Something in the Air (Running on Air Book 2), Page 3

  “What? No, of course not. You just said you didn’t want pasta, so I presumed…”

  Realising I definitely shouldn’t be listening to this, I crept as quietly as I could back to the door and left the flat without making a sound. My heart raced as I hurried out, trying not to analyse what I just heard too deeply, but I couldn’t help it. My mind raced a mile a minute. There’d been a viciousness in Diana’s tone that awakened some strange protective instinct in me. I didn’t like how she spoke to James, and I equally didn’t like how he tried to placate her for a situation that wasn’t his fault. Obviously, I hadn’t heard the whole fight, but I wondered if they argued like this a lot. Or was it a once in a blue moon thing? Was their relationship a healthy one, with just a few fights every once in a while, or did Diana talk to him like this all the time? There was something a little emotionally manipulative about what she said to him and it made my chest tighten, my jaw firm.

  Ugh! I was such a stalker! The argument was none of my business. I was supposed to be putting my crush on James behind me, and here I was psycho-analysing his relationship like some obsessed bunny boiler. I needed to get back on track. I needed to focus on my job and quit thinking about my boss all the time.

  It’s none of your business, I reminded myself again. None. Of. Your. Business. So do your job and get over your crush. With renewed yet grim resolve, I hurried out of the building and headed in the direction of the Tube.

  Four

  James

  When I’d walked into our flat, I’d found Diana in bed wrapped in blankets. We’d been arguing a lot lately, but I put it down to wedding stress. The trouble was, a lot of our arguments seemed to be about her not wanting me to see my friends outside of work. I understood, to a certain extent, since between both of our jobs, we didn’t get a lot of quality time together. But my parkour group was important to me, the same way my fiancée was. I just needed to figure out a way to balance the two.

  “I think I might be coming down with a cold,” Diana went on, and I stepped closer to feel her forehead.

  “You don’t feel hot at least,” I said, staring down at her in concern.

  “Come cuddle me,” she pleaded, tugging on my hand.

  “I wish I could, babe, but I have to get ready.”

  Her face turned frosty as she sat upright, suddenly looking more angry than sick. “So you still plan on going without me?”

  “It’s Leanne’s birthday. I have to be there. After tonight we’ll have the whole weekend to ourselves, I promise,” I said, trying to take hold of her.

  She pushed me away. “Oh my God, just go to the fucking party, James. I know you’d rather spend time with your friends than with me.” She threw a pillow at me. It hit me on the shoulder before plopping to the floor.

  I inhaled a deep breath. Diana was a thrower. I wouldn’t have minded if it was just pillows, but the last time we fought, she chucked a wine glass at me. I was lucky it missed and hit the wall instead. Then the time before that, she slapped me across the face. There were so many instances over the years I’d lost count.

  I always tried to be the calm one and help her work through her anger issues. But it was hard when she wanted to fight all the time about small stuff, especially since I hated conflict. I just wanted to get along, but she had a knack for finding problems where there weren’t any. Or maybe I just didn’t see things the same way she did.

  “Are you trying to make me choose between you and my friends?” I questioned.

  “For once, I’d like to come first for you,” she sniffed.

  “You always come first,” I said, distracted when I saw a message pop up on the screen of her phone. It was from her co-worker Cynthia, and I caught a quick glimpse of the preview.

  I forwarded you my notes from the meeting since you weren’t at the office today…

  I frowned at the phone, then brought my gaze back to Diana. “You weren’t at work today?”

  Her face paled for a split second before she quickly composed herself. “I called in sick. I needed some self-care.”

  I rubbed at the day-old stubble on my chin. “Um…that’s fine. Everyone needs a day off every once in a while, but why did you lie to me?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You said you had a long day at work and that’s why you were too tired to go to Leanne’s party. But instead, you’ve been home all day relaxing.”

  “Are you trying to shame me for taking a day off?” she demanded, her voice pitching higher as she stood up from the bed to face me.

  “Not at all. I already told you taking a day off is fine, but I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

  Her eyes grew watery, and I instantly felt like a piece of shit, especially when her lip trembled. “I just couldn’t face the office today, okay? Besides, once we’re married and I start having kids, I’ll probably have to quit my job anyway.”

  “I’d never expect you to do that.”

  “Well, who else is going to raise our kids? You?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. We’ll make it work somehow.” It went without saying that I’d support Diana in keeping her career once we started having a family.

  She laughed harshly. “You’re going to give up your TV show to become a stay-at-home dad? That’s just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Dumb?”

  She gesticulated with her hands. “James, you make four times what I do. It’s obvious I should be the one to quit working. Besides, I’ve kind of been feeling like it’s time to move on. I’m considering handing in my resignation after the wedding.”

  I scratched my head, dumbfounded. Diana hadn’t once mentioned that she was unhappy in her work and wanted to quit. We’d always agreed about having kids, but we’d never really discussed the mechanics of who would be their primary carer.

  “I thought you loved your job,” I said, feeling completely blindsided.

  “I used to, but I think I’m ready to move onto the next phase of my life.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, her voice softening. “It’s not like you can’t afford to support me, Jayjay.”

  Her mouth was pressed against my ear, causing a trickle of pleasure to skitter down my spine. It was at odds with the confusion I felt over her job revelation and my annoyance over our argument about the party. It wasn’t that I had a problem with her resigning if she wasn’t happy. It was just that she hadn’t mentioned a single thing about it until now. I thought we told each other everything.

  “Don’t you like the idea of me being home all day, waiting around for you when you get back?” she murmured huskily.

  No, a jarring voice answered, echoing from deep down in my subconscious. No. The idea of Diana waiting for me each day felt stressful, like too much responsibility. I realised with a jolt that I didn’t want to be the only thing she lived for. When had that changed? Or had I always felt this way and just never had cause to confront the thought before? Either way, her not having a career to focus on made me feel strangely panicked.

  I swallowed tightly, distracted when I caught sight of the time.

  I’m going to be late.

  I took hold of her wrists, kissing the inside of each one before lowering them from my neck. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” I said, dipping down to meet her gaze.

  “Okay,” she whispered back.

  I turned to walk into the bathroom. “I’m going to shower.”

  “Don’t forget to take your meds,” she called after me as I closed the door over.

  I opened the cabinet above the sink and grabbed my anti-anxiety medication. I filled a glass with water then swallowed two pills. Diana was the only person in the world who knew I took medicine to manage my anxiety. I was pretty sure every single one of my friends would be shocked if they found out. They saw James Khan as this strong, reliable, stalwart person, and I worked hard to keep up that image.

  I’d always felt a responsibility to be strong, to be a good role model for my siblings. I was the eldest
of four, and my brother and two sisters looked up to me. I wanted to lead by example, but sometimes it was hard to be solid when the world moved so fast.

  This was one of the reasons why I’d been on medication for the last few years. I started taking it just before we began filming Season One of Running on Air. The idea of being on TV, of possibly becoming famous, had freaked me out. I wasn’t like Callum and Trev. I loved parkour, but I didn’t crave attention and fame like they did. I’d almost pulled out of the show completely, but then Diana convinced me to get on medication. She thought the show was too great an opportunity to pass on. In fact, if it weren’t for her, I’m pretty sure I never would’ve gone ahead with it at all.

  The pills the doctor had prescribed really helped. They took the edge off my panic and made me feel better able to handle everything that came with being on a reality TV show.

  I was grateful to Diana for that. Now I had a career most people would envy.

  When I came out of the shower, she was back in bed, completely absorbed in an episode of the Kardashians. She looked so angelic now, unaware of being observed, and I reminded myself of why I’d fallen for her. Diana was smart, ambitious and confident, charming too, when she wanted to be. I envied her ability to see a goal and just go for it. She had confidence in spades and never questioned her ability to achieve whatever she set her mind to. I’d looked up to her in this sense, since confidence was something I’d struggled with as a younger man. When we first met, Diana was the embodiment of fearlessness and the world felt like my oyster when I was with her. But now, well, my feelings had shifted and it concerned me.

  Maybe I was just taken aback that she was considering leaving her job. It had taken so much work for her to get to where she was. I’d always thought that she loved her career, but obviously that wasn’t entirely true. It made me start to question if there were other things I was wrong about.

  Out in the living area, I paused when I saw the dry-cleaning bags hanging by the door. They definitely hadn’t been there when I got home this evening, which meant one of my assistants, either Neil or Michaela, must’ve dropped them off sometime between then and now.

  Fuck, had they overheard my fight with Diana?

  I rubbed my jaw, feeling self-conscious. It wasn’t that I thought either one of them would go blabbing about what they heard, it was just that, well…I hoped it hadn’t been Michaela. Sure, I liked Neil, but I didn’t want Michaela in particular to think less of me. It was a weird instinct, one I hadn’t analysed too deeply, but I cared about her opinion of me. Probably a little more than I should.

  Trying to shake off the odd feeling in my gut when I thought about Michaela, I went to get dressed. I quickly picked out a pair of my good jeans and a new dark blue shirt.

  “I’m heading out now,” I called to Diana once I was ready to leave. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  There was a pause before she replied sweetly, “Are you still bringing back food?”

  “Sure, what do you want me to get?” No way was I making any suggestions after last time.

  “Italian would be good. You know the lobster linguine they do with the cream sauce?”

  I paused mid-step. Was she bloody joking me? “I thought you didn’t want pasta?” I said, careful to keep my voice even.

  “I’m starving though,” she answered in that overly saccharine tone she used when she wanted to win me over.

  Shaking my head, I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out. I tried not to be mad at her for biting my head off about pasta and then admitting that’s what she wanted. If Diana was having doubts about her job and thinking of quitting, then I knew she must be in a bad headspace. She didn’t need me pointing out small things and making a big deal of them right now, or worse, starting another fight.

  I hated arguing. It rarely achieved anything. Talking things through in a calm and measured fashion was useful, but Diana was too hot-tempered, and what started as a calm conversation often evolved into a battleground. It was exhausting, and I already wasn’t getting enough sleep.

  My mind wandered back to the laundry and the thought of Michaela overhearing mine and Diana’s argument. Neil had been working for me for years, so I didn’t really worry about him judging me, but Michaela had only been with us for a little over eight months. Our working relationship was still new, and yet, I felt closer to her than with Neil. I gravitated towards her for friendship because we seemed to operate on a similar wavelength. Talking to her was always comfortable, natural. In fact, in another setting, I could see us being best friends.

  But she was my PA, which was a strange relationship at times. She completed tasks that were both professional and personal, and we also had to travel together for the show. Spending that much time with someone, the lines between boss/employee and friends could become blurred, and it was a balancing act to keep things just the right level of friendly and the right level of professional.

  With Neil that came easy, but with Michaela, for whatever reason, I’d grown close to her in a way that might be too friendly. Maybe that’s why I felt so weird about the idea of her hearing the fight. And if she had heard, how much had she heard?

  ***

  When I arrived at Callum and Leanne’s building, I spotted Michaela entering the lift just ahead of me.

  “Hold up,” I called and managed to slip in before the door closed.

  She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  “No worries. Do you need help with that?” I asked, gesturing to the white bakery box she held.

  “Actually, yeah, if you don’t mind. It’s Leanne’s birthday cake. I’ve been carrying it all the way from the Tube and my arms are killing me.”

  “Give it here,” I said, sliding it from her arms and into mine.

  “Thanks,” she replied and a silence fell. Awkward silences never really happened with us, which made me think she must’ve been the one to drop off the laundry. Normally, she’d chat with me about whatever intriguing fact had managed to snag her attention that day. But now she just stared at the floor, her teeth digging into her lower lip.

  My attention went from her mouth to her long, dark brown hair that hung over one shoulder. When my eyes rose to meet hers, I fixated on the tiny flecks of gold in her irises. At first glance, you might think they were just brown, but they were more than that…

  Why was I thinking about my assistant’s eye colour? Obviously, I was trying to distract myself from the elephant in the lift.

  Deciding to get it out in the open, I finally spoke. “I saw someone dropped off my dry cleaning. Was that you? If so, thanks.”

  She nodded. “Right. That was me, the dry-cleaning ghost. I come and I go without you even knowing I was there.” Now she winced like she was embarrassed.

  That made two of us. My mind ran back over the argument as I wondered which part Michaela had been privy to.

  “Well,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m sorry if you overheard Diana and me arguing. She’s been having a hard time with work and things are a little tense at the moment with the wedding coming up. She hasn’t been herself lately.” Why was I making excuses? I couldn’t decide if I didn’t want Michaela judging Diana for how she spoke, or if I didn’t want her judging me for not standing up for myself more. When it came to arguments, I tended to let Diana win for the sake of an easy life, and there was a part of me that wondered if I was weak for doing so.

  Michaela waved away my apology. “You don’t need to explain.” She glanced at me for a second before looking away, and something about her look made my throat grow heavy. Did she feel sorry for me? I railed against the thought. But then, maybe she should feel sorry for me. Maybe I’d been Diana’s whipping boy all these years and I didn’t even realise it. Trev and Cal sometimes liked to make subtle jibes about Diana pulling the reins in our relationship, but I always considered it good-natured ribbing. Perhaps it was more than that. Did they see something I couldn’t?

  A moment passed and I got
a faint whiff of Michaela’s flowery shampoo. I noticed her hair was still a little wet and it distracted me for some reason. She must’ve run home to take a shower after finishing work before hurrying over here.

  And now I was fixating on her again. I needed to sort myself out. My head was seriously fried with everything that was going on. I don’t think I’d ever been this busy in my life.

  “How are the house renovations coming along?” Michaela asked, changing the subject and also reminding me exactly why my life was so hectic right now.

  I’d bought a house a couple of months ago, a fixer-upper, and had been keeping it a secret from Diana. It was going to be my wedding gift to her when we got back from our honeymoon. I planned to drive her home from the airport and be all, SURPRISE! Unfortunately, right now, it didn’t look like that timeline was going to happen. There was still so much left to do.

  I exhaled heavily as I cast her a beleaguered look. “Can I be frank?”

  “Always. I love him,” Michaela joked.

  I grinned. She was such a bright, unassuming person. She didn’t force herself on you, but if you sought her out, she was a real treasure. Mum had always taught me to find the quiet person in the room, the one who was standing off to the side, who might not have the confidence to get involved. She said that those people were often hidden gems and that was exactly what Michaela was. She’d become a good friend to me over the last few months, a sounding board when I was stressed and an advisor when I needed advice. I realised quite abruptly how one-sided that was. She worked for me, but was I taking advantage of her kind nature?

  I’d gone silent when she nudged me with her elbow. “So, the renovations?”

  I shook myself. “Sorry. I wandered off there for a second.” Thinking about what a great person you are and how I might be a bit of a dick. Definitely don’t say that out loud. “The renovations haven’t been great. It’s a bit of a shitshow, actually. I feel like one of those people who go on Grand Designs with all these lofty ideas, and then three years later, they’re still living in a mobile home in a muddy field beside a construction site.”