The Ex Who Hired Her

Shake her, he corrected himself. ‘Don’t take unnecessary risks again,’ he said when he got down from the ladder.

‘No, sir.’ She gave him a smart salute.

He resisted the provocation, just, and stomped back to his office.

Later, his email pinged. The message contained a picture of him up the ladder, and a note from her.

Using this one. If I don’t hear back within the hour, will assume OK.

He went straight to her office. ‘How exactly are you intending to use that photograph?’

‘Here.’ She flicked into a screen on her computer and indicated the monitor so he could see the web page.

‘What if I said no?’

‘Let me see. This shows you as hands-on. All the mums are going to go weak at the knees and want to be here in case you walk by. All the grandmothers are going to think of their own sons and warm to you. The grandfathers will do the same, and the dads will see themselves in your shoes. So you’re generating customer warmth. Plus you’re creating links with the local community, as a local school worked on the banner—using material that Field’s supplied. Now, why would you say no to that kind of PR?’

He didn’t have an answer to that, because he knew she was right. ‘Just stay inside health and safety guidelines in future,’ he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not planning to have an accident and sue Field’s or anything like that. I’m part of the team here. And I like being hands on.’

Hands on. He wished she hadn’t used that phrase. He could still remember the feel of her hands against his skin. ‘Whatever,’ he said, annoyed by the fact that she could still unsettle him like that. ‘If you’ll excuse me. I have things that need sorting.’ And he left her office before he did or said anything really rash.

On Monday morning, Jordan headed for the toy department. It was the first of their story-time sessions, and Alexandra had managed to get a minor children’s TV presenter in to do the first one.

Except it seemed that the presenter had gone down with tonsillitis and wasn’t able to appear. And Alexandra had stepped into the breach.

Jordan stood on the sidelines, watching her. She was sitting on a bean bag, with the children gathered round her and the mums sitting on chairs that looked as if they came from the staff canteen—no doubt she’d asked very nicely, with those huge eyes and the sweetest smile, and charmed the catering manager into helping. She was reading a rhyming story for the younger ones; some of them were clearly familiar with it, because she got them to join in on the chorus sections. She had a gorgeous voice, he thought, and he wasn’t surprised that all the children were hanging onto every single word.

And then he found himself imagining her with their child. If she hadn’t had the termination, would she have sat curled on the sofa with their toddler on her lap, pointing out the pictures and the words, gently teaching their little one to recognise letters?

Their child would’ve been ten, now. Nearly ready for high school. Would they have had a boy or a girl? And would they have had more children? A boy with his own dark hair and blue eyes, a girl with Alexandra’s huge brown eyes and sunny smile …

Jordan was cross with himself for even thinking about it. It was pointless dwelling on what might have been, because you couldn’t change the past. And right now children weren’t part of his future in any case.

Quietly, without catching her eye, Jordan moved away. Alexandra was doing just fine on her own; she didn’t need any support from him. And he wasn’t going to crowd her.

Though he did return right at the end, just as Alexandra was finishing the story, with a camera.

She glanced up at him and for a moment he could see laughter in her eyes; she clearly recognised this as a bit of tit-for-tat. And he took more photographs of the line of children thanking her for the story and the queue of mums at the tills with books under their arms, before sliding the camera back into his jacket pocket and starting to stack the chairs.

‘I saw that camera, you know,’ she said, joining him in the chair-stacking.

‘My marketing manager is very keen on social media and taking every photo opportunity we can,’ he said.

‘Good man. You’re learning.’ She patted his arm. ‘Though I’m afraid we’ll need to get all the mums to sign a release form before we can use those pics.’

Just as well there was a jacket sleeve and a shirt sleeve between his skin and hers. As it was, his skin was tingling where she’d touched him. How could she affect him like that, when he knew what he did about her?

He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think anyone missed the TV presenter. You did a good job.’

‘Thank you. I’m getting the staff to do a rota; they’re all going to read their favourite stories.’ She smiled. ‘It’s lovely that everyone in the store wants to get involved, whether they’re from the shop floor or behind the scenes. Maureen from the canteen’s even coming in on her day off to read her granddaughter’s favourite story.’

‘Was that a hint that you’re expecting me to read a story?’ he asked.

‘Could be.’

She smiled again, and he noticed the dimple in her cheek. Cute. How had he forgotten that? And it really made him want to touch it. Touch her. Dip his head and brush his mouth against hers. Kiss her until they were both dizzy.

‘Jordan?’

‘Uh—sorry.’ He felt the colour rise in his cheeks. She’d just caught him staring at her like a fool. ‘You know me. Mind always on the next project.’

‘I said, it might be a hint. If you want to read a story for the kids, that is. If you’re not too busy.’

‘I’ll think about it.’ Again, he found his thoughts coming back to the baby. Did she ever think about their baby? Did she ever regret what she’d done? Did she ever wonder what it might’ve been like, making a family with him?

And just what was wrong with him, suddenly thinking about having a family? Since the break-up of his marriage, he’d pushed all that sort of thing to the back of his mind and concentrated on making Field’s the best department store he could.

‘What made you think about having story time sessions?’ he asked. ‘Did your parents used to read to you a lot, or something?’

She shook her head. ‘It was Miss Shields, my primary school teacher. She used to read a few pages to us just before we went home. And she took me off the official school reading scheme and lent me books that I enjoyed a lot more.’

He should’ve guessed it hadn’t been her parents to encourage her love of reading. She’d told him once that she was the first person in her family to stay on for A-levels, let alone think about going to university.

‘How about you? Did your parents read to you?’ she asked.

‘I had a story every night.’ From his nanny. His parents had been busy at work; they hadn’t had the time to read to him.

‘And you read to your own children?’

‘I don’t have children.’ Except the one he hadn’t known about—the one who hadn’t even been born. He knew he shouldn’t ask, because he really didn’t want to hear the answer, but he couldn’t help the question. ‘You were pretty good at that. I assume you read to yours?’

For just a second, he could’ve sworn that she flinched. And she turned away as she said, ‘I read to my godchildren. Meggie’s two.’

So she still didn’t have children. Then again, pregnancy would make her face up to what she’d done when she was eighteen. And he was beginning to think that maybe Alexandra was a bit less hard-boiled than he’d believed her to be. How did she feel about the prospect of starting a new family, knowing that she’d deliberately chosen not to have a family before?

‘Excuse me. I’m sure you’re busy and I need to get some things sorted here. Thanks for your help in stacking the chairs.’ And then she fled.

CHAPTER THREE

BUT Jordan couldn’t stop thinking about it all evening. Thinking about her. Alexandra still didn’t have children. Why? Was it the guilt about what she’d done to his baby stopping her, or had her husband not wanted children anyway?

Her husband.

The words dropped into his thoughts like a clanging bell. Alexandra was married. Jordan didn’t believe in cheating. And, even if she hadn’t been married, she worked with him. How many times had he seen an office romance end in tears? And then there was the kicker: been there, done that and she’d destroyed his trust. Never again.

No, what he needed to do now was to establish a working relationship with her; maybe then he could move on and leave the demons of the past behind, locked away where they belonged.