The Bedroom Assignment
Page 45Jay was enough of an expert to know that this was going to get him nowhere. He stopped dead, a hand to his side.
What was he going to do? Somehow he had to put it right. He wanted—no, he needed—to wipe out that look of betrayal. Zoe had such an expressive face, God help him.
He breathed with care until the pain subsided. Then he straightened slowly.
What was he thinking? What did it matter how expressive her face was? She was an employee. A temporary employee, sure. But still she worked for him. She could be as expressive as she liked. It had nothing to do with him.
And yet—he had not liked it when she’d first come to work for him and she had told him he’d never be a candidate. He went hot, remembering. No, he had not liked that at all. He had told himself it was all for the best. But he had called her in to his office every chance he had. Some of his excuses had been so thin he’d half expected her to challenge them, too.
Face it, Jay. You broke your own rules with Zoe Brown. And you did it long before she spilled out her secrets.
He was shaken. He did some stretches, carefully. Then he walked back to his house, frowning. He did not even try to break into a jog.
Okay, so he’d broken his own rules. Well, he would pay his own price. He would keep out of the office as much as possible. Certainly he would keep away from Zoe. When her contract was up—well, then he could think again. But until then he would just give her some space.
He scanned his e-mail hourly for messages from her. But when they came they were only about the Venice speech.
On Friday morning he gave up and went in to the office. He told himself it was to pick up the material he would need for the seminar. But he knew perfectly well that Poppy could have had the stuff biked round to his Hampstead house if he’d wanted. He didn’t. He wanted the chance—just the chance—of seeing Zoe.
And his gamble paid off. Almost as soon as he was in the building, he saw her coming down the silver staircase with Abby and Molly di Paretti. The other two smiled broadly but Zoe would not meet his eyes. In fact she dodged round Molly and disappeared, while the Fab Ab buttonholed him.
‘You’ve got a new wall ornament,’ she said.
Jay was looking after Zoe’s retreating figure. ‘What?’
‘The London Youth Clubs have sent you a presentation baseball bat,’ said Abby. ‘Along with an invitation to run in their All-Time Greats event in September.’
Jay wanted to follow Zoe so badly that it hurt. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘You know I don’t compete any more,’ he snarled. He took a step towards the door, in the direction that the girls had taken.
Abby took hold of his arm and made him face her. ‘And I need to talk to you about the PR for Lemon Sherbet Three. The film company is having a row with the UK distributors.’
Jay gave up. ‘We’ll have a round up meeting at midday,’ he said, resigned. ‘Tell me then.’
She nodded. ‘Boardroom. Noon. Got it.’
She sped away. As she got to the door he called, ‘Ab—’
She turned warily. ‘Yes?’
‘Sorry I snapped.’
But when she got to Patisserie Patricia her smile had died.
‘If you ask me, the Volcano is going to blow,’ she said, sinking down behind a tall glass of iced coffee. ‘Is that why you didn’t want to talk to him, Zoe?’
Zoe seized the excuse thankfully. ‘He’s been getting mad at me. This Venice talk.’
‘But you’ve done such a good job on getting all the material together,’ said Abby, indignant. ‘You really saved his bacon. It’s not like Jay to ignore that. Is it, Molly? He’s always really nice if you do a good piece of work.’
Molly said slowly, ‘I’ve never seen him like this.’
‘Too right,’ said Abby with feeling. ‘I thought I wasn’t going to hold him off for you, Zoe. There was one point he looked like he was going to pick me up and put me out of the way.’