Never Fall for Your Back-Up Guy by Kate O’Keeffe

Chapter 18

Dear Dad

I hardly know how to write this. Scarlett is gone. As in gone and never coming back. She’s gone to the competition that’s been strangling our business now for months, and she’s taking her clients with her. I feel like a failure.

What am I going to do?

Miss you. Love you.

Your Za-Za xoxo

I spendthe rest of the day in utter shock. Sure, I deal with customers, I order stock, I even arrange to meet a potential new client next week. But the whole time I grapple with questions.

How could Scarlett do this?

How could she just up and leave?

Didn’t she owe me at least a scrap of loyalty?

And, most importantly of all, what the heck am I going to do now?

At closing time, with a heart as heavy as a dumbbell, I lock up the empty shop early and Stevie and I begin our daily trudge back to my flat. But, as though on an autopilot that has other ideas, I find myself not in Fulham, but in Covent Garden on the street where Asher’s legal offices are.

Okay, there might have been a little forethought that went into my decision to come here rather than go home, but I’m not going to unpick that.

I’m here, and Asher’s the only person I want to see right now.

I stand on the footpath and stare up at his building’s tall, classical architecture with its plaster columns, and large windows. I scoop Stevie up and put her in my oversized handbag. “Be a good girl and stay nice and quiet so we can get into Uncle Asher’s office without anyone seeing you, okay? I’m not sure they’re as dog-friendly as they ought to be here,”

She gazes up at me as though I’ve just told her something in Swahili, but she stays quiet enough as I check in at security and take the old, caged lift to the fifth floor.

I scan a new glass sign at the door as I walk through into the reception area. Grover, Thompson, and McMillan. Asher was promoted to partner not that long ago and I bet he loves seeing his name on that sign each day.

I approach the reception desk where a girl of about twenty, with her hair tied up in a top knot so tight, it looks like it’s holding her whole face in place, looks up at me and says, “How may I help you this afternoon?” in a syrupy voice.

“I’d like to see Asher McMillan. I’m Zara Huntington-Ross.” Stevie squirms in my handbag, and I press my arm against it. I shoot the receptionist a smile as though I’m not currently smuggling a puppy into the office.

She flicks her eyes to my handbag. “Is Mr. McMillan expecting you?” she asks, but my attention is diverted by Asher striding into the room.

The sight of him has my belly doing a flip.

“I’ll take it from here. Thanks, Lola,” he says.

“Hi,” I murmur, the pent-up emotion I’ve been keeping at bay threatening to breech its walls and come pouring out.

His face creases in concern. “Come with me,” he says, and he whisks me from reception, through some opaque-glass double doors, and down the hall to his office. Closing the door behind us, he turns and says, “What’s wrong?”

I’d like to say I put on a brave face. That I hold it together to tell him what Scarlett has done and ask him for his sage advice.

I don’t. Far from it, in fact. In two seconds flat, I burst into loud, ugly, heaving sobs, my whole body wracked with misery.

In two short steps, Asher is across the room and collecting me in his arms. He pulls me close and I bury my face in his warm, firm chest, breathing in his reassuring Asher scent, comforted by his strong arms wrapped around me. I feel comforted, protected, safe.

“Zee, what’s going on?” he asks softly into my hair.

Once I can trust myself to speak, I pull back and lift my eyes to his, my arms still held around his waist. “Sorry,” I murmur.

“Do you want a Kleenex? Because…ew.” He pulls a face.

I let out a choking laugh. “Yes, please.”

He moves over to his windowsill and takes a couple of tissues from a box. Stevie makes her presence known by squirming around in my handbag, so I pop her on the floor and she immediately begins to run around the room to investigate this new, exciting place.

“Hey, there,” Asher says to her as he manages to pat her little body before she darts away. “Best we don’t tell anyone you’re here, Stevie.” Returning to my side, he hands the tissues to me and I wipe my eyes and blow my nose noisily.

“Sorry to bring her here.”

“It’s fine.”

My eyes drop to his light blue shirt where a wet patch with mascara stains has spread. “I wrecked your shirt. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a back-up.” He nods at an open wardrobe against the wall that’s lined with about ten shirts.

“A back-up girl and a bunch of back-up shirts.” I attempt a smile.

“What’s going on, Zee?” he asks me with a tender voice that has fresh tears threatening my eyes once more.

“Scarlett.”

His features harden. “What has she done?”

“She’s left. She’s gone to the competition, and she’s taking her clients with her.”

His jaw locks. “She’s done what?” he grinds out.

“I caught her at Karina today and we followed her, and Muscles Mavis apprehended her without me asking her to do that, but it was good that she did because I ended up confronting her, and in the end, she came clean about it all.”

He cocks a brow. “Muscles Mavis?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m so sorry, Zee. Truly, I am. You deserve so much more than this.”

I sniff. “Thanks.”

“I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Scarlett has always been interested in number one. It was obvious to me from the get go. I’ve never really liked her.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything about it. She was your business partner so I figured it was your choice, not mine. I’m just sorry she’s done this to you.”

I push out a breath and slump my shoulders. “I’m so stupid, Ash. Really, really stupid.”

“No, you’re not at all. Sure, you trusted someone who didn’t deserve your trust, but you’re far from stupid.”

I shake my head, my lips taut as my self-pity swells to the size of an elephant. “Nope, I am stupid. I’m stupid with a capital ‘S.’ You know what I am? I’m a girl whose business is failing and who can’t even hold on to her business partner. What’s more, I’m a girl who’s so desperate to find love, she’s got a back-up guy. A girl who writes emails every day to her dead dad.” I sink down the wall until my butt hits the cold, hard ground. “I’m a mess, Asher. Not even a hot mess. Just a plain, old, everyday stupid mess.”

“I think you’re a hot mess.”

I look up at him and scoff-laugh. “That’s not the compliment you think it is, you know.”

He leans against the wall and slides down it until we’re sitting together, side by side on the carpeted floor. “You write to your dad?”

I nod, no longer trusting myself to speak. It’s hard to think of Dad and not feel a great gaping hole in my heart. Writing to him has been a way to fill that hole. Now that I’ve told someone for the first time, I feel ridiculous, like a pre-pubescent girl who can’t accept that her much-loved dad is gone and never coming back home.

Asher places his hand gently on my arm. “I think it’s a really beautiful thing that you write your dad, Zee.”

Tears prick my eyes once more. “He doesn’t reply a whole lot. Or at all, actually.” I try out a smile. “He’s not the best communicator.”

“You can’t blame the guy, wifey.” He nudges me with his elbow, and my smile begins to slowly claim the real estate of my face. “But you know what? I bet you a million bucks he’s looking down on his girl, totally proud of who you are and what you’ve achieved.”

My throat heats up. “I don’t know. What have I got to show for it all? I mean, I used to think it wasn’t such a big deal that I hadn’t found Mr. Right because I had my career. Now that’s falling around my ears, too. I’ve got nothing, Asher. A great big fat old nothing.”

“You want to know what I think?

“What?”

“I think you’re way better off without Scarlett.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. And you’ll pick yourself up and start over. I have faith in you, just like you know your dad would have faith in you, too.”

The heat in my throat begins to burn. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, and I’m so sorry. It’s got to be so hard to lose your father.”

“It’s no West End musical, that’s for certain.”

“I wish I’d known him.”

“I wish you had, too. He was a great dad. I mean, he lost all my family’s money gambling of course, but I know he was only trying to help us. Running a house like Martinston costs a massive amount each year. He was only trying to protect us all, I’m certain of it. I only wish he’d lived long enough to know that Sebastian saved our home for generations to come.”

“I’m sure he knows.”

I lift my watery eyes to his and see the kindness behind his eyes. “I hope so.” I lean my head against the wall, comforted by Asher’s presence despite the sense of loss squeezing my heart.

“You know, I’ve got some money put aside. I’d be happy to help you out with your shop. Maybe I could invest or something?”

I sniff in an unladylike manner Granny would be appalled at. “I can’t expect you to do that. It’s going to take a lot of money and you’ve just bought your flat. You’re probably as skint as I am.”

“Skint is such a good word,” he replies with a laugh. “But I do all right. If you want my help, I’m here for you, Zee.” He pauses before he adds, “Always.”

I flick my gaze up to meet his. His eyes are burning into me with such intensity, it causes my breath to catch in my throat.

And then, just like that, without a hint of warning, the atmosphere between us shifts.

It could be the heat in his eyes. It could be the fact that he’s offering to invest in my business. Or it could be the simple fact that I’m an emotional mess, sitting side-by-side with the guy I think I might be falling in love with.

Love?

I let out a ragged breath, our gaze still locked. It’s love that I feel for this man beside me. I know it is. And as I gaze into his eyes, I know in that instant that he feels something for me, too. Something beyond friendship.

I need to know if he loves me.

With my heart hammering in my chest, my throat dries up, and I try to swallow. “Asher, I—” I what? I found your wedding photo album and now I think I’m falling in love with you? I thought I was feeling pity for you to start with, but then I realised I saw a new depth to you that I didn’t know existed and it’s got into my head and sparked love inside of me?

I can’t say any of that. It sounds insane.

“What?” he asks, his voice low and breathy, his eyes still trained on me with that intensity that makes my belly flip over again and again.

“I…Is it just me?” I bite down hard on my lip and wait for his reply, sitting on the metaphorical edge of my seat, wishing, hoping he’ll tell me he feels it, too.

He brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face with his fingertips, and the lightness of his touch against my bare skin sends a shiver through me. “Zara,” he says, and there’s such emotion in his voice, such need, that I know. I just know.

And then in an instant, we’re tangled up in one another and his lips come crashing against mine, sucking the air from my lungs with such passion, I feel as though I could explode. He runs his hands up my back and tangles his fingers in my hair as my hands grab at his strong, warm, muscular back and taste his lips for the very first time.

We’re kissing like we could devour one another, right here on Asher’s office floor.

And you know what? It feels freaking amazing.

After he’s sent me to the stars, he drags me back to Earth as he pulls away from me and presses his forehead against mine. “Oh,” he breathes against my mouth, his fingers toying with my hair, my heart beating out of my chest. He brushes his lips softly, tantalizingly against mine once more, sending a wave of electricity through me.

This man sure knows his way around a woman’s lips.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you for?” he asks.

It’s at this moment Stevie decides to crash the party, leaping up onto my lap and trying to climb up to lick our faces.

I laugh as I stroke her back. “Was it since the Padre with the impressive ’stache hit the ball into the crowd the other night?” I chance with a smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. I wanted to then, but I didn’t think you did.”

“Oh, I did.”

His face creases into a smile. “A missed opportunity?”

“Definitely.”

“But you know, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a little longer than that.”

“You have? But…you never said anything.”

“What was I gonna say? Hey, babe, I know we’re friends and all and we’re busy dating other people, but how about it?”

“You could have.”

“I never got the vibe from you. Not until the other night, and I wasn’t even sure then. I didn’t want to go risking our friendship. It means too much to me.”

“Which is why you pulled away from me after the Padres game.”

“You’re an incredible woman. A guy’s got to protect his heart, you know.”

The photograph of him with his ex-wife flashes before my eyes.

I look down and study Stevie as she rubs her face on my thigh. “My feelings for you have been sneaking up on me lately.”

He places his finger lightly under my chin, tilts my head up, and brushes another incredible kiss against my lips, making my head spin. “Well, I’m glad you got here.”

“Me too.” I smile shyly at him, and he grins back, both of us wrapped up in this new, exciting thing between us.

“I am so in love with you,” he murmurs in my ear, making my heart squeeze tightly.

I slide my fingers up his neck and into his hair. As I look deep into his eyes, I reply, “I love you, too.”

We grin at one another like a couple of love-sick teens, only we’re love-sick thirty-somethings instead, and we’ve got to where we are through a strong and enduring friendship.

“So? How long have you loved me?” I ask with an embarrassed grin, because this is Asher I’m talking to here. Asher loving me. Asher, the man I’ve been kissing on the floor of his office.

“Let me see. It might have been for about two years and a couple of months, give or take.”

“But we’ve only known one another for two years and a couple of months.”

“Exactly.”

The reality of what he’s just said sinks in. “Oh.”

“The thing is, I wasn’t in a good place when I met you. I was going through some stuff, and I needed to get my head clear before I started anything new. And I knew you were different. You weren’t some girl to just date with no strings. You were special, and I wanted strings with you. A whole ball of them. But I held back and we fell into just being buddies. I guess you totally friend-zoned me.”

“I honestly didn’t know at all. I thought we were just good friends.”

“And I decided a long time ago to be happy with that. But now?” he takes my hand in his and laces his fingers through mine. “Now things are exactly where I want them to be.”

I giggle. “By ‘things’ do you mean me?”

“I would never objectify you in that way,” he sniffs in mock seriousness and another giggle escapes my lips.

“Kiss me again,” I say, and as I slink my hands around his neck and pull him in to me, he does just that.