Sharing Nicely (18 page)

I couldn’t speak, all words clogged up in my throat. I just wanted to run over to him and fling my arms around his neck but I couldn’t even propel myself forward anymore. Greg looked up and his expression barely changed. He lifted his eyebrows briefly then looked back down to the woman opposite him.

“That’s it for today, Samantha,” he said. “You can go home now.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, darting a look from the paper pad in her hand to the door and me as she made to stand.

“I am.” He nodded. “Just let Barney know I have a visitor when you leave, please.”

“Certainly, sir. See you tomorrow.”

The young girl stood and sashayed across the floor. Her outfit was highly practical and smart at first look, then you noticed the low V of her blouse that showed off ample cleavage, the three-inch heels on her black shoes and the tight cut of her jacket. She scowled when she walked past me and I couldn’t have cared less.

When the door clicked shut Greg was the first to speak.

“How did you get in?”

“The stairs,” I replied, still glued to the spot beside the door.

“Really? That’s a long way up.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “A really long way.”

“Jeez, Kerry, what do I have to do to keep you away from me?”

I shrugged. “I should apologise to the receptionist. She was very nice to me. I shed a few tears and she let me compose myself in the waiting room. I then completely broke her trust by sneaking off. Don’t punish her for it, please? She was very good at her job.”

“Not good enough to keep you out, though.” Greg sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Well, now you’re here you’d better come and sit down. I don’t suppose you’ll go if I ask you to, will you?”

“Just let me say my piece then if you still want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

Greg nodded curtly. He knotted his fingers together and rested them in his lap.

I forced myself to move forward and sat down in the chair opposite him. I wanted to reach out and touch him, I wanted to lean over the desk and kiss him, but I knew that those actions would lead to trouble so I reined myself in.

“Okay, so I guess I should start where we left off, in Venice.” I sighed deeply. My heart palpitated, and not just from the exertion I’d put myself through. “I didn’t leave that masquerade of my own accord, Greg. I was waiting on the balcony, cooling down and thinking about you when Darren arrived. I didn’t know he’d be there, I didn’t want him to be there but he appeared beside me and oh, God, I know this sounds far-fetched, but he held a gun to my side and made me leave with him.”

Greg didn’t show any sign of reaction to what I told him. He was stony-faced, his body held stiffly in his chair, his hands tightly entwined before him.

“I was completely petrified the whole time but as long as he had the gun I couldn’t do anything. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run away but I couldn’t because I was afraid he’d shoot me. He was completely psychotic. Kept telling me it was all for my own good, that I’d picked the wrong man and he was trying to protect me from you. He really didn’t see that he was doing anything wrong, it was creepy.”

Greg was still impassive. I carried on.

“He took me to some house and locked me in a room. All it had was a bed. I had no phone, I had no way to escape and I was so scared. I didn’t know what he was going to do. Luckily, when he came back I managed to knock him out.”

“How?” Greg asked. I jumped in my seat
—
I hadn’t been expecting him to speak.

“When he tried to, well, shall we say force his advances on me, I kneed him in the balls and knocked his head against the wall. I grabbed his keys and ran for it.”

“Damn it, Kerry, don’t tell such ridiculous lies to me,” he snapped. “At least honour me with the truth.”

“This
is
the truth.” I leaned against the desk and looked him in the eye. “I promise you it is. Would I make this up? If I was going to make up a convincing lie, Greg, this wouldn’t be it. It sounds ridiculous even to me and I lived it.”

He shook his head. “Right, fine, carry on with your story.” I could tell from the way he spoke that he still didn’t believe me but I carried on.

“I ran away and with the help of a kind old gentleman I got back to the hotel. When I got there I got your message and my luggage and made my way home. You know I tried to contact you then, but you didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to do so I just got stuck in at work. I didn’t have any way to contact you and you were making it clear you didn’t want to see me. I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t need you. I’ve been pushed to desperation. Darren rang me just when I got back to the UK and threatened me, not just me, but my business. Since then everything has gone wrong—bad reviews, suppliers pulling out of contracts, visits from the council and Environmental Health, staff leaving. You name it, I’ve put up with it, but this morning when I reached work it was on fire. The bastard has burnt down Diamonds.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how much the club means to you.”

I nodded. Tears flooded down my cheeks. I had nothing left, my business was in ruins, my private life was a mess and I couldn’t deny it anymore, I couldn’t hold it together for even a moment longer. It just flowed out of me in an unstoppable flood of tears and sobs.

“Kerry, oh, Kerry.” He sighed and fidgeted in his seat. “I wish I could believe you but it all sounds so far-fetched.”

I nodded, gasped in a lungful of air and wiped at my tear-stained cheeks. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” I gulped. “I wish I had some proof too, oh, do I. Darren is making my life a misery, Greg, but it’s nothing compared to the heartache of losing you.”

And so the tears rocked me again. I really wanted to hold it together but I was broken, completely and utterly at the end of my tether. I couldn’t stop crying no matter how much I tried.

Greg sat opposite me and said nothing. His jaw was no longer set and his eyes showed concern in their dark depths. He was leaning towards me from his side of the desk but he kept his hands clasped together, almost as if he was holding himself back.

“Okay,” he finally spoke. “Okay, I’m going to ask you what may seem to be a weird question right now. Just go with it.”

I nodded.

“Which mobile network do you use?”

I’m sobbing my heart out and he wants to sell me a phone package?
I shook my head, I couldn’t believe that was the motivation to the question really, but it was what jumped to mind first.

“Stamford’s,” I replied. “I’m already on your network.”

“Okay, good. Now, another question. Did Darren ring you on your mobile phone?”

“Yes, he did.” I looked up, wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. I was starting to understand what the questions were leading to.

“Okay, okay. I’ve just got to ring someone and we won’t get an immediate answer, but we could, maybe, possibly, be able to prove at least part of your story.”

Greg picked up his phone and looked at a piece of paper on his desk. He carefully dialled a number, then opened his desk drawer. He pulled out a box of tissues and pushed them across the wood to me. His first act of kindness since I had walked into his office. I crumpled into tears again.

I didn’t usually respond so hysterically to things. I wasn’t much of a crier really, but in that office I felt like I cried enough tears to last a lifetime. I tried to get a grip on myself while Greg spoke on the phone.

“Hiya, Trent, I need you to look up something for me. I need you to check the phone records for the account registered to Kerry Matthews. I have the number here.” He read out my number from the display on his phone. I felt a weird warmness inside when I realised he’d not deleted me as a contact.

“When did he ring you?” Greg asked. I got out my phone and checked the call logs.

“The twentieth of February at three twenty-eight p.m.”

“Did you hear that, Trent? Yeah, three twenty-eight p.m. We need to know who rang and if we can get the call data. I need to hear the content of that call too.” He paused, looked up at me and smiled. It was only a brief lifting of his lips but it was a smile all the same. “Brilliant, thanks, Trent. Treat this as priority, it could be a case for criminal prosecution. Yep, okay, tell me the moment you get it.”

Greg put down the phone and looked at me.

“Right, well, you know what I’ve done. I’m going to try to listen to that call Darren made to you. If it is, as you claim, filled with threats, I will know you’re telling the truth, at least partly.”

I scanned my memory quickly. That phone call was etched chillingly clearly there. “I think it could prove my whole story, we talked about Venice before he threatened the business.”

“It’s a slim chance, Kerry, I have to warn you of that. It’s not as simple as it sounds to find the info.”

“No, I appreciate that, Greg. I just hope it comes through for me.”

“I wish I didn’t need proof,” Greg sighed, “but where he’s involved…”

“I know.” I nodded, scrunching tissues in my hands. “I really do. I understand but I can’t deny it hurts me that you won’t take my word for it.”

“It hurts me too.” He pushed his chair back from the desk. “But I’m a jaded man, Kerry, and although I long to be able to simply trust you, I find that experience has taught me I can’t.”

“I’ve never done anything to purposefully hurt you, you know.” I got up and followed Greg over to the window that was directly behind his desk. The view over the city was breath-taking. I stood next to him, a few inches between our bodies, and looked out over the metropolis, astounded by its vastness.

“I was scared to death when I went back to the balcony that night and you weren’t there. I searched high and low and it was only when I asked the footmen who were on duty by the canal exit that I found out you were okay and that you’d left with Darren. I was relieved and appalled all at once.”

I reached out my hand. My knuckles almost brushed his when I decided that touching him might not be my best move.

“I couldn’t believe it, but then I saw the CCTV footage and I had to believe what I saw.”

“I wasn’t happy, Greg, surely you saw that? I wasn’t smiling.” I wanted to defend myself, which was ridiculous really
—
I was the victim, after all.

“I didn’t see anything past you and him together,” Greg replied. “It’s all I’ve been able to see whenever I close my eyes.”

He looked towards me. His eyes were lined with grey shadows, his face etched with pain and disappointment.

“I was petrified, Greg. I was being kidnapped.” I might have felt a little sympathy for him but I was still angry at him too. He hadn’t come to rescue me, no, he hadn’t even waited for me. He’d left me stranded in a foreign country and he’d promised never to leave me.

He shrugged.

“I didn’t know that. Darren is a bastard, but I didn’t think he was capable of that.”

“Look.” I grabbed Greg’s hand. His first reaction was to shake me free but then he held still. I gulped, my senses racked by touching him. “What I need to know right now is can we ever get back together? Even if it’s proved that all I’ve told you is the truth, will you be able to trust me?”

I kept my hand on his, unwilling to pull it back, to lose its warmth, its comfort.

He let out a deep shuddering breath and turned to face me. He caught my other hand in his, held both of them down at my sides and looked deep into my eyes.

“I never wanted to not trust you,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to believe what I saw, I didn’t want to think you were capable of crushing me like that.”

I shook my head gently, insistently, tears pooling once more, threatening to fall.

“And now, now I’m faced with the possibility I was wrong. All the pain I’ve been through, all the sleepless nights, completely self-inflicted. I’m wondering if I’ve missed something, if I should have examined the footage harder, longer. If I’ve—” His voice ceased and I stepped forward, wanting to comfort him. “If I’ve ruined our relationship just because of my own hang-ups, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. I said I’d never leave you and if you didn’t go of your own accord, I did. I broke my promise.”

I slipped my hands out of his and stepped forward. I wrapped myself around him and buried my face in his chest. Greg stood poker still as I sobbed against his bright red tie then he encompassed me in his embrace. He stroked my back and rested his chin on the top of my head.

I didn’t want to think, I didn’t want to remember anything, I didn’t want the moment to stop. I was in his arms, I was held in the arms of the man I loved and for the first time in weeks I felt safe.

“I can’t do this,” he said and pulled back. “I want to, but I can’t, I really can’t.”

I pulled back too. “I know, but I needed that. It’s all I’ve wanted for weeks, I’ve just felt so alone.” Once again, despite my determination not to, I burst into tears.

“Oh, jeez, Kerry, I’m so sorry.” He reached out again and pulled me to his chest. I sobbed uncontrollably and he just held me. I was warm, comfortable and content while I was in his arms. Nothing had really changed—when he let me go I’d still be clubless, manless and broken-hearted—but in the safety of his embrace none of that mattered.