A Mistletoe Proposal (7 page)

‘Including you.' Despite his pathos, Franton couldn't resist a spiteful sneer.

‘Yes, including me, but it's not the money that counts. It's my reputation that you've damaged and I don't want to see you on these premises ever again. You're out, and that's final.'

‘But I need a job,' Franton screamed, collapsing again. ‘I've got a family to support, debts—
look
!'

He ran to the window, pointing out to where the snow could now clearly been seen cascading down.

‘Snow,' he cried. ‘Christmas is coming. What do I tell my children when they don't get any presents?'

‘Don't try playing the pathetic card with me,' Roscoe said coldly. ‘You nearly caused a disaster throughout the financial world, and you did it by dishonesty. If you've brought a tragedy on yourself the responsibility is yours.'

‘You heartless swine!'

Roscoe's face was as stony as his voice. ‘Get out,' he said, softly threatening. ‘Get out and stay out. You're finished.'

His last card played, Franton seemed to collapse. Slowly, he backed out, casting one last beseeching look. Roscoe didn't even see it.

‘Now, perhaps we can finally get on,' he said, seating himself. ‘Miss Jenson, I have some papers here—'

‘Wait a minute,' Charlie said. ‘You're not just going to let him go like that?'

‘He can think himself lucky I'm not doing worse.'

‘But this is Bill Franton—he's been here for years and he's a family friend—'

‘Not any more.'

‘Wait,' Charlie said, dashing out in pursuit.

‘I'm afraid Charlie is too soft for his own good,' Roscoe said. ‘One day I hope he'll learn a sense of reality.'

‘Of course insider trading is dishonest and can't be defended,' Pippa agreed, ‘but that poor man—'

‘Why do you call him a “poor man”—because you saw his distress? You didn't see the distress he caused other people, and the much worse distress that was narrowly averted.'

‘I suppose you're right,' she sighed.

‘But you don't really think so, do you? I guess I'll just have to endure the burden of your disapproval.'

‘It certainly doesn't bother you.'

‘I've met it before and it's based on sentimentality.'

‘Is it sentimental to say you can attach too much importance to money?' she demanded indignantly.

There was an ironic humour in his eyes, as though he was enjoying a grim joke at her expense.

‘Not money, Miss Jenson,' he said. ‘Honesty. That's where I attach importance. Nowhere else.'

And he was right, she thought furiously. He was beyond criticism, totally honest, upright, honourable, incorruptible. And merciless.

‘Ah, Charlie, there you are.' Roscoe sounded coolly collected at the sight of his brother. The last few minutes might never have been.

‘Roscoe—'

‘Come and sit down.'

‘But Franton—'

‘The subject is closed.' Roscoe's voice was final and Pippa shivered.

She made a mental note not to get on his wrong side, but reckoned that was probably easier said than done.

Then she pushed all other thoughts aside to concentrate on the case, but now that was hard because something was causing Charlie to become uncommunicative, as though protecting a secret. When his secretary looked in, saying, ‘That call has come,' he vanished at once.

‘How do you think it's going?' Roscoe asked her.

‘I think there are problems. He's holding something back.'

‘You amaze me. Last night he didn't seem to be holding anything back. You're doing brilliantly, as I expected.'

‘That's why you came along, to keep watch, is it? To make sure I didn't lead Charlie along the wrong path?'

‘Are you angry with me?'

‘I suppose I might be. I can't think why.'

She spoke ironically, but there was truth as well. Beneath the polite surface, this meeting seethed with undercurrents of mistrust. The visit to Roscoe's home had left her feeling more kindly to him, but last night had reversed that. Now she remembered the awkwardness on which their relationship was based and she couldn't wait to get away from him.

‘Maybe I'm not managing this very successfully,' he said, ‘but it's a new situation for me too.'

‘You mean you don't hire women for romantic relationships every day? You amaze me. I thought you were an old hand.'

‘All right, attack me if you wish. You're angry about last night, and perhaps you have reason, but I only wanted to…to study the situation.'

‘You wanted to find out if you were getting what you paid for. Or if Charlie was getting what you paid for.'

‘Stop it!' Roscoe snapped, suddenly finding his nerves fraying. ‘Don't talk like that.'

‘I'll talk as I like. It's been “like that” ever since you hired me. Well, I don't sleep with the men I date. None of them. Sorry to disappoint you.'

‘How dare you say that?' he raged.

Far from disappointing him, Pippa's words gave him a surge of joy so intense it was almost frightening. Until now, he hadn't known how much it mattered. But the discovery left him more confused, even more angry. He wanted to roar up to the heavens.

‘Don't ever say anything like that,' he commanded, breathing hard. ‘It wasn't our bargain, and you have no right to imply that it was.'

‘Maybe not in words, but it's what you were thinking.'

‘Don't
dare
tell me what I'm thinking. You know nothing.
Nothing!
'

‘Perhaps I know more than you realise.'

‘Pippa, I'm warning you—'

‘Then don't. What right do you have to warn me? You're so arrogant, you think you can give orders left, right and centre, but not to me.'

‘
I'm
arrogant?' Roscoe snapped. ‘What about you? You assume all men are slavering for you and you despise them accordingly. I only hope one day you'll meet a man who's totally indifferent to your charms. It would teach you a lesson.'

‘But surely,' she said with poisonous sweetness, ‘I've met him already—in you. Haven't I?'

If she'd been easily scared she might have quailed at the look he threw her.

‘You
are
indifferent to my charms, aren't you, Roscoe?'

‘Totally!' he said in a voice of ice.

‘And, since I'm equally indifferent to yours, neither of us has a problem. Just the same, I think it's time this arrangement came to an end. Another lawyer will suit you better.'

She rose and made for the door, but he was there before her.

‘Don't be absurd. You can't just go like this.'

‘So anyone who disagrees with you is absurd? No, I was absurd the day I let myself get embroiled in this. I should have had more sense of self-preservation. Now, please stand aside.'

‘No,' he said stubbornly. ‘I'm not letting you leave here.'

‘Roscoe, stand aside. I won't be treated like this.'

Pippa thought he would defy her again, but then his shoulders sagged.

‘All right, I'll stand aside,' he said. ‘But I'm going to say something first.'

‘Then get on with it.'

‘Don't go. Hate me as much as you like, but don't abandon Charlie,
please
.'

‘Roscoe—'

‘I'm begging you, do you understand that? Begging.'

His eyes left no doubt that he meant it. They were brilliant, feverish, amazing her so that she couldn't speak.

‘Well?' he asked. ‘Do you want me to go down on one knee?'

‘Oh, don't be ridiculous,' she said, backing away. ‘Suppose someone came in.'

‘Then they'd see me as never before, and they'd think it was a good laugh. Is that your price? You want me to make a fool of myself, and then you'll do as I ask? Is that it?'

‘Suppose I said yes?' she asked. ‘Would you pay the price?'

‘Yes,' he said simply. ‘Shall I? Go on, you've been wanting to take me down a peg since we met. Now's your chance.'

‘No!' she exploded. ‘That's the last thing I'd want. I'm not that kind of harpy.'

‘Then what is your answer? Will you stay?'

‘
Yes!
Now get back behind your desk and stop talking nonsense.'

He gave her a wry look, but moved away behind the desk.

Suddenly the door came flying open and Charlie stood there. ‘I won!' he carolled.

‘You don't mean that three-legged hack came home?' Roscoe asked ironically, and only Pippa noticed the strain in his voice.

‘Ten to one!' Charlie yipped joyfully. ‘I made a packet. Hey, I'll be able to pay you back the money I owe you—well, some of it, anyway.' He gave Pippa a bear hug. ‘And it's all due to you. Since you came into my life, everything has gone well. The sun shines, the world is beautiful. Isn't that so, Roscoe?'

‘Miss Jenson is certainly having a beneficial effect,' he replied loftily. ‘In fact I was explaining how pleased we are with her efforts when you came in. Now, if you'll kindly sit down, Charlie, we can return to work.'

Pippa had to give him ten out of ten for a sense of wicked irony. She tried to meet his eyes, perhaps even encourage him to share the joke. But he wasn't looking at her. The paperwork seemed to absorb him.

The rest of the meeting was conducted with strict propriety, with as few words as possible. Pippa asked questions, made notes and finally rose briskly, declaring, ‘I'll be in touch when I've investigated some more.'

‘Tonight,' Charlie said eagerly.

‘Tonight I've got some boring reception to go to. Don't be in a rush. I'll see myself out.'

She escaped.

P
IPPA
had spoken the truth about the coming evening. A client was giving a lavish reception to celebrate acquiring sole rights to a piece of valuable computer software and had offered several invitations to Farley & Son, whose work had been crucial in securing the contract in a bidding war. A little group of them were going, including David and herself.

‘Dress up to the nines,' he told her. ‘Knock their eyes out. It's good for business.'

She laughed but did as he wished, donning a shimmering white dress that combined beauty with elegance. The reception was held at London's most costly hotel. They arrived in a fleet of expensive cars and were shown upstairs to the Grand Salon where their hosts were waiting to greet them effusively.

One of the younger wives, friendly with Pippa and new to this kind of function, was in transports. ‘Everybody who's anybody in finance is here tonight,' she said. ‘You probably know most of them.'

Pippa did indeed recognise many faces and began working the room, champagne in hand, charm on display, as was expected of her. As her friend had said, the cream of London's financial establishment was gathered there, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when her eyes fell on Roscoe Havering. Yet it was.

‘Good evening, Miss Jenson.'

‘Good evening, Mr Havering.'

‘I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here,' he said, unconsciously echoing her own thought. ‘It's the sort of gathering in which you shine.'

‘Strictly business,' she said. ‘I can help to attract new clients here, and that's what David expects me to do, so, if you'll excuse me, I must get to work.'

‘Wait.' His hand on her arm detained her. ‘Are you angry with me?'

‘Certainly not.'

‘Then why are you so determined to get away from me?'

‘Because, as I've tried to explain, for me this is a business meeting.'

‘Tell me the real reason. That's not just efficiency I see in your eyes. It's coldness and hostility. How have I offended you now?'

‘You haven't.'

‘Little liar. Tell me the truth.'

‘You haven't offended me, but I can't pretend that you're my favourite person.'

‘Because of Charlie?'

‘No, because of…lots of things.'

‘Name one.'

‘Stop interrogating me. I'm not in the dock.'

‘No, your victim is usually in the dock with you pressing home the questions. So, you can dish it out but you can't take it?'

‘How dare you!'

‘Name something I've done to offend you—a new offence, not one you've told me about before.'

She ground her teeth, wondering how she could ever have sympathised with him.

‘All right,' she said at last. ‘Franton.'

‘Who?'

‘You've forgotten him already, haven't you? That poor man who burst into your office this morning.'

‘That “poor man”—'

‘Yes, yes, I know. Insider trading is wrong, but he's not the only one who's sailed a bit close to the wind, is he? I know someone else whose activities threaten your firm's good name, but he doesn't get chucked out. He gets protected. You hire a lawyer to keep him on the straight and narrow.'

‘He's my brother—'

‘And Franton is a man with a wife and children. Maybe he doesn't deserve a position of trust any more, but you threw him onto the scrap heap without a second thought.'

Pippa waited for Roscoe to speak but he was staring as though he'd just seen her for the first time.

‘All right,' she said. ‘I'm a soppy, sentimental woman who doesn't understand harsh reality and sticks her nose into what doesn't concern her. There, now, I've saved you the trouble of saying it.'

‘Soppy and sentimental is the last thing I'd ever call you,' Roscoe said. He seemed to be talking in a daze.

‘Well, anyway…since you're employing me I suppose I had no right to fly at you like that.'

His voice was unexpectedly gentle. ‘You can say anything you like to me.'

‘No, really—it's none of my business.' Suddenly she was desperate to get away from him.

‘I wish I could explain to you what the pressures are—I think I could make you understand, and I'd like to feel that you did.'

‘As you say, I don't know what it's like for you.' She gave a brittle laugh. ‘I don't suppose I could imagine it.'

‘Pippa—'

‘Don't let me keep you. We both need to drum up new business.'

She gave him a brilliant smile and moved firmly away. She didn't even look back, but plunged into networking—smiling, laughing, making appointments, promising phone calls. It was an efficient evening and by the end of it she'd made a number of good contacts.

At last she found herself on the edge of a little group surrounding the managing director of the firm celebrating its triumph. He was growing expansive, making jokes.

Roscoe, standing nearby, joined in the polite laughter, while his eyes drifted over the crowd until he saw the person he wanted and watched her unobtrusively.

‘It's been a good celebration,' the managing director said. ‘Of course, I really wanted to arrange this evening a couple of weeks later, so that we could make it a Christmas party as well, but everyone's calendar was crowded already.'

‘Such a shame,' said a woman close by. ‘I simply adore Christmas.'

There were polite murmurs of agreement from almost everyone.

But not from Pippa, Roscoe realised. Beneath the perfectly applied make-up, her face had grown suddenly pale, almost drawn. She closed her eyes, keeping them shut just a moment too long, as though retreating into herself.

David spoke in Roscoe's memory.
‘The nearer to Christmas it gets, the more of a workaholic she becomes… It's as if she's trying to avoid Christmas altogether.'

He studied Pippa, willing her to open her eyes so that he might read something in them. At last she did so, but when she saw him she turned quickly, as though she resented his gaze.

As she moved away a strange feeling assailed him. She was young, beautiful, the most alluring, magnetic woman in
the room. And she was mysteriously alone. No man claimed her, and she claimed none either. For a blinding moment the sense of her isolation was so strong that it was as though everyone else had vanished, leaving her the sole occupant of the vast, echoing room.

Or a vast, echoing world.

He told himself not to indulge fanciful thoughts. But they wouldn't be banished. He started to go after her but somebody called him, forcing him to smile and go on ‘business alert'. When he managed to escape, Pippa had vanished.

Along the front of the hotel were some elaborate balconies, decorative stonework wreathed in evergreen. Pippa wandered out, thankful to escape the air inside, heavily perfumed with money, seduction and intrigue. But it was too chilly to stay out long and after a few minutes she turned back. Then she stopped at the sight of the man standing there.

‘Good evening,' he said.

After a moment memory awoke. This was the ‘big noise' in the financial world, with whom Roscoe would soon merge his firm, becoming, if possible, more powerful and autocratic than he already was.

‘Mr Vanlen. I think we met briefly in Mr Havering's office.'

‘You could say we “met”. It was more you putting yourself on display. Mind you, there's plenty to display, I'll give you that. You knew you were driving me crazy, and you meant to do it. Fine, I fell for it. Let's talk.'

‘No, I—'

‘Oh, spare me the modest denials. You came out here knowing I'd follow you.'

‘No, I didn't know you were here.'

‘I've been watching you all evening. Don't pretend you didn't know. Here's the deal. You and I, together, for as long as it suits me. And you'll find me generous.'

‘You're mistaken,' she said coldly. ‘I am
not
interested in you in any way, shape or form. Is that clear?'

But, as his self-satisfied smirk revealed, he interpreted this in his own way.

‘Evidently I didn't make
myself
clear,' he said. ‘Does this say it plainly enough?'

Pulling out a flat black box, he opened it to reveal a diamond pendant of beauty and value.

‘And that's just the start,' he added.

She regarded him wearily. ‘I'm supposed to be impressed by this, aren't I?' she said. ‘But I'm not interested. Can't you understand that?'

‘Come, come. You're a woman of the world. You know the score. You're used to rich, powerful men and you like them that way, don't you?'

‘Only if they're interesting. Not all rich men
are
interesting. Some of them are plain bores.'

‘Money is never boring,' he riposted. ‘Nor is power. You see them?' He flung a hand in the direction of the room behind them. ‘The richest, most powerful men in London, and there isn't one of them I couldn't crush. Ask Havering. His investigations about me have shown him a few things that surprised him.'

‘He's had you investigated? You sound very cool about it.'

Vanlen shrugged. ‘It's no more that I expect, ahead of our tie-up. I've done the same to him, and I found things that surprised me too. It's par for the course.'

He was right, she realised. This level of sharp-eyed suspicion was normal in the world of high finance where Roscoe inhabited a peak. But it made her shiver.

‘I know a few things about you too,' Vanlen went on. ‘You like to play the field. No permanent lover to make things awkward. Fine, then we understand each other.'

His hand slid around her shoulder, making her move away quickly.

‘The one thing you don't seem to understand is the word no,' she snapped. ‘I'll say it as often as I have to.'

‘But you don't mean it,' he protested. ‘Come on, just one little kiss to seal our bargain.'

Before she could stop him, he'd pulled her close and brushed her lips with his own. Exerting all her strength, she wrenched free.

‘Try that again and I'll slap you so hard you'll bounce into next week,' she said breathlessly.

What he might have done then she never found out, for a cough from the shadows made them both turn. Roscoe was standing there.

‘I came to fetch you, Vanlen,' he said. ‘There's a big deal going on and they want you to be part of it.'

‘On my way,' the man replied and vanished without a backward glance at Pippa. The scene between them might never have happened.

‘Thank you,' she said coolly. ‘He was becoming a bore.'

He made a wryly humorous face. ‘Don't tell me I arrived in time to save a damsel in distress?'

‘Certainly not. Another moment and I'd have tossed him off the balcony, so you might say you spoilt my fun.'

‘My apologies.'

The feel of Vanlen's mouth was still on hers, filling her with disgust and making her rub her mouth hard with tissues.

‘Yuck!' she said.

‘It's a pity he affects you like that. You could have been queen of London.'

‘Don't you start. Did you hear what he said about you?'

‘Investigation? Sure. We each know enough to confront the other. Pippa, are you all right?'

She was still rubbing her mouth, and he caught himself up at once.

‘No, of course you're not all right. Stupid of me. Don't go at it so hard, you'll hurt yourself.'

‘I can't help it. He's disgusting.'

‘Here, let me.' Taking a clean handkerchief from his pocket, he began to rub gently.

‘It's no use,' she sighed. ‘I can still feel him. Perhaps another glass of champagne would wipe him away.'

‘I know something better,' he said softly and laid his mouth against hers.

It was over in a second. His lips touched hers for a brief moment, just long enough to obliterate Vanlen, then they were gone.

Through the dim light, he saw the wild astonishment in her eyes and could just make out her lips shaping his name.

‘I'm sorry,' he said stiffly. ‘I thought it might help.'

‘I—'

‘Come on.' Taking her hand firmly, he led her back to where the crowd was beginning to disperse.

David was there, looking around, brightening when he saw her. ‘Ready to go?' he asked cheerfully. ‘Yes…yes…'

‘I think she's tired,' Roscoe said. ‘The sooner she goes home, the better. Excuse me.'

He was gone.

In the car home Pippa pretended to be asleep so that she could avoid talking. But later, when she got into bed, she lay awake all night, staring into the darkness, trying to see what could not be seen and understand what could not be understood.

 

The following evening she went to have a family dinner at her beloved grandparents' house on Crimea Street, and where she
herself had lived for the last two years of their lives. These days Frank, his wife and children, lived there, with her other brother, Brian, just down the street. Now they returned her car with an air of triumph at having made it usable again.

Pippa hadn't been back to the old home much recently, and for a while she could enjoy the company of her parents, nephews and nieces, most of whom lived no more than two streets away.

With so many children, it was inevitable that the Christmas decorations should go up early.

‘I keep telling them that it's still too soon,' Brian's wife, Ruth, said in laughing despair. ‘But you might as well talk to the moon. As far as they're concerned, it's Christmas already. Hold that paper chain, would you?'

Pippa smiled mechanically. It was true, as David had suggested, that she had her own reasons for shying away from Christmas—for her, it had been a time of heartbreak. But this was no time to inflict her feelings on her family, so she spent a conventional evening climbing a stepladder and hanging up tinsel.