Love notes (21 page)

“He’s different now,” she said
at last. “Far more vulnerable. Five years ago he obviously didn’t
take our relationship seriously enough. Now he says that letting me
go was the worst mistake he’s ever made. He wants to spend the rest
of his life making it up me.”

“Will you let him?” It was a
simple enough question but the answer didn’t come quite as
easily.

“I don’t know. Not only am I
frightened to get involved again, I’m also terrified I’m only
falling into his arms because he’s promised to rescue me from
Marty. I need to be sure it’s him I want, not the freedom he
represents.”

“What makes you doubt it?”

“Because when I’m with him, the
edges of reality are blurred and I can’t think straight. It’s
impossible to imagine my future without him but, if I go straight
from Marty to Aiden, I’ll be swapping one kind of dependency for
another. What happens if I wake up in his bed six months from now
and realise I’ve made a mistake?” She paused for Ben’s answer but
it didn’t come. “For Aiden’s sake, as well as mine, I need to be
sure I really love him.”

“Trust me, you’re sure.” Ben
rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. “You can’t say his name
without blushing. When you talk about him you hug yourself. You
don’t need me to tell you you’re in love with him.”

No she probably didn’t.

But loving Aiden and staking her
future happiness upon him were two completely different things.

“Not seeing him for a couple of
days has let my head clear,” she went on, thinking out loud about
their whirlwind reunion. “And not only about my feelings for him.
I’m wondering whether, once all this is over, I’ll need some time
alone to take stock.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

“So how do I explain it to Aiden
without him feeling rejected?”

Ben moved into the chair next to
Erika and put his arm around her shoulders, for once not caring
whether the photographers had a good shot of them.

“Firstly, Aiden already knows
how you feel about him,” he said. “If I can see you’re in love with
him, so must he.”

“And second?”

“If he loves you as much as you
say, he’ll understand you need time to find yourself again.”

Erika rested her head on Ben’s
shoulder and struggled to convince herself. “Right now, I’d be glad
of any kind of conversation with him. I’m worried he’ll see
pictures of us together and jump to the wrong conclusions. He might
even think I only used him to make you jealous. I can’t wait to see
him and tell him how I really feel.”

Tears threatened, but conscious
they had an audience, Erika blinked them away and kissed Ben’s
cheek, relaxing into his embrace.

“When they talk about falling in
love, that’s exactly what it is,” she said eventually, sitting up
again. “We don’t intend to do it. We simply trip up somewhere along
the way and plunge headlong, not having a clue where we’ll
land.”

Ben sighed at the truth of this.
“In which case, let’s do everything we can to make sure you don’t
skin your knees.”

Aiden tried his utmost to
concentrate on whatever his surveyor was telling him but the
information simply wouldn’t sink in. The winds whipping around the
construction site in east London must have come straight from
Siberia because their icy fingers found their way into every gap in
his clothing, chilling him to the bone. Unusually for Aiden, he
felt shivery and listless and he wondered whether he might be
coming down with the flu.

Then common sense told him the
only thing ailing him was Erika Fenn and, from past experience,
that illness needed a much longer recovery period.

“Let’s call it a day,” he
suggested eventually, taking the surveyor completely by surprise.
Aiden never gave the business less than his full attention but his
mind was running at half speed and was totally preoccupied. Unable
to make a decision on even the smallest point, he’d be better off
at home.

“In fact, close the whole site
down early for the weekend,” he said. “The snow’s coming in and
everyone will be glad to get home today.”

Hardly able to believe what he’d
just heard, the surveyor went off to spread the good news, leaving
Aiden to trudge back to his car, hands deep in his pockets and his
shoulders hunched against the cold. He flung his hard hat onto the
back seat and shut the door on the wind, only then daring to remove
his gloves.

Chafing his hands together and
breathing on them to bring them back to life, he promised himself
he wouldn’t look at the Internet news services again and stuck his
phone deep in his pocket.

Every new photograph of Erika
and Ben only reopened the wound the first picture had inflicted,
doubling the ache that encased the centre of his chest until he
could no longer breathe without effort.

Aiden didn’t need to see Erika
stealing kisses from Ben Ridley in the street to realise she’d gone
for good this time. He had a cold bed to remind him, and a mobile
phone that hadn’t managed to connect with hers in four days. The
letter he’d sent to Claridges had been ripped open and returned,
and lay on his desk, telling him time and again what a fool he’d
been to make himself so vulnerable.

Photographs of Erika sharing
lunch with Ben, or leaving an exclusive jeweller’s after choosing
an engagement ring, only amplified the pain and very public
humiliation that had now driven out every other sensation.

He could spare himself any more
of that at least.

Before he headed home to thaw
out, he checked with his office in case he needed to deal with
anything urgent before the weekend. He saw he’d missed four calls
from his secretary in the last hour and dialled, expecting progress
on a deal he’d been trying to put together in Zurich. When she came
on the line she had very different news.

“A Richard Edmonds has called
three times this afternoon but wouldn’t leave much of a
message.”

“Probably another contractor
wanting work on one of the sites,” Aiden guessed because he
received at least a dozen similar calls each week.

“That’s what I thought at first
but he’s American. He said a friend’s unable to contact you. Does
that mean anything to you?”

Potentially it meant a great
deal but Aiden played it cautiously. “It doesn’t ring any bells,”
he pretended, “but I’d take his name again in case I remember over
the weekend.”

He scribbled down the mobile
number, wondering if he’d find Marty Cooper on the other end of it.
His fingers itched to dial straight away but he told himself to
wait and call from his apartment. Good news or bad, he needed a hot
shower and some privacy before he could face dealing with a cryptic
American who may, or may not, have news of Erika.

Less than an hour later, Aiden
emerged from his bathroom, showered and dressed in jeans and a
heavy sweater, although still shivery. The note of Richard Edmonds’
telephone number lay on the kitchen worktop next to his keys,
goading him into calling, and yet he hesitated.

He wanted to speak to Erika
direct – either face to face or on the phone – and he didn’t relish
the idea of conducting his private life through a third party.

However, as Richard represented
the only probable connection with her, he had no choice but to
ring.

The call was answered
immediately but, before Aiden could say a word, an American voice
warned him to be careful. “I can’t guarantee this line is secure.
Don’t mention names or specifics. We need to talk in person.”

At least it’s not Marty Cooper,
Aiden thought. “Who are you and how do I know I can trust you?”

“I’ll introduce myself when we
meet. And as soon as you hear what I have to say, you’ll know I’m
the real deal.”

“If this is an attempt to
blackmail me…” Aiden left the threat hanging in the air but Richard
Edmonds didn’t rise to the bait.

“Relax. It ain’t personal. I’m
doing this for our friend. So will you meet me or not?”

Every instinct told Aiden to
steer well clear of meeting someone he couldn’t identify but he
didn’t have much choice. He already knew how impossible it was to
get anywhere close to Erika and this might be his last chance
before she returned to Los Angeles.

Even if she told him she never
wanted to see him again, he needed to hear it from her own lips.
All he had at the moment were disappointments built from snippets
of gossip that told him she was engaged to Ben Ridley.

Erika at least owed him the
truth, even an unpalatable one.

“Where do you want to meet?”
Aiden asked eventually, thinking he might be handing a journalist
the scoop of his life. “There’s a bar in the West End…”

“No.” Richard was adamant. “For
reasons that will become plain, it has to be somewhere more
discreet.”

“Will our friend be with
you?”

“That’s not possible.”

The seeds of Aiden’s doubt took
root and flourished in an instant. He wouldn’t be played for a fool
“In that case, no deal,” he said, preparing to hang up but Richard
rushed to stop him.

“Look, I don’t blame you for
being suspicious. But you gotta trust me.”

“Why? I have no proof you even
know my friend.”

Richard swore under his breath
in frustration. “I can’t give you proof over the phone because this
line may have been hacked and I don’t know who’s listening. I
daren’t even describe exactly where we’re meeting.”

“So how will I find you?” Aiden
felt the situation growing more bizarre by the minute.

“Drive to your old apartment
block at nine tonight and park in the service road out back.”

“Which apartment? I’ve owned
half a dozen.”

Richard laughed before he
delivered the next instruction. “If you asked, I’m to say it’s the
apartment where our friend met Little Miss Naked.”

Erika!

Aiden only just stopped himself
blurting out her name. She wouldn’t have shared that piece of
information with anyone, least of all a journalist. A woman who
spent every waking minute protecting her privacy wouldn’t have let
slip one of her most closely-guarded secrets. If Richard Edmonds
knew something this private, Erika must have trusted him with
it.

Aiden’s assessment of Richard
shifted in a moment. “I’ll be there,” he promised, although still
praying he wasn’t being taken for a fool

However, by nine thirty that
evening Aiden half believed he was on a wild goose chase after all.
He sat shivering in an unlit car park behind his old apartment,
still waiting for Richard Edmonds to appear. He’d tried the
American’s mobile a couple of times but it had clicked to voicemail
and he’d hung up, wondering whether the meeting had simply been a
ruse to get him out of his apartment.

He laughed at himself. All this
secrecy and talk of hacked phone lines had made him so paranoid
he’d started believing someone might be bugging his flat right
now.

He had to get a grip.

After waiting for another ten
minutes, Aiden was on the verge of driving away when a second car
pulled into the bay opposite and switched off its lights, plunging
the car park into darkness again. He made out two shadowy figures
so he flicked on his headlights. He recognised Ben Ridley with a
jolt.

He was impressed. Men like him
usually got someone else to do their dirty work.

Ben turned away as the light
flashed in his eyes and said something to the smaller man beside
him, who shook his head as if he didn’t have the answer. Aiden
wondered what kind of situation he’d put himself into but reasoned
the only way to find out was to get out of his car.

Richard introduced himself
first. “Good to meet you, Aiden. Perhaps now you appreciate the
need for secrecy.”

Ben held out his hand in
greeting but Aiden pointedly ignored the gesture, wanting to hear
what Ben had to say. Ben shoved his hand back in his pocket and
burrowed down inside his coat.

“I guess you’re not too pleased
to see me,” he said, the master of understatement.

“If you’ve come to rub my nose
in your success, don’t bother,” Aiden warned, raising his voice
more than he’d intended.

“Success?”

“I saw you and Erika outside
Claridges. I only wish she’d had the courage to tell me herself
that it’s over.”

Aiden waited for his anger to
rise but it didn’t come. Instead a excruciating sense of
humiliation swelled inside him as he stood facing the man who’d
walked away with the woman he loved and now flaunted his victory to
every passing photographer.

“It’s not the way it looks,” Ben
said but Aiden laughed in his face.

“I’m many things but I’m not a
fool, Ridley. Tell Erika that, if this was all about revenge, we’re
even now. I finally understand how betrayed she felt five years
ago. Job done.”

He made to get back into the
car, wanting to escape before he either lost his temper or his
dignity in front of Ben. He’d come out of this badly enough without
Erika hearing he was falling apart without her.

“You’re not a fool, Aiden.
Erika’s told me that. In fact, she’d told me everything except the
part about you being stubborn and bone headed. The man Erika
described would have given me a fair hearing, at least.”

Stung by the accusation of
unfairness, Aiden let go of the car door and turned back to Ben,
curious but unconvinced. “What more is there to say? Erika’s made
her choice and I have to respect that.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t jump to
conclusions,” Ben warned, anger flaring. “You’ve been on the wrong
end of the paparazzi often enough to know they can invent a story
from the flimsiest evidence.”

“I saw the way you kissed
Erika,” Aiden growled. “There was nothing flimsy about it.”

Ben tipped his head on one side
as if he’d been paid a huge compliment. “We all play to our
strengths – that’s what makes us so successful. You build. Erika
sings. And I act.”