Love Redesigned (13 page)

‘It was just sex,’ Daniel had told himself—and continuously repeated to himself every time he thought about Holly. Which had been more often than he cared to admit. After the second time in her office, he’d run straight back to Miranda and proposed to her, in a fit of guilt and anxiety, to reassert some of his former self-control. In fact, he felt pretty proud of himself for being so restrained during his birthday weekend. Of course, there had been
that
kiss. That kiss that had almost melted away the very last remnants of his resolve. But he’d come back from the brink, held firm, and walked away. Eventually.

Miranda was definitely the type of woman Daniel knew he needed. Miranda was both ruthless and astute, as well as being extremely pleasing to the eye. She had proved herself an able business partner, deftly making the transition from being his PA to being his sole supporter and financier for the development business. She was essentially a female version of him. They rarely argued, seeing eye to eye on pretty much everything. Plus, she wasn’t the least bit maternal: she quite firmly shared Daniel’s unwavering stance on parenthood. Or, that was, until recently: when his unwavering stance had become a considerable wobble, thanks to Harry coming into his life. Miranda was the woman for him. She was everything he could possibly ever need.

Holly, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more different from Miranda if she’d tried. She was argumentative, hard-headed. Even more so, it seemed, since she’d had Harry. Sure, he’d loved her to bits when they’d first gotten together, but this new Holly acted like a different person. She was proving to be a constant challenge, requiring continual negotiation and inevitable compromise. Daniel hated compromising. Or at least, he thought he always had. With Holly, this second time around, he didn’t seem to mind quite so much. She was ballsy and brave. Becoming a mother had obviously been the making of her.

And when it came to fooling around with Holly, Daniel didn’t have a clue what he was doing. He liked her fierceness. He liked her for standing up to him and Miranda, and this wasn’t something he usually considered an admirable quality. And Jesus, he liked the woman’s body. She was sexy as hell, and yet she didn’t seem to have the foggiest idea just how sexy she really was. Miranda was sexy, too, but she knew it, and subsequently used her sex appeal to her advantage all the time. Holly was a completely different entity altogether. There was definitely something magnetic about Holly Percival—as she was calling herself these days. Now she was even threatening his business, and yet all Daniel could think in response was,
go on then, if it means I get to see and play with you some more
. He was just remembering the way Holly had looked in her tight black dress at his birthday party when Miranda barged into his office, bringing him out of a rather pleasant and increasingly graphic daydream.

‘So,’ she said, hands on hips.

‘So… what?’ Daniel replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets deliberately to add to his insolence. He rooted himself to his spot by the window defiantly, refusing to budge.

‘What did you say to that trumped-up money-grabber?’ Miranda demanded, eyeing him carefully. It occurred to Daniel for the first time that she must have her suspicions.

‘Don’t speak about her that way,’ Daniel scolded her coldly. ‘She’s still my wife, and more importantly the mother of my child. Need I remind you that she hasn’t once asked for money.’

‘Until now,’ Miranda bitched. ‘Look, Daniel darling. Let’s not fight about her,’ Miranda said soothingly, switching from viper to pussycat in the blink of an eye.

‘Let’s not,’ Daniel replied stiffly.

‘Don’t look so stressed,’ Miranda said as she sashayed towards him, threading her arms through his to hug him. He automatically rested his head on top of hers, inhaling the expensive scent of her shampoo.

‘I know it must be hard for you,’ Daniel conceded as his body relaxed into his fiancée’s.

‘Nonsense,’ Miranda sighed. ‘This will all be over soon. Once your divorce is finalised, we can move on and start planning our future. You and me.’

‘Can’t wait,’ Daniel said, consciously removing any doubt from his voice as he hugged Miranda closer.

‘Just promise me one thing,’ Miranda said, pulling away slightly so she could look at him.

‘Anything.’

‘Promise that you’ll spend as little time as possible with Holly. I know you may want to see Harry, but she doesn’t need to be a part of the equation.’

‘I promise. Like I’d want to spend time with her anyway,’ Daniel said, simultaneously smiling and lying through his teeth to appease the woman in front of him.

‘Good,’ Miranda said, smiling broadly, obviously having heard what she’d been wanting to hear. Daniel leaned in and kissed her deeply to hide any hint of confusion that may have crossed his features. He loved Miranda, he told himself, forcing any thoughts of what it would be like to kiss Holly in his office back into the dark and unexplored areas of his mind. He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought maybe he’d explore those areas later when he was alone.

It was Friday morning, and for Daniel, it had been a long and interminably tedious week. He was looking forward to a quiet weekend, and even though it was his own company he was working for, he was already guilty of clock-watching. Miranda had some family party, which he thankfully wasn’t being forced to attend, and that meant he’d have the house to himself and plenty of football on the TV to keep him going. It had been a busy week, one in which he felt like he was continually fighting fires: troubleshooting build issues on multiple projects and then dealing with some staffing issues that had arisen out of nowhere. He’d also had to sit Miranda down for a serious heart-to-heart about the compensation package he’d promised Holly for using her designs. Miranda hadn’t exactly been ecstatic about any of it, but she had eventually agreed to his numbers, albeit through gritted teeth. He’d since instructed his solicitor to deliver the compensation deal, as well as to proceed with the divorce papers and settlement as quickly as possible.

Daniel hadn’t heard a peep from Holly, but then, he hadn’t really expected to. He guessed she’d probably want to think about the offer before she no doubt came back with queries, or something else that needed further negotiation and compromise on his part. It was only in his dreams that she’d been present. All week he’d been plagued with unusually vivid dreams starring Holly. He’d dreamed all manner of things about her: Holly camping, Holly baking a cake, Holly climbing a never-ending ladder, Holly in bed with him asleep, Holly in the shower. There had been nothing sexual in his dreams, much to Daniel’s annoyance. That would have made for a better quality of dream altogether, and would have been much easier to explain away. But no, all the scenarios he’d been able to remember pertained to ordinary everyday life.
Boring
everyday life. Even so, a little voice inside was asking: why was he dreaming about Holly in such situations? Shouldn’t it be Miranda he should be dreaming about performing these everyday tasks? That same little voice had even escaped into the real world at one point during the week, when he’d asked Miranda if she’d ever baked a cake. She looked at him like he’d fallen out of his tree and then cracked up laughing. She’d exclaimed, in a typical Miranda-like way, that that was ‘what the staff were for’.

Daniel was just looking at his phone, urging its digital clock to fast-forward through the remainder of his day, when, as if by magic, it started ringing.

‘Claudia. I thought I said to hold all my calls,’ he snapped irritably into the phone.

‘I’m sorry sir, but I have Mrs Madison on the line for you. She was most insistent she be put through to you.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Daniel replied, surprised on two counts. One, that
she
was calling, and two, that she had used her married name. ‘Put her through.’

‘Hi Holly,’ he said smoothly, once the line had connected. ‘Everything alright?’ He attempted to sound casual as an image of them cooking dinner together flashed through his mind—which was weird, as he rarely cooked these days. He actually quite liked cooking, but he just didn’t do it so much anymore. Not since he’d gotten together with Miranda anyway. She was more a Michelin-starred eateries fan than a home-cooked meal kind of gal. And if they did stay in, Stephanie would usually cook for them.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Holly began, making no attempt at small talk or pleasantries.

‘Okay,’ Daniel replied, fighting the urge to make a joke about how that must have been painful.

‘I’ll do your house,’ Holly announced.

‘You will?’ Daniel said, surprised.

‘Yes. But on one condition,’ Holly continued.

‘What’s that?’ Daniel said slowly. She was doing that negotiation thing again.

‘I only want to work on it outside of my usual office hours. My workload is just too packed at the moment. So that means evenings and weekends.’

‘That’s fine by me,’ Daniel said automatically, without thinking through what he was saying—and the consequences for him when Miranda found out. Seeing Holly on evenings and weekends wasn’t exactly sticking to his promise of spending a minimal amount of time with the woman.

‘You do realise Harry will have to come along for the ride, don’t you?’ Holly said, with an edge of triumph in her voice. She knew she’d caught him out.

‘Of course I do,’ Daniel lied. Being a father was still so new to him that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Being a father was one thing, but thinking like a father twenty-four seven was going to take some time.

‘And Harry’s fine, by the way. Thank you for asking,’ Holly added, sticking her knife in further.

‘I was just about to ask, actually,’ Daniel lied again. ‘But I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.’

‘What time do you want us?’ Holly asked, ignoring his jibe.

‘What—tonight?’ Daniel asked, seeing his soccer evening rapidly disappearing off into the distance.

‘Is that a problem?’ she said impatiently.

‘No, I guess not,’ Daniel said, unable to mask his disappointment. All he really wanted to do was stretch out on his couch. Choosing new fabrics and cushions wasn’t really the start to his weekend that he’d anticipated.

‘I thought you’d like to spend some time with your son,’ Holly said in a condescending tone, still twisting that knife of hers. ‘Much better than watching whatever football match or matches you had in mind,’ she added.

‘I’d love to spend time with Harry. How about six-ish?’ Daniel said, answering her earlier question.

‘Fine. I’d like to see the house at sunset anyway. See how the light works,’ Holly said, sounding less argumentative.

‘Maybe I’ll cook,’ Daniel offered, as that image of them cooking made a reappearance.

‘Yeah, whatever works for you,’ Holly said dismissively. ‘Oh, you might want to get some sausages in then, because that’s all he’s eating this week.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Daniel said, sounding more like a father.

‘I have to go. See you around six,’ Holly said, and hung up without even waiting for him to respond.

Daniel looked at the dead receiver in his hand. The sceptic in him wondered what had prompted Holly’s call. Was she really coming to do his house? Or was there an ulterior motive at play? Whatever game she was playing, Daniel couldn’t help but feeling a little excited about the prospect of seeing her again, even if he did have to forgo his first-choice plans. And then there was Harry, of course. He must not forget about Harry. The more he thought about it, the more fortuitous he felt. Miranda was out of his hair for the weekend, and Holly wanted to come and do his house. It was obviously meant to be. Miranda would never have to know a thing.

Holly was late. It was already nearly twenty past, and there was still no sign of her or Harry. Not that Daniel was worried. Much. He remembered Holly as always being super-punctual when they’d been together. Therefore this lateness was most unlike her, and he couldn’t help but start to think that maybe something bad had happened.

‘I bet it’s that bloody car of hers,’ Daniel said to himself, pacing around his kitchen in an effort to stop himself from continually peeking out the front door. To keep himself busy, he started rooting around, trying to locate the various pans he needed for the dinner he had in mind. Despite having lived in the house for some years, the kitchen was still alien to him, and he didn’t quite get Stephanie’s logic for all her storage choices. For example, she seemed to keep party straws and napkins in every conceivable place in the kitchen. As he familiarised himself with the contents of this cupboard and that, he kept discovering yet more napkins and damn party straws. They turned up in every drawer he looked in and several of the cupboards as well. He found himself wondering how many parties he’d had. Surely not
that
many.

At just gone six-thirty, Daniel finally heard the crunch of tires on his gravel driveway.

‘At last,’ he said to himself as he hurried to the front door. He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and willed himself to play it cool. What was the matter with him? Why the hell was he getting in such a flap about Holly, his soon-to-be ex-wife, coming to dinner? With Harry. Maybe it was the idea of spending more time with Harry that was making him nervous. As he opened the door, a little man came running towards him. Daniel instinctively scooped him up, to Harry’s great delight.
See, nothing to be nervous about
, Daniel told himself as he smiled broadly at his son.

‘Hi, Holly,’ he said warmly as she appeared from the other side of her car, carrying folders and a huge sketchbook.

‘Hi,’ she said, giving him a tight smile. ‘Sorry we’re late. Shall we get down to business?’ she asked, somewhat coldly—and clearly rhetorically, as she walked right past him and Harry and headed straight for the living room.

‘Someone’s in a bad mood,’ Harry whispered conspiratorially into Daniel’s ear.

‘I see,’ he whispered back. Then, to Holly’s back, he said, ‘Sure,’ and followed her through.

‘I’m sorry, Daddy,’ Harry began, still happy to be carried in Daniel’s arms. ‘It was my fault we were late. Mummy says it’s
always
my fault.’ Holly spun around and shot Harry a warning look. She had her camera out and was taking snaps of all the furniture in the room.