Love and Liability (Dating Mr Darcy - Book 2) (27 page)

He was about to throw it aside when he glimpsed an article, “The New Face of Teen Homelessness.” But it wasn’t the text that riveted his attention. It was the photograph.

Black hair cut short, nose stud, scowling face…but there was no question it was
her
face.

Poppy’s face.

He searched for the byline. Who’d written the article? Who’d taken that photograph?

In a moment, he had his answer. “Holly James,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Photograph by Will Tennant.”

He scraped back his chair and stood, the magazine tucked securely under his arm.

The next order of business, Erik decided, was to run Ms Holly James to ground.

Chapter 39

“Zoe? It’s nearly time for the staff meeting.”

Zoe looked up to see Kate Ashby standing in front of her new cubicle. “Oh. Am I meant to go?”

“Yes, every Monday morning. You won’t be expected to contribute, not at first, anyway. Just listen and take notes.” She turned to her own cubicle and grabbed a pen and a pad and added in a low voice, “And try not to piss Sasha off.”

Zoe put aside the expenses folder she’d found in Holly’s box of things. Amongst the vouchers and reimbursement forms stuffed inside the folder, she’d found half a dozen receipts from Starbucks for two coffees and a muffin — the coffee and muffin Holly had brought to her nearly every morning.

A twinge of conscience pricked her.

Perhaps she’d been a bit hard on Seventies Girl. After all, Holly was the only one who’d ever bothered to talk to her or help her, the only one who’d acknowledged her existence; if it weren’t for Holly, she wouldn’t even have this job—

“Zoe, come
on
,” Kate called out. “You can’t be late for your first staff meeting.”

Reluctantly, Zoe stood and followed Kate down the hall and into the narrow conference room. A number of people sat around the table already, drinking coffee and carrying on desultory conversations. When Zoe walked in, the talking came to a stop.

“This is Zoe, everyone,” Kate said by way of introduction. “She’s my new assistant trainee and general intern.”

They all gazed at her with frank interest.

“My God…look at that hair,” one of the men remarked, loudly enough to be heard, to a stick-insect girl sitting next him. “Long live punk, eh?”

“At least I’ve
got
hair,” Zoe replied, and eyed his slightly receding hairline. “I’ve heard Regaine works wonders.”

His amusement vanished as laughter rippled around the table. “And I’ve heard the dole line’s really long these days,” he snapped. “Which you’ll find out for yourself, soon enough—”

“Oh, do shut up, Mark,” Kate told him wearily as she sat down. She turned to Zoe. “Just ignore him. We all do.”

Just then Sasha Davis strode in, smelling expensive and looking very smart in her pencil skirt and twinset. Immediately the conversations and joking stopped.

“All right, what do you lot have for me today?” she asked crisply as she took her place at the head of the table.

Kate raised her hand. “I’d like to introduce Zoe Jones. She’s my new assistant.”

“Welcome, Zoe.” Sasha’s gaze flicked briefly to the girl and away again. “I have some announcements, as well. Eleanor, formerly a temp—” she paused to indicate the mousy girl next to her “—is now a permanent hire. She’ll be taking Kate’s position. Welcome, Eleanor.”

Eleanor turned beet red and mumbled her thanks.

“Next,” Sasha continued, “Kate Ashby is my new features sub editor. She’s replacing Holly James.”

A murmur of surprise met her words.

“I’m sure you all know by now about the teen homelessness article debacle and the photo mix-up. Holly’s lost her job because of it.” Sasha’s cool gaze swept around the table ringed with startled faces. “Let that be a warning to all of you — mistakes of that magnitude will
not
be tolerated.”

“I don’t understand how Holly could’ve made such a huge mistake,” Zara remarked, puzzled. “She knows better.”

“She got careless,” Sasha responded. “She turned the article in late and got in a rush. And we all know what happens when we rush — we make mistakes.” She opened her Smythson organizer and tapped her pen against its pages expectantly.

One by one, the staff updated Sasha on the status of their various editorial projects. Suggestions were made, ideas proposed, all approved — or not — with a word or a withering look from Sasha. Zoe remained silent but took notes on everything from the planning meeting for the January issue — although it was barely August — to the schedule for the autumn/winter season of London Fashion Week.

The meeting ended an hour later. Zoe followed Kate out. Working at a magazine wasn’t quite what she’d expected — mostly, she fetched tea and coffee, stood in front of the photocopier, delivered departmental mail, and opened a lot of Jiffy bags.

Well, everyone had to start somewhere, she supposed. And photocopying was preferable to living on the streets.

Or worse still, to going back home.

Will Tennant picked up his burger with both hands and eyed Sasha. “Sure you don’t want what I’m having? Don’t you ever get tired of salad and a boiled egg?”

“I loathe them both,” she retorted as she jabbed at her salad. “But if I want to maintain my figure, I’ve no choice.”

“I happen to like your figure,” he remarked, and grinned as he took a bite of his burger. “A French fry — sorry, I mean a chip — now and then won’t kill you, you know.”

She shuddered. “I don’t know how girls like Holly eat like dock workers and stay so skinny. I never could.”

“I still can’t believe Holly got sacked.”

“She made a mistake. These things happen.”

“Not to Holly, they don’t. Or they shouldn’t.” Will set his burger aside. “As a matter of fact, I’m more than a little pissed off, myself.”

“Why?” Sasha asked, startled.

“Why? I know Holly didn’t submit that photo of Zoe,” he said deliberately, “because I didn’t take it. Whoever did—” he leaned back in his chair and studied Sasha “—did a crap job. It’s grainy and the resolution is lousy. I went to Valery and demanded she run a correction in the next issue. I don’t want my name attached to that photo.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“The thing I don’t understand,” he went on, his expression troubled, “is how it could’ve happened in the first place.”

“It’s unfortunate,” Sasha agreed, and pushed her plate aside, her salad barely touched. “I really don’t know what happened. I tried to save Holly’s place, but Valery wanted her sacked. Now, I really do need to get back—”

“Did you?” Will asked. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did you really try to help Holly? Or did you throw her under the bus?”

Sasha looked up sharply. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ll cover lunch,” she added, and reached for her handbag. “We’ve discussed nothing but work, so I can expense it.”

He stayed her hand with his and fixed her with a steady gaze. “Did you do it, Sasha? Did you switch those photos to get Holly fired? Tell me the truth.”

“Of course I didn’t!” she sputtered. “How could you even
ask
me such a thing? That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it? I wonder. After all, you told me yourself you were furious with Holly for telling your secret to Valery.”

“Of
course
I was angry! I still am. Holly had no business telling Valery my personal affairs. I specifically asked her to keep my confidence, but she didn’t.”

“She saved your job.” Will’s words were firm. “Valery was planning to fire you, Sasha. Holly told me the whole story. She was upset, didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to say anything, but she didn’t want you to lose your place, either. I advised her to go and tell Valery.”

“What?” Sasha stared at him, anger burning in her eyes. Twin spots of dull red mottled her cheeks. “Holly told you about my sister? And you told her to go straight to
Valery
? Well, thanks for that, Will!”

“She needed advice, Sasha. She was really torn. She knew you couldn’t afford to lose your job. She only told Valery what was going on so she’d give you another chance.”

“Well, good on her.” Sasha snatched up her bag and shoved her chair back. “But in the end, it was her lack of professionalism that cost Holly her job. I can scarcely be blamed for that.”

Will caught her arm. “Wait. We haven’t finished here.”

“Oh, yes, we have,” she informed him, and pulled away. “We’re quite finished. You and Holly have both proven that you can’t be trusted to keep a bloody secret. And
you
, Will — you’ve shown me what a very low opinion you have of me, if you honestly believe me capable of doing something so — so despicable to one of my staff!”

And with that, quivering with fury, Sasha shouldered her handbag and strode out.

At eleven-thirty Zoe left for lunch. As she emerged from the
BritTEEN
building, she paused at the top of the steps and glanced up and down the street. There was no sign of Sharon.

She frowned. They’d agreed to meet for lunch today; Sharon was looking forward to it. ‘I haven’t sat down in a proper restaurant,’ she’d confided to Zoe, ‘since me gran died.’

Zoe pulled out her mobile and punched in Sharon’s number. It rang several times, then clicked over to voicemail. “Sha,” she said urgently, “it’s Zo. I’m out here waiting for you. Where are you? I’m a bit worried. Call me!”

But although she waited for twenty minutes outside the Cafe Pasta as they’d agreed, Sharon never called, never showed up.

Zoe went in to Costa and bought a latte — she suddenly wasn’t very hungry — and came back out to scan the pavement. She spotted a couple of rough sleepers she’d seen around and asked if they’d seen a blonde with a pink skunk stripe in her hair. They hadn’t.

‘Would’ve remembered that,’ one of them said.

With her lunch hour nearly over, Zoe headed back to work. Her thoughts were troubled. Something was wrong, terribly wrong; she knew it. Sharon would never pass up a free meal, much less the beauty samples Zoe had brought her.

As she tossed her half-empty coffee cup in the rubbish bin, Zoe caught sight of Tommy, a skinny kid covered in tattoos who’d only recently landed on the streets. She hurried up to him.

“Tommy! Do you remember Sha, the girl I talked to sometimes, blonde hair with a pink stripe?”

He thought a moment. “Skinny? Always smoking?”

“That’s her.” Her heart knocked against her chest. “Have you seen her today? She’s not shown up for lunch.”

“Yeah. Saw ’er just a little while ago. She was chattin’ up some bloke in a car
.”

Zoe’s heart sank. She knew Sharon turned the occasional trick. “What kind of car was it? Do you remember?”

He snorted. “Not likely I’d forget! It looked like something out of
Top Gear
…a Maserati, no less. Brand new. Black.”

Chapter 40

Holly finished filling the salt cellars and topped up the sugar bowls — all forty-five of them — and headed through the kitchen to the back exit. She pulled out her mobile. Alex had called no less than twelve times since the Kate Incident yesterday — two of them this morning — and she’d let all twelve go directly to voicemail.

But when his name popped up on her screen as she went out back to take a quick break before the lunch rush, she decided to answer it. She’d have to talk to him sooner or later.

“Yes?” She was thinking seriously about giving up men altogether. They just weren’t worth the trouble.

“Holly? You finally answered! Thank God.”

“What do you want, Alex?”

“I want to apologize. And explain, if you’ll let me.”

She let the silence stretch out between them, waiting.
This should be good…

He let out a breath. “Look, it was a stupid idea, I see that now, but I thought if I showed a bit of interest in Kate—”

“A bit of interest?” Holly echoed. “Is that what you call it? You were on
top
of her, Alex!”

“I know it looked bad. But I was trying to get her to admit she’d switched those photographs,” he went on miserably. “I thought if I took her out to lunch, and got her trolleyed—”

“So you could do what, exactly?” Holly demanded. “Have your way with her and send her into throes of wild sexual abandon, so she’d confess what she did? I can just imagine
that
conversation — ‘Oh, Alex,’” she mimicked, “‘oh, don’t stop…by the way, I switched those photos of Zoe…oh, yes, just there, ooh, that’s the spot…’” She snorted with contempt.

“You can’t actually believe I’d shag your flatmate! I don’t even much
like
her. The whole thing was stupid, I admit. But I only intended to, er…charm her, so to speak, into admitting her guilt.”

“Well, obviously it worked. You charmed the clothes right off her. So — where’d you go?”

He paused, nonplussed. “Where did we
go
?”

“Yes, you know,” she said patiently. “For lunch, before you
charmed
her.”

Alex hesitated. “We…erm, we went to Hix.”

“You took Kate to
Hix
?” she sputtered. “I can’t believe it! You never even took me there.”

“We only went to dinner once,” he pointed out, reasonably. “If it’s Hix you want, I’ll take you, next time.”

“No, thanks.” Holly glowered and studied her chipped — how did
that
happen? — fingernail. “There won’t be a next time.”

Alex sighed in frustration. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”

“Oh? Am I meant to make it easier? Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Alex ploughed on, “when we got back to the flat, I went in the kitchen to make coffee. When I finished, Kate was…” He cleared his throat. “Well, you know.”

“Yes, I know. I know the only thing between you and her was a thong the width of a rubber band and a strip of Sellotape across her boobs.” Humiliation washed over her afresh at the memory. “Was she any good, Alex? Better than me? After all, you’d only just spent the entire weekend with me. You had the perfect basis for comparison.”

“Holly,” Alex said sharply, “nothing happened! I’m not interested in Kate in the slightest. And don’t be too hard on her — she was pretty well trolleyed on gin and tonics. Besides, I was only trying to pump her for information.”