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“Like, ‘seeing’ him seeing him? Or just business lunches?”
“It started as business but they’ve been hanging out on the weekends and what not. I’m surprised she hasn’t told you yet.”
You and me both.
“He seems like a decent guy,” Darren said, clearly trying to play the peacemaker. “I’ve done some work for him in the past and got on with him quite well. Alastair knows him from years ago.” He paused and smiled sheepishly. “That’s not news to you though. They went to university together at Oxford.”
I stopped mid chew. “They did? I didn’t know that.”
“No? Brent was a year ahead of him. They played rugby together and were pretty friendly until something happened.” He shrugged. “I always assumed Brent was jealous of Alastair’s social ranking what with the family business and all. He seemed quite determined to make a success out of his real estate venture to steal some of the thunder from the Holden clan. Not sure why though, since they do media and what not. Seemed a bit odd to me.”
I kept eating my sandwich in the most nonchalant way possible as Darren continued spilling details about Brent. Nothing about it was earth shattering, just interesting enough to fill some of the holes that Alastair left out. I felt better having a clearer picture of their past interactions outside the sphere of Alastair’s relationship with Olivia.
“Your fiancé is a frosty one to try and be friends with Lia. And I say that with no disrespect. Whatever happened between him and Brent must have been huge because they were like brothers at university. At least that’s what I hear.”
The fact that Darren loved to gossip could work in my favor. My curiosity was insatiable and anytime I learned a new nugget about Alastair it left me craving more. For the time being, I chose to stifle the questions and just enjoy the rest of our lunch.
“You have exactly twenty-four hours to tell your best friend about that ring, lass,” he said on our walk back to the building. “I can’t keep a secret like that from Steph forever. We live together. She’s up my arse all the time wanting to know if Alastair has told me anything. I’m surprised I haven’t gone mad yet from all her pestering.”
I laughed heartily as we walked into the elevator. “You’re a saint, Darren.”
“True that.” He winked and gave me a little wave when we reached his floor.
Even though my dealings with Brent had always been a little stressful, I decided to have a little fun at Stephanie’s expense and texted her when I returned to my office.
1:43pm How big is it?
1:47pm ??????????
1:48pm Brent’s wonder stick
My desk phone rang within seconds.
“Yes?”
“Amelia Grace Meyers,” she hissed, “you’re not funny.”
“Sorry.” I laughed. “I couldn’t help myself. What are you doing after work?”
“Finding a new roommate.”
I laughed even harder. “Aw, don’t be mad at Darren. You know he can’t stay quiet about big news like that forever.”
“There is no big news. We’ve hung out and stuff. It’s really nothing.”
“Alright. Whatever you say.”
“Lia,” she whined, “he’s not even my type. He’s too buttoned up and proper. I like ’em carefree and wild.”
“You’re protesting too much.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “We had dinner a couple of times. That’s it.”
I tapped a pen on my desk, wanting to be judicious with my words. “Listen, um. Just, you know, be—”
“I know,” she snapped. “You hate him and Alastair hates him so I have to hate him too.”
“That’s not what I was going to say. I just…I know how you are when people say negative things about—”
“Oh my God,” she grumbled. “Do you really think we sit around and talk about Alastair like he’s some fascinating subject? Jesus Christ. He’s your boyfriend. He has a bad history with Brent and his sister. I could give three flying shits about all that because it’s really none of my business. You need to stop convincing yourself that your relationship with Alastair fucking Holden is the end all, be all of the world.”
I sat in stunned silence, confused as to how this conversation took such a sour turn. When she was heated, Stephanie could be irrational.
“Fuck,” she muttered. “Look, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that. I’m PMS-ing and this deadline for creative is stressing me out and” —she sighed— “you know I love Alastair. And I love you. And you’re far from being the girl who thinks their relationship is the most important thing on the planet to everyone else. Did I cover them all?”
“I’m coming down to bring you Pamprin.”
“Smart ass. I’d rather have ice cream.” She paused. “I really am sorry.”
“Wow.” I snickered. “You hate apologizing so that PMS must be severe.”
”And yet you continue to test my limits, Amelia Grace,” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “We should get together this weekend and do something fun. Maybe we could take the train into Edinburgh for some lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Fantastic. I gotta run. We’ll talk later.”
Shaking my head at Stephanie, I placed the phone in its cradle and emailed my sister to give her a quick update on how I was doing. I also promised to come visit her soon. I flirted with the idea of calling my mom but decided to wait until this weekend. She’d most likely want a detailed report on how everything was going here and wouldn’t take too kindly to being ushered off the phone after a brief conversation.
Eyeing the silver envelope again, I finished reading the invitation for Olivia’s bridal shower. The Hotel du Vin? I did a quick search online and learned it was a luxury boutique hotel in the West End. It looked quite lovely from the photos.
Maybe I should go.
I exorcized the thought from my mind before it had a chance to fester and grow. The last thing I wanted was to spend time with that girl.
* * *
Steady rain tapped against the windows, its delicate rhythmic dance relaxing me as I walked into the living room. Being alone in this big house put me on edge a little but only because I was still getting used to its size and some of the weird noises it made late at night. I decided against watching TV and chose to be nosey. Seeing as Alastair kept decorations to a bare minimum, there wasn’t much to see. Yes, the earth tones that drenched the room were gorgeous and luxurious but aside from the framed photos I’d put out the other night there wasn’t much here that screamed him.
I ran my fingers along a gold key that sat in a small crystal dish on one of the shelves while looking at some of his books. They were mostly reference books about various financial topics. Almost lost among them was a book that appeared to have no title on its spine.
“What’s this,” I mused, pulling it off the shelf. The soft, dark leather was old and worn, so I assumed it had to be a favorite novel of his or something. Opening it, I discovered it was an old diary. I saw the name Rose Taylor Holden handwritten in the front. Though small, I felt its weight in my hands after seeing his mother’s name. I scanned the shelf again, hoping to find another hidden treasure. One by one, they made themselves known; a tattered children’s book, an old photography manual, a comic book about someone named Moven Marvin.
The closer I looked, the more I could see that he did keep pieces of himself in this house. He just kept them hidden and protected, like he did with everything else.
A surge of love flowed through me as I returned the books to their proper places. What I first assumed to be nondescript decorations must have belonged to his parents. Every little figurine or bookend or delicate vase must be something from his childhood home.
His well-versed ability to show the world only what he wanted them to see extended to the privacy of his own house but was so subtle it went unnoticed. I trotted off to the bedroom and grabbed my phone.
10:49pm I miss you
11:02pm The plane is fueled and ready. Fly here now
11:03pm Wish I could
11:07pm You can. I’ll handle Archer
11:10pm Next time, Holden. You’re busy with work anyway. I’d be bored
11:11pm Not if I can help it
11:14pm Now you’re just teasing me
11:16pm Are you in bed?
11:18pm Yep
11:21pm Dream of me x
Curling up on the mattress, I hugged his pillow tight and smiled.
CHAPTER FIVE (#udc4d14b7-1f7c-5487-954c-55962bec609a)
“Why didn’t you call me as soon as it happened?” Stephanie shrieked, staring at my hand. The handful of people standing to our left on the sidewalk gave her a dirty look. She didn’t care one bit and carried on. “Jesus Christ, it’s Friday. You’ve known all week and didn’t say anything. I mean, what’s the point of being your official-best-friend-unofficial-big-sister if you don’t tell me the important things?”
Shivering, she pulled the jacket around her body tighter and shook her head. Her jet black hair had grown even longer, nipping at her shoulders like a swath of sultry, dark silk.
I gazed at the diamond, not bothered by her dramatics. “I’m telling you now. Before telling my actual flesh and blood sister and before telling my parents.”
“But you told Darren?”
“Hey, I called to see if you were free for lunch and you sent him in your place. Don’t blame me.”
She started to say something then stopped, knowing full well I was right. I smirked.
“Darren is so dead,” she muttered. “Did you set a date?”
“No.”
She flailed her arms. “Why not? We need to start planning this wedding immediately.”
I didn’t have the heart to quell her excitement…yet. She rummaged through her purse while spouting off all sorts of suggestions for a venue, a dress, a DJ, honeymoon destinations and photographers. When she ventured into the realm of having two weddings in two countries I had to put a stop to the insanity.
“I have an idea,” I interrupted her, putting my hands up. “How about Alastair and I enjoy being engaged for awhile before I scare the crap out of him with your cyclone of ideas and suggestions?”
“You’ve been engaged since July. How much longer do you need to enjoy it?”
“Steph.” I gave her a stern look.
“Fine.” She folded her arms. “But I’m throwing you an engagement party and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Her eyes widened. “Your birthday is next week. Two parties!”
“Oh my God,” I snorted. “You’re out of control.”
She threw her head back in an exaggerated sigh and followed me toward the cafe to grab some coffee. Before I reached the door half a dozen guys holding cameras jumped up from one of the small tables out front and blocked my path. They all started snapping photos and talking at once.
“Let’s see the ring,” one shouted.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Are you pregnant?” another one yelled in my face.
Frozen with shock, I stared at them.
“Hey, leave her alone douche nozzle.” I heard Stephanie’s voice from behind me, then felt her grab my arm and yank me into the cafe. “Don’t those ass hats have any concept of personal space?”
Some of the people inside the cafe pointed and mumbled God knows what to each other. I shoved my left hand into my coat pocket. So this is how it starts.
A hard knock on the window startled me, rattling my now frayed nerves. I turned and saw yet another photographer snap pictures through the glass. When he finished, he smiled and walked off. Every eye in the cafe was now on me.
“Show’s over people,” Stephanie said, glaring at some woman in a brown pantsuit. “Don’t you all have jobs to get to or something?”
I heard a few people mutter and was relieved to see them all returning to their morning routines.
Stephanie, the gem that she was in situations like this, diverted my attention from the paparazzi by filling me in on her job. Not only had her campaign designs for Pulse been a huge hit, she’d also been tapped to design the ads for a new perfume and a new clothing boutique. She practically glowed telling me all about it.
“Cassie told me if I keep going at this pace I’ll have her job in six months.”
I laughed. “Try to remember us little people when you’re skyrocketing to the top.”
“Stop it. What about you? How’s everything at the show?”
“So far, so good. Julian’s a trip.” I tapped my nails on the counter. “I think he’s paranoid though. He seems to believe Sam and Robbie are out to replace him with some guy from London. I can’t see why he would think that. Sam is very focused on improving the show and Robbie is one of the most talented producers I’ve come across.”
“Paranoia runs deep with those on-air people. You know how I feel about their constant neediness and always having to be reassured that they’re the best and nobody else compares and blah, blah, blah. I’ve said it before. You’re a saint to put up with that crap day in and day out. I’m surprised you don’t keep a bottle of wine at your desk just in case.”
“Maybe I should.”
“So, do you think you’ll stay there once your contract is up? I mean, you were pretty adamant about only wanting it to be for three months but that seems a little weird to me. You can’t not work. You’ll go insane from the boredom.” She paid for the coffee and we walked back out onto the sidewalk.
I did a quick scan of my surroundings to make sure no other photographers jumped out at me. A few people still stared a little too long.
“I don’t know. I like doing the whole television thing but I’m starting to get burned out, you know? I never thought I’d be doing this for as long as I have.”
“Six years isn’t that long.”
“Oh no? Working in TV news can be soul sucking, trust me.”
“What else do you want to do?”
