Cinderella Substitute (9 page)

He regained his composure and glanced back towards the house. Jenni no longer stood at the window. Maybe she had called a taxi to go home. Nate couldn't blame her if she had.

Rufus answered his whistle, and together they headed back up the path towards the house.

He pushed the kitchen door open to find the room empty.

For a split second, it looked as if she'd gone and his stomach contracted in pain at the idea. Then he smelt the delicious aroma of fresh coffee and heard the gentle burbling of his state-of-the-art percolator.

Rufus padded in to settle himself in his dog basket with a mournful look at Nate as if to question his sanity. Jenni came in through the door which led to the hall. She looked 79

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uncertain. Without her glasses to hide behind, she appeared more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. A snatch of guilt tugged at his conscience. It had happened again, once more he'd hurt someone he cared about.

"I made some coffee. I thought you might be cold." She watched him warily, poised in the doorway as if she thought he might order her to leave.

"Thanks, I could use a drink."

He studied her as she took two mugs from the shelf to pour the drinks.

This new Jenni confused him. The old Jenni would have been half way home in a taxi by now. That Jenni wouldn't have still been here in his kitchen calmly making coffee. In the space of a few days, she had changed so much from the woman he had worked with every day for the last eighteen months. Had he ever really known Jenni? These new-found feelings he had towards her scared him more than he had ever thought possible. Yet how would she react if she knew he had been responsible for Cerys' death?

She passed him a mug of coffee. "Nate, I should have chosen my words more carefully. I know you find it hard to talk about Cerys and," she paused, "well, you're my friend. I care about you."

Pain welled up inside him and his grip tightened on the handle of his own mug. She saw him as a friend. Why should that hurt so much?

"Forget it, Jenni. It's not a subject I want to discuss." His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears. He couldn't fail to see her pained expression at his abruptness. "I know you 80

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meant well, though." He added the last part in a softer tone, as he struggled to keep control of his emotions.

"Well, if you want to run through the other documents with me, then I'll go home and let you finish off your work." Her voice sounded stiffly businesslike.

He raked his hand through his hair and finished up by rubbing at the sore muscles at the back of his neck.
Soon, he
would have to tell her soon.

"Come through to the office. I'll get the papers." He kept his voice curt as he walked out past her to lead the way to his study.

* * * *

Nate pulled up outside Jenni's flat. His eyes narrowed when he noticed the group of teenage boys hanging around the shops near her front door.

"I'll walk you in." His mouth set in a determined line.

"It's all right, they're always hanging about." It was quite true. A group of kids always hung about either outside the takeaway or the off license. They left litter and daubed graffiti on her front door. In the summer, when she had her windows open, she could hear them swearing and could smell the smoke from their cigarettes.

"I'm seeing you safely inside. Don't the police ever come and move them on?" he queried.

"All the time, but they keep drifting back."

She clicked on the stairwell light after she opened the door. Nate bent down to retrieve a folded scrap of lined paper from the vestibule floor.

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"Someone's left you a note, Jenni." He handed the piece of paper over. Puzzled, she glanced at the writing on the front.

It just had her name—no address, so someone must have called by and pushed it through the letterbox by hand.

"You should read it upstairs." Nate suggested with a glance at the audience of teenagers outside the door.

Jenni led the way up to her flat. A cold ominous sensation settled over her.

She dropped her bag onto the floor, then sank down on the settee to unfold the note. Nate stood near her as she scanned the ill-written missive.

"It's from Tracey, my birth mother." The message seemed confused, almost as if her mother had been in trouble of some kind and had written the note in a hurry.

"I didn't think she had your address?" Nate sounded puzzled, a frown creased his brow.

"She doesn't. At least I've never given it to her. I took your advice about taking it slowly in getting to know her. I didn't put any of my details on the letter I sent to her." Jenni felt baffled.

"So what does she want?" The harsh tone in Nate's voice made her look at him in some surprise.

"Why would she want anything?" Jenni asked. "This just says her personal situation is difficult at the moment. She still wants to meet me, but needs to wait a little while until things settle down at home." She passed the note over. Nate studied it for a few minutes without speaking.

"How did she find out where you live? This whole thing doesn't add up, Jen."

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In her heart, she knew he had a point. Jenni hadn't given her mother her home address. Her adoptive father had always emphasized Tracey's bad character. It might have caused Jenni problems if Tracey had turned up at the flat and they had nothing in common.

"Why do you live here, Jenni?" The question she dreaded hung in the air.

She tried to find an explanation which didn't lay her open to humiliation and pity.

"I moved here when Mum was ill, to be near the nursing home." She pleated between her fingers the knitted throw which covered the tatty seat.

"And?" he pressed, "Why haven't you moved? I know you hate this flat. I've seen your face when I bring you home, Jenni."

She knew Nate would be determined to get to the bottom of the riddle of why she chose to live in such an awful place.

He wouldn't let up till he had the answer.

"The nursing home cost me a lot of money. I had to sell Mum and Dad's house. When those funds ran out, I borrowed the money to keep Mum there. I can't afford to move yet, Nate." Now that she had confessed her money worries to someone, a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. She'd struggled along with it for so long alone.

He stayed silent for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have loaned you the money or helped you work something out."

"I don't want charity, Nate. Making sure Mum was happy and cared for in the place of her choice was the least I could 83

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do for her." She knew her voice sounded sharp and she didn't intend it to. She valued her independence. Her flat might not be very special, but she had paid off most of the debt with her own hard work. Soon she would be able to start getting a deposit together. Then she'd be able to find a new home.

She hadn't been working for Nate very long when her mother had died. Nate had still been wrapped up in his grief for Cerys. Jenni learned from her childhood to be independent, to keep things to herself. Old habits died hard.

"So what are you going to do now?"

Jenni blinked. "Do?"

"Now your birth mother has your address?" He tapped the note between his fingers. "Reading between the lines, it sounds as if she might be involved with something or someone pretty unsavory."

Jenni stared at him. "Surely not. Maybe she simply has a lot on at the moment. We don't know anything about her life.

It
is
almost Christmas."

Nate frowned. "Exactly. You don't know anything about her. You didn't give her your address, so how did she find you? I'm sorry, Jen. I'm concerned about you, that's all. I think you're too vulnerable living here by yourself."

"There must be a simpler explanation, Nate." She became aware of the faint pleading note in her voice. She hadn't realized until now just how much she wanted everything to be all right, to have someone who belonged to her. Someone who was truly family. How pathetic was that? Nate scowled, his face perplexed.

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"Yes, there probably is." The small crease stayed on his forehead as he handed the note back to her.

He looked at his watch and grimaced. "I have to go, Jenni.

I'll pick you up in the morning and give you a lift into work.

Promise me you'll take extra care about your security. Don't answer the door if you don't know who it is."

"I'm not a child, Nate. I've lived here on my own for over a year now, I think I can take care of myself." She resented the implication that she couldn't be trusted to take basic safety precautions.

"Just be careful, Jenni. I'll pick you up at seven, which should give us time to get quite a lot of work done before the rest of the staff arrives for briefing."

She followed him to the door. "Okay I'll see you tomorrow."

He paused at the top of the stairs, his expression serious as he surveyed her face. "Lock the door behind me, Jenni."

Something about the set of his shoulders made her heart beat a little faster. The butterflies started to dance in her stomach. "I will."

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Jenni dressed the next morning with special care. She decided to wear one of the new tailored suits Lorna had persuaded her to buy. The department store on the high street had been having a pre-Christmas special sale, so she had managed to buy two outfits for the price of what one would normally have cost her. The amount she'd saved appealed to her bank balance. The fit of the suit appealed to her vanity.

The morning flew by. The team from New York arrived and appeared to be impressed with both the model of the planned building and the presentation. The brunch she arranged went well too. By mid-afternoon, the clients left to go back to their hotel to rest. Jenni took the opportunity to clear up while Nate debriefed the rest of the team.

She and Nate had been invited to dine with Mr. Woods, the head of the delegation, and his P.A., at their hotel that evening before they left for London in the morning to see the rival bid.

"This is our chance to really show what we can do," Nate told Jenni as she gathered up the briefing papers in the boardroom. "Mr. Woods is very particular about the companies he works with. It's not only having a great design.

He always says he likes to feel a rapport with the people he employs. That's why he's here and not some junior executive.

If it all goes well tonight, we might just seal the deal."

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Jenni paused in her tidying. "So, how well do you think we're doing?"

"He seemed to love everything so far about the quality of the project and he was quite amenable to the suggestions we put to him," Nate said.

"But?" Jenni asked.

Nate sighed. "I don't know. I have a feeling the real decider will be the dinner tonight. After all, today we only went over the things that must have already been pitched to him in New York."

Jenni's confidence plummeted. She wasn't good at social small talk. What if she messed the deal up tonight for Nate?

Miss Marchant, the American P.A, or Jo, as she had said she preferred to be called, had looked very pleasant, but appeared very sophisticated to Jenni. Her conversation had been peppered with quotes like, "When we were in New Zealand," "When we did the Japanese project' and "When we were in Hungary." Jenni hadn't even traveled as far as London very often. How could she compete?

"Why don't you ask Nathalie to go to the dinner tonight?

She's very good at making conversation, I'm sure she'd do a better job of selling the contract." All Jenni could think about was how terrible she'd feel if they lost the contract because of her social ineptitude. Nathalie was a successful businesswoman in her own right, she would be sure to make a good impression.

Nate stared at her with a frown. "Why would I want to ask Nathalie? You're my P.A. You know more about the project than most people. You've done a terrific job here today."

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Jenni flushed. "I just thought..." she faltered. Nate gazed at her, obviously baffled.

"Jenni, I have every faith in you. There is nothing for you to worry about. Just treat tonight as a pleasant night out."

She shuffled the papers in her hands into a folder, intent on her task. The touch of his hands on her shoulders as he came to stand behind her startled her and sent a thrill of anticipation through her body.

"Just be yourself, Jenni. You'll be fine."

The phone rang. He took his hands from her shoulders as she reached across to take the call.

* * * *

Back in her bedroom after a long luxurious soak in the bath, Jenni surveyed the contents of her wardrobe in despair.

What did you wear to a meal in a five star hotel restaurant?

Thanks to Lorna, she had a respectable work wardrobe and even a couple of new casual things, but anything more formal became a struggle.

Gloomily, she studied her options. A black dress she had worn for her mother's funeral. A pink summer strappy dress she had worn for a college friend's wedding years ago, or a very clingy cherry red dress Lorna had given her a few months ago.

She pulled the red dress out of the closet. It had been one of Lorna's impulse buys from a shop that had been closing down. On getting it home, she had discovered it didn't fit her and had gifted it to Jenni. Jenni had never envisaged herself 88

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at the time as being brave enough to wear it. Perhaps now was the time to get her courage up.

She stared at it for a few more minutes, then looked again at her other choices. A picture of Jo Marchant looking immaculate in a beautiful evening dress flashed through her head. She knew she had no option but to brazen it out in the red dress.