‘Several things. I’ve got a late meeting so I’ll have to forgo our six-thirty debriefing, but I do happen to have a couple of tickets for the Royal Opera House charity gala. A client sent them to me. I was going to give them away but maybe it’s time to take our relationship on its first real public outing.’ Then, when he didn’t immediately respond, ‘I’m asking you out on a date, Max. If you don’t say yes within the next thirty seconds I might just die of embarrassment.’
‘What time do you want me to pick you up?’
She’d expected more reaction. Didn’t he realise just how big a deal this was for her? Was she being a complete fool? About to ask him, she decided she didn’t want to know and let it go.
‘I’ll have to meet you at the theatre. No later than seven-fifteen,’ she warned. ‘It’s a royal performance so we’ll all have to be seated before the Queen arrives.’
‘Seven-fifteen.’ He nodded. ‘So, what would you like to do this evening?’
‘I’m going to see my mother, remember?’ Weirdly she felt only relief. ‘Want to come?’ she teased.
‘Scared what she’ll say about us? Want some protection?’ he replied, picking up the beat.
‘No!’ Then, ‘Well, maybe, just a bit.’
‘She’ll be so glad to see you, Lou, she wouldn’t care if you’d dyed your hair green. Give her my love.’
‘I will. But more importantly,’ she said, ‘I’ll give her mine.’ She hailed a passing cab, then lifted herself up on her toes, kissed his cold cheek. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Seven-fifteen.’
Max watched her go, a mixture of feeling churning around inside him. He’d had to know what the deal was with James. If she was really bouncing back, using the undeniable sexual charge between them, using him to wipe the other man from her mind.
Now he knew the truth. And it terrified the life out of him.
The world seemed like a freshly minted place and the evening positively sparkled as Louise stepped out of the taxi outside the theatre. She had spent the previous evening with her parents, talking about her adoption, about how putting off telling her the truth had gradually, without anyone actually making a decision, become a permanent situation. Because it hadn’t seemed to matter. She was their daughter. Why complicate things?
It had seemed that simple.
But now together, they had faced up to the mistakes of the past and, as a family, were looking forward to a brighter happier future, she thought, smiling as she paid her fare, looked around, certain that Max would be there waiting for her. Or maybe he was already inside, a drink waiting…
Or then again, maybe not, she thought, after she’d fought her way through the crush to the bar and realised he wasn’t there.
She glanced at her watch. It was okay. He had another five minutes. She bought a programme, glanced through it, conscious of being alone in a crowd in which everyone else had someone to talk to.
An announcement asked people to take their seats.
She went back outside. Took out her cellphone, checked for messages. Nothing.
She could ring him, but, actually, what was the point?
On the stroke of half past, she dropped the programme in the nearest litter bin and hailed a taxi.
Gemma put her head around the door. ‘Have you got your mobile turned off, Lou? Max says he’s been trying to get you since last night.’
‘That can’t be right. Max apparently doesn’t know my mobile number.’
‘Louise…’
‘I’ll say one thing for you, Max, you’re consistent,’ she said, not looking up from her desk. She heard the office door close as Gemma left them in private. ‘And I’m dumb. You’ve been standing me up since I was sixteen. A smart woman would have got the message by now. A decent man would have learned not to make dates he didn’t intend to keep.’
She made a careful note on the file in front of her, waited for the excuse. She knew it would be good. He’d had a lot of practice.
‘The Chelsea kitchen flooded.’
Yes, that was good, and no doubt true, since all she had to do was pick up a phone and check for herself.
And she wasn’t unreasonable. It was a crisis. They happened. All he’d had to do was call her. She wouldn’t have been happy, but she’d have understood.
When he didn’t continue, didn’t offer an apology, she finally looked up. A mistake.
Until now, she’d been protected from her feelings, had believed that to love him in this way was wrong. Inside that shell she’d been able to keep up the pretence that she loathed him. It wasn’t just a dress that she’d let fall at her feet, it had been the armour plating with which she’d protected herself. There was more than one way of being naked…
‘You want me to use that in the marketing campaign?’ she prompted, attempting to regain that lost ground.
‘You’re angry.’
‘Only with myself,’ she said, with a dismissive gesture. Before she could resume reading the report in front of her, he caught her hand.
‘Please, sweetheart, try to understand.’
She swallowed. His hand was cool, strong, but then he was strong. He’d always been the first one to leap in to take care of problems. Always been there when a broad pair of shoulders was needed. She’d seen him taking care of the staff, concerned about their welfare. Knew he’d paid for private treatment for Martin’s wife. She couldn’t fault his commitment, his kindness. She just wanted a little of that for herself.
‘It was lucky I was there. No one seemed to know where to find the cockstop.’
He sounded so sincere, so reasonable. But it wasn’t reasonable. It was an excuse.
He was the one who’d challenged her over the secrecy of their relationship, implied that she was running scared. But she wasn’t the one with the problem. It was him. All night she’d been going over it. Remembering how, when she’d been alone in defending him, declaring herself, he’d been silent. The only time he’d spoken up was for his precious family. Desperate to hold it together, even though, for him, it had always been falling apart…
He never let the business down. Only her. How many times did it have to happen before she got it through her thick skull.
‘Bad management, Max.’
That got to him. Hit him where it hurt…
‘Walking away to keep a date with you would have made that better? How? The staff carried on, working up to their ankles in water-’
‘Bonuses all round for them, no doubt-’
‘They earned it! We rely on them every night of the year. They have to be able to rely on me, too!’
Of course they did. She knew that. She even understood. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.
‘Then you did what was most important to you. You have nothing to reproach yourself for,’ she said.
‘Of course I reproach myself. I let you down but it was long past curtain-up before I’d got everything under control. Then I had to go home and get changed.’
On the point of telling him to close the door on the way out, she hesitated. ‘Changed?’
His smile was wry. ‘I had a clean shirt in the restaurant, but I needed shoes, socks, trousers…’
Without warning she had a mental picture of him, wading into the situation, not caring about his dinner jacket, dress shirt. About her, waiting for him at the theatre. All he would see was the people who worked for him, whom he knew, cared about, struggling to cope, to carry on as if nothing had happened. How could you not love a man like that?
How could you live with him?
Because this was the reality of a relationship with Max.
‘I came to the theatre to meet you.’ He reached for her hand. ‘Waited until everyone had gone.’
‘Am I supposed to apologise for not being there?’
He shook his head. ‘I’d tried calling you. When you didn’t answer, I assumed you’d decided to stay at the theatre. But then, when I came to the flat, you didn’t answer your bell, either. And you’d put the deadlock up on the door.’
‘You call before you stand someone up. Not to apologise afterwards.’ Then, relenting, because she couldn’t help herself, ‘All you had to do was ring me. Two minutes…’
