The Ruby Riot Series: Box Set Part 105

Mum wipes her hands on a stripy tea towel. "Welcome home, Riley."

"I'm so sorry, thank you for everything."

"Always, you know that." Mum embraces me; her scent pulling me back to rare childhood hugs as the damp towel brushes my neck.

"Did you walk home?" asks Josh. "Was it a long way?"

I laugh. "No, I had to wait for a big snowplough."

"Did you have a friend to talk to?" he asks.

I blink away the days with Nate; five minutes and our time already retreats into dream-like memories. "I made some new friends, yes."

Dishes rest on the drainer and the sink is filled with soapy bubbles. Mum flicks the switch on the kettle. "Tea?"

"G.o.d no, I need a decent coffee. I've drunk enough tea to last an eternity." I grab the coffee beans from the cupboard nearby and switch on the coffee machine.

"Mummy, look, I have a new game." Josh lifts his iPad from the kitchen table.

"Lucky you. Show me." I sit on a chair and pull Josh onto my knee, vowing to make changes I spent the last week mulling over. My work life will move to second place and I'll make plans on how to introduce everybody to the reality of who I am. This decision crystallised in the snow; I prepare myself to admit the truth, to tell the world about something I've kept as a guilty secret when he should be anything but. Once Josh is fully in my world, I can move on and find some happiness. Continuing the charade became too easy; but now I see, all along I've made life harder for myself.

Here is the most important person in my world, running his fingers across a brightly coloured screen, in my arms. I bury my face in his hair, and my heart hurts when he smells of Mum, not me. I've made so many mistakes with him, and I won't do that anymore.

My step out of life has pulled me directly into what should be my real one. Here. Now. My son. I love him, he's the centre of everything; but in my screwed up way, I thought if I kept him on the edge, we were both protected. This love for him isn't a weakness. My decision to have my baby was the right thing, but now it's time for me to grow up.

But what about Nate? Will I hear from him? And what about our no strings plans? If I announce Josh to the world, Nate will run. I'm d.a.m.n sure of that. No strings or not, a single mother isn't a rock star's choice of partner. There're a h.e.l.l of a lot strings to me, and we're not starting from a level place.

As long as we don't go back to animosity, I can cope with what happened over the last few days as a one-off situation. I can pack up my feelings for Nate and store them away again. I won't have any choice.

And I'm lying to myself.

"We're going on holiday," I announce.

"Where?" asks Josh.

"Somewhere hot with beaches and swimming pools and lots of c.o.c.ktails for Nanna."

Mum shakes her head. "You need a holiday, but you don't need to take me with you."

"Yes, I do! And not to babysit Josh, but for you to relax." I pause. "For us all to relax."

"Well, that sounds like a lovely idea." She sits opposite me. "You look tired, Riley. You should rest."

"You don't believe me about the holiday, do you?"

"As soon as I see the holiday booking, I will."

"How about after dinner we take a look on the computer?" I ask Josh and squeeze him tight again. "We can look at hotels and you can help me choose one."

"Can we go to somewhere with a zoo?" he asks.

"Of course."

Mum's right. I'm exhausted; drained by the stress. You'd think sitting in a pub for four days wouldn't tire me this much, but the four days seems like four weeks. A year. I want to shower and collapse in bed, and re-energise myself for the changes I need to make.

Only once I've given the last reserves of energy I have to the person who needs it tonight. I hug Josh close. I left a part of myself in that pub, and I gave a part to Nate that I didn't mean to.

22.

RILEY.

Despite my intentions, I return to work on Monday and say nothing. The train arrives in London, and the new Riley remains at home. Tomorrow. Next week. I can't today, too much to fix up from my missing days. Not the right time. Too many meetings.

The same excuses I've made why not to tell work about Josh, again and again, and now comes another.

Wait until Nate has left my life again.

Back to smoke and mirrors.

Soon.

My PA, Jenna, greets me with a hug and words of concern, but doesn't mention Nate. Which means she's dying to.

She holds up a pile of opened mail and gives a sympathetic smile. "I dealt with what I could."

"G.o.d, I don't even want to check my desk."

"It's not too bad; you were dealing with what you could when you were away."

"True."

She types something, long nails clattering against the keyboard. "I changed the meeting with Mitch.e.l.l Simmons to ten. Is that okay?"

"What?"

"Mitch.e.l.l Simmons. The guy from Duxton PR, he's working with us on the Cole Daniels event."

"I know who he is, but c.r.a.p, I'd forgotten he was over here already."

Cole Daniels, Hollywood darling, and the chief patron of a teen cancer charity, Gold Lily Foundation. He's untouchable, and his PR company is fiercely protective of their client and his privacy. He's in the UK for the first time in years, making a movie, and is taking advantage of his time here to hold a prestigious fundraiser. There's an untapped celebrity market eager to a.s.sociate their name with his and gain extra popularity points for putting their money into good deeds.

Cole's PR company in the States doesn't have an office over here. We've worked with them before on other client projects; and after a lot of negotiation, I talked them into using us for coordinating the event, and our contacts to help get the best prices, and even persuade some to donate their services free.

This is huge. An event, if successful, to push us up there with the echelons of other London PR firms. Sure, we manage Ruby Riot and Blue Phoenix, but this guy blows the rest of the A-list out of the water; the highest paid celebrity of last year, according to Forbes magazine.

I've not dealt with Cole personally yet, and within the industry, he's famous for his precious att.i.tude. Cole, apparently, is an arrogant, unapproachable guy who fame corrupted. This guy gets away with anything he likes because he's worth the money the movie studios pay for him. They reap the rewards and meet his whims.

I've been warned by the company directors to rein in my authoritarian att.i.tude because he won't accept my typical att.i.tude; I'll have to grit my teeth and suck it up. Ruby Riot are dream clients compared to Cole. Mitch.e.l.l must have some skill to keep the actor under the radar as much as he does.

"Have you met Mitch.e.l.l yet?" I ask. "Please tell me he's nothing like his client."

A coy smile plays around the edge of Jenna's lips. "No. Nice guy. Hot. Wait until you meet him, he's so lovely."

Oh, no. "He's obviously charmed you. Asked you to do much for him while I was away?"

"Well, he had some calls he couldn't make, and he really didn't like his hotel room, so I helped him change that, and then-"

"Definitely a charmer, then. You're easily led, Jenna," I tease.

Her cheeks tinge pink. "No, he's new to London and needed my help."

"Mmm. I doubt that." I take the papers from her and leaf through them. "Ten, did you say?"

"Would you like me to give you a five minute warning?"

"I guess. Where are we meeting?"

"I organised the main conference room, thought it would be better than your office."

"Good. Looks like I need to call Jess at ACL to check the ad creative before I meet Mitch.e.l.l because it's not here."

"Would you like me to get you a coffee?" Jenna stands.

"Sounds good."

And just like that, I'm back in my role. Riley Sawyer, PR manager, organising, coordinating, and keeping my mind busy. Firmly back in my comfort zone, I settle back at my desk and fire up my laptop.

The call to Jess doesn't go well. A number of people I contact this morning are less than understanding about my enforced absence; and some don't believe I was trapped at all, but chose to stay for a not-so-secret holiday with Nate Campbell.

Whatever. Pressing issues sorted, I flick through my diary to figure out what I can move in my schedule to arrange the holiday with Josh and Mum.

The door opens and closes, but I don't look up. "Thanks, Jenna."

"You've called me a few things before, but not a girl's name."

I snap my head up. Nate holding a cup. No, Nate holding a cup and a friendly smile. "Where did you come from?"

"h.e.l.lo to you too." His mouth quirks into the smile that breaks my heart every time, because I always want him to smile at me like this but know one day he'll stop. "Jenna let me through. I'm your client, remember, even if you don't want anything to do with Ruby Riot these days?" He sets the coffee on my desk and the smile creeps further across his face. "Or most of Ruby Riot."

"Funny."

"Heh. I told her I had something urgent to talk to you about."

"By coming in here, you've basically told the world something happened between us."

"Nah." Nate flops onto the yellow sofa in the corner of my office. "How've you been?"

"Since I saw you two days ago? Warm. Dry. Away from the smell of stale beer. You?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" I mimic. "I didn't expect to see you. Our goodbye wasn't exactly heartfelt."

Nate pulls his face into an apology. "I know. I'm a bit s.h.i.t at that. Felt uncomfortable. Y'know. Will."

"All good. I told you, we can put our behaviour down to boredom."

"And l.u.s.t."

"And my long dry spell."

We share a smile and the dam breaks again. I want this man. I can't even express to myself how much and my head hurts at my own to and fro. I'm terrified of myself, of how he makes me feel, and the mess I'll end up in.

He wants to see me. Nate came here. He doesn't want to let go either.

The reality of what happened in Yorkshire hits. We haven't drawn a line and left behind what happened, and it doesn't seem Nate wants to either.

"We should talk, Nate."

"That's why I came to see you. And don't sit behind your desk. I feel like I'm at an interview."

I wheel back my chair and stand. Nate bites the piercing at the edge of his lip as he takes in my short, black dress and low heels. "Professional Riley."

"Rock star Nate."

My stomach tightens as Nate approaches, tall figure closing in on me as I rest against the edge of the desk.

How do I deal with the situation? My ordinary life carries on around me, one Nate's put himself in the centre of it by coming here when I honestly believed he'd return to the edge.

He runs a hand along the side of my head, where my hair is gathered upwards into a loose bun. "You never wore your hair up in Yorkshire."

"I'm working." I attempt to turn my head but he catches my cheek and turns my face to his.

"Got time to play?" he whispers.

His words send a rush of arousal through me at the suggestion from the man who plays well. Nate slides his fingers along the nape of my neck and loosens the band in my hair. He yanks the band out and my hair falls across my shoulders.

"Better." He snaps the hair band around his wrist.

Oh, G.o.d. This man's c.o.c.ky surety once p.i.s.sed me off, but is now one of the biggest b.l.o.o.d.y turn ons. "You don't smell of oranges anymore," I say, wresting back self-control.