had the power to make her stomach churn.

  Oh shit. The video clip segued into one of the songs they wrote together, “Another Day”. Of all their material, this was her favorite, for so many reasons. AJ stood alone on the stage, playing a soft but insistent melody on his guitar as he crooned the opening words. There was a pause, the drums burst in, and Sam’s bass guitar picked up the riff. AJ took a breath and belted out the words, his voice almost hoarse.

  Marianne sang along, in the privacy of her apartment.

  Another day, another way

  Another time for me and you.

  I’ll find a way, another day,

  To come and find only you.

  The video finished abruptly, with AJ slumped over the microphone, exhausted by the effort. Behind him, Sam gave a wicked grin. That was the image she wanted to remember him by—so full of life—on this live footage shot a few months before he died. She reached for her cellphone and tapped out a short text.

  Thinking of you today. Hope you are OK. Maz

  This was the advantage to her father’s being the band’s manager—she had AJ’s private number. She could get his address too if she wanted, but she shied away from that.

  Six in the morning arrived way too soon, and Marianne thought longingly about staying in bed another hour or three. Her mouth was dry, and her head ached. The combination of jetlag and vodka was brutal, but she forced herself to sit up and reach for her phone.

  Would AJ have replied to her text?

  He had, a little after midnight.

  Thx

  Marianne didn’t know whether to be pleased he replied, or disappointed he didn’t say more. She settled for somewhere in between.

  She spent the last ten years running away from these memories. Starting today, she would lock thoughts of AJ away at the back of her mind again.

  * * * *

  Sylvie stepped out of the elevator onto the secure floor and waited for Lara to catch up. “Lovebirds.” She rolled her eyes in amusement, as Lara blew a kiss to her husband. “You’ll be seeing him at lunch, anyway.”

  “Maybe. We’ve no idea how busy we’re going to be on the audit. Lunchtimes might be sandwiches at our desks, if we’re lucky.”

  The morning flew by. Lara’s prediction about lunch turned out to be true, and they arranged to meet up with Nick and walk together to the nearest sandwich bar for takeouts. Since neither Rico nor Marianne had meetings scheduled, Sylvie asked if they’d like her to pick up lunch for them. Her timing was perfect. She caught Rico leaning on Marianne’s desk while he pointed at something on her screen.

  Oh my. He didn’t just look good, he also smelled divine. Whether it was his deodorant or aftershave, woody, burned sugar was Sylvie’s newest favorite fragrance.

  Pulling her wits together, she held out the menu she just printed. “They do great sandwiches and salads, and if you get there early, there are baked potatoes too. They go really quickly though.” And if she kept babbling, the lunch break would be over before she knew it.

  “Great idea, Sylvie. Thank you.” Marianne glanced at the sheet of paper. “I’d love a chicken salad please. Hold the dressing.” She dipped into her wallet and produced some cash.

  Rico, meanwhile, gazed at the options. “I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind. I need some fresh air.”

  She wanted to run around the office, pumping her fist in delight, but she managed to keep her cool. “No problem. Lara and her husband are coming too. It’s not far.”

  They met Nick in the foyer of the office block and set off through the lunchtime rush. Rico fell into step with Sylvie, and they trailed a couple of paces behind the others. “I don’t know this part of London,” he said. “Is there a good gym somewhere close?”

  “I go to one nearby. They do short-term memberships too, if you’re interested.”

  “I could be. When are you going next?”

  It took all of Sylvie’s self-control, to sound casual. “Tonight. I go to a kickboxing class.”

  He gave her a sideways glance and a hint of a smile. “Could be fun. What time does it start?”

  “Seven. I usually stay late at work and go straight across.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  They reached the sandwich bar. Sylvie hadn’t noticed anything about the walk there, and she paused, momentarily disoriented. Rico wanted to go to the gym with her. Tonight.

  “If it’s a problem...” he gazed at her, and she pulled herself together.

  Had she been gaping at him? Drooling, maybe? “Not a problem. Let’s do it.”

  * * * *

  The day passed in a blur of activity for Marianne, and she knew the weekend would be filled with work. She planned to catch up on some sleep, but that was all. At six in the evening, after most people had left, Marianne headed upstairs to meet Marcus, Rico, and Pete, for the evening briefing.

  Marcus had fresh coffee waiting for them, and they settled around the table in his office.

  Marianne went first, glancing at her tablet to remind herself of her notes. “Not much to say yet. I’ve got my admin people setting up interviews with the executive team for next week, and the project reviews start the week after. We’ve also kicked off the audit trails for the major capital programmes. I’m drafting the corporate communications to go out next Monday, and I’ll be working on the detailed plans over the weekend.” She looked at Pete. “How did you get on today?”

  “I’ve started on the network security review. I’ll have an initial report for us by the end of next week.” He sat back in his chair looking relaxed, and turned his head to look at Rico. “Next.”

  Rico flicked through a sheaf of notes. “Same here,” he said. “I’m data gathering at the moment. I’ve got meetings with all the separate finance heads next week, then the bankers. I’ve pulled up the previous audit results, and I’ll do a line-by-line comparison over the weekend.” He paused and ran one hand through his hair. “I know you’ve done security profiles on everyone, Marcus, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to go through them again.” His voice was smooth, with a hint of a Spanish accent. Marianne made a me
ntal note to ask where he came from.

  Marcus shrugged. “Sure, if you think you need to. Was there anyone in particular?”

  He’d gone for lunch with Sylvie and Lara... “You wouldn’t be looking at the two admin girls would you? Wanting some background information on them?” She made air quotes with her fingers, and he huffed a short laugh. She decided to take pity on him. “I can tell you that Lara Anderson is recently married. Her husband, Nick, works in Marketing, and they’ve both been with TM-Tech for a couple of years. Sylvie Woodrow has been here around eight months. I believe she’s single.”

  He held up his hands in protest. “Thanks, Marianne. That wasn’t quite what I had in mind. I’ll let you know.”

  There was nothing else to discuss, and Marianne figured the meeting was over. Pete left, and she turned to Rico. “We’re going out for a curry tonight, if you want to join us? I’m going to introduce Marcus to really hot food.”

  Rico shook his head. “I’m off to the gym. I found one around the corner. Maybe another night?”

  Marcus shuffled his papers together and flicked through some notes. He seemed distracted, and Marianne felt a tendril of concern. “We can talk about this more over dinner,” she suggested. “How long do you need, to finish off here?”

  He met her gaze. “Half an hour? I want to make some phone calls. I’ll come downstairs and get you when I’m ready.”

  Chapter Four

  Sylvie had been going to the kickboxing class for six months and recently gained a yellow belt, but she was still very much the beginner. As she changed into her silky shorts and cropped top, and fitted her shin guards, she couldn’t help wondering if Rico had kickboxed before. He hadn’t asked about her belt color or how long she’d been in the sport.

  She’d find out soon enough. She picked up her padded gloves and headed into the practice hall. She greeted a couple of her classmates and grabbed a foam mat for the stretching exercises, keeping her eyes open for any signs of Rico.

  They walked to the gym together, and she left him sorting out his membership. Surely he didn’t leave? He carried a gym bag with him, so maybe he went into another class. Disappointment flooded her, and she put all her energy into a vigorous warm-up.

  “Hey, Sylvie,” said Brandon, the class instructor.

  She looked up from her stretches, conscious that her face was bright pink with exertion, and saw Brandon, with Rico at his side.

  “I’ve a new sparring partner for you tonight.” Brandon smiled, oblivious to her growing excitement. “I believe you know each other? Sylvie is a yellow belt, so she’ll be able to give you a good workout.”

  “Thanks,” said Rico. “We’ll be fine.”

  Brandon walked away, and Sylvie tried not to stare at Rico. He clearly exercised regularly at something. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he looked fit and strong. And hot.

  Her gaze was drawn to a tattoo on his upper right arm. It looked like a bulldog, with writing underneath. She leaned closer, to read the words. “Semper Fi. It sounds Latin.” It also sounded annoyingly familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She gave him a teasing grin. “Or is it the name of your girlfriend?”

  “Hell no.”

  Their banter was cut short by the class starting, and before long, they went into sparring and kicking techniques. Sylvie was impressed. Rico seemed a lot more experienced than he claimed to be. He blocked most of her best moves and seemed to hold back when it was his turn to kick. She was intrigued. What kind of guy joined a kickboxing class and pretended to be worse than he really was?

  It turned into the best workout she’d had in this class. When they finished, she was left gasping for breath, with a huge grin on her sweaty face. In comparison, Rico looked fresh and as cool as though he’d been for a stroll through a quiet park.

  She dabbed her face with her towel and took a swig of water. It was now or never. Did she dare ask him out?

  “Hey,” she said, before she could change her mind. “I wondered if you’d like to get a drink. You’re new in town, so I could show you a few places.” She crossed her fingers behind her back and gave him the most confident smile she could.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. That’d be good. See you in half an hour?”

  For the second time that day, Sylvie wanted to cheer aloud. Wait until Lara heard about this. Sylvie’d text her from the changing rooms. Damn. She only had work clothes with her. When she set out this morning, she didn’t imagine she’d be going out with Rico.

  * * * *

  Marcus stared again at the text from Louisa. She sent it while he was in the briefing session.

  Good news and bad. Our last attempt didn’t work either, so I am not happy at the moment (the bad news). Kate says she will look after Ted for a few days next week, so I can come down to see you (the good news). Ring me if you have time. I miss you. L xxx

  It made him feel guilty as hell, but relief surged inside him at the news she wasn’t pregnant again. He loved Ted, and couldn’t imagine a world without his bubbly, playful, young son, but it didn’t mean he wanted another child.

  He promised to work at their marriage though, and so he called her back. He wasn’t disappointed when it dropped to voicemail.

  “Hi, babe. It’s me,” he said. “I saw your message. It’d be great to see you next week, but I’m pretty busy in the office, and I won’t have a lot of time. It’s your call, so let me know your plans. Give Ted a kiss from me.” He hesitated. “Love you.” Damn. It was getting harder to say every time.

  He terminated the call and stared out at the dark evening. He could feel Louisa’s pain from hundreds of miles away. The one thing she wanted, he seemed unable to give her.

  For months they’d been having sex on a schedule. The right time of the month, and only then, as though his sperm would be stronger from abstaining for a few weeks. That was assuming it was him at fault—something Louisa took for granted, even though tests had proved inconclusive.

  Marcus longed for the old Louisa back. The woman he fell in love with, who captivated him so totally, he’d promise her pretty much anything. Somewhere over the past seven years, she’d vanished, leaving Marcus wondering if that was his fault too.

  While on one level it would be good to have Louisa in the city for the weekend, he could predict how she’d react to his work schedule. Speaking of which—could he take the night off to have dinner with Marianne?

  He picked up the phone. Dialed her extension.

  “Hi, Marcus. You ready to go?” Her cheery voice momentarily lifted his mood, but then it plummeted again.

  “Sorry. I need to take a rain check on tonight.”

  “Oh.” She sounded surprised. A little disappointed. “Is there a problem?”

  Marcus sighed. “No. I’ve got too much to do.” He hesitated. “Sorry,” he repeated.

  “Okay. Thanks.” She hung up, still sounding cheerful, and Marcus stared at the handset. He thought she’d try to talk him around.

  There was work to do. He picked up the nearest document that needed attention and tried to focus on that. A few minutes later, when he realized he’d re-read the introduction three times and still had no idea what it said, he admitted defeat. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for work.

  He closed the lid of his laptop, put the document back in its folder, and wandered to the window. It was a stunning view of London from the twentieth floor. Friday night in one of the busiest cities in the world. People everywhere were getting ready to go out for the evening or were out enjoying themselves, while Marcus stood and watched his life hurtle past.

  Christ. When did he turn into such a whining bastard?

  A noise in the outer office made him turn on his heel. Cassie left ages ago, and apart from the security guards, the building should be empty.

  It was Marianne. She leaned against the doorframe and gazed at his desk, at the closed laptop and files. “Looks like you’re rushed off your feet up here.”

  Marcus felt absurdly pleased to see her. She hadn’t given
up on him after all. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “I’ve a suggestion for you.” She stepped into the office, a serious expression on her face. “A wise man once told me off about skipping meals. He thought it was more productive to take a break at least once each day.”

  Marcus rubbed his chin. “I think I said that.”

  “I think you did. So, boss, take your own advice. Grab your coat. We’re going out for some food. And then, if I can’t persuade you otherwise, we’ll both come back and hit the paperwork.” She held out his overcoat. “Deal?” She treated Marcus to a dazzling grin, and he laughed.

  “Deal.”

  It was cold when they left the building, and Marcus looked for a cab.

  Marianne had another idea. “Come on.” She took his arm and led him down the street. “We’re doing this properly and taking the tube.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “A little place I remember from my last visit. It’s in Soho, but don’t let that put you off. Masala Zone. They do the most amazing thali.”

  “Thali?” He repeated the unfamiliar word. “I thought we were having curry?”

  “We are. Think of it as the Indian equivalent to tapas, all bite-sized portions. You get to try loads of different tastes and textures in one go. You’ll love it.” She smiled, as she guided him through the complexities of buying tickets. “Or you’ll hate it. Either way, I intend to make you have a break this evening.”

  It was easy to surrender himself to her plans. He looked around at their fellow passengers when they boarded the busy train. “First time I’ve done this. In London, anyway.”

  She gaped at him, for once silenced. Finding her voice a moment later, she asked, “Well how do you normally get around the city?”

  “Cab. It gets charged back to the company.”

  She laughed and stepped a little closer as the carriage filled up. As he expected, most people appeared to be headed somewhere in search of a good time, laughing and chattering in little clusters of noise. This felt better than sitting in his empty office.