‘Well, you know, after what happened on Friday night.’
‘I don’t see why it should be,’ he said dryly. ‘It was just sex. Wasn’t it?’
Abby swallowed. ‘Right. Yes. Of course it was.’
‘We should be able to be move past it, don’t you think?’
Move past it. Yes. Definitely. Top idea, seeing as how he clearly hadn’t been as bothered by the memory of it as she had. ‘Oh, absolutely.’
‘Great. So you’ll do it?’
Of course she would. Apart from a Valentine’s Day cocktail party and a couple of corporate events her diary was pretty much free until June, when the wedding season kicked in, so she’d be mad not to.
And actually, maybe moving past it would be easy and liaising with Leo would be all right because there probably wouldn’t be much need to see him before the night of the party, whenever that was to be. Bar a couple of likely exceptions their contact could be kept entirely to email, text and occasionally the phone.
Relieved beyond belief that she’d found a way through the mess she was in, Abby beamed and said, ‘I’d be delighted.’
* * *
The minute he saw Abby emerge from the door to the building that housed his office, Leo retreated from the window, sank into his chair, fell forward and started banging his head on the desk.
He was an idiot—bang. A bloody—bang—bloody—bang—fool. Why, oh, why hadn’t he just cancelled the sodding meeting and to hell with cowardice, weakness and indecision? Quitting the banging, which had hurt more than he’d expected, Leo buried his head in his hands instead. Why hadn’t he agreed that Jake would deal with the details? Why had he told her he’d be the one to liaise with her? She’d handed him the perfect solution to his problem on a plate and he’d rejected it without even considering it. Was he completely and utterly insane?
He’d told her that he didn’t see why their recent history should be a problem but it was a problem. Of epic proportions. Because it was all he could think about and now, thanks to his spectacular brain fail, he was going to have to see her. Keep in touch with her. All the sodding time. To discuss ridiculous things like the colour of the napkins and whether to have fish or chicken when all he really wanted to discuss was where precisely she’d like him to ravish her.
And wasn’t that a pointless discussion to be hoping for? He’d taken one look at her, in her knee-high brown suede boots, short suede skirt and a jumper of the softest pale blue, so very strokable and touchable and, yes, kissable, and he’d been a goner. He’d had to grip the edge of the desk to stop himself from reaching out and pulling her into his arms, while she’d sat there all cool and composed, a repeat of Friday night very much not going through her mind the way it was his.
He was a fool, but what was done was done and there was little he could do about it now without looking even more of an idiot. So he’d just have to grit his teeth, make sure he had an unshakable grip on his self-control and get on with it.
Deciding to start with bringing Jake up to speed just in case Abby ignored him and got in touch with his brother anyway, and wondering how the hell his life could have become so complicated within such a short period of time, Leo reached for his phone. He scrolled through the numbers until he found his brother’s, hit the dial button and braced himself for a conversation he’d really rather not have.
‘Jake?’ he said when the call was answered.
‘Hi, what’s up?’
‘Two things. First, we’re throwing a surprise party for Mum and Dad’s fortieth wedding anniversary.’
‘Oka-a-ay,’ said Jake after a beat. ‘And second?’
‘Second, remember the Madrid development which is running behind schedule and which I said I’d oversee?’
‘Of course.’
‘It’s all yours.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
To: Leo Cartwright
From: Abby Summers
Subject: Cartwright ruby wedding anniversary party
Date: 16 December
Dear Leo
Following our meeting yesterday I’m writing to confirm that I’m thrilled to be entrusted with the organisation of your parents’ ruby wedding anniversary. Please be assured that no effort will be spared in making this an event to remember.