Special Relationship (17 page)

By the time the jet was landing at London Luton, thirty miles north of the city, Alex was awake and slumbering in her bed listening to news radio and checking email on her mobile. She had a lot of work to do later in the day writing sales talk with Kerry for prospective new clients. But she allowed herself an extra half an hour lie-in before she threw off the duvet, put on a shirt, and went to the kitchen to make coffee.

Outside, the sound of cars, buses and tube trains grew louder as London started a new day, and she was soon among the bustling horde struggling for space on the cramped trains. She was surprised that on the journey to find herself repeatedly thinking this was the day that Nick Hensen was due back from New York.

At the airport earlier, Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs had been very relaxed about a private jet from New York, especially at that time in the morning, and nodded the passengers through.

Their luggage followed without any checks and all the cheesecakes made it into one of the Hensen company's cars for delivery to his apartment, along with his other belongings.

Another car waited for Katherine to drive her to her home in Islington, north London.

As she was loading a case into the boot, Nick approached her. "Eventful few days."

She smiled perhaps for the first time since they'd left New York. "You are right there."

"Katherine, I didn't have anything to do with that text message and I promise you that I didn't tell a soul about us. You must believe that."

"I'm going to sleep for the rest of the day. I'll see you tomorrow in the office."

"Sure," he replied neutrally before smiling at her and walking to his own car.

On the way to London, he called
Tavis, unconcerned about waking him.

"Mr
Hensen, how are you and how was your trip?"

"I'm good, thanks. And the trip was good, although there is something that I want you to look into."

"And what would that be?"

"I think the apartment in New York might be wired."

Keeping everything as vague as he could, he explained that he had said something in the apartment - to the only other person who was there - that had now seemingly become the knowledge of a third party.

"Can you be more specific?"
Tavis asked.

"It doesn't really matter." Nick replied. "All I want you to do is to get everything checked. Check the apartment, check Elroy and check anything that might have enabled this third party to learn of something that only myself and the person I was with should know about."

"You didn't go with a prostitute, did you?"

"Of course not. I just said something that seems to have become the knowledge of someone who wasn't there."

"What was it, business?" Tavis asked.

"Sort of," said Nick.

"And how do you know this person who wasn't there knows what you said?"

"He or she sent me a text message," he said, distorting the truth.

Tavis suggested they meet up later that day to discuss in more detail the events of Nick's business trip and precisely what was expected of him in unravelling the circumstances of the suspected security lapse.

"
Tavis, I'm absolutely exhausted. I need to sleep. I'll call you later, but if you can arrange a thorough search to see whether there is anything untoward there then I'd appreciate it."

After being told that Katherine was also taking the day off,
Tavis said he'd bring in an outside company and call Nick with the results when they were available.

"Thanks, keep it quiet with anyone who works for us, at least as far as you can, and we'll talk tomorrow."

Back at his flat, Nick showered and lay on the bed in a towel. He was ready for sleep but then remembered the boxes from Katz's deli and went to rescue them from the considerable amount of luggage left in his hallway. Once he'd put the them in the fridge, he went back to sort out the jet lag.

By early afternoon, having slept for four hours, he
embarked on the final stage of Mission Cheesecake. With Katherine unavailable, he called her assistant to find out Alex's office address and then a cab company to take him from Park Lane to Stratford.

The journey took no more than thirty minutes, and he was left outside a dull
60's-style office block that was the home of his new contractor. On the intercom, he announced that he had a delivery for Alex Anderson and after being buzzed in took a flight of stairs to the office that bore the name.

Suzanne opened the door.

"Hi, delivery for Alex Anderson. Is she here?" Nick asked.

"Yes, come in.

"Alex, delivery for you," she shouted across the office as Nick entered with the box of cheesecake in hand.

Alex turned around from her computer to see him smiling at her. She felt herself blushing.

"Hi, Nick, what are you doing here...how are you?" she said trying to compose herself.

"Very well, thanks, here, as promised, is one blueberry cheesecake from Katz's
, New York City.

"It has been personally collected and delivered by myself, and I hope you enjoy it."

Adrian looked on, but couldn't hear what was being said. Kerry recognised Nick from his internet picture, but Suzanne sat back in her chair, wondering who the expensively-dressed delivery boy was.

Alex laughed and held her hands against her face to hide her flushed cheeks. "Nick I was just joking...but thank you...thank you very much."

He was prepared for the awkward silence. "And if you are not too busy I'd like to take you for a coffee or a glass of wine so that we can discuss our contract and, err, the merits of blueberry cheesecake. Err, really, I just wanted to check up on you guys and talk about some new business I've got in mind for you." What that new business was he didn't actually know but he was thinking on his feet.

"Sure," she said.

"Great, can I meet the rest of the gang first?"

She
introduced him to Suzanne and Kerry and then Adrian, whose T-shirt today read "Please don't confuse me with someone who gives a shit".

Alex squirmed as she saw Nick reading the words.

"Liking the T-shirt," he said to Adrian, shaking his hand.

"Perhaps not appropriate when we have a client turning up," Adrian replied. "Not that we have many clients venturing to this part of London."

"Well, I hear you are quite nifty with computers, and your work for us so far has been impressive, so I really wouldn't care if you came to work in a onesie."

"That will never happen," Adrian laughed.

"Damn right it won't," Alex chipped in.

She put the cheesecake in the fridge, where it was
accompanied only by the milk they kept there for coffee. "It's survived New York to London, I'm sure it'll be good for a couple of hours more," she called across the office.

"OK, drink?" she said to Nick, still rather
embarrassed by his visit and what Kerry, Suzanne and Adrian would be gossiping as soon as they left.

"There's not much round here. There's
a wine bar a couple of minutes away but don't expect The Langham or anything," she said as they waited for the lift.

"I can slum it with the best of them," he smiled.

In the bar, they ordered a bottle of dry white and sat opposite each other at a corner table. Their presence doubled the number of customers at the less than salubrious venue.

"Hardly all the rage, is it?" he remarked.

"Well, I did warn you."

"When I first came to London, and asked an agent to find me an office within my price range he suggested Stratford.

"Me, being American, thought he was talking about Stratford-Upon-Avon, like where Shakespeare lived? I asked him how far it was from London and he said that it was in London, on the central line."

"That's funny," he said.

"So how was New York?"

"Oh, just the usual stuff, humouring the investors and a few boring meetings."

"And when did you get back?"

"This morning."

"And you brought my cheesecake this afternoon. I feel very honoured."

He told her how Katherine had found out that cheesecake, being a dairy product, was not allowed to be imported into the UK from a non-EU country. And how he had bought six and spread them throughout his luggage to increase the chance of one of them making it through.

"You are a banker and a cheesecake smuggler. I don't know which might carry the greatest prison sentence," she smiled.

"Oh cheesecake smuggling is a
heinous crime, probably life for that alone."

They continued talking about his New York trip. He told her of his and Katherine's visit to Coney Island while making it sound as they were just colleagues killing time between meetings. Alex listened while more certain than ever that she was being pursued by one of England's most eligible bachelors.

That feeling was soon as good as confirmed.

"Listen, Alex, there is
going to be more work for your company, but the reason I'm here today – and now I'm being totally honest – is that I like you and wanted to bring you your gift from New York, even though it wasn't from Tiffany's, and, well, just to see you again."

"Wow," said Alex, gathering her thoughts. "I'm very flattered. And the present was very sweet, no pun intended."

"Oh and I have five blueberry cheesecakes back in my fridge at home, so just call when you need new supplies.

"Once, they've gone You'll have to fly over to New York every other day."

They were relaxed in each other's company but Alex knew they lived in different worlds and in the back of her mind were the text messages. Also, the thought that she preferred the local pub to a fancy London restaurant and, most crucially, that she had vowed never to fall in love again.

As they left the bar - her to go back to the office
and him back to the glamour world of the ultra rich - Alex had decided this was a relationship she would kill before it started.

When she returned to the office, Alex caught Kerry, Suzanne and Adrian locked in conversation, the topic of which was not hard to guess.

“OK, everyone, it was just cheesecake. Please behave.”

The three of them made a poor attempt not to snicker.

“I'll fire the fucking lot of you,” she remonstrated.

“Kerry, conference, please, store room.”

Among the boxes of paper, printer ink and Adrian's disused computer paraphernalia, Alex told Kerry of her meeting. “He likes me,” she declared.

“And what's not to like back?” Kerry asked. “He is a good-looking guy, obviously romantic and,
err, filthy rich. If someone had brought me cheesecake all the way from New York I'd marry him tomorrow,” she added, before catching the sudden change in her friend's expression.

“You know I don't do relationships...of the serious type...with men,” said Alex, visibly confused, and now apparently close to tears.

Kerry gave her an affectionate hug to try to rescue things. “Do you not think that in this case you should make an exception, babe? He does seem a really nice guy. Just take it easy.”

“And the texts. What are they all about?”

Kerry looked at her, unable to offer an explanation. “If you want me to come over again...”

“No, I'm fine, just feel like an agoraphobic who needs to walk across a big open field.”

“Hey, you said 'needs to' and you know you do.”

Nick had been forward enough at their meeting earlier that, on arriving home, Alex expected him to call that evening. If he did, she had already decided that she would not answer, to allow herself thinking time. But it was not until the following Monday afternoon that his name flashed up on her mobile. She still hadn't had enough time to work things out but these were office hours and he was a client.

“Hi Nick, how's it going?”

“Good, thanks Alex.”

“Problem?”

“No, nothing, reports coming through fine, and being very useful to us. Adrian sure knows how to scrape the internet.”

“Don't tell him or he'll be asking for a pay rise.”

“Well someone has got to keep T-shirt printers in business,”
he quipped.

“I guess so,” she laughed.

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you...good weekend and all that stuff. Eat the cheesecake yet?”

“I did eat the cheesecake – well at least what the others had left me - and it was fantastic, made me sort of think of flying over to collect some more.”

“I've got more in my fridge so any time you want to come over,” he said, and then grimaced at his remark.

Alex, of course, saw this as a thinly-disguised invitation to his apartment and decided to back track on the conversation. “I'll bear that in mind, thanks.” And then, rather too quickly, added, “So what can I do for you?”