‘Yes… No…’ She blushed. ‘I wasn’t exactly throwing myself at him.’
‘No? How come I got so lucky?’ She dug him in the ribs with her elbow. In response, he put his arm around her. ‘You throw, I’ll catch,’ he said and, without stopping to think, she stood on tiptoe and put her arms around his neck. He didn’t let her down, scooping her up so that she was off the ground, grinning as he spun her around, kissing her before he set her back on her feet.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘Entirely my pleasure,’ he assured her, still holding her close. ‘But I don’t understand. If there was no great romance, no passion, why did you accept his proposal, Lucy?’
‘Because I bought the fairy story.’
She was still buying it, she thought, glancing up at Nathaniel. She really needed to get a grip on reality.
‘The breakup scenario is already written, by the way,’ she said, before he could say anything. Pulling away. ‘Apparently, I’m going to call the wedding off because Rupert is a workaholic, too absorbed in business to spend time with me. True, as it happens. Sadness, but no recriminations. Nothing sordid. Just a quiet fade out of the relationship once the stores are open and the brand established.’
‘You went seriously off message this afternoon.’
‘I lost the plot big time, but that’s what you get for employing amateurs.’
‘I can see why he’s desperate to get the file back. The tabloids would have a field day with this.’ And, from looking deep into her eyes, he was suddenly looking at something in the distance above her head. ‘I’m not just talking about his underactive libido.’ She didn’t miss the edge to his voice as he added, ‘You could make a fortune.’
‘Yes, I could. I could have phoned one of the tabloids this afternoon. But I don’t want a drama, Nathaniel. I just want to disappear. Get my life back. Be ordinary.’
‘But you’re Lucy B,’ he pointed out.
‘I know. That’s why I can’t let him get away with what he’s doing. Why I can’t just disappear. Because that’s not the end of it.’
‘There’s more?’
‘He wants his file back because all that lovely stuff about fair trade fashion is a bunch of baloney.’
‘Baloney?’
‘Lies, falsehoods, untruths. There is a fair trade company, but it’s just a front. The actual clothes, shoes, accessories will still be made by the same sweatshop workers he used for the old stuff. That’s why he’s desperate to retrieve the file.’
He said just one word. Then, ‘I’m sorry…’
‘No need to apologise. You’ve got it. The man has all the morals of a cowpat.’ She stuffed her hands deep in her pockets. ‘That’s why I was so angry. Why I couldn’t think straight. When the media circus took off like a rocket, bigger than anything they had imagined, and a headline writer shortened my name to Lucy B, Marketing ditched the names they’d been playing with and grabbed it. He’s going to use my name-on the shop fronts, on the labels, everywhere-use me to sell his lie. That’s what today’s press conference was about. To unveil the look of the stores. Tell the world about the jobs he’s creating, both here and in the Third World. Impress the public with his new caring image, impress the shareholders with profit forecasts.’
‘That’s…’ For a moment he didn’t seem to be able to find a word. And then he did. ‘Dangerous.’
Not reassuring-she’d been a lot less bothered by the expletive-and, despite the down jacket, she shivered.
‘You’re cold,’ he said. ‘Let’s go home. Get you back in the warm.’
Diary update:
Nathaniel didn’t say anything until they were near the store, then he reached out and, hand on her arm, said, ‘Out of sight, I think.’
She didn’t argue, but ducked down until the barrier clanged behind them and he’d pulled into a parking bay and switched off the engine. Released his seat belt.
‘You saw something?’ she asked as she slid down from the seat without waiting for him to help her.
Nat shook his head, put his arm around her shoulders and swept her towards the lift, wanting her inside, out of sight. Regretting the crazy impulse to go out in the snow. Anyone might have seen her.
The guy at the hot dog stall wouldn’t forget two idiots who’d gone out to play in the snow, stood for ever, eating hot dogs and talking.
‘What’s bothering you?’ she asked.
‘I hadn’t realised… This is a lot more serious than I thought, Lucy.’
He keyed in the code and breathed more easily when the door clicked shut behind them, shedding his coat and gloves, kicking off his boots. It was probably the first time he’d actually been glad to be home since he’d moved into the apartment. The first time it had felt like home. A sanctuary.
‘You’re scaring me,’ Lucy said, cold hands fumbling with her zip.
He stopped her. Not cold, just shaking, he discovered and, instead of unzipping it for her, he put his arms around her, held her, because he was scared for her.
This wasn’t simply some romance gone wrong. It wasn’t even just an amoral PR campaign that meant heads would roll right up to boardroom level.
‘Nathaniel? Now you’re really worrying me!’
He let her go, unzipped her jacket, helped her out of it. ‘Okay. While the fake romance would be an embarrassment to Henshawe, I’ve no doubt he could contain the damage, but the fair trade thing is fraud.’
‘Fraud?’
‘It’s going to seriously damage him and the Henshawe Corporation when it gets out. The Lucy B chain will be history, his shareholders will want blood and he’ll be facing a police investigation.’
‘You’re talking jail time?’ she asked, shocked.
‘He’s probably shredding papers as fast as he can right now. Talking to his suppliers to cover his tracks. But, while you’ve got his file, written proof of what he did, he’s not safe and I believe that a man who has the morals of a cowpat would go to any lengths to stop that from happening.’
‘You’re saying that I’m in danger?’
Before he could answer, the phone rang and he unhooked it from the wall. ‘Hart.’
‘Nat, it’s Bryan. Sorry to disturb you, but I’ve just had a call from the police.’
His heart rate picked up. ‘And?’
‘It seems they’ve had a missing person report. A woman called Lucy Bright. The WAG of some billionaire. She was last seen heading this way just after four this afternoon and appears to have vanished off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but the timing is right and the description matches the woman you saw this afternoon.’
‘Did you mention that to the police?’ he asked, reaching out a hand as he saw the colour drain from Lucy’s face.
‘No. It might not have been her and I assumed that you wouldn’t want policemen crawling all over the store talking to the staff. Or the ensuing press invasion. Not until we’re sure, anyway.’
‘Good call.’
‘I searched the name on the internet and I’m about to send you a photograph as an email attachment. In the meantime, I’ve initiated a sweep of the premises, just to cover ourselves.’
‘Right…’ Then, ‘You were in the force, Bryan. Isn’t it unusual for them to get involved in something like this so quickly?’
‘It depends who’s missing. And why.’
Nat listened as he detailed all the likely reasons why the police had got involved so quickly. Suspected violence, theft… He never took his eyes off Lucy who, her free hand to her mouth, was watching him with growing
