For King and Country (13 page)

T
he next few days passed in a blur, and I found myself, despite my best intentions, checking the email alert that Belle had set up for me. It didn’t matter though. Alexander was flying low under the radar. The only contact he seemed to be making with the outside world was the texts he sent to my mobile. He was making it hard to stick to my decision to end our brief relationship before it got out of control. I took to repeatedly reminding myself it was better to end things now to get through the day. We barely knew each other after all, but the fact that Alexander hadn’t given up suggested maybe I wasn’t crazy for having a hard time calling it quits.

There was still so much I wished I knew about him; however, I knew my fascination with him wasn’t healthy. Alexander came with baggage that I couldn’t carry. The fame. The darkness. The control issues. It was too much, too fast.
He
consumed me when he was near me and occupied my mind when he wasn’t. Ending it was the only option.

So why couldn’t I let him go?

But this morning I had bigger things on my mind. At least, I was trying to keep the fact that I was starting my new job at Peters & Clarkwell my top priority. In actuality, the fact was that I was failing miserably.

“You should block him,” Belle suggested as she poured me a cup of coffee.

“He has access to SIS,” I reminded her. “I’m not sure it will matter if I block him.” I didn’t add that I’d already tried and couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“I don’t like seeing you this way. Are you sure this girl is really something to get so miffed over?”

Belle’s heart was in the right place, because I hadn’t been able to tell her the truth. That the real reason that I’d walked away from Alexander had nothing to do with the tabloid photos of him with Pepper Lockwood. How could I explain to her that he scared me? She knew I’d attracted the wrong men in the past. She would completely understand my compulsion to run if she knew what he wanted, and maybe that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Belle would never look at Alexander the same way again. What I couldn’t figure it out is why I cared so much. He wanted to dominate me. He claimed only in the bedroom. He claimed it would be safe. But was that a risk I was capable of taking?

“I don’t know,” I said, not able to lie to her. At least, not entirely. “Maybe I’m just hurt, but I think it’s better if we get some distance.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I snatched it up before she could see what it said. Alexander’s texts ranged from reasonable to wildly sexual, although I expected the overly dirty ones came from a night spent drinking too much. He’d managed to keep them respectful for the most part, which made it even harder not to respond.

“Whatever he did, he isn’t trying to hide that he’s thinking about you.” Belle flipped her hair over her shoulder and shot me a meaningful look.

“He’s thinking about sex, like most guys,” I corrected her.

“Most guys don’t bother thinking at all, let alone texting you repeatedly.”

I turned my attention to my coffee, hoping it would steady the agitated beat of my nerves. “I can’t worry about this. I start work today.”

“And you look fabulous,” Belle said, switching topics on my cue. At least, I could count on her to know when to drop something.

I looked fabulous because Belle had organized my new wardrobe for me and helped me pick out my first outfit. She’d abandoned two days of catering appointments to focus on distracting me, and I was grateful. As it turns out, I wasn’t hopeless in the fashion department because this morning she only had to correct my choice of shoes. I still wasn’t sold on wearing three-inch Jimmy Choos to work, but who was I to argue with Belle? I’d knotted my hair into a loose bun at the back of my neck, not wanting to look too young or too frigid, and put on just enough makeup to give my pale skin some color.

“Do you think this dress is okay?” I smoothed down the simple linen shift as I stood, wondering for the tenth time if I should wear a jacket. Summer was fast approaching and I expected the walk to be warm. The last thing I wanted was to show up sweaty on my first day, but then again, I wasn’t convinced a sleeveless dress was work appropriate.

“Stop obsessing.” Belle shook her head. “You look great and you do not need a jacket, before you even ask. They’re damn lucky to have you. You don’t need that job, Clara.”

“That doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want,” I argued.

“No, but it does mean you don’t have to worry about what they think of you—or at least what they think of your clothes. But even so, you look like a sophisticated career woman, and they’re going to die over your accent.”

I hung my head dramatically. “I don’t have an accent.”

“You’re an American in London, honey.”

“I’m not American!”

“If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck,” she said with a wink.

All the enthusiasm drained from my body, and I lurched forward to clutch the countertop. Was this how it was always going to be? Little things reminding me of Alexander. Little things driving me crazy. All the what-if’s and might-have-beens chipping away my sanity.

“What is it?” Belle cried, setting her mug down so quickly that its contents splashed over the rim. She caught my arm and peered at me with concern.

I could only shake my head, forcing a small laugh to lighten the mood. “It’s nothing.”

“You were thinking about him, weren’t you?” There was no accusation in the question. It was soft and welcoming, practically begging for me to confide in her. “I know there’s more going on here, Clara. Bloody hell, if I’d known he was going to have this effect on you, I would never have encouraged you to go out with him.”

“Why would you think he has an effect on me? I barely know him.” But my words were hollow. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about Alexander. The trouble was both that I wanted to know them and that I had glimpsed enough to feel bound to him. In fact, I knew it wasn’t just a feeling. I was bound to him, but I couldn’t explain that to Belle. I could barely explain it to myself.

“Oh darling.” Belle brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear and wrapped her arms around me. “Today is not about him. You worked really hard to get here.”

She was right. I couldn’t let Alexander ruin this for me. If I really wanted to prove I was independent, that I didn’t want him, I had to stand on my own two feet and do it.

“I’m going to kill myself in these heels,” I said, ready to talk about anything else.

“Nonsense. Those heels are tame,” she reminded me.

I laughed when I considered the sky-high stilettos she’d convinced me to purchase for nights on the town. Apparently she didn’t fear mixing alcohol and footwear as much as I did.

“I need to get going.”

“Here.” Belle shoved a bag in my hand. “Lunch.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, pecking her on the cheek.

“No excuses. Take a lunch break. I don’t want you to work yourself to death!”

Smiling as I closed the door to the flat behind me, I realized I had someone watching out for me after all.

My desk consisted of a small table crammed into a cubicle as far from the window as possible, and I loved it. I had earned that desk and the small name plate that my new boss had presented to me upon my arrival. That was what I couldn’t explain to my parents or to Belle: the sense of pride at having worked for something. I loved them all dearly, but it was something they just couldn’t fathom.

“The facsimile machine is in here,” Bennett explained to me as I followed him through the office. I was pleased that hardly anyone gave me a second glance. My brief moment of notoriety seemed to be a distant memory to everyone. Of course, maybe they weren’t as in tune with the breaking stories of TMI and other less dignified news organizations. Serious work was done here.

“We’re about to start a campaign with Isaac Blue’s foundation to raise awareness about drinking water safety in Africa. I know you have some experience working with the well-known...” Bennett trailed away as soon as he saw my face.

“Sorry,” I choked out, gesturing for him to continue.

“When your parents sold their company, you spent some time in society circles,” he prompted, and I immediately felt foolish. Of course, that’s what he meant. We’d discussed my parents’ company during my interview. He would have done follow-up research.

“I was a little too young to really remember that,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bennett waved it off. “I’m just trying to warn everyone now because Isaac might be sitting in on some meetings and well...”

“I get it,” I said with a smile. I couldn’t exactly blame the boss for wanting to let everyone know we were going to be working with one of the sexiest actors alive. A year ago, that news might have thrilled me. I probably would have rushed to text Belle as soon as I had a moment alone, but now it barely made a dent.

Bennett welcomed me into his office and took his seat. I smiled when I saw the photograph he had of two identical blond-haired girls on his desk.

“Abby and Amy,” he said with a broad smile. His affection for them was obvious. “They’re six going on eighteen.”

“You must have your hands full,” I said, thinking of how much trouble Lola and I had caused when we were kids. We’d been born so close together that we’d acted like twins up until secondary school.

Bennett tucked his hands behind his head and frowned. He was a good-looking guy in his early forties with salt and pepper hair and age lines that made him look distinguished. He was lucky to be aging well, but I guessed the twins were keeping him young. “When I was your age, I did this job because I idealized the world. Now that I have them, I do it because I don’t.”

I nodded as if I understood.

“Who are you doing this for?” he asked. “Do you have a significant other?”

I swallowed against my dry mouth and shook my head. At least I knew he hadn’t heard about me and Alexander. There was no way he would have asked if he had. “Nope. I’m doing it for me.”

“It’s as good a reason as any.” He shook his head and smiled at me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all deep on you. I think I’ve been a little too philosophical since my wife died.”

I stifled a gasp, even as my hand flew to my chest. I wasn’t sure if I hurt more for him or for the girls. I had a trying relationship with my mom, but at least she was around. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said sincerely. “My therapist wants me to talk about it casually to others so that it becomes more real to me.”

I couldn’t keep my face from screwing up at this bit of information. “Your therapist sounds like a dick.”

As soon as it was out of my mouth, I wished I could swallow it back down, but it was too late. To my relief, Bennett dropped his head back and bellowed.

“You know, Clara. You’re right. I thought the same thing, but everyone kept telling me I had to go and see him,” he said. “I should probably cancel my next appointment, huh?”

“I guess if that’s the best he can do,” I said apologetically. “I’ve been here all of an hour, and I’m already butting into your personal life. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a refreshing change of pace. Everyone else here,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “was around when she died. They treat me like I’m made of glass.”

I knew what it was like to be deemed fragile. It became impossible to tell if you’d really break if you fell after a while. “I won’t treat you that way.”

“You’re going to be hard on me then?” He looked at me hopefully.

I cracked a smile. “You have no idea.”