A Wild Affair (21 page)

“Yes, I do,” Max said, his eyes twinkling as he unzipped my top. “And if you don't shut up, we'll only have fifteen minutes. Okay?”

Luckily, Chester and my mother were late. Ten minutes late, to be precise, which meant that Max and I had both jumped into the shower (together, to save time; only it didn't save much time at all—it added time—but neither of us was really too worried
about it, to be honest) and pulled our clothes back on before they arrived. Max opened the door, while I pulled white wine and apple juice out of the fridge and poured four glasses, smoothing down my wet hair and peering into the small mirror just outside the kitchen to work out whether my red cheeks said “healthy glow” or “just been shagged. Twice.” They screamed the latter, of course, but I didn't care. My mother didn't care about my feelings—why should I care about hers?

“Darling! So lovely to see you. Is that a glass of juice?” I turned around hurriedly to see my mother advancing toward me. She embraced me, nearly knocking over the glasses in the process, and I inhaled what seemed like a bottle full of perfume. “You look flushed. Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Perfectly, thanks.” I realized as I spoke that I
was
fine. Maybe I could even muster some charity for my mother. I was happy; she was happy. Maybe I could be big about this after all. “Here.” I handed her the juice. “So, I guess congratulations are in order.”

She met my eyes; she looked wary. “Really? You're happy for me? I thought you might be cross.”

I took a mouthful of wine. “Really? Why would I be cross?”

“I don't know.” She smiled awkwardly. “I wanted to tell you myself. I was so terribly vexed with Chester for spilling the beans. But then I thought to myself, well, maybe it's better that way. You and I … I do want to have that drink, one day, if you think you might want to …”

“Sure,” I said vaguely, looking around for Chester or Max. I could be happy for her; it didn't mean I was going to completely forgive her.

“Happy? Someone must be talking about me!” Chester said, bursting into the room. “Jess, great to see you. Your mom here has made me more than happy. Exceptionally so.”

“Exceptionally, huh?” I smiled and nodded knowingly. Maybe
my bullshit to Max had been more sensible than I'd thought. Chester must know about the article; his good mood meant that it was no big deal after all. Everything was going to be okay. “Well, that's great news.”

“Yes, it is,” Chester said warmly. “And I flatter myself that she's quite pleased about it, too.”

My mother nodded quickly, reaching out to put her arm through Chester's. “You know, I couldn't be more so,” she said, her voice catching slightly.

“Esther, great to see you,” Max said easily, appearing at my side. Then he frowned, peering at her more closely. “Are you all right? Something wrong?”

She shook her head. “Oh, don't mind me,” she said, wiping away a tear. “I just can't believe … First you and Jessica, and now Chester. I feel like that girl in
The Sound of Music
, wondering what wonderful thing I did to deserve all this.”

“You don't have to ask that,” Chester said, pulling her into him. “You deserve all this and more. Doesn't she, Jess?”

I took another slug of wine. “Everyone deserves to be happy,” I said, shooting a smile at Max.

“Yes, they do,” he said, giving me an affectionate look that made me glow with pleasure. I was a good person. Okay, not good. Not great. But I was okay. I made mistakes, everyone did that. But I could also be generous. And I had Max, too—he
made
me good. He made me better.

My mother caught my eye and evidently thought my glow was about her. “Oh, darling,” she said, her hand taking mine so that she, Chester, and I looked like we were about to start singing “Auld Lang Syne.” “Isn't this just so exciting though? Both of us getting married, to such wonderful men.”

As she spoke, I looked back at Max, who winked at me and I felt a lurch in my stomach, of love, of desire. My Max. My perfect Max.

“They are wonderful, aren't they?” I murmured, as Max handed Chester a glass of wine.

“To Chester and Esther,” Max said.

I giggled. “Poetry already. That's got to be a good sign, right?”

“Right.” Chester grinned. “I hadn't thought of that.”

“You hadn't noticed that your names rhymed?” Max asked incredulously. “Chester, come on, surely that was part of the attraction? I mean, you could go jogging in matching sweatshirts with your names embossed on the front.”

Chester looked at him nervously, unsure whether he was joking.

“You can get matching monogrammed towels,” I added helpfully. “And a sticker for your car.”

“Sure,” Max said. “And just think of the answering machine message you can record.”

“You could make up a song,” I said, winking at Max. “Chester and Esther can't come to the phone …”

“Chester and Esther sadly aren't home,” Max added tunelessly. We were laughing; laughing like two people who knew each other inside out and back to front, who got the joke, who were meant for each other. It made me feel all warm inside, and it wasn't just the wine.

I noticed that my glass was empty. “Who wants a refill?” I asked. “Mum? Chester?” Neither of them had taken more than a couple of sips. “Max?”

He shook his head and I shrugged, taking my own glass back to the kitchen for more. I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Chester approaching. “Hey, Jess. Can you point me in the direction of a phone I could use? Can't seem to get reception for my cell.”

I sloshed some wine into my glass. I was feeling very happy, very pleased with myself. “There's a phone in here, if you want.”

I pointed at the phone in the corner and Chester nodded gratefully. “I won't be long,” he said. “Just a quick work call.”

I wandered out of the kitchen and back into the living room where Max and my mother were chatting easily about interior design. Helen was right, I realized. You didn't have to love your mother like you loved your boyfriend or friend. You didn't even have to like her most of the time. My mother was flawed, I knew that. She was annoying, and quite selfish, to be honest. But she was still my mother. She'd come to find me, and that had to count for something.

The truth was, it was really incredible to have a person, just one person who loved you and who you loved. But actually, it was even better to have
people
. To have family. To belong to a unit. I'd never belonged to one before. And now … now I sort of did.

“This is nice, isn't it?” I said, before I could stop myself. They both turned to look at me expectantly. “This,” I said, waving my hands around. “Us. Together. Having a nice time. It's just … nice, that's all.”

Max held out his hand and I clasped it. “It's very nice,” he agreed.

“Oh, it's lovely,” my mother said, taking Max's other hand and smiling at him gooey-eyed. “When I think how close I came to not contacting you … when I think how scared I was, how nervous … well, I don't like to think about it. Because now, well, things just couldn't be better, could they? I've got a wonderful daughter. And a wonderful son-in-law. And best of all, I met Chester.”

“Best of all?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Not best,” my mother said quickly. “I didn't mean that. I meant …”

“She meant best in that it was an unexpected extra,” Max said kindly.

I forced a smile. So she was more excited to meet Chester and Max than me—so what? I was strong, like Max said. I was happy. I was …

“Max?” We all turned to see Chester in the doorway, a strange expression on his face.

“Chester. Did you manage to make your call …” I trailed off as I registered his expression. He looked like someone trying really hard not to punch something. His eyes were boring into Max's like daggers.

“Chester?” Max asked immediately, letting my hand drop. “What is it?”

Chester walked into the room, but stayed ten feet from us. “I've just been on the phone to my people at Jarvis.”

“Chester,” my mother said, faux-seriously “Chester, if this is work, then I'm very cross. You promised that tonight wouldn't be about work.”

“I lied,” Chester said, and the tone of his voice sent an electrical current through the room.

“Chester?” Max asked again. “What's up?”

“What's up?” Chester asked. “What's up? What's up is that I have just been told about an article in today's
Advertising Today
. An article which I presume was available to you, being an advertising executive. An article which you didn't, however, think to bring to my attention. An article which, I'm told, has wrecked our Glue deal.”

I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Max looked at him steadily. “I know. I'm sorry, Chester. It was a real blow to read it,” he said.

“A blow,” Chester said sarcastically. “You think? So I guess you did know about it, then. You see, I've just been telling my people that you couldn't have known, that it was impossible because you would have told me right away. But I guess I was wrong.”

I held my breath, waiting for Max to go white again, for the
anxiety to show in his eyes, but he didn't; it didn't. “I assumed you'd read it,” he said simply. “But Chester, you should be directing your anger at whoever leaked the news, not at us.”

“Is that so?” Chester looked at him in disbelief. “Do you know how long I've been putting this deal together? Do you know how important it is to me, to Jarvis? Of course you do. I told you. I also told you that if the news got out, it would ruin everything. And now, what do you know, it's out there, and you don't even seem bothered about it. Let me tell you one more thing, Max. I do not like being screwed over. I don't like it one bit.”

“It wasn't Max,” I said suddenly. I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear to have Max accused unfairly. I had to tell him. Had to tell him the truth. “It wasn't. I know it wasn't. It was …”

“Jess, this is between me and Chester,” Max interrupted, his tone more serious than I'd ever heard it before. “Chester, you're not listening. It was not us. It wasn't me.”

“Save it,” Chester snorted derogatively “The people who knew were me, my accountant, my lawyer, and you. You think one of them contacted
Advertising Today?”

Max looked at him levelly “I don't know, Chester. I concede that it's unlikely.”

“You bet your ass it is. Either you told them, or you told someone who told them. Either way, the deal's screwed. Either way, I can't trust you anymore. Either way, Jarvis Private Banking is no longer a client of yours, Max. I'm sorry, but that's the way it's got to be.”

“Wait,” I said desperately. “Wait, there's something you need to know. It was …”

“Not now, Jess,” Max cut in again. “Chester, think about what you're saying here. I give you my word that the leak did not come from Milton Advertising. Instead of arguing we need to think about damage limitation. We need to …”

“There is no ‘we,’” Chester cut in. “Not anymore. I'm afraid
your word doesn't seem to count for much, Max. The only people from Jarvis you're going to hear from is our lawyers. Come on, Esther. We have to go.”

He held out his arm. I spun around to look at my mother. “She's not going anywhere,” I said. “Right, Mum?”

My mother smiled weakly. “Chester,” she said tentatively. “Chester, do we really have to go so soon?”

“Yes, we do,” he said, his arm still outstretched. “You coming? Or are you staying? Make your mind up, Esther.”

She reached out and put her hand on mine and I breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to choose me. Chester was being irrational and rude and my mother was going to stay and he was going to regret raising his voice and …

“I'm sorry, Jess. I have to go.” She said it so quietly, I nearly missed it.

“You have to what?”

“I'm so sorry,” she said again, standing up and turning her head to avoid my eyes.

I looked at her for a moment, my heart and head exploding with things I wanted to shout, but I knew already that there was no point.

Chester looked at me sadly. “I'm sorry, too, Jess. We'll set up a dinner some other time. You, me, and your mother.”

I looked at him stonily, then turned to my mother. “I don't have a mother,” I said levelly.

“Jess, don't say that,” my mother implored me. “I'm not choosing Chester over you. But he's going to be my husband. I have to …”

“Save it,” I said angrily. “You made your choice a long time ago. Now go.”

“Come on, Esther,” Chester said, pulling her out of the door and slamming it shut, leaving Max and me to stare after them.

“Well,” Max said, sitting down on the sofa, a dazed expression on his face. “That went well, wouldn't you say? We must entertain more often.”

I sat down next to him, my mind racing. “Max …,” I said tentatively. “Max, there's something I need to tell you …”

He looked at me for a second, then stood up. “I'm going to go after him,” he said, grabbing his jacket.

“Now? No, Max. Leave it. Let him cool off. I need to tell you something.”

“I can't leave it.” He put his hand through his hair. “There's too much at stake, Jess. Your thing will keep, won't it?”

I nodded uncertainly. “And if Chester won't listen?”

“Then I'll be at the office doing a bit of damage limitation.”

“I could come, if you wanted?” I offered.

Max shook his head. “Don't wait up,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of my head, before grabbing his keys and leaving.