Wife After Wife, page 15
“We’re trying to decide where to put Harry Rose and his wife,” said her mother.
“Can we put them as close to the top table as possible?” said Percy.
“He’s just a work person, not family,” said Ana.
“Yet,” said her father.
“Pardon me?” said Percy.
“It’s OK, Mum and Dad know,” said Ana. “But I’ve put Mum right. Merry won’t be becoming Mrs. Rose anytime soon.”
“Never say never!” said Percy. “He’d make a pretty cool brother-in-law.”
Ana pushed back her chair and went to check on the roast. “Lunch in twenty minutes,” she snapped.
CHAPTER 21
Harry
June 1993
Harry closed his newspaper and swiveled his chair to look out the window. A healthy number of cranes punctuated the skyline, especially above Canary Wharf. It looked as if today’s headline was correct—the recession was finally over.
Unemployment had fallen below three million and was continuing to drop. Rose Corp. shares were climbing in value, and Harry was considering new areas for expansion. The internet was of particular interest. He’d ask his secretary to organize an initial brainstorming meeting with his senior executives.
He was about to buzz her when the phone rang. It was Merry.
“Hi, look, Merry, I’ve asked you not to—”
“Will’s dead, Harry.”
His stomach dropped, and for a moment he couldn’t speak.
“That’s terrible news. I’m so sorry. My condolences.”
“Thank you. The funeral will be in Scotland next week. Will you come?”
“I expect not, Merry. It . . . it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“But I need you, Harry. How can I get through this by myself?” Her tone was pleading. It made him go cold.
“The guy at the castle—Darius? He can handle things, surely.”
“Darius is in bits; he’s incapable of organizing anything.”
“Well. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“But, Harry—”
“Look, I’m sorry but I’m late for a meeting. And again, Merry, I’m so sorry. Will was a lovely chap. One of the best.”
He put the phone down.
Harry thought back to their school days, when Will had been the driving force behind Poetry Club, writing spectacularly bad Romantic odes for the school magazine. He hadn’t even made thirty. Harry was due to reach that milestone himself in a couple of weeks. He was too young to be confronting his own mortality.
Restless, he left his office and took the lift down to Hooray!’s floor. Striding down the corridor, causing a flurry of raised heads, he made his way to Ana’s office. He was glad to see she was alone, her dark head bent over contact sheets.
“Ana,” he said, closing the door behind him.
She looked up and blushed charmingly. “Harry. What can I do for you?”
Kiss me? Take me to bed? Love me?
“I just heard about Will. Merry rang.”
Ana looked taken aback, and he wondered if it was because this was the first time in all these months he’d mentioned her sister.
“I heard this morning too,” she said. “We’re all so sad.”
“He was one of life’s good guys, heart of gold.” Harry pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her. “Merry thinks I should go to the funeral, but I’m not intending to. I wasn’t a close friend, and I bloody hate funerals. Too hard . . .” He took a deep breath.
Ana regarded him steadily. He tried to read the expression in her dark eyes but found it impossible. She was difficult to fathom.
“Why does she think you should go?” she said finally.
“Support, I suppose. But it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“No.”
“Ana—”
“Harry, it’s best you don’t discuss Merry with me. I’d prefer to keep things—well, work only.”
Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Fair enough. You’ll be going to the funeral, I suppose?”
“Yes. I can support Merry, you don’t need to worry.”
“I wasn’t. God, Ana, I can’t believe he’s gone. He wasn’t even thirty. The death of a friend—it makes you take stock of your life, your relationships. Like Charles, starting over with Megan. At least he’s got it right.”
“How’s your wife doing? Megan told me she’s feeling brighter.”
Harry made a dismissive gesture. “Katie’s had these problems forever. She gets better, then something sets her back. She relies a lot on her faith—I’m not sure I’m much help. We got together years ago. Now it just feels like a habit.”
Ana fiddled with a pen, clicking the nib in and out, not meeting his eyes. “She seems lovely. I hope she’s better soon.”
“Are you still marrying Percy?”
Her eyes flew to his. “I—yes. Of course!”
He grinned. “Just wondered. Can’t let my most promising member of staff marry any old idiot, can I?”
Ana chuckled.
“Honest opinion? Not good enough for you.”
“So you’re my dad now?”
“If I was, I’d send him packing.”
“Wouldn’t work. Forbidden love is the best kind.”
“Isn’t it just?”
Ana’s smile faded. “Are you going to marry Merry?”
What should he say about the affair? His conscience told him to be honest. “No. It was only ever a casual thing. She knows that.”
“Actually, Harry, she doesn’t.”
“Oh? Then I need to talk to her. But let’s get through the funeral first. She’ll have an awful lot on her plate.”
“She told me you two are in love.”
Harry was filled with dismay. It was going to be harder to extricate himself from the Merry situation than he’d imagined. He’d tried to ignore her increasing clinginess, her neediness. That wasn’t what he’d signed up to at all. He should have ended it sooner. Now Ana would think he was a cad for dumping her when she was at her most vulnerable. And what Ana thought was all that mattered.
“Merry’s delightful, but it isn’t . . . it never was, serious. We’ve just—”
“Harry, please don’t share this with me. She’s my sister and you’re my boss; you’re putting me in a difficult position.”
“Ana . . .” He leaned forward, holding her gaze. His heart was in his mouth. “I can’t keep . . . I need to tell you. I want to be more than your boss.”
He’d said it.
Ana’s beautiful eyes widened, and he saw her intake of breath.
“Totally inappropriate boss behavior,” he said, in a lighter tone. “Wrong on so many levels. I’ve tried ordering my heart to behave, but . . . Ana, every time you’re near, I feel like I’m under a spell.”
“I—”
“You’re getting married, I know. Just be sure you’re making the right decision.”
The hesitance, the uncertainty in her eyes, gave him the encouragement he needed to carry on. “It’s over between Katie and me. Life’s too short. Don’t get married unless you’re one hundred percent sure. Promise me that.”
“I will. And—I am.”
But her eyes betrayed the lie.
* * *
• • •
Harry made his way back to the top floor, going over their conversation—every nuance of Ana’s words, every fleeting expression.
He’d done it. He’d told her how he felt.
Now he could start the serious business of wearing her down, until, like every woman he’d ever wanted, she’d be his.
Step one: deal with the opposition.
As the lift doors opened, he saw Connor Black waiting in the reception area. “Connor, sorry if I’ve kept you. Come on through.”
“Harry, mate.”
Connor was a hugely talented and precocious adman who was true to his East End roots. His TV ads had won all the awards going, and he’d already been offered feature-length films to direct.
They each took a sofa in Harry’s office, on either side of a low glass table.
“So, Harry, you said you had something important to discuss? Is it about the new campaign? I’m not happy with it myself yet.”
“No, Connor, I’m afraid it’s not. It’s about something a little more delicate.”
Connor’s self-confident gaze faltered. And so it should. Rose’s business was a huge part of their portfolio.
“Oh?”
“Percy North. You know he’s seeing a senior member of my staff?”
“Yes, Ana. Lovely girl. Very stylish, very posh.”
Harry ignored the comment.
“Through Ana, Percy has had . . . access to sensitive information. I’m afraid that information has reached ears it shouldn’t have, and Rose’s position has been somewhat compromised as a result.”
“Really? In what way? Can you be more specific?”
“No. Like I say, it’s sensitive. North should never have shared that information with your staff. He should have known better. I have zero confidence it won’t happen again.”
“I’ll give him a bollocking, mate. You can count on it.”
“Not good enough.” Harry sat back and crossed his legs, waiting.
“A written warning?”
“Won’t cut it.”
“So . . . what are you saying?”
“I need him off the business. From today.”
“Can do. I’ll move him across—”
“And out of London.”
“You what? Seriously?”
Harry leaned forward again. “Connor . . . mate. Percy North’s motormouth has caused me serious grief. I should really sack the agency.” He was gratified to see Connor turn pale.
“But if you send Percy North north, or west, or preferably overseas, I’m willing to continue our otherwise wholly satisfactory relationship. I’m happy with your work, Connor, but lose the bag carrier, OK?”
CHAPTER 22
Ana
Ana rewound the answerphone as she kicked off her shoes, sighing with pleasure as her bare feet met the tiled floor of the hallway. It had been another hot day in London, and people who were strangers to deodorant seemed to have been overrepresented on the tube home to Holland Park.
“Hi, Ana.” The voice was Percy’s. “Can I come over? I’ve got some news. Good news! We need to talk about it, though. Call me back.”
She went through to the kitchen and opened the fridge, enjoying the cold blast of air. Idly wondering when the weather would break, she had a sudden memory of the storm at last year’s launch party. Had it really been a year ago?
She poured herself a glass of Sancerre, then returned to the phone and dialed Percy’s number. “It’s me.”
“Ana! Finally you’re not working late. Can I come over? I’ve got some news.”
“You said. Why so mysterious? Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”
“I’d rather tell you in person. It’s major, and I need to . . . why don’t I just leave now? Shall I bring wine?”
“I have wine. Bring food, though, I’m starving.”
“What sort?”
“Indian would be good.”
“OK, Indian. What sort?”
“Percy, just get our usual. See you in a bit.”
Ana changed into a T-shirt and chinos, then took her drink into the living room and switched on the TV, flicking through the channels. She switched it off again. She couldn’t settle. Harry’s softly spoken words kept coming back to her: I want to be more than your boss.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and his image swam before her.
Dealing with unwanted advances wasn’t a new experience. She’d batted them off throughout her time in France. But Harry? A married man, her boss, her sister’s lover. How could he even think she’d consider going down that path?
She enjoyed his company, his quick wit; she’d admit to that. Sparring with him, whether verbally or over a tennis net, was strangely compelling. There was no denying his . . . lord, but he was beautiful. And his charisma, which threw every other man in the room into the shade. But then, the sun was dangerous, especially if you flew too close.
Ana had a horrible feeling that Merry was about to have an Icarus moment.
He was so arrogant, and he’d been dreadfully rude about Percy. How had he thought belittling her fiancé would make himself more attractive in her eyes? But she also had to admit that Harry brought out the worst in Percy.
Her fiancé arrived, wearing the new Calvin Klein jeans she’d bought for him, teamed with a black T-shirt. He looked cute, and she gave him a big hug. “You have no idea how pleased I am to see you.”
“Same, and I can’t wait to tell you what’s gone down today!”
They laid out the cartons on the table, spooning rice and curry onto their plates, unwrapping naan bread.
“Mm,” said Ana, tucking in. “Too busy to eat today. OK, international man of mystery. What’s the breaking news?”
Percy leaned in. “I told you it’s big.”
“You did. Now tell me what’s big.”
“OK. The big three at the agency, Connor, Matt—”
“I know who the big three are.”
“Right. They said that, apparently, in the next year or so, Ireland’s going to boom.”
“What?”
“Connor says it’s going to be the powerhouse of Europe. All sorts of investment is heading that way. Innovative new businesses, tech companies, start-ups. EU money will be sloshing about the place. So they want to be right in there, ready for when it all kicks off. And they’ve asked me to head it up. I’m going to be MD of BWG Dublin! Can you bloody believe it?” He sat back again, a huge grin on his face.
Ana looked away as she tried to interpret her feelings. Dismay. Annoyance. A sense of her destiny being messed with.
But none of the joy Percy was so obviously expecting.
“I realize it’s a massive thing for us,” he continued, finally picking up her consternation. “So I said I’d need to discuss it with you first. But the money’s a lot more than I’m on now, and there’s a relocation allowance. Have you ever been to Dublin? Apparently it’s a nice city. So—”
“So no.”
“What?”
“If you take the job, I won’t be coming.”
“Why not? You’ll be my wife! It’ll be a great start to our married life.”
“And my career? What would I do while you were MD’ing all over Dublin?”
“There are magazines in Ireland. And book publishers, ad agencies. You’d find a job easily with your experience.”
“It would be a step backward for me.”
“But we’d be together, and maybe, you know, we could start a family?”
Did he understand her at all?
“Percy, I love my job here. I’m doing well at Rose, and I don’t want a family for many, many years. I don’t want to live in Dublin. I’m sorry, I really am. It does sound like a good opportunity for you.”
“It is. And if I turned it down, they’d think I wasn’t serious about my career. I probably wouldn’t get another opportunity like it.”
“So take it, and we’ll see each other at weekends. Other couples do it, we’ll manage.”
“But, Ana, that’s no way to start a marriage. I want you there with me.”
Suddenly, Ana felt very tired. “It’s your choice, Percy. Take the job and we’ll see each other at weekends, or stay here. I’m not coming.”
“Whatever happened to supportive wives?” His tone was petulant. “Come on, Ana. It’ll be fun.” Wheedling now. “A new start. Ireland’s amazing.”
“Ireland’s wet. And I don’t know anyone there.”
He pushed back his chair and came around to her side of the table. Ana recoiled slightly as he dropped to one knee. “Ana, you’re everything to me. I can’t live without you. I’m begging you, come with me to Dublin.”
“If you can’t live without me, then stay here. And please get up.”
“To be honest, I don’t think I have a choice.” He stood up, brushed the knees of his Calvin Kleins, and went back to his side of the table.
“Of course you have a choice. You can turn it down and stay in the position you’re in now, can’t you?”
“The way they presented it to me, it was like they just assumed I’d go. And—well, I want to. I know winning the Rose account was great, but Connor’s so . . . he treats me like I’m his minion. I haven’t been happy for a while.”
“Well why didn’t you say? You should have told me! Maybe you should just leave.”
“Why would I move agencies when I’ve been given this opportunity?”
“Look, obviously Connor rates you, even if he doesn’t dish out the praise. So you could just turn it down, be more assertive? Demand to stay where you are.”
Percy now looked wholly uncomfortable. “Let me think about it. I’m not going to lie, I’m really disappointed. I thought this would be fantastic for us.”
“You weren’t to know. Look, let’s sleep on it, shall we?”
“Together?” said Percy hopefully.
“Of course.”
Ana had no appetite for the rest of her curry. It had been the most unsettling of days. The terrible news about Will. Harry’s visit to her office, the memory of which was crowding out the far more pressing problem Percy had just landed on her.
When they headed upstairs, Ana found she had little appetite for Percy’s kisses either.
* * *
• • •
“Early night, was it?” Charles winked at Ana from over by the toaster as she shuffled across to the kettle. It was six thirty, and she wondered how Charlie-boy could be so cheerful.
