Cupcakes At Carrington's Part 11

'So we're agreed then? This will be our secret? I really don't want you getting dragged into the divorce proceedings ... Rebecca is desperate to try and pin something on me, and as she refuses to move out until the house is sold ... well, it's complicated.' He drops his eyes.

'Oh James, of course that's fine,' I agree, thinking it's probably better this way until I see where it's going.

We leave the bar, stumbling and giggling our way up the narrow bas.e.m.e.nt steps, the fresh evening air exhilarating as we reach the pavement, where James grabs hold of my hand. For a moment it feels strange as his warm fingers entwine mine. I can't believe what's happened this evening. Only a few hours ago he was off-limits.

'You OK?' he says, heading towards the taxi rank, which is deserted.

'I'm great. Never better.'

At the end of the road a taxi with its light off performs a swift U-turn and grinds to a halt alongside us.

'I'm on my way home, going east, so if you're heading in my direction?' James turns to me, and as he lives the opposite way I presume the evening is over. He puts a finger on my lips and leans down to whisper into my ear.

'I'm so glad we've finally got together,' he says, softly. I tiptoe up, intending to kiss him on the cheek, but he gently turns my face towards his and kisses me tenderly, his lips soft on mine, his hand around my waist, pulling me in close. My stomach flips and my right foot actually pops up like it always does for the heroine in those soppy films.

'Sorry to break up the party.' It's the taxi driver, and he's tapping the meter. We instantly break away. James looks into my eyes and I just know he wants to continue things. In an instant I realise that I do too. I forget all my reservations and decide to go for it.

'It's Mercer Street,' James says to the taxi driver as he pulls open the door for me. I step inside and reach my hand out to his.

'Are you sure?' he asks, and I block out the doubts, focusing on the moment instead.

'Yes,' I smile. James gets in beside me and puts his arm around my shoulders. I cuddle into him and savour the feeling of antic.i.p.ation at what the rest of the evening will be like. And then I remember, I still haven't managed to tell him about the extra commission coming through from Malikov. He'll be so chuffed. Perhaps we'll even go on that holiday after all. But I don't want to talk about work and spoil our night together, so I make a mental note instead before turning towards him for another kiss.

19.

'Oh my G.o.d. Tell me again. And start right from the beginning, and don't you dare leave out any details. A girl needs details. Start at the bit where he threw you on the bed and ripped your knickers off,' Sam breathes in a whispery voice right into my ear. It's the morning after and we're huddled next to each other in a booth at the far corner of the cafe. I just couldn't wait to tell her, so the very minute James left my flat this morning, I sent Sam a text and we agreed to meet in here right away before I start work.

'Cheeky, I didn't say he ripped my knickers off,' I say, remembering how gloriously slow and s.e.xy he was.

'I know. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of embellishment to spice things up even more.' Sam laughs. 'And you are glowing girl. Glowing. It's like there's a s.e.x aura all around you.' She laughs and I nudge her in the ribs.

'Shush, someone might hear you. He said to be discreet the divorce, remember.'

'I know.' She rolls her eyes. 'And you know what this means?' Sam says, stifling a squeal of excitement.

'What?'

'Valentine's Day! A few more dates in the bag and you'll practically be an established couple by then. What will you get him? I'm treating Nathan to an exquisite La Perla Frou Frou ruffled tulle balcony with matching ruffleback knickers and a pair of sky-high cherry-red Choo's.'

'Wow, I didn't know Jimmy Choo made man-size heels too,' I say, my mind working overtime at the possibility of spending Valentine's Day with James. I wonder if he's been invited to Tina's wedding? Bound to be. We could go together maybe Mrs Grace was right after all.

'Ha ha, very funny. Soo, one down. And one to go.'

'What do you mean?'

'The bombsh.e.l.l. Tom of course ... keep all your options open, I say.'

'Stop it!' I smile, but the mention of Tom makes me feel uncomfortable suddenly, and I'm not sure I even want to think about why that might be.

'But he's sooo HOT he's practically on fire,' she shouts with such indignation it makes me laugh out loud. I slap a hand over my mouth when one of the waitresses, Stacey, looks up from a table she's wiping nearby.

'You know, it still hasn't quite sunk in yet, this thing with James,' I whisper, pausing to ponder for a moment. 'Maybe it was a dream,' I add ... and maybe something inside me is beginning to wish it was.

'It was no dream, trust me. Nothing gets past me, not when it comes to men. This is real, babeee,' Sam says, her voice jumping up a couple of notes.

'Yes, you're right.' But I can't stop those doubts resurfacing. 'What if it's too soon?'

'What do you mean?'

'You know ... sleeping with him on the first date,' I say, keeping my voice really low.

'Don't be daft. You've known each other for years. Besides, it's the second date, if you want to get really specific about it.' She laughs and nudges me gently. 'Anyway, that's what the suffragettes did for us, they gave us that choice.' I grin at her bizarre logic. Maybe she's right, lots of people have flings, why shouldn't I?

'That's better,' Sam says as she sees me smile. 'So, are you feeling better about the job thing?' She winks.

'Stop it.' I smile furtively. 'Yes, I suppose so, but knowing about him and Maxine makes me feel uncomfortable,' I add, thinking what a double whammy it would be if I were to lose my job and the pair of them got back together.

'Did you ask him about her?'

'Yes, and he seems to be OK with the situation.'

'Well, there you go. Nothing to worry about then.'

'I'm not so sure. James might be over it but I don't trust Maxine. She's up to something.'

'I don't blame you for being wary. You know she called me yesterday. Apparently she's well aware that sales a.s.sistants are covering for each other so they can "abscond" during work hours to visit the cafe. Said she would appreciate it if I didn't indulge them as they're putting Carrington's in jeopardy. Can you believe that? Good job I have lots of other customers, or I'd be out of business once word of that gets around,' Sam snorts.

'See what I mean. She's horrible. And I wouldn't put it past her to sack me and give James my section just to try and win him back, leaving me joining the dole queue. Or ... she'll find out he stayed last night, get all jealous and try to ruin it some other way.' Sam shakes her head. 'And OK, I know staff shouldn't be bunking off, but we've all been coming to the cafe for like forever, and it's practically recycling if we spend our wages in here, then it's just going back into the store.'

'Good point. Although technically it doesn't because I lease the s.p.a.ce, so the money goes to me, but hey ... it's a nice thought. Hold on!' Sam clutches my arm, with a worried look on her face. 'You don't think she'll suggest ending my lease and putting Carrington's staff in here instead, do you, as part of her revamp?'

'Why would you think that?'

'I don't know, but a memo came this morning, inviting a member of my staff on some team-building thing.'

'That's weird,' I say, trying to work out if Sam's fear is founded. 'Oh well, maybe it was just a mistake,' I add, erring on the side of optimism. 'My session is the first Sunday in Feb. What will you do? Can't you nominate yourself and keep me company?'

'Would do hun, but I've already promised Dad I'd accompany him to some really important polo match business function.'

'Hmm,' I groan, feeling disappointed.

'I'll make Ciaran go instead. He could do with a bit of team building. Serve him right for not telling me, his TEAM MATE, about the engagement,' she snorts. 'Besides, won't James be going?'

'Ooh, I forgot about that, I checked the list and he's down for the same session.'

'See, wouldn't you rather he keep you company?' Sam pauses for a moment, then claps a hand to her mouth. 'Oh my G.o.d, I can't believe I haven't told you yet.'

'What?' I say, suddenly desperate to hear her news.

'Nathan has invited me to his parents' holiday home in Italy. Can you believe it? Not a mini-break either, no a whole week.' Sam is beside herself with glee and sounds as though she's swallowed a can of helium.

'That's fantastic!' Her excitement is infectious. 'Tell me all about it,' I demand, leaning in closer to her.

'Well, his parents live by Lake Como and he wants me to meet them. They're celebrating their golden wedding anniversary, on February the fourteenth, and, well, he's invited me to the party, and to meet them of course,' she says, sounding all bubbly and happy.

'Oh Sam, I'm so thrilled for you. I take it you two are serious then?' I ask, hoping that's the case.

'Yep, meeting the parents, it doesn't get more serious than that. And Dad is thrilled.'

'I bet he is, and I'm really pleased for you too. Just imagine ... both of us with a man at the same time that's a rarity.'

'Sure is.'

And then it dawns on me.

'Hang on a minute. Did you say February the fourteenth? As in Valentine's Day?'

'Yes, so romantic. Why?' she replies, slowly.

'That's the day of Tina's wedding. I was hoping you'd come with me.' My heart sinks at the thought of having to go on my own or, worse, with Maxine.

'Sorry hun, no can do, I'm not missing this for anything or anyone not Ciaran, not even my best friend.' Sam laughs. 'James will be going, though yet another chance to keep you company.'

'Ahh, good thinking,' I say, immediately perking up at the thought.

'Anyway, I'll be there for the hen do. You know she's asked me to provide a gourmet lunch? Money no object, apparently, as long as there's a ma.s.sive macaroon mountain and a chocolate fountain, she said. I was surprised to see your name on the catering list though.'

'I was surprised too. I think I'm only invited so she can spend the day making out I'm jealous. She thinks I'm after Ciaran,' I say, breathing a sigh of relief that Sam will be around to ease the tension.

'Mmm, is he still hanging around you a lot?'

'Not really. We tweet, that's all.'

'Still think he fancies you,' Sam says, raising her eyebrows.

'Stop it.'

'Fine. But it could explain why she's so jealous. Besides, you don't have to go to the hen do.' My heart lifts at the prospect of snubbing Tina's half-baked invite and not going, after all.

'I know, but I should keep her sweet. She's already had a word,' I roll my eyes, 'about my sales sheet, making threats to withhold my commission. I can't afford for her to be awkward about it and deliberately delay the payment or something,' I say. I'm banking on it to pay towards my car tax due this month.

We say our goodbyes, and as I pull my bag onto my shoulder, my mobile buzzes. It's a text message from James and I feel a soft tingle as I tap the view b.u.t.ton to read it.

Thank you for a wonderful night. Sorry I had to dash off x.

I hug the phone to my chest, knowing last night might have felt like a dream but the message right here on the screen proves it was definitely real. I refuse to think of the consequences for now. It's just so great feeling buzzy and desirable again, for the first time since Brett broke my heart. And maybe, just maybe, I'll have an actual bona-fide date for Valentine's Day ...

20.

The atmosphere on the shop floor is feverish. Every time a customer emerges through the revolving doors there's practically a stampede to get to them first. We're all desperate to grab the sales, although I've noticed Tom doesn't join in the melee. Instead he spends most of the time talking in a hushed voice into the phone behind his counter, schmoozing brand managers for personal shopper leads, no doubt.

It's been a while since my night with James and, although we've b.u.mped into each other a couple of times in the staff room, he's been pretty distant with me, so I can't help wondering if it was just a one-night stand after all. Maybe it's too soon he's not even divorced yet or maybe he wants to get back with Maxine instead. Or perhaps he's just decided it's totally inappropriate, given the work situation. I try to put it out of my mind, but then, almost as though the universe is listening, the phone behind my counter rings.

'Georgina, we have a ma.s.sive bunch of flowers here for you.' My mood lifts as Betty gives me the news. Slamming the phone down, I rush to the switchboard room and pluck the card from the hand-tied arrangement of lipstick-pink roses. The message is cryptic.

Until next time.

Trust James to be so discreet. I hug the flowers to me, revelling in our secret, and the doubt in my mind instantly disappears.

'So, who's the admirer then?' one of the guys from Menswear bellows the minute I arrive in the staff room. I ignore him and place the flowers in the sink.

Eddie saunters over to me.

'About time you got yourself a decent man,' he sniffs, then leans into me and whispers, 'Who is he?' For a brief second I contemplate telling him. I know I can trust him, but I decide not to, wanting to keep it quiet for a while longer.

'Oh, just some guy I met a few weeks ago.' I try to sound laid back, hoping the uncertainty in my voice doesn't let me down.

'Well, he must be keen. Flowers like that don't come cheap.' Eddie shakes his head knowingly.

'I know,' I say, mulling the implications over.

'G.o.d, is that the time?' he puffs dramatically, looking up at the wall clock. 'Catch you later, doll face. Madam has me running errands, got to collect something from HR.' He pushes his bottom lip out and is just about to leave when he turns back. 'Ooh, almost forgot, been meaning to tell you,' he says, lowering his voice.

'What is it?'

'Guess who I saw getting very intimate yesterday?' He steals a furtive look around the room.

'Who?' I say, immediately desperate to know.

'Only our resident supermodels, Tom and the tapeworm host,' he whispers, and I raise an eyebrow. 'The beautiful people actually snogging they were.'

'Really?' I ask, trying to sound indifferent, but I can't help leaning in, ready for his response. It shouldn't matter to me, but suddenly I find it does.