Eyes Wide Open (23 page)

“Well, as you said, James and I are in a committed relationship—one we’re happy with, one that works for us. We know the parameters, what goes, what doesn’t. But you… Well, you’ve become, and I apologize wholeheartedly for using this turn of phrase, a bit of a booty-call. This…arrangement has become something that happens when we’re in town, and although it’s fun and amazing and mind-blowing, it’s probably putting you in a bit of an awkward situation.”

“A little, I suppose,” she replied, her brain whirling. What was he getting at? She couldn’t make head or tail of it, so far. “But as long as we continue being discreet, I don’t have a problem with it.”

“That’s not what I meant, sweetheart. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes.”
The things we’ve done together, and he’s worried about asking a personal question?

“Are you seeing anyone? Besides us, I mean?”

“No, why?”

“Do you feel like you can? Do you want to?”

“Bloody hell, Logan, what’s with the Spanish Inquisition?”
Where the hell is the room service? I could do with being saved by the bell right about now.

James shuffled so he was right in front of her, took her mug from her and placed it on the nearby table. Taking both her hands, he shot Logan a dirty look, before returning his attention to her. “What Logan is
trying
to say, Fiona, and failing miserably, is that we feel like we’re being a bit unfair to you. This thing between us has just happened. We haven’t discussed it, haven’t put any kind of label on it, so you might be confused about it. Understandably.”

I wasn’t, but I bloody well am now.

“Basically, because we haven’t mentioned any kind of exclusivity, you might feel conflicted about seeing other people. We certainly can’t stop you, but we’d rather you didn’t.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, pulling her hands from his and shrinking back in the chair. “But I don’t see why you have the right to stop me.”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to say! Apparently I’m doing a shitty job of it, too. Fiona, listen. You asked what Logan and I are getting out of spending time with you. Aside from the wonderful additions and variety to our bedroom activities, we genuinely just enjoy being with you. We look forward to seeing you, hanging out together. And we’d really like it if you’d consider making it an exclusive and more permanent thing. We understand that your job, your career is here, so seeing each other more often isn’t really an option, unfortunately, but we’d like to carry on as we are doing now, on an exclusive basis, and see how things go. We
care
about you, Fiona, very much. You’re not a third wheel. You’re just one part of a whole. Or at least, we hope you are.”

By the time he was done speaking, Fiona was frowning so deeply she probably resembled her chain-smoking grandmother. Then, when her gray matter was done processing, she gaped at him. Turning, she gaped at Logan, who flashed her a hopeful smile. “What do you say, sweetheart? Again, sorry for the rubbish phraseology, but, be our girlfriend?”

Leaping from the chair, and knocking James to his backside in the process, she snatched up her tote bag, threw her clothes and shoes into it, and rushed for the door, gasping. Her heart raced, and her pulse thundered in her ears. “I need… I need to think. I’ve got to go, all right? Just let me go!” she added as Logan followed her.

“Well,” James said, just before she reached the door into the hotel corridor, “that certainly wasn’t the fucking reaction we were hoping for.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

On Monday morning, having gone the long way from her apartment to the PR & Marketing Suite to steer clear of the public areas of the hotel, Fiona finally arrived at her desk. She was the first to arrive—even Sophia didn’t seem to be in yet. But then she was pretty early, having lain awake since long before her alarm was due to go off.

Heaving a sigh of relief at having successfully avoided James and Logan, she put her handbag down and pressed the button to boot up her computer without even checking her phone. It was on silent, and had remained so since Saturday morning when she’d scurried out of their suite, in so much of a hurry that the fact that she’d been wearing men’s pajamas hadn’t bothered her.

There had been a couple of phone calls since—one from each of them—and a few text messages—all polite, but growing in urgency and desperation. Apparently, they hadn’t meant to freak her out and just wanted to talk. But there was no way she was ready for that. What would she even say?

How the hell was it possible to be the girlfriend of two men? As in, at the same time, with everybody knowing about it? A ménage à trois, as it were.

She’d spent the time since their bombshell alternately making her brain overheat and threaten to melt by trying to figure it out and burying her head in the sand. She’d gone for that run, after all, but had headed for St. James’s Park rather than Hyde Park, just in case they’d decided to go running too. The last thing she wanted was to bump into them, not while all the weirdness was so raw. She’d needed time and space to think—not that it had helped much.

Now, she was mighty glad to be back at work. She wouldn’t have to make a concerted effort to think about something other than James and Logan. Her job would occupy her brain for a good eight hours, at least.

Her computer having booted up, she was just about to click the icon for her emails when her desk phone rang. Jumping so violently that she banged her knees on the underside of the desk, she clutched at her chest and winced as she reached for the handset. “Hello?”

“Hello, Fiona?”

“Speaking.”

“Hi. It’s Beatrice. I know I’m calling early, but I just saw you walk past my office. I thought I’d catch you before you started work, so I’m not disrupting you too much. I hope that’s okay.”

Fiona’s heart skipped a beat.
Shit.
Beatrice was from the Human Resources Department. Her mouth suddenly dry, Fiona swallowed, forcing herself to formulate a response. “Hi, Beatrice. What can I do for you?”

“Could you pop in and see me, please? No need to worry about letting Sophia know where you are. She already knows I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, of course. Be with you in a couple of minutes.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.” Fiona’s stomach lurched as she put the phone down, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, fearing she was going to be sick. Closing her eyes, she took a handful of deep breaths, willing the panic and nausea to subside. What the hell was going on? Had she not been discreet enough, sneaking to and from James and Logan’s various rooms and in and out of the staff entrance? Had someone seen her? One of the security staff, perhaps? They were trained to be as unobtrusive as possible. Maybe there’d been one right there as she had entered their room and she hadn’t noticed.
Fuck!
She thought she’d been careful—more than careful, in fact. Bordering on obsessed. She hadn’t breathed a word to a single soul about James and Logan, hadn’t said anything to even hint that she was seeing anyone…

But had someone put two and two together? Noticed that she’d missed out on a couple of Friday night get-togethers and not been seen anywhere the following morning? Then there were the flowers… Sophia had tried to dig for information, and gotten nowhere, and Lisa from Reception had delivered them in the first place. The only reason she hadn’t fired off a load of questions was because Sophia had interrupted. Christ, she was really in the shit if a Sherlock Holmes wannabe had been keeping an eye on her.

Standing, she figured she’d better get a move on and get to Beatrice’s office. The sooner she went, the sooner this would all be over with. Maybe she could even get back and clear her desk before anyone else arrived, saving her the indignity of having to do it with everyone staring, wondering why she’d been given the boot, but being too polite or scared to ask.

Grabbing her bag and a notebook and pen, more out of habit than actually thinking she’d need them—even her creative writing skills wouldn’t get her out of this—she left the department and headed for Human Resources.

The front office there was quiet too, and Fiona passed the empty desks as she crossed to the glass office in the corner. Beatrice, spotting her, stood up and opened the door ready for her. “Morning, Fiona. Thanks for coming so quickly. Please, come on in.”

Shooting Beatrice a nervous look, she gave a small smile. She didn’t seem pissed off, or even the least bit stressed, like she was about to fire someone. But then, she was a professional—she was probably trained not to have feelings about these sorts of things. It was part of her job to conduct uncomfortable meetings about verbal warnings, written warnings, final dismissals and the like. Giving the new girl the boot was no skin off her nose.

“Morning, Beatrice. Thanks.” She took the seat that was indicated, placing her bag by her feet, and the notebook and pen on the desk in front of her.

“Would you like a drink?” Beatrice asked. “I probably interrupted you before you even got the chance to make yourself a coffee. I’m sorry.”

“N-no, it’s okay, thanks. I’m fine.”
Not unless you’ve got a bottle of vodka stashed in your desk. That’d do nicely right about now.

A tiny line appeared between Beatrice’s eyebrows. “Hey, don’t look so nervous. I don’t bite, you know.”

“I…um…” She took a deep breath and made herself look Beatrice in the eye.
Come on, let’s get this over with.
“What was it you wanted to see me about?”

The frown remained in place as Beatrice grabbed a folder that had been sitting on the desk, just off to one side, and placed it directly in front of her. “I’ve been talking with Sophia about you lately, Fiona…”

Great. Everybody knows!
She gripped the pen so hard her fingers began to ache.

“About how well you’ve been doing here, how you’ve learned so much, progressed. In fact, you’ve taken to this role like a duck to water. The campaigns you’ve assisted with and managed have been outstanding. Even the bigwigs have commented. You’re quite the rising star, I’m told.”

The woman smiled, but Fiona just stared at her. What the hell was she saying? And why was she saying it? Why build someone up, then tear them down? God, she never knew HR folk could be so bloody cruel.

“Honey,” Beatrice’s voice, firmer now, cut into Fiona’s thoughts. “Learn to take a compliment, would you? This is a
good
thing.”

“A g-good thing?”

The frown was back. “Are you sure you don’t want something caffeinated? It is early on a Monday morning, after all, and you don’t seem quite with it yet. I just thought I’d take advantage of you being in the office sooner than planned. I’m a morning person, myself.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” She gave herself a mental kick up the arse. Clearly, this meeting was not about what she thought it was. Unless Beatrice was the best actress in the world, her body language and the vibes she was giving off were positive ones. “Sorry, I’m just not quite sure what this meeting is about. I’m not used to being unprepared.”

“So I’ve heard.” Smiling again, Beatrice continued, “I’ll stop beating around the bush. Basically, what I’m saying, honey, is that an opportunity has come up. Right from your interview you showed promise and an interest in climbing the career ladder. You’ve impressed everyone you’ve worked with so far, so when this opportunity came up, you were one of the obvious candidates.”

Pausing, she took a sip of the water she had by her right hand, then put it back down and focused on the paperwork in front of her. “Some funding has become available for staff training. The various management teams have been putting their cases forward for a few weeks to sort out what funds were assigned where, and now it’s all been settled, things are being arranged. There’s money in place for you to take some exams—gain some formal PR qualifications. You’d have to start at the bottom, unfortunately, but you’ll whizz through the initial course and the exam, then you can move on to the next stage. Before I go on… Is this something you’re still interested in?”

Having finally got her act together and realized that she’d gotten completely the wrong end of the stick as Beatrice had been talking, Fiona now nodded so quickly her brain felt like it was bouncing around in her skull. “Yes, yes, absolutely! I’m definitely, one hundred and ten percent interested, thank you! Please sign me up. When do I start?”

Raising her eyebrows and smirking, Beatrice said, “Well, there are a couple of other things I need to mention to you first…”

“Okay, fantastic.” She’d relieved the pen from the death grip now and had it poised over the pad, ready to take notes.

“First, and most importantly, I need to remind you about the clause in your contract with regards to formal qualifications funded by the Totally Five Star. Since the money is coming out of the company pot, so to speak, and you’d be taking some time out of your regular working schedule to complete the course, you are legally obligated to remain with the company for at least two years after gaining your qualification. If you wish to leave before those two years are up, you must reimburse the company for the amount of the course. I know it probably sounds harsh, but that’s a pretty standard thing across the board.”

“Yes, I understand. That’s fair enough. You’re investing in me, so you want me to stick around for long enough to reap the benefits. Trust me, I get it. But you don’t have anything to worry about.” Fiona grinned. “This is an amazing place to work. Unless some seriously sexy billionaire suddenly declares undying love for me and proposes, I’m not going anywhere.”

Beatrice chuckled. “We do work in close proximity to an awful lot of billionaires. Or millionaires, at the very least.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I’m not sure how many of them you’d class as seriously sexy.”

“Like I said, you don’t have anything to worry about.” They exchanged a wry smile of understanding.

“Okay, great. Fantastic. I can see we made the right choice here. And you’re absolutely correct in what you say, about investing in you. That’s exactly what we’re doing, Fiona. Sophia believes in you, and she’s really hoping you’ll take us up on our offer. It’ll be tough, juggling your workload with the course and the eventual exam, but she’s confident that you’ll manage. And she will, of course, provide you with the support you need to make sure you’re not overwhelmed. She—
we
want you to succeed.”