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The Forbidden, Page 21

Jodi Ellen Malpas


  heartache and hurt? What we have is easy. Aside from the limited time we have together, it’s all rather easy. Too easy, which makes it harder to take the steps that will undoubtedly change that. I don’t know if I’m ready for the backlash.

  What sane woman gets herself caught up in an affair? What woman with any self-respect and integrity would venture there? A woman who’s in love. That’s who. They say you can’t help who you fall for. I wholeheartedly believe that now.

  I remember how much it hurt to fight the feelings, pushing Jack away and shutting down. I’m so frightened by the prospect of him telling Stephanie that he’s leaving her. I’m frightened that she will convince him to stay and work on their marriage. That her emotional blackmail will get the better of him again. That terrifies me the most.

  I see her in my mind’s eye, hysterical and devastated, begging him not to go. There’s a knife in her hand, held on her wrist. I feel guilty. Jack will feel guilty. Guilt has a way of influencing your decision. It’s easier to succumb to guilt and disregard what your heart is telling you.

  “I’ll see you next Friday at Colin’s launch,” he says on a hushed whisper. “We’ll do something after, yes?”

  I nod into his shoulder, unable to feel excited about it. Next Friday feels like eons away.

  Jack holds me in his arms, seeming unprepared to release me, so I gently break away from him and reach up, giving him a little kiss on his cheek. “See you then,” I say, and then walk away, feeling him watching every step I take until I close the door behind me.

  Keep it together, I tell myself. Breathe through it. I find my way out onto the street and quickly find a wall to perch on to gather myself. I don’t know how much longer I can see him like that. How much longer I can keep walking away.

  “Annie?”

  I glance to my right and find Lizzy approaching. “Hey!” I shoot up, way too quickly, and I sound way too pleased to see her, too. I glance around, panicked. “What are you doing around here?”

  She frowns at me, and I strain a fake smile through my guilty face. “I have a dinner date.”

  “Here?” I ask. Of all the fucking hotels in London, she’s having a date here? At this particular time?

  “Yes, here.” She smiles through an even deeper frown. “What are you doing here?”

  “Had a meeting with a client,” I blurt, shrugging. I’m behaving strangely, and it isn’t escaping her notice.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Oh fuck, she has to go into the hotel. What are the chances of her and Jack crossing paths? I don’t know, but I can’t risk it. Yet I have no clue what to fucking do about it, either.

  At that very second, I see Jack coming down the steps of the hotel, and I scream in my head for him to turn around and go back. He looks up, smiling when he sees me a few feet away. My eyes go around, trying to silently tell him to pay attention to who’s with me.

  His steps falter, and his smile falls. But my attempt to warn him doesn’t register in time, and Lizzy starts to turn around. “Jack?” she asks.

  Jack’s face is a picture. It’s so bloody obvious, and Lizzy must see it. How the fucking hell am I going to get out of this one? It’s too much of a coincidence that I’m here and Jack’s here, even if we’re working together. Why would we be meeting here?

  Jack seems to gather himself quickly. “Hi, Lizzy. And Annie’s here, too! You girls having dinner?”

  I’m utterly stunned by his coolness. How? “No,” Lizzy says slowly, looking at me. I strain a smile. “We just bumped into each other.” Her eyes are accusing, and I die on the inside. “What are the chances of you two being at the same hotel?” She cocks her head in question.

  I shrug and cough, forcing myself to locate some energy to play it as cool. “Like I said, just finished up with a client.”

  Jack starts buttoning up his suit jacket. “Excuse me a moment.” He turns to the bellboy and slips a note in his hand. “My wife, Mrs. Joseph, is on her way out. Please hail her a cab when she’s ready.”

  “Yes, sir.” The bellboy nods sharply.

  “Thanks.” Jack turns back toward us, smiling brightly. It’s so fake. His wife’s on her way out? It’s quick thinking, granted. But she isn’t on her way out. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen. “It was nice to see you two.” Taking his phone to his ear, he smiles brightly, backing up. “Oh, and we’re still on track with the gallery schedule, Annie. Colin said you were asking.”

  I nod sharply as Jack turns and leaves. I waste no time swooping in for a subject change. “So who’s your date with?” I chime, injecting tons of excitement into my tone.

  “Oh, I’d better go. I’m late.” Lizzy, suddenly awkward, hotfoots it up the steps into the hotel.

  “But who’s your date with?” I call after her.

  She totally ignores my repeated question, not that I’m bothered. I need to be out of here, pronto. “Call you later!” she sings.

  I sag all over the pavement, but quickly pull it together when she turns and faces me. “We’re out next Friday,” she declares.

  I wilt, despite not being disappointed that I can’t make it, but Lizzy needs to think I am. “I have a cocktail party at Colin’s new gallery. I’ll call you if I can get away early.” I could get away early, no problem, but meeting up with the gang means not seeing Jack. I can go out with my friends any time I like, whereas my opportunities to spend time with Jack are rare. Nothing will make me pass them up.

  “Okay, call me!” She breezes into the hotel, and I stagger toward the main road, exhausted by it all.

  I really don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

  Chapter 17

  The days running up to Colin’s launch pass by surprisingly quickly, thank God; most of my days are spent at Colin’s gallery, checking over the installation of the roof and having building control pass it. It’s been chaos there, the decorators and landscapers working through most of the nights to get everything done on time so the launch can go ahead. It is a push, all hands on deck, but we scrape in just on time.

  I stop off at the Tesco Express at the end of my road to pick up a bottle of wine, planning my night ahead while the cashier rings it through. A soak in the bath. A glass of wine while I get ready. I have a taxi booked for eight, so I have two hours to slowly preen before I head back to the gallery to celebrate its opening. Stuffing my bottle of wine in my huge slouchy bag, along with a bottle of fizz for Colin, I pay and get on my way, rootling through my bag for my keys when I make it to my front door.

  “Hey, Annie!”

  I frown at the wood before me, my grip on the key becoming hard. I recognize that voice. I don’t want to recognize it, and for a fleeting moment I hope I’m hearing things, but as I slowly turn and look over my shoulder, my hopes die. My muscles tense, and the bracelet that Jack gave to me starts to burn around my wrist. I glimpse down, worried, checking that the sleeve of my trench coat’s concealing it.

  “Hi, Stephanie,” I say, tugging my key from the lock, but not before I’ve got the door open so I can escape quickly once we’ve had our pleasantries. What the hell is she doing around here? In particular, outside my apartment? Panic begins to consume me as I slowly turn to face her, trying to clear my face of all guilt. She’s pristine as always, her lips blood red to match her long nails. Those fucking nails. I want to cut them off with a hacksaw.

  “I’m parked just down the street,” she sings, pointing down the road. “Jack’s dry cleaners is out on the main road, and it’s a total bitch to park there.” She holds up a suit bag. “I knew it must be you.”

  I give her a strained smile. “How are you?” I ask, my mind in chaos.

  “Oh, fine. Just running a few errands. Jack needed this for some work thing he’s going to tonight.” She rolls her eyes, and I just smile, a rabbit caught in the headlights. “Got any plans?”

  “Just drinks with some friends,” I blurt, breaking out in a sweat. Fuck, does she know it’s
Colin’s launch night? I should have mentioned that I’m going. Why didn’t I mention that I’m going?

  “Don’t get too drunk!” She laughs hysterically. “I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to let my hair down. Jack and I are out for a nice dinner and a few cocktails.”

  “Sounds great. I hope you have a lovely evening.” I’m lying through the skin of my teeth, of course. I actually hope they have a blazing row and Stephanie realizes there’s a serious lack of love coming from Jack’s way. And she leaves him. Problem solved.

  “Oh, we will.” She rearranges her bag on her shoulder. “Hey, we must do lunch sometime!” she sings. “How about next week?”

  I smile tightly, alarmed. What the hell? “Sure,” I murmur, edging into my front hall. “That would be nice.”

  “Great.” She makes off down the road, waving as she goes. “Lovely to see you, Annie!”

  “You, too,” I call, then shut the door and fall back against it, utterly exhausted. Shit, I need a drink. She was so bloody happy, and the unreasonable part of my brain is asking if she and Jack are getting on all of a sudden. I can’t think that. I rush to the kitchen in search of the wine and pour as I dial Lizzy, needing to talk to a friend to take my mind off…things, even if that friend doesn’t have a clue what’s going on in my life. Distraction. “Hey.”

  “Bonjour!” she answers. “Comment allez-vous?”

  “Why are you talking French?”

  “Because I had a French client in today, and ooh la la, is he something pleasant to look at.”

  “Ooh, French, ah?” I sip wine as I make my way to the bathroom to run the bath.

  “Hot as fuck.”

  “Did you make your attraction known?”

  “He’s married. Restricted zone.”

  I swallow down my wine on a hard gulp, thanking the lord I’m not having this conversation with Lizzy face-to-face. I must be bright red and radiating guilt from every pore. I place my wine on the side of the bath and flip the taps on. “Damn shame.”

  “Not for his wife.” She laughs, and I force myself to laugh, too. I swear, my phone is heating up with me. It’s burning my ear.

  “Hey, have you seen your new man again?” I ask. Apparently their first date went well, and there have been two further dates since, though she’s being sketchy with the details.

  “I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

  “I might not make it tonight. I have the gallery opening, remember. Tell me now. You’ve not even shared his name.”

  “Can’t you slip off early?”

  “I don’t want to be rude, Lizzy.” I tip some bubbles into the tub, pushing the guilt away for lying to her. Lying. I’m getting way too good at it, and it’s not a quality that I’m proud of. “If I can, I’ll call you.”

  “Okay,” she relents on a drawn-out sigh. “Have a good evening at your fancy gallery opening.”

  “Will do,” I confirm, my guilt now being pushed aside by excitement. I get to spend some time with Jack after the gallery opening. I just have to keep myself together while we’re actually at the gallery. But as soon as we’re out of there, the gloves are off. As well as his clothes.

  I hang up, toss my phone to the side, and start to strip down, frowning when I realize Lizzy avoided my question of a name again. I make a mental note to call her tomorrow and get one.

  I lower into the water but I can’t get comfy. The hardness of the tub on my back when I recline annoys me. I shift and move, trying to find a comfortable position, wondering what gives. When one of the diamonds of my bracelet catches one of the spotlights above and sparkles brightly, I realize what’s wrong. I sigh, fondling the charms thoughtfully, shifting and wriggling in the tub. It’s no good. I have no Jack to lie on. Baths will never be the same again. I give up on my relaxing soak and take a shower instead.

  * * *

  I stand at the end of the driveway that leads up to Colin’s new gallery, staring up at my new creation, feeling an immense sense of pride. It’s just about perfect, and though it looks shiny new after the renovations, it doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb as was argued by the local authorities on numerous occasions.

  I make my way up the drive armed with a bottle of bubbly and wander through the open door. The impressive entrance has spectacular art displayed at every turn.

  “Annie!” Colin appears and seizes me as I laugh.

  “Hi!” I let him squeeze me before handing him his champagne.

  “You shouldn’t have.” He hauls me through to the huge extension at the rear. “Just look at it,” he marvels, gazing up toward the roof. “Isn’t it the most spectacular thing you’ve ever seen?”

  “Wonderful,” I admit, absorbing it for a few moments before taking in the people dotted around in small crowds; some admiring the art, some the building, and some just chatting and sipping fizz. I don’t see Jack, but I spot Richard. He notices me and raises his glass.

  “Here.” Colin swoops a flute off the tray of a passing waiter and places it in my hand. “Have a drink, mingle, and listen to everyone sing your praises.” He motions to the outside space through the bifold doors. “There’s a wealth of people waiting to meet the woman who designed the new home for my masterpieces.”

  I actually blush a little, walking out into the minimal garden, where crowds of people are gathered drinking and chatting. But still no Jack. I see the glass cases that Jack put forward, three of them hanging proudly on the brick wall, housing three pieces of Colin’s extraordinary art. “Are you hungry?” Colin asks, indicating a huge table with a buffet laid out. “Help yourself if you’re peckish.”

  “Thanks, Colin.” I forgo the food in favor of my champagne. “I’ll grab something soon.”

  “As you wish.” Colin leads me over to a group of people standing around a tall table.

  “Hi,” I say, shaking every hand that’s offered to me.

  “Annie, this is Rick.” Colin introduces me to a stocky man with gray hair and an impressive moustache. “I know you’re technically off duty tonight, but he’d love to talk to you about a property he’s thinking of buying.”

  Rick smiles brightly at me. “Annie, pleasure to meet you.” His shake is solid; his huge sausage fingers completely wrap around my hand.

  “Pleasure, Rick. Tell me about this property.”

  “It’s a historical building. Protected.” He almost grumbles, clearly not impressed by that. “Off Grosvenor Square. What can I do with it?”

  I laugh. “Not a lot. Is it derelict?”

  “Completely.”

  “Renovations will be welcome, but English Heritage will be watching like a hawk. Materials will be specified, demolition a total no-go, and specialist tradesmen will need to be drafted in.”

  “What are you saying?” Rick asks, looking rather displeased.

  “I’m saying it’ll cost you an arm and a leg. But you might be eligible for a grant from English Heritage to help with the financial burden. It’s worth looking into.”

  He laughs loudly, taking a swig of scotch. “Maybe I’ll rethink that idea. It sounds stressful. So, tell me, where did you get your inspiration for this place?” He motions around the garden, up to the roof. I have to say, it looks bloody amazing, everything I hoped it would be.

  I smile and let myself get pulled into conversation about work. It’s a welcome reprieve from my racing mind. Where is Jack?

  * * *

  Richard finds me when I’m inside getting a refill, and I motion down his front. “This is a nice change,” I say, smiling at his suit.

  He laughs and gets a new glass for himself. “It’s been a job and a half, but well worth it, I’m sure you’ll agree.” He looks up to the roof, and so do I.

  “It was the best and worst design move I’ve ever made.” This roof has caused me more stress than most projects in their entirety.

  “Jack had every faith in you,” he muses, dropping his eyes back to me.

  I sip my champagne, not knowing what I’m supposed to say to that. So
I smile awkwardly, looking around the room. “He’s not here?” I try to sound casual, but I know I’ve failed when Richard shakes his head a little.

  “He’s been held up,” he replies quietly.

  I glance at him, fighting to keep cool. He’s been held up? I don’t like the knowing in Richard’s expression. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me something without actually saying it out loud. Why is he held up? What’s happened? I contemplate rushing to the toilets to text him or e-mail him, but I know that would be stupid. Stephanie seemed upbeat earlier during that awful encounter with her. But that’s what the outside world sees. I know it’s not all rosy behind closed doors.

  Suddenly fretful, I empty my glass in one gulp and grab another. “I hope he makes it,” I murmur weakly, backing up. “Excuse me, I need the ladies’.” I turn on my heels but get no farther than