Chapter Twenty-Six
I hadn't heard a word from Beck since the day he'd stormed out of his office. My extended contract was nearing its end, and quite frankly, I couldn't wait until it did. Except, I had to get through a client dinner that evening. The only saving grace was that it was unlikely Beck would be there. Tony had hinted it would be just him. And me. Which didn't reassure me in the slightest.
When he'd first mentioned it at the office, I had thought it was strange Tony would want me there. He'd been vague about his reason, but then he had said I could claim it as overtime…Did it really matter why? Plus, I'd get to try out the desserts at a flashy restaurant in Manchester that I could never afford to eat at otherwise. Maybe I could blog about it on my website. People were always posting pictures of food on social media.
I checked my reflection in the mirror and wondered for the hundredth time if I should have bought something new. Something a little dressier than my well-worn LBD. But to be honest, I didn't understand why Tony wanted me at this dinner anyway. I was only a temp. And one that wouldn't be working for the company much longer.
The mystery firm whose account I had been working on would be there, Tony said, and he wanted me to “schmooze them”—his words. I don't think he realised I couldn't schmooze—didn't know how to.
And then there was Beck. Who'd been acting strange ever since I'd seen him with that woman. The one he swore was a client, except they seemed to know each other too well. The look she'd given me had seemed off too. It wasn't the look of a client. More a predatory stay-away-from-him mama bear look. Which was weird.
Shaking out my hands, I blew out a breath. There was no reason to be this nervous. Except I hated professional dinners at fancy restaurants. Not that I'd been to a lot, but, you know. A horn blared from outside and a glance out of the bedroom window confirmed the taxi Tony had arranged was waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and hurried down the stairs.
When it pulled up outside what looked like an office block I double-checked the address before I climbed out. Took the lift to the second floor. The doors slid open into a funky yet swish space. A steel-wrapped reception desk was straight ahead of me. Parquet floors gleamed under the overhead lights that reflected off the metal ceiling tiles. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed what looked like a balcony garden filled with potted plants and even a white picket fence.
The area behind the reception desk was crowded and noisy. Scanning the faces of the people around me, I jumped as a hand wrapped around my elbow and urged me back towards the lift.
“What are you doing here?”
The words were hissed into my ear, but I'd recognised Beck before he even spoke as his familiar scent wrapped around me. Yanking my arm from his grasp, I glared up at him. “Tony asked me to be here. I'm just doing as I'm told.” Beck scowled at me as I hurled his own words back at him.
“You can't be here. Not tonight.”
Before I could think of a response to throw back at him his phone rang.
“Shit.” He retrieved it from his jacket pocket. Glancing at the screen he said, “Wait here. I have to take this. But then we need to talk.”
And once again, he disappeared on me. Through the door and outside onto the balcony. I didn't know what Beck's issue was with me being at the restaurant, but I was there to do a job and leave as quickly as I could.
I threaded my way through the crowds until I spotted Tony in the corner. He smiled when he noticed me, and then Beck joined us. Except he didn't smile. If anything, he looked panicked before he pressed his lips together and glanced away. He leant down and spoke to Tony before he stalked off again.
Okay. Definitely still acting weird and I didn't know why. And if I was honest, a little hurt. It was like he'd done a one-eighty since the night of his parents' anniversary party. And the morning after it. Maybe that had scared him. But he was the one who'd invited me. Who had brought up the conversation of us waiting. Implied we had a future together.
“Kimberly,” Tony said as his gaze dropped to my chest.
My eyes are up here, arsehole. “Tony.”
“We're waiting on the table and our client isn't here yet. Can I get you a drink?”
Our client? “Thanks. I'll have a small white wine.” Because asking for the whole bottle probably wasn't appropriate at a work dinner.
As he made his way to the bar, I scanned the throng of people around me searching for Beck. Instead, I found the face of the last person I'd been expecting to see. She grinned when she saw me staring and made her way over towards me. The woman I'd seen Beck with. His client. Tony handed me a glass of wine at the same moment she stopped beside me.
“Kyle had to make a phone call. He won't be long. Kimberly, have you met Kyle's wife, Sarah?”
The room receded to the point that all I could see was Tony. And her. Full red lips curled up, dark eyes twinkling beneath a midnight black strand of her fringe artfully draped across her forehead. The chatter and clinking of glasses replaced by the sound of my blood racing instead. Dizziness made me reach out to hold on to something. Someone's arm. I turned straight into Beck's—Kyle's—gaze. He reached out to steady me and I took a step back from him.
Shaking my head, I said, “No. I don't think I've met his wife before.”
Beck paled, his eyes flicking between me and his…wife? What the fuck? His hand dropped and there it was. Proof. Gold wedding band glinting under the overhead lights. How could I have missed that before? No. I shook my head. I hadn't. Not even a tell-tale sign of him having worn one recently had marked his finger. I remembered checking his hand at the airport when we first met.
“Kimberly, I—”
I swear to God, if he was going to say he could explain, I would slap him. “Excuse me.” Elbowing my way through the other customers got me a few sharp glances but I didn't care. My stomach was clawing its way up my throat and I needed to find the ladies room before it escaped.
I rushed down the hall from the reception desk to where I had seen them on my way in. Pushed through the outer door and straight into a cubicle, with just enough time to lock the door behind me, then leaned over the toilet as I heaved. Oh, God. I'd slept with a married man. Twice. My brow clammy with sweat, I heaved again and then sank to my knees on the cold hard tile floor. Reached over to flush the toilet and pressed the back of my other hand against my mouth, hoping I was done.
His fucking client. I leaned back against the cubicle door. Christ, was anything that came out of the man's mouth ever true? He'd lied about being married. Even after I'd seen them together, he'd lied about who she was.
I had to get out of there. No way was I in any state to talk to anyone, let alone try and schmooze a client. I didn't care. Tony could sack me if he wanted to. If I didn't beat him to it and resign.
My knee cracked as I kneeled up on the hard floor, then stumbled to my feet and out of the cubicle. Pulled the main door of the ladies' room open slightly to peer along the corridor. Thankfully, it was empty. I hurried down the hallway and back towards the lift. Jabbed the call button repeatedly because of course, that would make it come quicker.
As I stepped outside, the cool night air hit my damp forehead. Taxi. I needed a taxi. I ran around to the front of the office block and yanked open the door of the first taxi in the queue. Sliding into the back seat I pulled the door closed behind me a little harder than needed.
“Marsdon. Can you take me to Marsdon, please?” The driver glanced over his shoulder at me.
“Are you all right, love?”
“I'm fine I just need to get home. As fast as you can.” He started the engine, and I twisted around in the seat to look out of the back window.
“What's the address?”
“Number four Sweetloves Lane. By the canal.”
“Oh, I know that area. My gran used to live not far from there.”
I tuned him out, so not in the mood for small talk. A figure appeared outside the front door of the restaurant and I slid down in the seat. I doubted it was Beck. Kyle. Whatever the hell name he was going by. I'm sure he was too busy with his wife.
Then the taxi finally pulled away from the kerb and I closed my eyes. Trying to shut the whole night out as though it hadn't happened.
***
As the taxi pulled away from the house, I locked the front door behind me. Even slid the bolt across the top for good measure. Kicked off my shoes and trudged upstairs. Climbed under the duvet, not bothering to undress.
On the way home, my mind had gone numb, only able to focus on getting the hell away from there. But curled up under the covers, I knew why Beck had told me I couldn't be there. Not when he was with his wife.
Every moment spent with Beck was replayed in slow motion. The moment we met on the plane. I'd believed the explanation of his name but then again, I'd believed him when he said she was a client. The way he'd reacted when I told him I would be staying on at the office.
Did he want me out of the way so I couldn't cross paths with his wife? The anniversary party. Surely his parents couldn't know he was married? They wouldn't have been so pleased to meet me if they did, would they? Had he lied to his parents too? His sister? Did anyone know Beck? Did he even know who he was with all the lies he'd told?
I groaned and rolled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling that I could barely see in the darkened room. The hours we'd spent in my kitchen together. When I thought I was getting to know him. A tear escaped my eye, running down my cheek to soak into the pillow. Had those times been lies too? I thought he'd cared about me. God, I was such a fool.
He was busy lying to me whilst I was busy falling for him.