The Complete #LoveLondon Collection

She bit her lip in annoyance but another minute of suspense wouldn’t kill her. ‘So,’ she leaned forward once they’d ordered their cocktails, a Red Fruits Manhattan for her and a New York Sour for him, ‘why am I here?’

‘You look stunning,’ he grabbed her hand, stroking her wrist, and she quivered. ‘Absolutely gorgeous.’

‘Thank you, the dress is beautiful, the shoes too.’ She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. She extracted her hand subtly.

‘But you’re not wearing the earrings.’ He frowned.

‘I didn’t know what all this was, who they were from. They’re too expensive, I felt uncomfortable. Now stop avoiding the question Christian, why am I here? And why aren’t you in Bali?’

‘I’ve missed you. I didn’t want to go without you.’

‘And you’ve waited an entire year to tell me that? Even though you wouldn’t talk to me when I came to get my stuff? You couldn’t have got in touch before? You had to wait and do all this?’

‘I was hurt and shocked when you ended it. Flabbergasted, actually. But I’m telling you the truth, I have missed you.’ His clear blue eyes shone with sincerity.

‘That would probably be romantic,’ Frankie said drily. ‘If I didn’t think, sorry, know, that you’ve probably had a series of women parade through the apartment since I left. Don’t forget I knew all about your playboy reputation when we got together the first time,’ she reminded him.

He looked at her, opened his mouth then closed it. She stared back steadily ‘Come on, don’t try and pretend you’ve been pining away without me, living a celibate lifestyle.’

He flushed, cheekbones going dark red, ‘So I’ve dated. There have been other women-’

‘A few I’m guessing.’

‘But none like you,’ he insisted.

‘Oh, really?’ She sat back in her chair as the waiter brought green olives, nuts and mini crackers to the table in a silver and white snack holder, swiftly followed by their cocktails. She took a sip of the tangy, crisp Manhattan and set it back down. ‘How’s that then?’ she prompted him.

He put his cocktail down with a slight clink against the table. ‘They were all kind of…plastic. Not real, like you. You’ve got opinions and values and a good sense of humour.’

‘You found my opinions and values annoying when we were together. Sometimes you said I had too many.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry. I was wrong,’ he reached for her hand, and she let him hold it while he apologised. ‘They agree with everything I say, everything I want. I thought it would be what I wanted, but it’s boring.’

‘You always picked women who were into vanity and society, until me,’ she pointed out, ‘if you’ve reverted to type, what else do you expect? To be honest I’m not sure I understand how we were together for three years. We’re so different.’ She lowered her voice, aware that a touristy-looking couple at the next table were trying to listen in. ‘It doesn’t make sense, and now that we’ve been apart-’

‘You’re wrong,’ he said anxiously, clasping her hand tighter, ‘And I’ve changed.’

‘Have you? Even so, you weren’t there for me when-’

‘We were good together.’ He whispered, ‘I treated you like a princess. I was there for three years. I messed up once-’

‘You bought me a lot.’ She conceded, seeing real pain reflected in his eyes. ‘You kept me safe and gave me a life of luxury. But I was a princess locked in a tower. I never saw my friends, barely went home to see my parents,’ she closed her eyes briefly, ‘something I’ve regretted ever since. It had all become about you, the dinners and parties. That was okay for a while. At the beginning it was fun, living that kind of life, but ultimately…even without what happened, I was starting to feel trapped. That’s why I went and got the job. You didn’t listen to me, barely engaged in conversation, talked about your day but never asked about mine.’

He lifted his hand from hers, ‘Most men are like that,’ he excused, ‘and maybe that was because all you really did was shop and lunch. How much was there to ask you about?’

‘You wanted it that way!’ she said furiously, forgetting where they were, throwing the rest of her cocktail back and then choking with the sting of alcohol. She cleared her throat. ‘You wanted me to be available and on call all the time, wanted me to look good and dress right. That’s why you didn’t like me getting a job.’ She took a calming breath, ‘Yes, you bought me things but you were never thoughtful,’ her mind settled on Zack driving her across town, and making her fresh coffee every day, and something in her stomach hitched, ‘you never made me a fresh coffee, or cooked for me.’

‘I didn’t need to. I have people to do that.’ He’d had specialist coffee delivered every morning by a high end catering company.

‘Yes, but you could have done it anyway, to show you cared.’

‘I do care,’ he insisted, ‘and I have changed. You can do whatever makes you happy.’

And perhaps he had changed. After all, the old Christian never would have organised a romantic scavenger hunt, never would have made the effort to put something so elaborate together, just for her.

‘Come back,’ he moved his chair closer, rested his arm against hers, stroking her cheekbone. Her pulse quickened. Oh, he was good. Sex had never been an issue, they’d always been compatible, she’d always found him attractive. He was a good looking guy.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, shifting away.

‘Come home, back to the flat. Quit that horrible retail job with the long hours and live with me. You can get another job that you like, or I can set you up in business. I can scale back my hours, we can do more together. Let me pay your debts off this time, so it’s not hanging over you, and we can make a fresh start.’

The thought was incredible appealing.

No more money worries, no more damp flat. Someone who would look after her, who would offer her security, someone she knew, who she could fall back into a routine with.

It sounded like bliss, and she knew it would be crazy to consider turning him down.

But… But still, for all of that, she couldn’t make her mouth form the words to accept it.

‘What do I have to do to convince you?’ he urged.

‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly, honestly. ’I just can’t see how I can move back in, how we can just pick it up as if nothing has happened. After a year, you just ride up on your white horse and solve everything?’

He let out a growl of frustration and signalled the tuxedoed barman for another cocktail.

She knew she complained about her job, but didn’t everyone? And she wasn’t that miserable. The thought of jacking it in was appealing though. She pressed her fingers down on the table, knowing Christian was waiting for an answer. If she quit her job, she would lose her independence again, and wouldn’t see Zack, wouldn’t get to have morning coffee or lunch with him or whinge when a nightmare customer made her want to bang her head against the wall and offer surrender.

She would miss that, she really would.

She would miss him.

Damn it.

‘I know I wasn’t that supportive when your mum died.’ Christian muttered. ‘And I am sorry about that.’

‘Not lost her? You can actually say died now?’ she demanded, alluding to their argument, the one right before the accident.

He at least had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I made some mistakes.’

‘You gave me three days and then bought me a four thousand pound handbag to ‘cheer me up’ before telling me to pull myself together.’

She could still hear the echo of their conversation now, over a year down the line.

***

‘You’ve lost your Mum,’ Christian said, slinging his briefcase on the white sofa, ‘I do understand that, and I know it’s hard. But I really think that putting on something nice and wearing some make-up,’ he gestured to her bare face and swollen red-rimmed eyes, ‘will make you feel better. Besides, I’ve got that dinner tonight and need you with me. It’ll be expected. In a few days’ time I’ll be losing you for a week to go and help your dad make the necessary arrangements. Come on,’ he said, ignoring her gobsmacked silence, ‘people lose other people all the time. It’s part of life. It happens.’

She gaped, mouth open, unable to articulate any words.