The Plus-One Agreement (4 page)

Dan recognised her tone as carefully neutral. She was upset and trying to cover it up. Did this Alistair know her well enough to pick up that little nuance?
Hardly.

* * *

Emma took a sip of her coffee in an effort to hide her disappointment. Had she really thought it would be that simple? That he would just agree to her every whim?

‘We’re spending that weekend in the Hamptons,’ Alistair was saying. ‘I’ve been in talks to land a movie role and one of the producers is having a garden party. Can’t miss it. Lots riding on it. I’m sure Arnold will understand. Career first, right?’ He leaned in towards her with a winning expression and squeezed her hand. ‘We agreed.’

His
career first.

‘Adam,’ Emma corrected. She could hear the disappointment, cold and heavy, in her own voice. ‘His name is Adam. And I really
can’t
miss his wedding.’

Alistair sat back and released her hand, leaving it lying abandoned in the middle of the white tablecloth. His irritation was instant and palpable, and all the more of a shock because he’d never been anything but sweetness and light so far. But then, she hadn’t demanded anything from him so far, had she? She’d been only too eager to go along for the ride.
His
ride.

‘You do whatever you have to do, baby,’ he said dismissively. ‘You can fly out and join me afterwards.’

‘But I really wanted you to be there, to meet my family.’

‘Sorry, honey, no can do.’

Alistair turned to the waiter to order a drink. She noticed that Dan was looking at her with sympathy and she looked away. Everything was unravelling and it was a million times worse because he was here to witness it. She tried to muster up an attitude that might smother the churning disappointment in her stomach as her high hopes plummeted.

From the moment she’d met Alistair he had made her feel special, as if nothing was too much trouble for him. But it occurred to her that it had only related to peripheral things, like flowers and restaurants and which hotel they might stay in. Now it had come down to something that was truly important to her he hadn’t delivered the goods. It wasn’t even up for discussion. Because it clashed with his own plans.

Disappointment mingled hideously with exasperated disbelief. She felt like crashing her head down despairingly on the table. Would she ever, at any point in her life, meet someone who might actually put her first on their agenda? Or was this her lot? To make her way through life as some lower down priority?

‘Look, I don’t want to interfere,’ Dan said suddenly, leaning forward. ‘But how about I step in?’

* * *

‘What do you mean, step in?’ she asked, eyes narrowed.

Suspicion. Not a good sign,
Dan thought. On the other hand Alistair was looking more than open to the suggestion.

Dispensing with Alistair to some swanky party on a different continent was far too good an opportunity to pass up. All he needed to do was step into Alistair’s shoes as Emma’s date and he’d have a whole weekend to make her rethink her actions and to get the situation working for him again.

‘I got my invitation to the wedding this morning,’ he said, thinking of the gaudy card that had arrived in the post, with
‘Groom & Groom!’
plastered across the front in bright yellow, very much in keeping with Adam’s usual in-your-face style.

‘
You’ve
been invited?’ she asked with obvious surprise, as if their interaction had been so fake that all the connections he’d made with her family were counterfeit, too. But he genuinely liked Adam—they’d always had a laugh.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘So if Alistair is away working I can fill in if you like—escort you. It’s not as if I haven’t done it before. What do you think?’

She stared at him.

‘For old times’ sake?’ he pressed. ‘I’m sure Alistair won’t mind.’

He glanced at the ex-cyclist, who held his hands up.

‘Great idea!’ he said. ‘Problem solved.’

Emma’s face was inscrutable.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ she snapped. ‘And actually, Dan, if you don’t mind, we could do with a bit of time to talk this over.’

She looked at him expectantly and when he didn’t move raised impatient eyebrows and nodded her head imperceptibly towards the door.

All was no longer peachy with her and Mr Perfect and that meant opportunity. He should be ecstatic. All he needed to do was leave them be and let the idiot drive a wedge between them, because one thing he knew about Emma was that her parents might drive her up the pole but Adam meant the world to her. Yet his triumph was somehow diluted by a surge of protectiveness towards Emma at Alistair’s easy dismissal of her. He had to force himself not to give the smug idiot a piece of his mind.

He made himself stand up and excused himself from the table.

Give the guy enough leeway and he would alienate Emma all by himself. Dan could call her up later in the role of concerned friend and reinstate their agreement on his own terms.

* * *

Bumped to make room for Alistair’s career?

Her mind insisted on recycling Adam’s comments from the day before.
‘Don’t you think he ought to prove himself before you take that kind of plunge?’
Was it really so much to ask?

The insistent ‘case closed’ way Alistair had refused her suggestion told her far more about him than just his words alone, and it occurred to her in a crushing blow of clarity. How had she ever thought she would come first with someone who had an ego the size of Alistair’s? An ego which was still growing, by the sound of it, if he was trying to break into the movies.

The waiter brought their food and she watched as Alistair tucked in with gusto to an enormous steak and side salad, oblivious to the fact that there was anything wrong between them. He’d got his own way. For him it was business as usual. His whole attitude now irked her. It was as if she should be somehow grateful for being invited along for the ride. She’d been too busy being swept away by the excitement of someone like him actually taking an interest in her to comprehend that being with him would mean giving up her life in favour of his. Where the hell did she come first in all of that?

It dawned on her that he’d have a lot of contractual issues coming his way with his broadening career. Was that what made her attractive to him? The way she dealt so efficiently with legal red tape on his behalf? Had he earmarked her as his own live-in source of legal advice?

This wasn’t a relationship; it was an
agreement.
All she’d done was swap one for another. She could be Dan’s platonic plus-one or Alistair’s live-in lawyer. Where the hell was the place for what
she
wanted in any of that?

‘It’s all off, Alistair,’ she said dully. It felt as if her voice was coming from somewhere else.

He peered at her hardly touched plate of food.

‘What is, honey? The fish?’

He looked around for a waiter while she marvelled at his self-assurance that her sentence couldn’t possibly relate to their relationship. Not in
his
universe. Alistair probably had a queue of women desperate to date him, all of them a zillion times more attractive than Emma. He had international travel, a beach home in Malibu, a little getaway in the Balearics, his own restaurant and a glittering media career in his corner. What the hell did she have that could compete with that? Interfering parents and a tiny flat in Putney? Why the hell would he think she might want to back out?

‘Us,’ she said. ‘You and me. It’s not going to work out.’

He gaped at her.

‘Is this because I won’t come to your gay brother’s wedding? Honey, have you any idea how much is riding on this new contract? This is the next stage of my career we’re talking about.’ He shook his head at her in a gesture of amazement. ‘The effort that’s gone into lining up this meeting. I’m not cancelling that so you can show me off to your relatives at some small-town pink wedding. And it’s not as if I’m stopping you going. That Neanderthal platonic pal of yours has said he’ll step up to the plate.’

She was vaguely aware of people staring with interest from the surrounding tables. His slight about Dan irked her. Neanderthal? Hardly. He looked like an Adonis, and he was smart, sharp and funny. She clenched her teeth defensively on his behalf.

‘I want
you
to come with me. I want you to meet my family.’

‘And I will, honey. When the time’s right.’

‘It’s a family wedding. Everyone who knows me will be in one place for the first time in years. When could the time possibly be more right than that?’

His face changed. Subtly but instantly. Like the turning of a switch. The easy, open look that had really taken her in when she’d first met him, the way he’d listened to her as if she mattered and showed her real, genuine interest, was gone. That look was now replaced by a sulky, petulant frown.

‘Because it’s all about
you,
of course,’ he said. ‘No regard for
my
career. You have to make these opportunities, Emma, and then follow them up. You don’t mess people like this about, because there are no second chances. I can’t believe you’re being so selfish.’

For a moment the Emma she’d grown up to be actually questioned her own judgement on the strength of that last comment of his. The insecure Emma, whom she’d begun to push out of her life when she’d at last moved away from home and gone to university—a place where she had finally been accepted without reference to Adam or anyone else. With her own successes not watered down but recognised. After university she’d moved to London instead of going home to the West Country, in case that old, pessimistic Emma was somehow still there, lurking, ready to take over.

No way was she going back to
that
mindset now.

She pushed her plate to one side and leaned down to pick up her bag and take out her purse. She took enough money to cover her own meal and put it down on the table. She didn’t throw it down. She wasn’t going to resort to stupid tantrum gestures—she was a professional.

‘I’m sorry, Alistair.’ She shook her head at him. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought there would be more to us than being driven by your career. You want me to travel with you so I can iron out your legal issues, don’t you? Maybe draw up the odd contract, or just hand out advice where you need it?’

He didn’t say anything.

‘Come on—be honest with me. Is that what this has really been about?’

A long pause.

‘Well, you can’t deny it’s an advantage,’ he said eventually. ‘But only in the same way as if you were a hairdresser or a stylist.’

‘I thought we were having a relationship. I didn’t realise I was joining your entourage,’ she snapped. ‘I should never have let myself get swept away by this. Have a nice trip back to the States.’

She left the table and aimed her shaky feet at the exit, determined not to look back. When she did, inevitably, she saw that he was signing autographs for the people at an adjacent table. No attempt to follow her or talk her round. But why would he? He undoubtedly had a queue of people waiting to take her place.

She pressed her teeth hard together and concentrated on them to take her mind off the ache in her heart and the even worse heat of stupidity in her face.

She’d bigged up her relationship with him beyond all reason. How could she have been such a fool?

Now she had to face the climb down.

FOUR

Emma glanced
around the half-empty office, grateful that her colleagues had finally drifted out for lunch. She’d informed HR first thing that her new, glamorous life as the jet-set girlfriend of Alistair ‘White Lightning’ Woods was no longer happening and the news had quickly filtered through the staff. At least she hadn’t jacked her job in completely. That would have made things a whole lot worse. And it was best to get the humiliation over with, right?

Except that she wasn’t sure how many more sympathetic stares she could take.

Her phone blared into life and she looked down at the display screen.

Dan. Again.

She pressed her hot forehead with the heel of one hand, as if it might help her think clearly. There’d been rather a lack of clear thinking around her lately.

What the hell had possessed her to let Alistair Woods sweep her off her feet? She was a sensible professional. She knew her own mind and she never took risks. Was she so bogged down in a stupid teen inferiority complex, in a lifetime of failed one-upmanship with Adam, that she’d momentarily lost all common sense? She’d built a life here in London, where she blended in. She’d excelled at not being noticeable and her professional life had flourished. And now, the one time she’d ventured out of that safe box, the same old outcome had happened. Her judgement had been rubbish, she hadn’t measured up and it had all come crashing down around her ears. Why had she ever thought things would be different with Alistair?

Defensive heat rose in her cheeks even as she picked up the phone. By extreme bad luck Dan had been there in the restaurant to see that her romance with Alistair wasn’t such a bed of roses after all. The thought of filling him in on all the details made a wave of nausea rise in her throat and her eyes water.

‘Hello.’ She shaped her voice into the most neutral tone she could muster.

‘Hey.’

His voice was warm, deep and full of concern, and her heart gave a little flutter because as a rule Dan Morgan didn’t do concern. He did sharply professional business demands, he did high expectations, he did arm’s length.

‘Just checking that you’re OK.’

I blabbed to everyone who knows me in London that I was on the point of eloping with the most desirable man in sport. I’ve made the biggest fool of myself and now I have to tell everyone that, actually, he’s an arse and it’s not going ahead. So, yes, thanks, I’m just peachy.

Climbing down in front of Dan was somehow worst of all. And not just because she was embarrassed at her own poor judgement when she should have known better. There was a tiny part of her mind that was busy pointing out that for the first time ever Dan was showing interest and support for her beyond what she could do for him and his work. Had he suddenly realised he valued her as more than just a handy plus-one? How many missed calls from him had she had since lunchtime? Five? Wasn’t that a bit excessive?

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ she said.

‘Things just seemed a little tense at lunch yesterday.’

As if you could cut the atmosphere with a chainsaw.

‘Did you get everything sorted with Alistair?’

A rush of bitterness pelted through her as she answered. ‘Oh, yes. I
definitely
got everything sorted with him.’

‘He’s changed his plans, then? He’s coming to the civil partnership?’

Oh, bloody hell, the civil partnership.

An unsettling wave of trepidation turned her stomach over. The biggest Burney family get-together in years and she no longer had a date. Could her crushed and battered ego survive a whole weekend of jibes from her mother about the race for grandchildren being hampered by her inability to keep a man?

‘Not exactly,’ she said.

‘How do you mean?’

There was a sharp over-interested edge to his voice that she recognised from the many work dinners she’d accompanied him to. This was how he sounded when he was on the brink of nailing a new client—as if nothing could distract him from his goal.
Five missed calls and now he was hanging on her every word.

Oh, hell.

She leaned forward over the desk in exasperation and pressed her hot forehead against its cold wooden surface.

‘Alistair and I are off,’ she blurted out. ‘He’s a total
arse.
He wouldn’t even talk about making it to the wedding.’

‘You broke up because he won’t come to your brother’s wedding?’

‘Pretty much, yes,’ she said.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth—that Alistair had only treated her like a princess because he’d wanted a live-in lawyer. Her cheeks burned just at the thought of it.

‘I couldn’t let Adam down and he just couldn’t see that. It made me realise that work will always come first for him.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’

Was there a twist of cool I-told-you-so about his voice? She pulled her head from the desk and narrowed her eyes, trying to decide. He was probably glad it was all off. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d wanted? For things to get back to normal? Then again, at least he wasn’t saying it out loud.

She tightened her grip on the phone.

Wallowing in self-pity was one thing, but it didn’t change the fact that in a week’s time she had to keep her parents in check while surrounded by Ernie’s family. Knowing Adam, it would be the most stuffed-with-people event of the year. She’d become so used to relying on Dan at family get-togethers that the prospect of coping with that by herself filled her with dread.

With her dreams in tatters there was a warm tug of temptation just to scuttle back to the way things had been. And wasn’t that exactly what Dan had been angling for all along? Why not resurrect the old plus-one agreement? That nice, safe social buffer that had stood between her and humiliation until she’d stupidly given it up. Her reason for ending it was on its way back to the States right now. She’d dipped a toe in the murky waters of proper dating and it had turned into a train wreck.

She thought it through quickly. Dan was brilliant with her mother, never remotely fazed and the epitome of calm. Exactly what she needed to get her through that scary event. And maybe then she could begin to look forward, put Alistair behind her, make a fresh start.

‘Actually, about the wedding...’ she said.

* * *

‘You want to reinstate the plus-one agreement?’ He might as well give it its proper ludicrous name.

‘Yes. I know it’s a bit of a turnaround.’

Just a bit.

He couldn’t quite believe his ears. So
now
she wanted him to step back in as her handy fake boyfriend, as if the last couple of weeks had never happened? What about her insane plan to dump him in public? And she hadn’t done him the one-off favour of going with him to his Mayfair charity ball—oh, no. He’d had to spend the evening peeling Eloise off him. But
now
she needed
him
things were different.

And he wasn’t about to make it easy for her.

‘I thought having each other as a social backup was
holding us back?
’ he said. ‘Your words.’

A pause on the end of the phone, during which a hint of triumph coursed through him as he reclaimed the upper hand. He was back in control. How they proceeded from here would be
his
decision, not hers.

‘I may have been a bit hasty.’

He didn’t answer.

‘Please, Dan. Ernie has a massive family and his father’s a High Court Judge. Our family is me and my parents plus a few distant relatives that my mother’s alienated over the years. I’ve promised Adam I’ll keep my mum in check, and the thought of doing it on my own fills me with horror.
Please.
You’re so good with them.’

She paused again, and when he didn’t immediately leap in to agree, deployed the big guns of guilt.

‘I thought this was what you wanted—everything back the way it was? I know I screwed up, and I’m sorry. But how many times have I helped
you
out at the last minute? What about that race meet where you landed your biggest client? You called me two hours before and I stepped in. Won’t you even consider doing this one tiny event for me?’

He hesitated. She had a point about the race meet.

‘Please, Dan. I want to make sure everything runs smoothly for Adam. You know how hard it is to please my mother.’

She’d lowered her voice now and a pang of sympathy twisted in his gut because he
did
know.

He could tell from her defeated tone that she thought he was going to refuse. This was his opportunity to bring things right back to where he wanted them. Their agreement had paid dividends—there was no denying that—but he’d let it run on far too long. He’d become complacent and let her become too important to drop easily. He couldn’t have someone like that in his life, even if it
was
supposed to be under the heading of ‘work’. She wanted a fake boyfriend for the wedding? He’d be the best fake boyfriend in the world. For old times’ sake. And then he’d dump their agreement without looking back for a second.

‘OK,’ he said.

Emma took a deep breath as sweet relief flooded her. It had absolutely nothing to do with the prospect of Dan’s company of course. She was way past that. It was just the thought of having an ally in what was bound to be a social minefield.

‘Really?’ she said. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d agree after I said no to your charity thing. Thank you
so
much. And you know I’m happy to step in next time you need someone—’

‘Please let me finish,’ he cut in. ‘I’ll do it. But this is the last time. I’ll stand in for you in acknowledgement of all the times you’ve stepped in for me at the last minute. But when we head back to London after the wedding, that’s it. Our agreement is over. I’ll manage my own socialising going forward, and you can carry on as before.’

Emma took a sharp breath, because for some reason that hurt in a way that the Alistair debacle hadn’t. He didn’t sound inclined even to retain a friendship between them. They would revert to being Mr Morgan and Ms Burney, businessman and lawyer, nothing more. Had she really meant so little to him?

It was a stupid, stupid pang of disappointment because she’d already
dealt
with the idea that nothing would ever happen between her and Dan. Her ridiculous crush on him was a thing of the past. She’d been planning to travel the world with Alistair, for Pete’s sake, never looking back.

It had somehow been much easier to deal with when
she’d
been the one making that choice.

* * *

Emma glanced around the lobby of the Cotswolds hotel that Adam and Ernie had chosen as their wedding venue, surprised at the stunning old-world charm of the place. Huge vases of spring flowers softened the dark wood panelling of the walls. Beautifully upholstered chairs and sofas stood in cosy groupings around the fireplace, which was taller than she was.

She would have expected Adam to want to make his vows somewhere screamingly modern in the midst of the buzz of London. Apparently Ernie’s family were a lot more old-school than that. They’d lived here in this honey-coloured stone village for generations. She felt a stab of envy at the give and take in her brother’s relationship. It seemed
Adam
didn’t have a problem putting his partner’s family first.

On the other hand it might have been less nerve-racking if the wedding
was
taking place on home ground. Here they would be surrounded by Ernie’s nearest and dearest, all eagerly awaiting the impression the Burney family would make. Her stomach gave a churn of unease at the thought.

‘What name is it?’

The blonde receptionist ran a manicured fingernail down her computer screen.

‘Burney,’ Emma said. ‘I’m part of the Burney-Harford wedding party.’

Adam had made a block reservation.

Dan strode through the door, fresh from parking the car. He rested one hand on the desk and ran the other through his dark hair, spiking it more than ever. His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled his gorgeous lopsided smile—the one that had melted half the female hearts in London.

The manicured fingernail came to an instant standstill and the receptionist’s jaw practically fell open as she gazed at him.

‘Mr and Mrs Burney?’ she asked.

Emma sighed.

‘No, that would be my parents.’ Mercifully they weren’t here yet. ‘It will be under Miss.’

The girl handed over keys—proper old-fashioned ones—and a wad of check-in paperwork.

Emma gave Dan an expectant look.

He smiled at her.

‘Great venue.’

‘What about you?’ she said.

‘What
about
me?’

‘Your booking,’ she whispered.

In her peripheral vision she picked up the interested change in the receptionist’s posture. She’d seen it a hundred times before. She took in her appearance. Blonde hair—
check.
Sleekly made-up face—
check.
Eager smile—
check.
She knew exactly what would come next.

She waited for Dan to confirm loudly that he had a separate booking—ergo, he was free and single, and in possession of a hotel room and a shedload of charm. Instead he held her own gaze steadily, as if his radar no longer picked up pretty blondes. Not a hint of a flirt or smoulder. Not so much as a glance in the girl’s direction.

‘Didn’t make one,’ he said cheerfully.

Emma stared at him incredulously for a moment, before realising that the receptionist was watching them with an interest that was way beyond polite. She walked away into the corner and when he didn’t immediately follow gave him an impatient come-on beckoning gesture. He sauntered over. The receptionist made a poor attempt not to watch the laconic grace of his movements.

‘What do you mean, you didn’t make a booking? You had your invitation—where did you think you were going to sleep? On the lawn?’

He shrugged. ‘I never got round to booking a room and then, when you asked me to step in as your date, I didn’t need to. I’ll be staying in your room, won’t I?’ He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. ‘All part of the façade, right?’