Unbind (37 page)

I kept her gaze but my mouth froze. How could I disagree with the woman, even though I knew Cai hated that place? He’d told me lots of times it held such bad memories.

“I dunno,” I began sheepishly, biting my thumb. I felt awkward. “Cai was hoping we’d hole up here. You know? Our first one and all?”

She maintained that bright expression. “Hmm, I know he will be reluctant but we really could do with going to check up on things… the running of them, I mean. It’d be nice if you put a word in, persuade him perhaps. After all, wouldn’t it be nice to see where he grew up?”

Jennifer wore a smile I wasn’t at one with, in fact I was at odds with it. It didn’t suit her to smile. There was something wrong about it, like when Cruella de Vil smiles… or Miss Trunchball, or Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka. Just something not right.

“I’ll give it a shot for you. I’d like to get away, actually. Put my feet up in front of a roaring fire.” I lied, straight through my teeth. Who’d want to spend Christmas with the boss, eh? Also, the woman who’d controlled his life—I still suspected.

“Let me know as soon as he gets back from Miami, won’t you?” Her voice was urgent and authoritative, clear and meaningful.

“I will ask him as soon as he gets back.”

“Oh and I meant it… keeping that place alive is important, regardless of the memories there. It’s his responsibility to ensure the running. It’s a legacy, an important one. Remember to tell him that.”

Why couldn’t she just tell him herself?

“I get it. I really will do my best.”

“That’s all, then, for now. Oh, hang on…” she looked away a brief moment, speaking to someone on the other side of her desk. Nobody got to go inside her office except her most senior PA but I was getting a pretty good view from where I sat the other side of that video call. Behind a glass division, I think she had a gym in there, maybe even a whirlpool bath sunk into the floor if my eyes weren’t deceiving me.

Whispers passed between Jennifer and company, and then she was back to me. Seeing my face, she muttered, “Chloe I’m at home. Swipe that off your face. I’m at home, dear. Don’t put ideas in Carl’s head… you didn’t see this!” She grinned creepily again and continued, “Anyway, I hear you’re doing very well. Good to know I didn’t make a hash of favouritism, hmm?”

“Oh, thanks, I guess!” I giggled. “What can I say? I love words and I love clothes.”

“Magnificent. Ta-ta for now!”

Conversation over. Phew.

CHRISTMAS Eve. I was wrapping up for the day but had one, last task to tick off the list—a catch-up with Carl before the year and my first quarter with the company was out. Cai was due to pick me up at three p.m. and drive us straight up to Connecticut. Jennifer was already there and had been for the past three days, preparing everything. She only trusted her minions at
Frame
enough to leave them in charge occasionally, and this was one of those rare occasions.

“He’s ready for you, hon,” Tiff’s soothing voice travelled over other heads, across divides and cubicles, to alert me. I lifted my head slightly and nodded my thanks.

Champagne and caviar had been delivered as a treat from the boss herself—and everyone was full of it. Girls and boys flew around, laughing and careering down the halls. I had to circumnavigate a ton of garish decorations hanging from the ceilings and hug at least three people as I made my way to Carl’s office which was at the very opposite side of our section. One might have described the people as off their tits if we were back in England. Happily, I arrived at his fully see-through door with little to no harm having come to me, despite the towering men and women charging around in either their Jimmy Choos or Louboutins. Carl immediately saw me at the door and waved me straight in.

He had a kind of wicked glint in his eye. Was it the bubbles? Or just seasonal horniness?

“What?” I demanded in a terse tone, closing the door behind me. He had a crazed look in his eye.

“Rumour has it you’re spending Christmas with Her Madge?” He choked on breath, and then erupted into hysteric laughter. So he knew that was what I privately referred to her as.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? How much have you had, Carl?”

You should have seen him… wearing charcoal pants with a red v-neck sweater. He was devastating. Yet I just couldn’t see the appeal…

He clutched at his throat. “My god, you still don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Bile rose in my throat. What was there to know? I certainly didn’t like being left out of something and sounded almost desperate when I asked in a small, hurt voice, “Tell me.”

He zipped his trap shut and shot me his big, puppy dog eyes. A soft gaze fell over his face and he explained, “She is a total and utter enigma… and you’re getting to spend Christmas… with her? We bet on whether you’ll come back in the new year… whether any of the rumours about that place up there are true.”

I decided to be straight with him. “There
is
something unnerving about her but she doesn’t scare me. I’ll be on my guard but Cai is the only thing I care about.”

“That’s sweet, honey. However, there’s a reason why she and Cai perpetuated all those gay rumours for so long… and there’s a reason why she’s keeping you locked in her dungeon, so to speak.”

Since I’d been in New York, the gay rumours had stopped. However, maybe it had something to do with the fact I was with him so often, the gay thing had certainly become questionable. I stared at Carl, waiting for clarity.

“I guess she never expected you to turn out so well. You have this, I don’t know, way of writing. So as of the new year, you’ll be taken off the online stuff and transferred to features. Real
Frame
, if you excuse the ring to that. Researchers already have a bag of stuff for you to wade through… you just have to decide what makes you tick, what holds interest with you.”

I glared, in disbelief. “I can write what I like? Like, a proper column?”
Not a glorified one in the form of a blog.

“Within reason. It’ll get vetoed, of course. However, we trust you. You’re up with it. You have a finger on the pulse. You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.”

I stood to shake his hand. “You know I won’t let you down.”

“I know. Piece of advice… don’t go grovelling to
her
with thanks. Just enjoy the time off.”

I tipped my head back and forth in long motions, somehow feeling it was all still a dream—I needed to shake myself awake. Carl snickered under his breath and grinned, pleased with himself for rendering me speechless. I mouthed
features
and he nodded. Plain and simple.

I remembered something he had tried to derail me from. “Why
did
they perpetuate those gay rumours?”

He crossed his hands in front of him, his plucked eyebrows meeting in the middle as he frowned. “I thought you knew? It’s simple… she doesn’t want him to be with anyone who might undo her mystery. Which is why I am shocked you are spending Christmas with both of them.”

The journey back to my desk a blur, I began robotically clearing everything away into my bag or in drawers, locking them after I was done. I started laughing to myself… and guess what? I didn’t leave the building until after I called Kay!

MUCH LATER THAT day, after battling traffic and an oncoming snow storm, we arrived in Litchfield tired yet relieved to finally be in for the holidays.

A large, Georgian house lifted right out of Old England loomed as we chugged down the tree-lined drive. Though its vastness was somewhat eclipsed by the weather, I was aware of history and heritage as we travelled along in silence. Cai’s money slapped me in the face at the sight of it.
the tree-lined drive tness was eclipsed by the  clothes for the eveningown, we arrived. d women charging arou
The three-storey house was constructed from bloody granite, from the looks. It was amazing how lush the grounds looked, even in winter. It also seemed odd to me that Jennifer had taken care of arrangements, when it was Cai who owned the place.

The car full of presents and foodstuffs, it was such a relief to have our luggage taken by servants (shock, horror—I know!). Jennifer greeted us in the airy, high-ceilinged hall before we strode up a large marble staircase. We headed through cherry wood-panelled corridors before winding our way to his bedroom and finding our wares already delivered and left at the foot of the bed, near a Chinese ottoman that lived right there next to the footboard. I quickly hung my delicate dresses and Cai’s blazers, shirts and slacks, before I caught up with him in the luxurious, glittering white en suite. We had a quickie in the shower and dressed in clean, warm clothes for the evening’s festivities.

Cai looked gorgeous in a thick, black sweater with toggles holding the roll-down neck, matched with his usual dark jeans and pointed-toe shoes. He told me it was pretty informal that night so I threw on a jumper dress with a patent black belt, some frilly lace crochet edging the sweetheart neckline and sleeves. I felt like Santa’s little helper with my red tights and black knee-high boots matching the dress. Cai and I joked on it in the bedroom, me being his little elf and him being a very greedy, lusty Santa. We almost got ourselves so wrapped up that we nearly had another round of sex on the bed. I gently rebuffed him with the deterring promise of wine, cheese and ham, which we’d smelt cooking on our way in earlier. Both of us were starving, plus I didn’t want to piss Jennifer off with a late arrival.

He held my hand and I followed his lead as we wove through long corridors decorated with pieces that were carefully put together, nothing out of place. Not too many paintings, vases or filigrees, just an elegant scattering of wealth and class. I relished the feel of the original, exposed wood flooring under foot, my low-heeled boots clicking in unison with Cai’s masculine footwear.

Almost every door downstairs was shut but like finding a rare, open inn on a dangerous, unwelcome night, we reached an invitation from one open door—coupled with happy voices, sumptuous scents and light.

If I’d grown to know anything about Jennifer it was that she wasn’t the showy type, not one bit. The person people believed her to be wasn’t the real woman. She turned up for work a mystery, a perfect specimen of taste and breeding, yet inside that house that night, she was just a lady of the house sat at the head of a table. Four small dogs panted and yapped at her feet—the small, indistinguishable variety. She wore a thick, cream jumper with a large neck swathing her chest and shoulders like a boot sleeve you might see in a children’s story. As we walked toward the table, I detected jodhpurs and boots similar to mine. Riding boots were all the rage and why not? Elegant, robust and damn comfortable. For once I agreed with a trend. I noticed a sly smile flutter over her mouth when she spotted our matching footwear. Pity she then saw my belt and frowned. Jennifer thought belts merely failed to mask shoddy tailoring.

“Sit, sit,” she demanded, slouching in the chair, her legs crossed beneath the table. So relaxed, not a bit the woman who stopped traffic in large hallways in one of the most famous buildings and magazine houses in the entire world.

Cai and I sat at her sides, so she was at the head, and we, opposite one another. It was the way the place settings had been arranged. The thick wood of the table, possibly centuries old, was rosewood, maybe. It looked and felt, rare. The table could most probably sit at least 20, if not more, if it was one of those unfolding things. A terrific glass chandelier that was simple with large bulbs hung overheard, lighting the darkness of the wooden chamber. Wood was everywhere, literally. Walls. Floors. Furniture. Only the deep ceiling cornicing, in a light mustard, offset the dark dining room which might have concealed mysteries or dinnerware in hidden cupboards, for all I knew.

“Good trip up?” Jennifer looked at Cai, her hand absentmindedly reaching down to pet one of her toy dogs.

“If we’d waited ten more minutes, I don’t think we’d have made it.”

I nodded in agreement and accepted wine from a waiter. Or was he a butler? He was certainly as stiff as his starched bib and tucker looked.

This place was singular. I knew it was open for weddings and occasions, but I thought Jennifer might have sent the help home for the season. She obviously did have a little bit of a sharp edge, after all.