Read Her Client from Hell Online
Authors: Louisa George
Not only that, but he was everything she’d described to him before. He was considerate, had looked after her when she’d been sick, had helped her out on her stall, had ridden the waves of her continual lateness and still offered her the contract for his sister’s wedding. He made her feel safe, wanted, sexy. She hoped more than anything that she instilled those things in him; she wanted to make him smile every day. Every minute. Wanted him with such a need she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t sleep.
If that was love, then perhaps, just perhaps she was falling in love with him.
But the harsh truth was that he wasn’t in love with her.
This whole fling thing didn’t mean anything, they’d agreed. And yet, even so, she’d done the most stupid thing in the world and thought she could control her emotions.
Her throat felt raw. No, her whole chest was constricted. She could not love this man.
You do not want to get involved with me
.
This was the worst possible thing to happen, the worst timing. The worst man to fall for—one who didn’t just not love her, but who didn’t
want
to love anyone. He’d spent his life making sure he didn’t fall prey, like she had, to something that might damage him. He’d been damaged enough.
I’m not going to open every wound for you
.
He’d warned her and she had not listened. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he stroked her back in long soft movements. Breathed in his so familiar smell, felt the tension melt away from his body. Holding him, just touching him was torture and ecstasy. She didn’t want to let go, but she had to. Like tearing away a layer of her heart, bloody and bruised.
Was it worse then, to never allow yourself to fall in love for risk of hurting too much? Or to fall in love anyway and endure the hurt that came at the end?
She wanted to make him feel better, somehow, but declaring how she felt would surely make him run in the opposite direction. Selfish, really, to have heard his story and think about how this might affect her, but self-protection ran deep through her blood too. She twisted from him and looked at her watch, keeping her voice gentle. ‘Goodness, it’s getting late. We should get going.’
‘Yeah. I guess.’ He huffed out a long breath, closing his eyes. He didn’t move. Just sat there for a few more minutes and as she watched him she knew she couldn’t let this chance go. It was rash and dangerous, but wasn’t that the way she lived her life? Rattling out of control?
He looked so desolate and alone that if she did tell him how she felt then maybe she could change things for him, prove to him that good things could happen, that people could be treasured and wanted. That you could find happiness, a home—it was possible.
Maybe they could work things out?
Maybe not. Maybe she was on a hiding to nothing. He’d laugh at her.
Like him, she’d been fighting her feelings for so long, scared to trust anyone ever again, scared of them taking over, of losing herself. But with Jack she was still complete—she didn’t lose anything of herself, but she gained so much more.
Could she? Dare she? Take a risk? Like he’d done that first day he’d walked up the steps to kiss her. Or the second time when he’d turned up at her house. Or the time he’d helped her with her tyre and then still given her the catering contract. For someone in control, he’d taken a few risks around her.
Knowing he was prepared to do that for her had made her stronger, made her start to trust again.
If she broached the subject, maybe they could move past this barrier of pretence they’d erected, stop making out that this was a temporary attraction, that after the wedding they could walk away unscathed. Because this turning up on each other’s doorstep, the fevered love-making, the shared jokes...wasn’t that worth something? She damned well thought it was.
Her heart thundered, she couldn’t walk, couldn’t stop this. Maybe it was time to be honest.
* * *
Jack stood and took hold of Cassie’s hand again—things felt better that way. And, yeah, although his gut felt hollowed out a little, he was still whole. Kind of more whole now than he’d ever been. Sharing that stuff was hard; it made him remember things he didn’t want to ever relive. And he’d worried how she would take it. It wasn’t exactly a fairy tale, but they were past that, he knew. Neither of them believed in all that guff about happy ever afters. Cassie was a realist, he’d come to learn.
But she seemed in a hurry to get back to the house. Maybe his story had shocked her more than he’d expected it would but he wasn’t ready to go back inside; he liked being free, breathing in fresh air. ‘We could just walk over to the Japanese garden, then double back to the house?’
‘No, can we just go straight back?’ She looked a little shaken but she didn’t let go of his hand.
‘Hey, are you okay?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘I didn’t mean to upset you. It doesn’t affect me any more; it’s just what happened.’
Liar
.
He was so used to her amazing genuine sunny smiles that he knew this one was half pretence, half something else. Sadness? Pity? Her voice sounded strained and strange. ‘I’m not upset, Jack. Well, I mean, what happened to you was very upsetting, but I’m just tired. Too much excitement for one day.’
‘Again, not as much as I’d like.’ It was becoming a running joke. He slipped his arm round her waist and pulled her closer, running fingers across an inch of bare skin between her top and skirt waistband and he thought about breaking every rule and having her here on the path.
Did she flinch? Or had he tickled her? He couldn’t be sure but she seemed disconcerted, different. Serious. Perhaps she would smile again at the thought of some more fun. Clear the air. Freshen things up again. ‘Are you ready for dessert? And...do you want to stay over?’
That was a biggie for them both; last time she’d sent him packing, this time he’d make sure she wanted to stay again. She seemed startled, her eyes lighting up. ‘Oh. I...yes. But there’s something you need to know.’
‘That you snore? No worries, I have industry standard ear plugs.’
She laughed nervously, her hand became fidgety and he let it loose so she could talk with it. But she walked along, her head down, the crazy mess of colours of her clothes blending in with the summer flowers that flanked the path. Her body seemed quieted, still almost. Eerily composed. This not talking was so unlike her. They walked in silence for a while as dusk cast russet shades through the trees.
When they reached his gate she rested her hand on the lever but didn’t open it. She seemed to be struggling with something in her head, then finally she looked as if she’d decided what to say and how to say it. ‘Jack. I need to tell you something.’
Her face was so serious
his stomach twisted into a knot.
She’s not catering
the wedding
.
She’s pregnant
.
She’s leaving
. ‘Er...Okay. You want to go inside?’
‘Here’s as good a place as any.’ She took both of his hands in hers and looked up at him, those large blue eyes shimmering. After a deep breath that she let out slowly, she spoke. ‘Jack, I know I said that I wasn’t looking for anything serious. That those kisses, that this...us—’ she pointed to him and then back at her chest ‘—doesn’t mean anything...’
He knew what was coming. The one thing he’d vowed he would never let happen. He couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say.
‘But it does. It means something to me.’ She bit her lip and there was so much hope in her eyes—hope that he desperately did not want to squash. ‘Jack, I’m falling in love with you.’
He turned away. A rock lodged itself in his throat. Of all the goddamned stupid things to let her do. ‘That’s a big leap from
this doesn’t mean anything
.’
‘Well, I know, but it’s true.’
He faced her again, words falling from his mouth before he could stop them ‘You can’t, Cass. You can’t.’
‘I can. And I can’t seem to stop it.’
‘Didn’t I just tell you what happened to me? Didn’t you get from that that I don’t do this?’
Her mouth twitched and for a moment he thought she was going to cry but she controlled it. ‘I know, but I thought—’
‘That you’d try to fix me? Make me feel better?’ His voice rose and he knew he was breaking her precious heart. But it was better to do this now than later down the track. Better to let her go than pretend he could love her too, the way she wanted. The way every woman expected. The way she deserved. The way he didn’t know how. Jeez, what the hell was he supposed to do now? ‘I’m sorry, Cassie. But you’ve got the wrong man.’
Then he pressed his hand over hers and opened the gate, his instinct telling him to run, to not be taken in by another grand gesture that promised him things he could never have. His mouth dried up from panic; his heartbeat pounded in his ears, steady at first but turning to white noise.
And yet she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, large blue eyes telling him what she couldn’t find words to say. A body that he knew so intimately and that he could never tire of kissing. And her smart, funny mouth that showed him how intelligent she really was, how passionate, how dazzling.
But not for him.
He knew she expected more but he didn’t know what. She couldn’t love him, just like he couldn’t love her. End of. No argument. He would not let his hopes be raised and dashed again. Or hers. Definitely not hers. He’d stuffed up the first time he’d kissed her, but he’d just kept coming back for more and let himself get too involved. Pretending he could do this without developing any feelings for her. And worse, that she would not be lulled into thinking he could give her what she needed.
There were tears in her eyes now, but he knew that she was strong enough to not let them fall. That she was strong enough to move on. It was he who had the flaws, not Cassie. She was nothing short of perfect. ‘You deserve more, Cassie. From someone who can do this. Not from me.’
‘So, how do you feel—about me?’ Her chin jutted out and her gaze was almost disdainful.
‘Confused, right now. Blindsided, to be honest.’ He should have watched for the signs instead of listening to her telling him she wasn’t crazy and didn’t want anything more.
She laughed, bitter and sharp. ‘You didn’t see it coming? After everything we’ve shared, everything we’ve done, you didn’t think I’d develop feelings for you? Even a little bit?’
‘Of course.’ He should have known that not everyone was as controlled as he was. And yet
confused
was the only way to describe how he felt. She
loved
him. That was big. It did mean something. No one had ever said that to him before. Not even Lizzie. No one.
How the hell was he supposed to react? He wasn’t going to lie to her and swear happy everlasting for ever—he wasn’t going to promise her stuff he didn’t believe in. ‘I... Don’t know. I kind of thought that it wouldn’t get this far.’
* * *
And now Cassie felt like a royal twit. A stupid, pathetic, soppy, hearts and flowers sap—the one thing she’d promised never to be. Forgetting herself and laying her heart out like that for him to stamp on.
Not this sister
.
Staring into his eyes, she looked for something, anything, that told her he felt the same, but he’d slipped back that mask—the one that hid his emotions. Back to his normal, his usual. Cold and alone.
Her heart felt as if it were crumbling. But she was the one who’d broken the rules; she’d let her heart get messed up by him. He’d always been honest and open about where things could go and what he was prepared to give. But somehow it had become more than either of them had expected.
She wasn’t going to beg and she didn’t look like she was about to change his mind any time soon. But, more, she wasn’t about to let him know how much she was stung by this rejection. ‘Well, at least you didn’t nick my stuff, so that’s a bonus. Okay, well, I’ll just go in and get my things.’
‘Wait, I’ll give you a hand.’
‘I can manage.’
Just leave me alone.
But it was his house; he followed up the path. How different this time, as she wandered through his garden, when she went into his empty house. His revelations about his past had explained a lot. Why he didn’t have family stuff, or even anything resembling a home. The guy didn’t know how.
He knew how to compartmentalise his feelings so he wouldn’t get hurt again. Knew where to draw the line before things got difficult. And she’d thought she’d managed to do the same, but he’d grown on her. He might not have stolen her stuff, but he’d definitely stolen a part of her heart.
The beautiful, infuriating, grumpy bastard.
The kitchen was as messy as her head, but together they scooped up the dirty containers and loaded her boxes, ran a sink of scalding water and slid in the pans. Filled the dishwasher. Wiped the counters. Washed down the table, where only a few hours ago he’d been making love to her, where she’d given herself to him—and, she’d believed, he’d given himself to her.
And now she was just that little bit less. She fought back the tears.
He saw her to the door. ‘Okay, then, well, I’ll see you at the wedding.’
‘You bet.’
‘Don’t be late, eh?’
‘Me? Never.’ She winked, unable to say any more past the lump wedged in her throat.
‘Wait.’ He ran his thumb along her mouth; even now, desire clouded his eyes. Then he pressed a kiss on her cheek, so gentle and tender it made her heart almost stop. And even after the humiliation of laying her soul bare, her body still ached for him, wanted his kisses, wanted his touch to linger, wanted him to piece her shattered heart back together. ‘Bye, Cassie. I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, me too.’
He looked away then, his throat moving as he swallowed, his rigid self-control slipping just a little. And that was what made this so damn hard. He had feelings for her, she knew; he liked her, he wanted her, it just wasn’t enough to break through that hardened heart.
TWELVE
‘This is really
good. Better than good—you’ve captured exactly the feeling I was trying to get—it’s not too voyeuristic, but it showcases Jono’s emotions really well.’ Jack stood and made to leave the cutting room but turned back to Billy. Fair’s fair, the man deserved some praise. ‘You’ve impressed me no end this week; this is really shaping up. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I’m going to get off home now. You should too.’
‘Cheers, boss. Have a good wedding.’ Billy grinned and pinked up from ear to ear. Then turned back to the screen and started pressing buttons, too polite to tell his boss what a jerk he’d been.
Leaving Billy to get on with his job had been brilliant. One of Cassie’s better suggestions, for which Jack needed to thank her. His new editor had come up with some great ideas and had almost finished the job, which was just as well because Jack had had nothing forthcoming. Staring at the screen and seeing Cassie’s heartbroken face reflected back hadn’t helped. Neither had drowning his thoughts in beer. Or trying to work into the night to forget her.
Nothing had helped.
He missed her.
Walking out into the large wide corridor overlooking the Thames, he stared down at the boats and ant-sized people. Everyone going about their daily business. Living their lives. Scuttling around. He thought about where Cassie might be—at her flat, prepping for tomorrow, at a job somewhere, in that wreck of a van. Wherever she was, she’d be causing someone a great deal of chaos, and bringing them a hell of a lot of joy too. How could she not?
A sharp ache twisted in his chest—seemed he couldn’t get rid of it. Get rid of the idea of her. The two things were interlinked. The more he missed her, the more he actually, physically hurt. She’d left her smell imprinted on his house, on his clothes. Her voice still rang loud in his head, and as he looked around, everywhere he went, he wanted to catch a glimpse of her colour, of her mess.
Loved her? That he didn’t know. It was too big a call for him. He’d never used the word and to him it had always seemed something too far out of reach.
He made his way outside into the sunshine, hailed a cab. Drove across town, made the taxi-driver swing by Cassie’s street just to catch sight of her house.
And if that wasn’t pathetic he didn’t know what was. He didn’t know how to make things right, whether he could. Whether he had the guts to even try. Because that was what it needed, in the end: hard work, guts and a lot of belief. He could do the first, but he stumbled on the second two.
When the taxi drew up outside his destination he saw a bright smiling face waiting for him in the doorway, such light in her eyes, excitement thrumming from every pore. He paid the cab, jumped out and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and his heart did a little leap. ‘Hey. Sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘Jack! Jack, where’ve you been? Hurry up. We’re just ordering.’ Lizzie ushered him inside the restaurant and he fixed his brotherly smile. Yes, he was looking forward to tomorrow. Of course he’d picked his suit up. Yes, he’d make sure he was there early.
Wow, his sister was getting married. The feeling kind of choked him a little. The end of an era.
After dinner, Lizzie took his arm and walked him to a quiet part of the bar. Given that there was a band starting up, that was no mean feat. She put her hand on his chest. ‘Hey, big brother of mine. Are you okay? You’re not your usual self tonight.’
He found her a smile, not wanting to ruin her big event. ‘Of course I’m okay; my little sister looks so happy, and she’s getting married tomorrow—I feel great. About time someone took you off my hands. I’ve just a lot on my mind.’
‘Let me guess.’ She pretended to think for a moment. ‘The global financial crisis? Hmm. No. World peace? I’m guessing not. A certain redheaded chef who makes a mean roti and dances like...well, like nobody’s watching? Getting hotter?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, Jack, even the mention of her and your whole manner changes.’
‘What do you mean?’ He tried to stand his normal way. Whatever that was.
She laughed. ‘Don’t think I haven’t realised. Seeing you with Cassie at the Carnival. You like her. She clearly likes you, so what’s the problem?’
‘There is no problem.’
‘She’s left you? Oh, God—is she still coming tomorrow?’ Her hand at her mouth, she winced. ‘Sorry, callous.’
‘She’ll be there. Probably late, but there it is.’ He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. Inside him, his gut was like a human washing machine. If he couldn’t tell Lizzie, then he might as well self-destruct right now. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘What? Jack, who has all the answers finally hasn’t got one?’ She stroked his back. ‘Poor baby. Do you love her?’
‘You know me. I don’t do that. I can’t—’
She shook her head. ‘You
didn’t
. I didn’t even know how to love myself. Neither of us could, not for a long time. But Jack, you love me, you took care of me, you gave up so much and gave me more. You can love someone else; you have to give it a try...or what’s the point of everything we went through? You deserve to love someone, and for them to love you back.’
He closed his eyes. What did it mean to love someone? That pieces of him fitted together when Cassie was around? That she made him smile. That the part of his heart that had been closed off felt wide open and full at the same time when he looked at her. That her touch made him feel wanted and needed, excited yet comfortable.
Comfortable. His eyes slammed open again; he’d been there before, too many times, and had his hopes shattered again and again. ‘But what if—?’
Lizzie put her finger over his lips. ‘No. Whatever happens, Jack, you’ll survive it. Hey, what if it does work out? What if you’re happy? Just allow yourself to consider that that might happen. Look at me and Callum—that wasn’t easy; I didn’t want to fall in love with him but the annoying Irish devil persuaded me.’ She looked up into his face; the smile that once upon a time he didn’t think he’d ever see again shone from her. ‘Tell her.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’ He didn’t know what to do or say. Ever since Cassie had dropped the L word bombshell he’d been flailing around, trying to find a name for what he was feeling. He’d thought that walking away was the easier thing to do but it wasn’t. Living every day without her was harder. Damned hard. He didn’t want to do it any more, but he didn’t know what to do to make it right.
‘You know, I’m not sure if I’ve ever said it out loud, but I love you, Jack. I love you. Thank you, big brother, you saved me.’ Lizzie pressed a kiss onto his cheek. ‘Now, go save yourself.’
‘Jeez, no one says I love you for twenty-eight years and then two women say it within a week.’ Maybe there was something in the water. Maybe Lizzie was right. Maybe he could do it. He’d managed to bring up his sister and win awards for a career he’d carved out for himself every painful step of the way. Not being afraid of any barriers, he’d managed a successful life on his own. Yeah, on his own—successful in one aspect and woefully unsuccessful in the part that mattered most.
He’d shied away from emotional connection for so long he hadn’t seen it coming, believed he could control that along with everything else. But the one thing he’d learnt was that control and Cassie were direct opposites.
The thought of her made his heart thrill and ache.
Maybe it was time he took a leaf out of her book and looked into his heart, and was truly honest about what he saw. Surely he could tell a woman how he felt instead of hiding behind decades-old wounds? Surely he could risk his battered heart for her? Because if she wasn’t worth that, then no one was.
* * *
‘Not again. Not again. Not again.’ Cassie pulled up outside the art gallery and breathed out, resisting a sharp toot on the horn to announce her arrival. ‘No, sirree! Not late again. Not even on time, but early. Stick that in your pipe, Jack Bloody Brennan.’
What the hell was she doing? It was sheer madness, coming here to face him again after the humiliation of last week, but she’d made a promise to Lizzie and Callum and she never ever reneged on her promises.
Still, she took a moment to compose herself before she had to walk in and give him a cheery
I don’t care if you broke my heart
smile
. I’m fine.
Because she would be, soon. Although, if the last seven days were anything to go by, soon wasn’t soon enough. The man had thrown her love back in her face and, even though she’d survived other things—losing her hard-earned cash, losing her trust, losing her father—losing Jack was so very, very hard. Every day she woke up with him on her mind, every night she wished she were lying in his arms.
She wished she was wearing something more killer than a chef outfit. That dress from the awards night, for instance. Something more feminine. Just to show him what he was missing. Still, nothing beat a happy smile and a sharp tongue. She climbed out of the van, lifted out some boxes and knocked on the gallery door.
Callum opened it and ushered her into the cavernous space that had been transformed from a dreary soulless room into a magical wedding venue. Metres and metres of white muslin draped like canopies across the ceiling, fairy lights hung at intervals, shedding sparkling white light over the central area. White wooden chairs were set out in one large circle, each with a simple posy of giant daisies attached to the back. In the middle of the circle were two chairs with white velvet cushions. It was so pure, and breathtaking. Cassie’s throat filled. ‘Wow. It’s gorgeous.’
Callum nodded. ‘She’s done a grand job, my Lizzie. She’s also brought her food contribution; it’s in the kitchen. I’ll give you a hand getting things sorted. Kick off’s in a couple of hours or so.’
Which gave Cassie one hundred and twenty minutes to summon calm before her body and brain went into mind melt.
Or, rather, continued on the mind melt downward trajectory. She took a deep breath, grateful that Jack wasn’t here, and tried to concentrate on her job.
And where the hell did that time go? Before she could turn around, the place had started to fill with well-dressed guests, laughing and catching their breath as they stepped into the fairy tale that Lizzie had made. Cassie sent out the two catering students with trays of cocktails and hoped upon hope that Jack wouldn’t seek her out in the kitchen.
But then the band started up with a jazzy version of
Here Comes the Bride
and she just couldn’t resist sticking her nose out to sneak a look. Before she could stop herself, her hand hit her mouth at the sight of the two siblings walking down the petal-strewn aisle into the circle, Lizzie so radiant in her flowing strapless gown and Jack...her heart stalled...so proud and tall and beautiful in his dark suit and tamed hair.
She managed to stop herself from running forward and messing it up, just a little, the only out of control thing about a man so in control. She thought that for a moment he might have looked towards her, but she dipped her eyes away, not wanting to let him see what she knew was still in her eyes. Her love for him.
The wedding was conducted in the circle—a ring within a ring. Such a fitting idea, and then, after tears and wonderful vows, the chairs were cleared to the sides of the room and the band was starting up again. Cassie was kept busy with canapés and the buffet, the cutting of the cake. Speeches. Again, more tears. Applause. General chit-chat and photographs, Jack deep in conversation with a couple, a shorter guy with a beard, the woman pregnant and blooming.
And still Cassie’s eyes followed his back and hid from his gaze. She returned to the kitchen, pulled on her rubber gloves and started to wash up, happy that Lizzie had finally got her fairy tale.
One day...
No. She couldn’t think like that. One wedding and she’d started to believe in it? No, Jack’s rejection had made her even more determined that she would not fall for it all again.
‘Cassie.’ His warm deep voice made her jump, made her hands tremble. She turned around; he’d removed his tie and loosened his shirt top button, damn the man. Did he have to be so startling?
‘Hi.’ She pressed her lips together. What to say to the man who you’d humiliated yourself in front of? Ordinarily, she’d have told him where to get off, but here, now? That would not go down well at a wedding. Plus, he was paying the bill.
‘Jack.’
Lame
.
‘I need to talk to you. But first I need to know the paring knife is under lock and key.’
She pursed her lips. ‘Your lucky day, mate. I didn’t bring it; too much blood does tend to cause a downer on a wedding day.’ She held up the sudsy gloves. ‘I’d offer for you to join me, but I don’t have any your size.’
In other words: go away
.
Undeterred, he stepped into the room, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. He looked sheepish, which was a first for the usually over-confident Jack. ‘I’m a jerk.’
Her heart thumped. ‘Oh, yes, I’m well aware of that.’
‘But I want to try to make amends.’
She steadied herself. The guy was just being nice, because she knew that underneath he was actually an honourable man. So it was annoying that her body had gone into full-on prickly heat hope. ‘I’m waiting.’
‘You see that guy out there—beard, pregnant wife?’ He pointed to the short man from before. What? Strange apology style, but anyway...
‘Yes?’
‘He’s the top dog at the Peregrine film studio in Shepherd’s Bush and he needs a caterer. I’ve told him about you. Expect a call, and a contract to follow shortly after.’
The prickly heat turned into hives. Her anger started to boil up from the pit in her stomach, mixed with humiliation and outright love for the self-confessed jerk. ‘Are you for real? That’s how you make amends? By striding in and doing exactly what I don’t want you to do? Interfering? Taking over? Did you even think of asking me?’
His hands raised, palm up, to calm her, his voice soothing and low. ‘Hey, I wanted to help you. You were trying so hard.’
So difficult to argue in a stage whisper. Outside, the happy couple were chatting to guests, blithely oblivious to World War Three raging in the kitchen—lucky them. ‘Have you not listened to anything I’ve said?’