Haven
By some miracle I’d managed to pull it off. I’d played it cool, pretending I thought him kissing me was no big deal, when of course, I thought it was a huge deal. I’d done it more successfully than he had. He’d kept asking if I was okay and if I wanted to talk about it. I brushed it off, but wondered if his concern masked regret. As soon as he drove out of the car park at the end of the day, I collapsed onto the steering wheel. What the fuck happened? We were fighting, then kissing, and then he was moaning and panting and I was feeling things between my thighs that I’d only read about in books. Shit.
Why had he kissed me? To prove that he could? To demonstrate he could have everything he wanted? Did he want me?
And now it was the weekend and I was going to have to wait until Monday to see him again. A weekend he was probably spending with the glamazon, racing around London in his Aston Martin, tan and gorgeous, drinking champagne, and eating caviar.
I needed to bury the very thought of him. He wasn’t my type. I didn’t like men like him. I liked men who were ambitious and successful, kind and funny.
“So, you seem distracted,” Ash said, jolting me from my thoughts.
“Do I? I’m thinking that I’m twenty-seven and single, yet I’m spending a second Saturday night in a row drunk with my best friend, at home, without the possibility of getting laid.”
“I’ll kiss you later if that makes you feel better,” she offered.
“Let’s see how you’re looking after another bottle of wine.”
“Anyway, we were at Luke’s last weekend getting drunk, so it hasn’t been two Saturday nights in a row drinking at home.”
“Oh, that’s okay then.”
“How’s the Sandy Fox article coming?”
“Terrible. Urgh.” I slumped back onto the sofa. “There is just nothing interesting to say about her. Scratch that. The interesting stuff isn’t very flattering, and of course, we’re Rallegra, so we’re not going to write a take-down piece about Sandy bloody Fox.”
“If Vanity Fair couldn’t stand up to Gwynnie . . .”
“Exactly. She’s not a monster, don’t get me wrong, but really, there’s nothing much there and I want to be getting down and dirty. She spends the whole time flirting with Harry.”
“Is that what the problem is? You don’t like her flirting with licky? He is hot, from what I remember. I drank a lot of wine that night, so everyone looked good.”
“Including his glamazon girlfriend,” I said. “Anyway, why would I care if she flirted with him? I just wish that this wasn’t the article that my future depended on. I asked her about her favorite place she’d visited and she told me it was the Palm hotel in Dubai. I mean, she must have travelled all over the world. How depressing.”
“Maybe they have really good free toiletries.”
“You’re not helping.”
“No, hear me out. Maybe she likes stealing things from hotel rooms. That’s your story—Sandy Fox, superstar and thief of hotel amenities.”
“Don’t give up your day job,” I said and swatted her
“Is licky up for a slice of Miss Fox?”
Despite Sandy being gorgeous and very available to Harry, I didn’t think he was. “I don’t think so.”
“Perhaps it’s serious with the glamazon.”
“Maybe,” I replied, and focused on my wine glass.
“Haven?”
“What?”
“What are you not telling me?” I didn’t know if it was my lack of poker face or the fact Ash had known me twenty years that meant I could never keep a secret from her for very long.
“Harry kinda kissed me.” My heart started thumping against my chest as I said it. Would she think he was ridiculously out of my league?
“He kinda kissed you? Are you not sure? Was it ambiguous? When did this happen?”
“I’m pretty sure he kissed me. On Friday. Outside the studio.” Warmth spread over me as I remembered his breath on my skin, his tongue skimming across my lips.
“And you waited until now to tell me? So what happened? Was it a good kiss? Was it just a kiss? Was there groping? How did you leave it?”
“Do you want me to fill out a questionnaire?” I grinned at her.
“Come on! Tell me.”
“It came out of no-where. And it was in the car park, of course it was just a kiss.” But it hadn’t felt like just a kiss. It had felt more important.
“Wow.”
“Wow what?” Was she going to tell me I was an idiot for letting myself get into that situation?
“Wow, is it going to happen again? Do you want it to?”
My stomach tilted. I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. My body was telling me I wanted it to happen again, I wanted it a lot. But my mind was telling me Harry spelled trouble. “I’m still processing. I don’t really understand why it happened.”
“You don’t understand why people kiss each other?”
I narrowed my eyes at Ash. “You know what I mean.”
“No, actually, I don’t. He clearly likes you. I can’t imagine he goes around kissing every girl he meets.”
“I’m not so sure. He’s used to getting what he wants. With that face and his money? I’m probably the first girl who didn’t fall at his feet as soon as they saw his Aston Martin. Maybe I’m just a challenge.”
“You’re certainly that.”
I threw a cushion at her.
“You didn’t say whether or not you liked him,” Ash said.
I shrugged. “Like I said, I’m still processing. I’m not supposed to like men like him.” Harry seemed dangerous and out of my league. There was plenty of disappointment in life without encouraging it. “I’m not a glamazon like Millie.”
“No, you’re way more beautiful than Millie, you just don’t show it off in the same way. Listen, you don’t often get to the kissing stage with men. You must like him. I think you need to give him a chance. Don’t write him off.”
Ash was right, I didn’t kiss many men. I certainly didn’t feel the passion for other men that I’d felt for Harry in that moment but he had a girlfriend and so whatever I felt didn’t matter.
I did a pretty good job of distracting myself all weekend, but I struggled to get to sleep on Sunday night. I couldn’t wait to get to the office to see Harry. I wondered if he still wanted to talk about our kiss.
I tried not to seem too interested as people filed into the conference room for our Monday morning meeting. The last few meetings we’d sat opposite each other, but as I looked up from my to-do list, it was Emily who had taken the seat in front of me. I quickly scanned the faces of those around the rest of the table. No Harry. I hadn’t brought my phone with me. Had he texted? Or emailed? I tried to think back to Friday. Had he said that he would see me today? Maybe he’d left and was never coming back? He was only filling in, after all. My heart began to race and I swept my hands across my hair, smoothing the stray hair back into my bun.
“So, Haven, I thought you could give us an update on the Sandy Fox piece. How’s it developing?” Robert said.
Shit, that was the last thing I needed. I reached for my Diet Coke and took a swig. “It’s going okay. We’re getting a good amount of time with her and she’s very friendly. I just need to find a good angle.”
“This isn’t the New York Times. You’re not doing an expose,” Emily said from across the table. My stomach clenched. Emily had once told me I acted like I was too good for Rallegra, but the opposite was true—I always felt like an imposter amongst the shiny, glamorous, upbeat staff. I never felt good enough. I guess that was part of the reason I wanted the promotion so badly. It would be evidence that I belonged.
“I think what Emily meant to say was, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Take lots of notes. I’m sure Paris will give you more insight.”
I’d sent Robert an email about our invitation to Paris over the weekend. It sounded like he’d approved it. My stomach clenched at the thought. I’d not been to France since I was a student. Going to interview Sandy in Paris, with Harry . . . I had to force back a smile. It did sound romantic.
Robert didn’t mention Harry, and neither did anyone else. Where was he? I couldn’t wait to get back to my desk to check my messages.
When the meeting finally broke, I quickly went to retrieve my phone. Nothing. Bloody hell. We weren’t due to be back on set until Thursday, but even so. I decided to text him.
Haven: Where are you?
I slung my phone into my skirt pocket and tried to keep myself busy. I had three articles to check. Two were from Marie, and she’d never written anything for me before, so I wanted to take my time with them.
I rounded the corner back to my desk with a coffee in my hand. I glanced at the desk Harry was using, checking if he’d arrived late. He hadn’t and I grinned as I remembered the non-apology apology latte I’d bought him on his first day. I caught the sound of Emily’s voice in the meeting room, and slowed down when I heard my name.
“And now she’s going to Paris? It’s because she’s ugly and dresses like she’s five years old. Robert told me that Sandy didn’t want anyone pretty interviewing her, so he had limited options and was forced to put her on it because I was too attractive.”
What was I hearing? It sounded like she was talking about me but . . .
“She’s lording it over us. She’s off to Paris. Poor Harry, having to spend time with that thing.”
My heart was thumping through my chest. I knew they didn’t like me, but I’d never heard anything like this. It was so venomous and so unfair. I was frozen to the spot. My eyes began to water. I couldn’t go back to my desk without running into poisonous Emily so I turned and headed out of the door and toward the back stairwell before anyone could see me cry. As soon as I was through the fire exit, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I didn’t have a tissue so I pulled the sleeves of my gray turtleneck down over my hands and held them under my eyes to catch the tears. There was nothing I could do to stop them from falling and taking my mascara with them.
What had I ever done to Emily? She’d never taken the time to get to know me. She’d decided I wasn’t good enough, or that I thought I was too good. I wasn’t sure which. Full body sobbing came next, I just gave into it and let it happen. No one could hear me, I was the only one that ever used the stairs. I stumbled down a few flights to get farther away from their poison. Is it true what they were saying? Did I get the Sandy Fox interview because I’m ugly? I was so sick of putting up with their sniping. I didn’t get it right all the time, and my lips got loose, but did I deserve her being so nasty? Just because I didn’t want to go out with them on a Friday night or waste half the day talking about the latest celebrity sighting didn’t mean I was evil or didn’t have feelings that could be hurt.
I dug into my pocket, retrieved my phone and dialed Ash’s number.
“Hey,” I said.
“What’s the matter?” Ash asked immediately. I couldn’t hide anything from her.
Instead of sympathy Ash started laughing when I told her what had happened.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s fucking hilarious. As if anyone could think you were ugly. She’s just jealous.”
“They’re always taking the piss out of what I wear.”
“Well that’s because for some reason you dress like a boarding-school virgin while you’re at work. But that’s okay. That doesn’t make you ugly, it makes you a conservative dresser. They’re being ridiculous.”
That started a fresh round of sobbing. I felt so sorry for myself and I was so sick of feeling like a leper. I just wanted to do a good job. I didn’t understand what I’d done to deserve Emily’s hatred. I was exhausted. Tired of trying so hard, working long hours, making everything as perfect as I could. It just didn’t seem worth it. The downstairs fire door crashed open and I froze. My tears were on hold.
“Haven, are you still there?” Ash asked.
“Shhhh. There’s someone here,” I whispered.
“Where are you?”
“In the back stairwell. No one comes here—not normally.”
“Who is it?”
I was stuck. I couldn’t go back into the office because I was sure I looked like a raccoon that had just been run over. Footsteps began to clip the metal stairs. Shit.
I turned to face the wall with some vain hope that if I couldn’t see whoever was coming, they wouldn’t be able to see me. The footsteps got louder and then stopped.
“Haven?” asked a familiar voice behind me.
“I’ve got to go,” I said to Ash and hung up.
“Hi, Harry.” I turned around and kept my eyes fixed on the floor. At least when he’d caught me wearing pig pajamas I’d been drunk, so he hadn’t been around when the embarrassment set in. Now, I got to feel it in real time.
“Haven? What—I—are you okay?”
I nodded and continued to stare at my shoes. My virginal boarding-school shoes. A shudder of sobs gathered in my belly and my tears started anew.
“Jesus, what’s wrong? I hope this isn’t because I missed the meeting this morning.”
I pathetically attempted to punch him, but he grabbed my hand and pulled his arms around me, holding me to him.
Fuck, I was confused. Upset, but slightly happy at the same time. I wanted to laugh and cry. It was so good to have him here, close to me, comforting me.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing.” I gulped and I put my arms around his waist.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. It doesn’t feel like nothing,” he said, stroking my back.
We stood for ages, him rhythmically moving his hands up and down, my breath slowly returning to normal. A couple of times I tried to move away from him a little. He just pulled me tighter.
“Tell me what happened,” he said again.
I shook my head into his chest. It felt good, too good. I could get used this. I twisted and he loosened his arm around me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“Don’t apologize. Is there anything I can do? Want me to kick his butt?”
“What?” I looked at him. “No, it’s not anything like that. It’s work crap.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched me with those pale-blue eyes. “Don’t. If you’re nice to me, I won’t be able to hold it together,” I said. “You should go inside.”
“Okay, well, if you want to talk, I’m around.”
I snorted. Very attractive. He was never around.
“Today I’m around, and I’m always at the end of a phone.”
My stomach tilted. He was being so kind. No one ever saw me like this. No one except Ash and Luke. Since my parents died, I hadn’t let anyone else in. Harry had seen a side of me that was reserved for those I allowed close to me.
“Thanks. I’m fine,” I said as I swiped my eyes with the sleeves of my sweater and took a deep breath.
“If you’re interested, a little gallery is showing some of my photographs on Wednesday, you could come along with a friend or two if you wanted. It might cheer you up.” He pulled out his wallet and handed me a card.
“Okay, so this is why you keep disappearing.” I smiled at him.
“No, well, I suppose a little, but I don’t need to be here all the time. I’m just helping out. This isn’t my full-time job. Don’t bust my balls about it.”
I shrugged. He was being so nice, I shouldn’t be giving him a hard time. I wanted things to go back to normal between us, to before he’d seen me so open and upset. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Well, you know what happens when you roll your eyes. I’m only giving you a pass this time because of the tears. You do it again and I’ll kiss you again.” He grinned and his eyes did that crinkling thing.
Warmth radiated from my stomach and spread everywhere. I couldn’t look at him. The thought of him kissing me again made me want to touch him. I reached out and tugged on his jacket sleeve. “Thank you for being so nice to me.”
He moved closer and his hand found the back of my neck. He planted a kiss on the top my head. “Are you okay now?”
My heart racing, I managed to reply, “Yes, you go. I’m going to splash some water on my face. I’ll be a minute.”
“Come find me later if you want to talk.”
I nodded and he headed on up the stairs.
I slumped against the wall. I peered at the card he’d given to me. It was nice of him to invite me, although it was probably just because he felt sorry for me. But maybe I’d go if Ash or Luke wanted to come with me. I’d like to see how Harry spent his time outside the office.
Jake
The exhibition of my photography had definitely not been my idea, neither had the party to mark the new stuff I’d produced. I felt like a fraud standing amongst the artsy crowd. What was I doing? I should never have agreed to it. I took photographs because I enjoyed it, not because I wanted people to buy them. I had no interest in making money from them, and I would never consider myself an artist. I was just a cop’s kid. Back in Chicago, my school friends would have kicked the shit out of me if I’d had any interests outside of baseball and beating the crap out of nerdy, artistic kids. Gay Dave, the gallery owner and my friend from college had formed a dual pronged attack with Beth. Eventually I’d given in and agreed to the showing just to get some peace.
“This is amazing,” Beth whispered, scanning the gallery space.
“It’s ridiculous,” I said. “I have no idea how I let you talk me into it.”
“Enjoy it, big brother. You can go back to telling me it’s ridiculous later, but for now, just bask.”
“I don’t bask,” I said, irritated.
“Don’t we all know it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you should learn to smell the roses a little more.”
Beth was always nagging me to kick back and relax. But kicking back wasn’t what got me up in the morning. It wasn’t how I was wired.
“Just because you’re doing it in your head doesn’t mean I can’t hear you growling at me.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it means.”
“I’ve known you too long, you can’t hide that from me. Stop it. Is Robert coming?”
“I invited him.” Well, technically he’d invited himself.
“Good. And other friends?”
“I don’t have other friends.” I’d asked Haven to come before I’d thought through the consequences, and now I was kind of embarrassed I had. Still, part of me was hoping she would come. I wanted to get to know her better.
“You know half of London, New York and Chicago. Stop being such a grump.”
“Just because I know them doesn’t mean they’re my friends.”
“How are you going to sell your work if you’re not going to be your own best publicist? Tell me you invited people.”
“Haven’t you been listening? I’m not interested in selling my photographs.”
“You’re impossible.”
“No, I just like my day job. This is something I do for fun. I agreed to the exhibition to get you and Dave off my back.”
“Well, it just means we’ll have to arrange another one for the summer. By then I’ll have hacked into your computer and stolen your contacts list and emailed all of them about my supremely talented brother.”
I couldn’t help but grin. It was so nice to see her like this—happy and proud.
“If it makes you feel better, I did invite a couple of people from Rallegra. I don’t know if they’ll show, but just so you know, I’m not a total grump.” Haven hadn’t mentioned my invitation so I had no idea if she’d actually come.
Beth reached up and mussed my hair, so I did the same in return, which led to her backing off and yelping as intended. I started to laugh and she punched me. Dave came to my rescue.
“Darlings, no fighting. We’ve not drunk enough yet. What do you think of your show?”
“He’s being a spoiled brat about the whole thing,” Beth said.
A voice came from over my shoulder. “Well there’s a shock.” I spun around and found Haven grinning.
“Hey, you made it,” I said to her.
“Very astute.” She rolled her eyes. God, it was infuriating and cute in equal measure.
Beth poked me in the ribs. “Beth, Dave, this is Haven, Haven, this is my very annoying sister Beth and my friend Dave.” She looked beautiful. Her hair was down again. I wondered for a second whether she’d worn it down specifically for me. And she was wearing red. Wow. She seemed softer and more relaxed than I normally saw her. I couldn’t help but grin.
“This is Luke and Ash. You’ve met Ash before.” Her cheeks colored slightly and I grinned at the memory of her drunk in her pajamas in the street.
“Mr. Aston Martin, nice to meet you,” Ash said.
“You see.” I turned to Beth. “The DB9, basking.”
She ignored me and introduced herself to Luke and Ash and I shook Luke’s hand. I couldn’t work out how he fit in to the picture. Ash was the best friend, that I understood. Was Luke the gay in their relationship, or her boyfriend? If she was involved with someone, she wouldn’t have kissed me back, and she surely wouldn’t have brought him here. Right?
“Sorry to be a drag, but I need to introduce you to some people, Harry,” Dave interrupted our introductions.
“No. I warned you about this.”
“Don’t be a brat,” Haven said.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Beth agreed.
“So who’s the blonde?” Dave asked as he dragged me through the crowd.
“A girl I work with. The one on the Sandy story.”
“Really? Sandy didn’t mention her. Probably because she’s gorgeous and you’re so obviously interested. It must be sending Sandy into a tailspin not having your full attention.”
“I’m not interested, stop trying to make trouble.”
Dave raised his eyebrows at me.
“What do you think of the guy? Does he play for your team?” I asked.
“Luke?” he clarified.
I nodded.
“Unfortunately not. Although I might try and turn him, he’s very handsome.”
I scowled at Dave. So Luke wasn’t gay. And I wasn’t a believer in the theory that men and women could be friends. He was either in Ash or Haven’s underwear—or wanted to be.
“Let me introduce you to Daniel Armitage and his lovely wife Leah. Daniel, Leah, this is Jake Harrison, star of our show tonight.”
“You’re very talented,” Leah said.
“Thanks. This isn’t really my thing. I just do it for fun,” I said.
“Oh, you’re one of those are you?” Leah asked.
“One of what?”
“I’ve got one here,” she said, squeezing her husband’s arm. “Super talented and successful, but too modest to see it. Well, we love your work.”
I nodded, hating the attention but trying not to be rude and excused myself. I scanned the room, trying to spot Haven. She wasn’t where I’d left her. I wanted to get to the bottom of who Luke was to her.