‘No problem at all,’ he said, pushing himself off the wall and making for the door, wiping Celia and the afternoon from his head with the kind of ruthless determination that had got him back on track and made him a millionaire at twenty-five. ‘Happy to have helped. Have a good journey home and I’ll see you around.’
SIX
Over the next month Celia was so flat out at work that Marcus barely crossed her mind. She had a deal to think about. Contracts. Documents. Emails and calls and meetings and an ever overflowing in tray. She didn’t have the mental space or the time to think about that afternoon. Except in the early hours of the morning when she did make it to bed and couldn’t sleep, of course. Then, dizzy with exhaustion, she let herself remember and indulge, knowing that come daybreak the memory would be buried beneath work, work and more work.
Despite his parting shot, she hadn’t seen him around. She hadn’t expected to. For one thing, Dan—their only real reason for coming across each other—was still on honeymoon, and for another, why on earth would Marcus choose to put himself in her path after she’d deliberately told him that she’d used him?
She pushed open the door of the bar and cringed as the memory of the scene that had taken place in Zoe’s parents’ spare room flashed into her head.
It hadn’t been her finest moment, she had to admit. In fact it had been one of her lowest, but she hadn’t known what else to do. She’d had to get him out of that room before she’d run out of clothes to fold and pack and no longer had anything to distract her from the knowledge that they were in far too close proximity to a bed and she wanted him badly, despite being well aware that he was the last person she should want.
What had happened in the kitchen garden was meant to have been a blip. The release of fifteen years’ worth of build-up, and closure. But as she’d stood in that driveway waving Dan and Zoe off, a sudden wave of longing for what they had had rushed over her and had thrown her even more off balance.
Totally bewildered by what was going on inside her head, she’d just wanted to escape. So she’d headed into the house, fleeing the romance and sentimentality of the afternoon, the happy, mildly boozed-up guests, the sinking sun, the sky streaked with red and the lengthening shadows, ready to pack up and leave and figure things out in the cool peace of her flat.
Marcus had followed her, of course he had. Naturally enough, given that she hadn’t given him cause to think otherwise, he’d assumed that she was intending to leave with him. And for a split second she’d been so very tempted to do just that. Logically she knew that he’d never be the man for her, but that hadn’t stopped her for one crazy moment desperately wanting him to be. And it had scared the living daylights out of her, which was why she’d pushed him away.
Not that she generally thought about it much. She’d analysed it to death on the train home, staring blankly out of the window as the countryside rushed by, her laptop remaining closed on the table in front of her. Once she’d got home, satisfied she’d done the right thing by putting a stop to anything more, she’d cast it from her mind.
But as she was about to have a quick drink with Lily—who hadn’t taken no for an answer—Marcus and what they’d got up to the afternoon of the wedding had snuck into her head quite a bit today. And every time she did find herself losing herself in the memory she went all soft and warm inside. It was infuriating, not least because she had plenty of other more important things to think about and really didn’t need the distraction.
Spying Lily sitting at a table in the corner of the busy City wine bar and fiddling with her phone, Celia weaved through the tightly packed clientele and wondered if it was overly hot in here or if it was just her.
‘Hi,’ she said, eventually making it over, then shrugging out of her jacket, draping it over the back of the chair and sitting down.
‘Hello,’ said Lily, putting her phone on the table and glancing up with a broad beam. That faded as swiftly as her eyes widened. ‘God, you look dreadful.’
Celia bristled even though Lily was right. She was looking awful at the moment, which was why she tried to avoid the mirror as much as she could because she knew her skin was pasty, her eyes were puffy and her body several pounds lighter than it should be, and who needed visual proof of that? ‘Thanks.’
‘Well, sorry, but you do.’ Lily filled a glass with wine and pushed it towards her. ‘Here. You look like you could do with this.’
‘Thanks,’ she said again.
‘So what is it?’
Celia shrugged and took a sip. ‘Just work,’ she said, her stomach shrivelling a little at the acidity. ‘Things are pretty hectic at the moment,’ she added, although in reality ‘pretty hectic’ didn’t come close to describing her workload at the moment.
Lily frowned. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she said, pasting a smile to her face and making an effort to relax. ‘It’s just a phase. This stage is always like this. And it’s not like I’m the only one putting in the hours. We all are.’
Lily sat back and twiddled the stem of her glass between her fingers as she looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you ever worry about burning out?’
‘All the time,’ she said with a smile that was wry because in reality there was no way in hell she was burning out. She couldn’t afford the time.
Still, she could definitely do with maybe a bit more sleep because she was exhausted, these headaches were a pain, and the heart palpitations that had started last week were beginning to get a bit more frequent and a bit longer in duration.
If she was being honest she hadn’t been feeling all that great for a while. Maybe she’d make an appointment with her GP, although she knew he’d simply tell her that it was stress and she should ease up on work. As if it were that simple.
Or maybe tonight she’d try and get home early, although given it was already nine and the bottle of wine on the table was full that seemed unlikely. In fact, seeing as she was going to be here for a while she might as well head back to the office once she was done here, do a bit more work and then spend the night there.
But it was fine. She’d survive. She always had in the past. Anyway, the deal was nearly done and then she’d catch up. On sleep. With friends. On everything else that had been put on hold.
‘So what’s news?’ she said, taking another sip of wine and assuring herself that she and her manic schedule could easily stick it out for another week or so.
‘Nothing in particular. Busy at work.’
‘Missing Zoe?’ she asked, thinking that as Zoe was responsible for half of the sisters’ business her absence must be making things tough.