Commitment Issues by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elliot
“Your meeting with Saltman and Co. has been put back to next Wednesday. I’ve rearranged lunch with Julia Merrow from Indigo for tomorrow, at 1.00pm — I’ve reserved a table at Dante’s — and I’ve booked in Jasper’s Healthy Hound appointment with the vet for Monday. Mr Hendricks?”
“What? Sorry, Perry, what was that?”
I blink at my assistant, his big brown, earnest eyes looking at me from behind his glasses. He’s twenty-five, looks fifteen, and runs my personal office and Jasper’s schedule with ruthless efficiency.
“Your schedule. Or those things you need to be aware of.” He blinks, reminding me of an owl.
“Erm, yes of course.” I tug on my cuffs in an attempt to drag myself back into the here and now. Which is certainly where I haven’t been all morning. I arrived at usual at 6.00am, but I’ve whittled my time away, unable to concentrate on anything much, just as I haven’t been able to since getting back from France a couple of weeks ago.
A few minutes later Perry leaves, closing the door to my office, and I slump back in my seat, rubbing at my sore and tired eyes. I haven’t slept well since I’ve been back. I fall into bed exhausted but as soon as my head hits the pillow, my brain switches on, a neon never-ending loop of Freddie and the time we shared, before it got screwed up and awkward.
And it was me who’d screwed up. What happened was down to me, and it should’ve been down to me to have stopped it. I rub at the space between my brows, the headache that’s been an almost constant since coming home, kicking up a gear. The morning after the night before, everything so stiff and awkward between us, and my words stupid and clumsy and making everything so much worse.
“Oh, Freddie,” I whisper. I miss him, that’s the honest truth. My fingers have itched to pick up the phone, to shoot off a text… a coffee, a drink, meet as friends… but I don’t do it because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the gentle rejection, and I know it would be gentle because he’s a thoughtful and considerate boy.
Boy.
Isn’t that the problem, at the heart of it? He’s not a kid, but he’s a young man, a much younger man. He needs to be forming relationships with those of his own age, not with a man old enough to be his father, probably the same age as his father. It was one thing to play act for the wedding, but we’re back in the real world now.
My stomach turns over, and I scramble for one of the indigestion tablets I seem to have been gorging on in the last few days. Freddie’s gone from my life, and it’s best for us both. I rub my brow harder, the pain a red-hot poker, as I open up my laptop to concentrate on the one thing I know I’m good at and won’t fuck up.
Making money.
* * *
The sudden raucous laughter from the other side of my door spears through my concentration. I glance at the clock in the corner of my screen, my eyes opening wider as I see the time. Despite my roiling stomach and throbbing headache, I’ve been immersed in my work for over three hours solid.
A knock on the door, and Perry appears.
“Mr Hendricks, I’ve got—”
“I know exactly who’s come in to disrupt the working day.”
Perry’s smile is unsure as though he can’t decide if I’m annoyed or not. “It’s fine, honestly,” I say with what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Let him in.”
“Really, Elliot, is that a way to treat your oldest and dearest friend? That really isn’t very nice of him, is it Perry?” James smiles at my assistant, like a fox ready to pounce.
“Well, erm, I…” Perry’s face turns an alarming shade of red, as his head snaps between James and me, and back again.
“Thank you, Perry, that will be all.”
“All? Will it really?” James says, all but throwing himself in the chair opposite my desk. “I was rather hoping for some refreshments.” He pouts, managing to look very put out.
“I can make—”
“Thank you, Perry, but my unscheduled guest won’t be staying long. Will he?” I glare at James, who just throws me a kiss in reply.
Perry does the wise thing, and flees.
“Please don’t hit on my assistant.” I might as well ask for the tide not to ebb and flow.
“He’s so cute, and such fun to fluster. Why haven’t you responded to my calls?” James asks, switching tack suddenly.
“Which calls?” I lean back in my chair, affecting a nonchalance I’m not feeling.
“So many of them. I’d have hunted you down sooner, but I’ve been away on business. I first called whilst you and the deliciously delectable Freddie—”
“Don’t call him that,” I growl.
James answers with a barely raised eyebrow and a glint of knowledge in his green eyes.
“I wanted to make sure Gavin wasn’t being a twat for which, it must be said, he has an unrivalled talent. But most of all, I wanted to check you were all right,” he adds, his voice softer. “And to see how things were going with Freddie, of course.”
“For one moment, I really did think you weren’t digging.”
“And is there anything to dig for? Given your somewhat rough, gruff and terribly manly reaction…” A smile tugs at his lips and his eyes sparkle with good humoured amusement. As much as I want to be sharp with him, he almost always makes it impossible. He’s already guessed there’s something to dig for.
“It went well. He played the part beautifully.” I make my voice as bland as I can, but the words are glass shards in my mouth.
“That’s very guarded. It’s not like you to be mealy mouthed.” I don’t answer, only lock eyes with him over the no man’s land of my desk. “Ah, I see.” His eyes narrow.
“I doubt it very much.”
“Oh, but I do. You slept with him.” He’s as smug as the cat who’s not just got the cream, but the whole bloody dairy.
I sigh. “Yes, all right, let’s get this over with. We slept together. Once. And it really shouldn’t have happened.”
“Why?”
“Why? What do you mean, why? Let me list the reasons.” I count them off on my fingers. “One, he’s far too young. Two, sex was never meant to be part of the deal. Three, I’m not looking for any kind of — entanglement, I suppose.”
“Then let me counter your reasons. One, he’s twenty-four, which makes him a fully functioning adult. Two, you were in the sunny South of France, with love in the air, so of course sex was always going to rear its head. Three, engaging in some no strings fun whether it’s once, twice or twenty times isn’t an entanglement.”
James has countered my reasons, every single one of them. I scrape my fingers through my hair. He makes it all sound so simple when all my thoughts and feelings about Freddie are anything but.
“Look, I enjoyed Freddie’s company. I liked him, just as you knew I would. And yes, I’m glad he agreed to accompany me. But that’s as far as it goes. As for what happened… Well, it won’t happen again. For the reasons I’ve stated—don’t roll your eyes at me.”
James answers with a snort.
“When we got back, that was it. He went his way, and I went mine. Please don’t try and play matchmaker, in any shape or form. I feel like I’m just getting back on my feet, and seeing Gavin again—”
“Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about the fucker? I won’t allow it, I really won’t.” He jerks up, ramrod straight, scowling and looking fierce.
“Give me some credit. No, I’m not considering getting back with him.”
James peers at me.
“Are you sure?”
“For goodness sake, of course I am. We’re history.” I keep my gaze locked to James’, like we’re in a staring match and I’m determined not to blink first.
“Just make sure he realises that,” James says, his voice quiet, his words measured. “He’s always persuaded you before—”
“Because I wanted to be persuaded. But not now, not anymore. Gavin and I are over. Any lingering thoughts I might have had about the two of us have been ground into the mud.”
“Yes? And why’s that, do you think?”
“James—”
“Hmm?” he purrs.
“Leave it, okay?”
He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, scrutinising me just for an instant before an evil smile breaks out over his face. And thank God for that, as it means we’re back on known territory.
“Good, because I really wouldn’t want to break your legs if you ever did anything so stupid. I’m very glad to hear you’re not giving Gavin another thought.”
“No, I’m not.” And why would I, when all my thoughts are elsewhere?
