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Authors: Sofia Grey

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BOOK: Perfect Stranger
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1.2 Kate

I didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved when Adam, my boss, phoned, but it gave me an excuse to leave Jordan at the breakfast table and head back to my room. Polite small talk was my bread and butter, but I floundered if it shifted beyond that. He was about to wish me a happy birthday. I could tell. I don’t know why I told him. Why I opened up to a perfect stranger.

Jordan was sweet, and I was glad he’d seen me smartly dressed this morning, unlike the drowned rat from the day before. And what a gentleman. I didn’t think guys behaved like that anymore—offering their jackets to damsels in distress. Perhaps they did in Houston? I’d never been to the U.S., and my knowledge was limited to books and movies. That accent, though... I could listen to him talk all day. He’d make an operational-service manual sound sexy.

These thoughts zipped through my head, as I waited for my email, and an updated sales report in particular, to download. I’d need that for today’s meetings, when I broke the news to our Exeter office that the sales-support function was being centralized. Those affected could transfer to the new team, but since Manchester was hundreds of miles away, they were unlikely to be interested.

As the only female senior manager in the Sales division at ComCo, I was viewed as a curiosity by some and as a threat by others. I’d walked this tightrope for the past two years, but it didn’t get any easier, and days like today were painful for everyone.

It wasn’t just yesterday that sucked; the past year had been dismal. With changes at work, my beloved Gran having a stroke and being moved to a care home, and then my on-again-off-again boyfriend calling it quits for good, I was running on empty.

At the back of my mind, I’d known it wouldn’t last with Tony, but our two years together hadn’t been that bad. He didn’t like how much I travelled for work, and I wondered if he resented my management position since he worked on a helpdesk. I’d been lucky at work—in the right place at the right time—and seized the opportunities as they came along, but at what cost?

I was in danger of throwing a pity party, and I stared at my email while I focused my thoughts. Targets. Bonuses. Market share. I scanned the cluster of messages from Adam. He was even more of a workaholic than me, and it was common for him to be online all night. Some days I found a dozen or more terse emails that had dropped into my inbox after midnight. I scanned through the latest batch, but nothing looked urgent.

The laptop pinged with an email from Jen. An animated greetings card leapt into life, butterflies and little birds drawing pictures across the screen. She’d left a message too.

Happy Birthday! Have a wonderful day xoxo

She added a string of emoticons, with everything from grinning faces to birthday cakes, and I had to smile. My best friend was sweet and
always
remembered birthdays. My phone chirruped next, with a text message from my younger sister, Sophie.

Bon anniversaire! Big Birthday Hugs!!! Love ya, S xxx

PS – I’ll be home in a few weeks and will bring your present with me

Now Tony was history, would Sophie want to move in with me? Last we spoke, she hadn’t made up her mind about university, but a lot could have changed in the past six months.

 

* * * *

 

I dumped my laptop bag on the floor and sank onto the bed.
God.
Apart from the half hour I’d escaped to the shopping mall, to buy new shoes, the day had been a nightmare. That had to be why Adam sent
me
. The resentment from the Sales branches would be directed toward me during the reshuffle. It was my team, creating a central office for handling Sales calls, but it wasn’t my idea. Days like this, I wondered if Adam was pushing me to the point where I’d resign. Maybe I should.

I didn’t want to work for another company; I’d built my team from scratch, and they were like family now.

Perhaps I needed a holiday. Somewhere with a long golden beach, and a cute bartender. When the reshuffle was over, of course.

After a full-on day, I couldn’t face dining by myself. Normally, I took a book with me to the restaurant, but I wasn’t sure I had the concentration for that tonight. A bath, room service, and the movie channel looked like my best option. If I were at home, Tony and I would probably go out for dinner. If we were still a couple, that is. Being single again wouldn’t be that different. We hadn’t lived in each other’s pockets.

A sharp knock at the door, and I opened the door to see a porter, a giant bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Delivery for Ms. Archer?”

“That’s me.” There had to be some mistake. My heart lurched at the idea that Tony might be trying to apologize, but I discounted the possibility. He’d no idea which hotel I was staying in.

I thanked the porter, took the bouquet, and pushed the door shut. The flowers were beautiful. Pink, purple, and cream blooms jostled for space, their sweet perfume filling my nose. A giant pink-and-white striped ribbon and crinkly cellophane held the blooms together, and I spotted a tiny silver envelope tucked into the bow.

The card inside held a brief message.

Happy Birthday. Hope today was a better day.

It was signed
J.M.

I laughed at the irony of the situation. The only person to ever send me a bouquet was a guy I spoke to at breakfast. A devastatingly attractive stranger. Maybe—just maybe—the evening could be fun after all. The least I could do would be to join him for drinks, to say
thanks
.

1.3 Jenny

Le Mistral, the new wine bar in the center of Manchester, was teeming with people I knew. I couldn’t stay long, as Rob would be picking me up on his way home from his football game and he hated to be kept waiting. He wasn’t happy I came here tonight, and I didn’t want to antagonize him further.

I’d go out again this weekend, for a belated celebration for Kate’s birthday. Isobel, a mutual friend, organized a theater trip that sounded like great fun. We’d all worked together at ComCo, a few years ago, but Kate was the only one still there. I wondered how she was spending her birthday. It couldn’t be fun, spending so much time travelling. She was away from home at least one night each week.

Isobel was here tonight, and in her element in this crowd. I watched, amused, as she flitted between people, gossiping and chattering with a confidence I could only dream of. I was much happier in a small group, but my team had all come out after winning a new account, and I’d promised to stay for a little while.

The conversation drifted from vaguely work-related things to relationships. Or rather, the lack of them. Livy, my teammate, crushed endlessly on Hot Jase in Accounts, though he never seemed to notice. Her quest for love made me glad I had Rob. My husband. I glanced at my wedding ring, still shiny after six months on my finger. Being single had been awful. Being married was much better.

“Hubba, hubba,” said Livy, nudging me with her elbow. She indicated the other side of the room with a tilt of her head. “Hot Jase has brought a friend. I think my ovaries might explode.”

I looked up, and my world fell apart.

Holy shit.

Cade Brisley.

My heart lurched so hard I almost got whiplash. A moment ago I was thinking happy thoughts, and now I calculated how quickly I could get out of here. I’d have to walk past him, to get to the exit. I couldn’t duck into the bathrooms, as I’d have to pass him by.

Maybe he wouldn’t see me? Yeah, right. As if I could be so lucky. He turned to speak to Hot Jase, and then locked gazes with me.

Humphrey Bogart muttered inside my head, “
Of all the wine bars, in all of the world, why d’you have to walk into mine?
” I mean, what were the chances? Millions of people lived in Manchester. Thousands more flocked here for the nightlife. I’d no idea where Cade lived these days, but statistically, we should never bump into each other in a city this size.

He saw me, and shame unfurled in my gut. My cheeks burned at the memory of what happened, and I fought to stay calm. We didn’t have to speak to each other. It wasn’t as though we were friends any more. Judging by the way his dark brows tugged together, he was as disconcerted as I was.

Livy was still talking. “I’ll ask Hot Jase to introduce us. Come with me, Jen.”

I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. I needed a diversion, and fast. Spinning on my heel, I spotted Isobel’s boyfriend gazing at a giant piece of artwork on the wall. He’d do.

“I, umm… Greg. You go.” I had to sound like an idiot, and I didn’t wait for Livy’s reply. I scuttled to Greg’s side, feeling sick to my stomach.
Please don’t come over
.
Please walk away. Pretend you didn’t see me.

God. What if Rob saw him? I sucked in a shaky breath, black dots dancing in my vision. That could
not
happen. I wouldn’t let it.

Think
,
Jen.
I emptied my glass of wine and stared at the painting. Panic bubbled in my chest. Cade had only just arrived, so he’d be here a while. I could slip out now and wait for Rob outside. I’d walk past Cade and pretend he wasn’t there.

Oh, great. Now Greg was talking to me, and I’d no idea what he said.
Focus.
I dug deep and managed an artificial smile. “Sorry. I didn’t catch that.” Every atom of me was on red alert, waiting for the footstep behind me. The hand on my shoulder. For Cade to speak to me.


Purgatory
,” said Greg.

“What?” This was more like my idea of hell.

He gestured toward the painting with his glass. “I don’t get modern art,” he said.

“No.”

I didn’t know him very well, but he was a safer option than staying with Livy. How soon could I escape?

I checked my phone, though it hadn’t vibrated. As if he’d read my mind, a text from Rob popped up.

5 mins. I’ll stop outside. Be ready.

Thank God. I might get out of this mess without any blood being spilled. I’d hold my head high and walk straight to the exit. It’d take me a couple of minutes to get out of the building, and then I could go home with my husband and pretend this nightmare never happened.

I thought I said
goodnight
to Greg, but I couldn’t be sure. One step and then another, I skirted around the edge of the room, making sure I knew where Cade was as I moved. He stood by the bar, facing away from me.

Please don’t turn around.

Livy waved to me. I waved back.

No stopping.
Keep moving.

I accelerated a few steps from the doors, and hurried through them as though racing for the last bus. Cool air hit my face, and I gulped a shaky breath. Rob would be here any minute. I had to calm down. If he thought for a second that Cade had been here, it wouldn’t be pretty.

2.1 Jordan

It took a lot to disturb my practiced composure. As Vice Chairman of TM-Tech, my father’s multi-national company, I had a lot of people working for me. I was used to handling them and their problems on a daily basis, but when it came to Louisa? She pushed all my buttons.

I sat at the back of the conference hall, my gaze fixed on the keynote speaker, but my mind dancing back and forth. Louisa seemed to think I could offer advice on her marriage.
Really
? I’d never been married, for heaven’s sake, nor come close. My last steady relationship was months ago. Too many months. Why did Lou think I was qualified to counsel her?

I couldn’t turn my back on her. We grew up together and were more like siblings—so close, she’d driven two hundred miles down to Exeter from London, rather than talking over the phone or waiting until the conference was over. She was only in the country for a few more days, and then she’d be going home to Texas.

She was married to Marcus, which meant taking sides was impossible. She joined him in Berlin for a short break, but they argued. Again. What the hell could I tell her?

I sneaked a look at my phone. There was a missed call from Louisa and several new voicemails. After spending most of the previous evening with her, I hoped she’d for once taken my advice, and gone back to London.

As I sat through yet another data-filled set of slides, my mind arced back to Kate. Had she received the flowers yet?

I rarely acted on impulse. Every action was planned and considered, but this was different. Her chocolate-brown eyes were warm and friendly, softening her sharp businesslike appearance and attitude. Kate intrigued me.

When I finally left the conference suite, I saw her sitting at the bar across the foyer, and I hesitated. She looked stunning. A shimmering top clung to every curve, and I couldn’t drag my gaze from her long legs. She faced the opposite way, toward the windows, a drink in hand.

I wanted her.

The realization hit me like a punch to the solar plexus. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Recovering my composure, I forced myself to stroll toward the bar area. I tried to look casual, but when she turned and smiled at me, I was a goner.

Several thoughts jostled for attention. She was alone. She might be waiting for me. I needed to find out what the fuck Louisa was doing and if I was free tonight. And I had to ditch my colleagues.

One of my executives, Antony, paused by my side. “You joining us for dinner?”

My gaze strayed back to Kate and the elegant foot swinging against the barstool. Hell. Even if Louisa was still here, I’d find a way to have a drink with Kate.
Just a drink?
With some effort, I summoned a polite response for Antony. “I already have plans. Enjoy your evening.”

“You too.”

He walked off, and I dug out my phone and dialed the voicemail. A few steps to the right was an alcove, and I ducked in there while I listened to my messages. Work. More work. Marcus asking a work question. And then, thank Christ, Louisa. She returned to London.

My time was my own.             

BOOK: Perfect Stranger
7.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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