Something Borrowed (16 page)

Let me die. Now.
‘No. Who’d do anything like that? No, Mum, he has nothing to do with online anything. This is Vaughn.
Vaughn Brooks
.’

‘Brooks.’ Mum’s eyes narrowed, and she tapped her foot, her way of trying to jog her memory. Very little of what Bridget Cassidy did made sense to anyone but her. ‘Brooks. Aren’t you… didn’t you… weren’t you…? How do I know you? You look familiar.’

‘Yes, Mum, you have met him before. Very briefly. Vaughn, this is my mum, Bridget.’

He stuck out his hand. ‘Vaughn Brooks, Jason’s best man. Yes. Hello, again.’

Bridget stared at his hand, but she didn’t take it. ‘And what are you doing here?’ Her eyes pigged towards Chloe. ‘Chloe? Why’s he here?’

‘I’m helping Chloe with her…’ Vaughn drew his hand back, smiled a soft secret smile, then looked at the material and the nautical things out on the desk. ‘Navy wedding?’

Thank you, Lord, for a change of subject.
Chloe grasped it. ‘Not exactly. Taylor used to sing on a cruise ship. He likes boats and thought it was appropriate.’

A frown. ‘The wife-to-be? Naval at all?’

‘No,
he
’s a dentist. Nathan. Gay wedding,’ she explained. ‘The pink pound’s normally a goldmine, so I’m hopeful of getting more work from this. It’s going to be spectacular.’ Or would have been had she not stuffed up the chair backs. Still, they were fixed. Crisis over. Thank God for Mum.

Vaughn scratched his head and again had that look as if he was trying hard to keep up. ‘Oh. A wedding, on a boat.’

‘A
love boat
. Lots of people get married on boats. It’s a thing… a theme. More common than you’d think, actually, and even more poignant for them because of Taylor’s past on the cruise ship.’ Chloe shook her head in despair. ‘It doesn’t have to make sense, Vaughn. It’s love.’

‘Oh yeah.’ He scratched his head, looking bemused and incredulous. As if love was something that made his head hurt rather than his heart soar. Sore, maybe, and Chloe knew all about that.

Bridget butted in, fixing him with her evil eye. ‘And you’ve come to help our Chloe with…?’

Please, for the love of God, leave the man alone.

Vaughn stuck his hands back in his pockets. ‘Her brochures. I’ve also got a proposition.’

Now Bridget looked straight at Chloe. ‘Say yes.’

‘Mum!’

‘Beggars can’t be choosers, Chloe.’

‘Please, Mum, you don’t know what he’s here for. He might be wanting to sell me into the slave trade.’

‘Good luck with that. I hope they don’t want you to do any sewing for them. Or cooking for that matter. She’s a useless homemaker, Mr Brooks. Good with numbers, though. Know anyone who wants a slave administrator? She’s your girl.’

Chloe glared and mouthed
shut up
to her mum, then turned back to Vaughn. ‘Kitchen? We can talk without interruptions there.’

‘No need.’ Bridget gathered up the fabric into neat piles and shuffled to standing. ‘Don’t worry about me. I know when I’m not wanted.’

Far from being glad her mum was leaving, Chloe’s gut knotted up. Things between them were a long way from back to normal. Then she looked over at Vaughn; things had never been normal there. Back to her mum. ‘You don’t have to go, Mum. Seriously. Stay.’

Vaughn took a step forward. ‘No, please don’t leave on my account, Mrs Cassidy. What I have to say to Chloe can be said in front of you, don’t worry, it isn’t an inappropriate proposition. I’m not going to sell her into the slave trade.’

‘More’s the pity. But never mind. Three’s a crowd, right you are. I’ll take this, Chloe, and fix your mess up good and proper. Be sure to pop round later, if you’re not too busy, then. We have some talking to do.’ For a second, her Mum was serious and focused. ‘There’s things I need to say.’

‘Yes, Mum.’ Chloe walked her to the door and gave her a hug, holding on just a little longer, hoping the healing properties would help her Mum. Help them both. ‘I’ll call round later. And thank you. Really. You’re a star.’

‘Yes, and don’t forget it.’ She was gone in a huff and a quick slam of the door.

Silence.

And then, as Jenna would say, there were two.

T
here was
a grin the size of Cheshire on Vaughn’s smug face. He was still standing in the middle of the room, filling the space with his height and his presence. Her apartment felt shabby in comparison with his bright aura, which was still guarded, but it shone. Just shone. She tried to look at her place from his eyes, then remembered the chaos of his office.

Then she forgot about that and was just captivated by his eyes, glittering and steely grey as they were, while he laughed. ‘
Timber
? Chloe, really? Any luck?’

‘No. It was hideous. I don’t want to talk about it. Why are you here?’

His shoulders seemed to tense up. ‘Like I said, I owe you an apology for walking out on Saturday.’

Saturday. The almost-kiss scenario. The hours afterwards of quiet, but insistent sexual frustration. More dreams of food porn. ‘You don’t have to apologise, really. Honestly, it’s fine.’

‘It’s not fine at all. So, I’m sorry.’

‘Aha.’ She tapped her foot, because in her language, that meant she was waiting impatiently for more.

He frowned as he looked down at her tapping boot. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m waiting.’

‘For?’

Chloe sighed.
Men.
‘An explanation.’

‘You want an explanation? An apology isn’t enough?’

‘No. I’m not entirely sure what you’re sorry about. The fact that you left in a hurry, or the fact that you… I thought you might…Vaughn, why did you just up and leave like that? Explain yourself.’

‘That’s not fair. Usually, an apology is enough.’ He shook his head and thrust his hands back into his pockets. But after a second, his mouth twisted into a thoughtful kind of pout that had a smile in it. ‘But this isn’t usual, is it? Okay then, I’ll trade you. An explanation for an explanation.’

Her heart thrummed. ‘An explanation about what?’

‘What happened’—he made quote marks with his fingers as he said the next words— “
last time—more
po
-lice?
’’

She couldn’t help laughing at his woeful interpretation of her mother’s accent. ‘Not bloody likely. Not going there. At all. Some things have got to stay private.’

‘Too bad.’ A shrug of lovely broad shoulders. ‘Then you can accept my apology without an explanation, and we’re both off the hook.’

‘I can see right through your games, but you’ve chosen the wrong person to play with.’ And was it hot in here? Ever since he’d stepped foot in her apartment, the temperature had skyrocketed. And did he need to push his sleeves up on his sweater so she could see his muscular arms and the tiny dark hairs that accentuated his many trips to European sunspots?

She leant across the table-cum-desk and pulled the rickety sash window open. Strains of music from the market billowed in along with a gentle spring breeze and the smell of Thai cooking. The whole of Portobello probably knew about the
po-lice
by now. Mrs Singh wasn’t just the sari shop owner; she was the human version of The London Evening Standard. Like it or not, Vaughn was a local business owner, so at some point Chloe’s goings-on would filter back to him, either at a small business network meeting or generally through the loudhailer dressed in a gold and red traditional Indian dress, chatting loudly to anyone who’d listen in the middle of Portobello Road.

Chloe turned to him, her heart thrilling as her gaze settled on his face. A dark rush of heat ran through her. ‘Okay, Vaughn, I’ll tell you my sordid story, if you tell me yours.’

The smile grew. ‘How old are you, Chloe Cassidy? Five? You go first.’

‘How old are you? Six?’

But he kept his mouth firmly shut and glared, looking as if he could comfortably stand there all night and not utter a single word. And she so wanted to know about his dark, sad past that there was nothing to do except talk. ‘Okaaaay. There was a date, and it went badly, but I was late home, and Mum called the police. Your turn.’

‘How badly?’ His fists were curled tight by his sides, and her breath hitched a little at his response. He was agitated because the date had gone badly? Maybe he was the rescuer type? Maybe that was why he’d broken Jason’s news to her at the altar, and why he was so helpful at the wedding? It was just his natural default.

But then she thought about his brooding eyes, standoff looks, the way he’d argued with Laura and his admission about not wanting complications. He wasn’t a rescuer. Far from it. He was a leaver. A loner. A heartbreaker, no doubt, too.

His heartbreaker eyes narrowed. ‘Did he hurt you? Drug you? Chloe, you can’t be too careful these days.’

‘No! No, it was nothing like that. Seriously. It was just, well…’ She thought about poor
DrewsAmused
—what a lot of nonsense over a harmless meeting—and laughed. ‘It was all just a little surreal. Now, don’t think you can get out of it that easily. It’s your turn, so spill,’ she urged.

Vaughn took a breath, eyes no longer glittering, now just a dull polished steel. ‘I had a relationship a few years ago, and it didn’t work out the way I hoped it would.’

That was it?
That was all he was prepared to say? ‘I gathered all that last time you refused to speak about it. But that’s all the details you’re prepared to give?’

‘It’s around about the same number of syllables as you. And as opaque. Your choice, Chloe.’ The look he gave her was insistent and assertive, and she knew that for things to move forward in any way, she had to be honest with him.

She went in to the kitchen and called back, ‘Drink first?’

‘In the afternoon? Must be serious.’ He followed her, leaning against the doorframe as she opened and closed cupboards trying to find some long-lost booze.

‘If I have to spill my guts to you, then yes, I need a drink.’

‘Sure. If you like.’ His eyebrows rose as he watched her scoot down and search in the lower cupboards. And yes, they needed work. They were a chipped, scratched, cheap pine from another decade, and to a sophisticated kitchen person’s eye, like Vaughn’s, they must have seemed very twee. Or just plain bad taste. Certainly not in the food-porn league of his steel professional kitchen. Her kitchen needed work. Or rather, a bomb. Jason had been about to rip it out—no. No more Jason. His cousin grinned. ‘What do you have?’

‘Aha. I knew they were in there somewhere.’ Wishing she was offering him something grand, akin to his dream-inducing mouth-watering morsels, she pulled two sticky bottles out and presented them to him. Hardly food porn generating. Probably not even fit for consumption. ‘Crème de menthe or Jägermeister?’

‘Bleurgh.’ He looked as if he was about to throw up as he scanned the bottles and the sticky ooze down the sides. ‘No. But thank you, anyway.’

‘If I’m honest, they’re probably all well past their use by dates. I think I bought them for Jenna’s twenty-first, which was… five years ago? Yeah, I’m twenty-eight, and she’s two years younger. Yes, five years. Anyhoo, I’m not a regular drinker.’

His mouth contorted as if he’d swallowed acid. ‘So I gather. I should have brought wine. I’ll stick to tea. No? Coffee? No? Ah well, hit me with it—not the crème de menthe or the Jägermeister—the po-lice thing, or you won’t get the photos or my proposition.’

‘Bloody hell, you drive a hard bargain.’

‘So I’ve been told. It’s part of my charm.’ He looked at the frown on her face. Eyebrows rising more as he gave a kind of
I give in
shrug. ‘Or not. Talk.’

So she leant against her trusty ancient wood-effect melamine kitchen counter and told him about the Cassidy Curse and Jenna’s Love Plan, about
TheBigCarlhuna
and his guitar and long, pale fingers and the coffee-stained goodbye note, and about
DrewsAmused
and the dog in the bag. Surprisingly, Vaughn managed to keep a reasonably straight face. Although she did omit to mention the blue smurf fluff escapade, because that was going just a little too deep into her personal life and he hadn’t earned anything like a preview into that territory as yet. Verbally or otherwise.

When she’d finished, he leant back and smothered a grin. ‘So, well. I was right—nothing is straightforward with you at all. But why would you go to all that trouble just for a wedding date?’

Her cheeks heated, because even though the humiliation was great enough when she talked about her dating failures, it was utterly complete with the explanation as to why. ‘Because for some dumb reason, I told you I was bringing a plus-one. It was on the hoof, and I dug a huge hole and promptly jumped right into it. But more, it was really because I wanted to prove to them that I was still someone. To you all.’

‘You are someone, Chloe Cassidy, and you’re worth a million more than them.’

Something bloomed fierce in the centre of her chest. He was very, very good for her ego. And yet still she didn’t tell him about Jason and his dating profile. ‘Now, your turn.’

Oddly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a USB stick with the
Vaughn’s
restaurant logo. Then he wandered back through to the lounge, calling through, ‘Actually before I forget, here’s a stick with my photos. I was going to email them to you, but there’s quite a few of them, and they’re quite big files. I wasn’t sure if your internet connection would be up to big downloads. I thought you might want to have them all together.’

‘That’s kind, thank you.’ She popped the USB stick onto the coffee table and then folded her arms, waiting for him to talk about his past.

‘Grab your laptop and we can make a start choosing some good ones for the brochures. I’ve also added some samples of my flyers and the address of my guy who will do them on the cheap for you.’ He flicked his wrist out and checked the time. ‘I’ve got dinner starting soon, so I can’t stay long. How about we have a quick look?’

She pulled out her laptop and loaded the photos. On the larger screen, they were very good. He tugged the machine towards him and made a few clicks. ‘See, if you crop this one, it pulls the table flowers into focus. And this one… look, the movie backdrop with the yellow brick road swerving off to the right draws your eyes. You could have your logo up there at the top where the road ends.’

Chloe dragged up a chair and sat next to him, mesmerised by his hands as he worked. They were large hands, solid and safe with a history she knew nothing about. A history she suddenly was desperate to learn. ‘You’re avoiding telling me the story, aren’t you?’

His eyes were kind but still guarded. ‘Nothing gets past you, does it? Chloe, this isn’t the time. But safe to say, I’m not a great bet when it comes to relationships. So, in case… you know, the friends thing and the dancing? I don’t do long term.’ He patted his chest over his heart. ‘Scarred for life, I’m afraid.’

Loved and lost. Her heart squeezed a little, but instead of being disappointed, her estimation of him increased tenfold. He was at least honest, as she’d imagined he would be. And that made everything a million times worse. Because the better he became, the higher her chance was of actually liking him. She did not want to like Vaughn Brooks. ‘You’re like Jenna.’

‘Possibly.’

‘She won’t take any more risks either.’

He frowned again. ‘It’s not about taking risks. It’s about…’ He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. ‘It’s about taking risks.’

‘And you’re telling me this, why?’

‘Self-protection, really.’ Well, geez, the man was definitely honest, which made it even more dangerous to be with him. She didn’t know much about honest men; she was realising. ‘And for your own good.’

‘Thank you, but it’s fine. Really. I’m not looking for anything either. I’m through with love. Completely. In fact, I’d go as far as to say I don’t believe in it.’

‘Really?’ He actually looked affronted.

She tried to explain. ‘Okay, hear me out on this. How can love be such a great thing if it tears you up inside? If it breaks your heart?’

‘Then it wasn’t love. Not a true kind of love. That’s got to come from both sides. One plus one makes a whole lot more than two. It makes a whole world.’

‘Well, wow.’ He’d had that, she guessed, an all-consuming, giving and taking, non-selfish love. That once in a lifetime thing. ‘I lucked out then. What with the curse and everything. I don’t even want to try to find it.’

‘So you say.’ He made a few more clicks of the mouse and cropped a photo of the wedding cake and copied and pasted it onto a mock-up of a business flyer. Then he rotated it a few degrees sideways. ‘Hence the online dating thing?’

‘Don’t make things sound more complicated than they are. I just needed a wedding date, and you know why.’ The man was a marvel at Photoshop or crop or whatever it was. But it was all just hedging. She tried to sound casual and light but failed as her voice wobbled and came out high-pitched and a little intense. ‘And… the Lost Love?’

His hand froze over the touchpad. ‘Lost love?

‘Sorry, the relationship that didn’t work out the way you hoped it would?’

His fingers tensed, and as she watched, that tension spiral through his arm, his shoulder and his jaw, and he looked so devastated, she regretted pushing him. Because whatever he was going to say, she didn’t want to hear come from his mouth. ‘No more questions now, Chloe, okay? But yeah… she died.’

A
nd that bombshell
was meant to stop her asking more questions? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t imagined that would be the case. Who would have gone to such an extent to purge themselves, as he had done? Travelling the world, immersing himself in his business and making sure there were no connections made. Oh, and the whole
scarred heart
thing.

‘So, you are like Jenna then. You two have a lot in common.’

‘Not something I want to have in common with anyone.’ She could see he’d closed down and shut himself off emotionally. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it, and she’d pushed him too far.

‘No, of course not. I’m sorry. I just meant, she’d understand.’

‘I don’t think anyone does, Chloe, not really.’

They sat for a few minutes staring at the computer screen in silence, yet seeing nothing except maybe a little deeper into territory it was probably inadvisable to explore. And Chloe wondered what it was like to have loved someone so utterly that it meant you weren’t willing to give even a part of yourself up in case the same thing happened again.