Read A Slippery Slope Online

Authors: Emily Harvale

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romantic Comedy

A Slippery Slope (4 page)

BOOK: A Slippery Slope
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Verity
grinned at her daughter in spite of herself. ‘Thanks! Yep. Basically a lonely,
desperate old woman, gagging for it.’

Lucy
giggled. ‘I didn’t say you were old! I could have told him you hit the big
four-0 last Saturday ... but I didn’t. Besides, forty is
not
old!’

‘It
feels old, especially when it creeps up on you as it has me. And Etienne knows
you’re my daughter so he doesn’t have to be a genius to work out that I’m a few
years older than he is – unless he thinks I was a child bride.’

‘You
were. Eighteen is pretty young.’

‘I
was nineteen by the time I actually married your father. I was already pregnant
when he asked me, don’t forget.’ Verity sat bolt upright. ‘Anyway, I’d rather
not talk about your dad, and it doesn’t matter what Etienne or anyone else
thinks. I’m not planning on getting involved with anyone. I’m here to think
about my future, that much is true, and to work of course.’

Lucy
jumped to her feet and pulled Verity to hers.

‘But
there’s nothing to stop us from having a bit of fun too,’ she said. ‘It’s part
of the job description. Just because Dad has behaved like a total scumbag, it
doesn’t mean we have to shut ourselves away and sob our hearts out. We’ll show
him that our lives don’t revolve around him. Let’s go and find our nearest bar
and have ourselves a little welcome drink. Everything else can wait.’

CHAPTER
FIVE

 

 

Verity felt as
if the
Hounds of Hell
had taken up residence inside her. Her stomach
growled, her brain barked, her chest was on fire and her tongue definitely had
a fur coating. Her breath, she was sure, would smell of dog.

‘Good
morning!’ Lucy enthused from somewhere in the bedroom.

Verity
gingerly lifted a hand in response. She didn’t dare try to lift her head, or
open her mouth for fear of what might come out of it. As for opening her eyes –
forget it.

‘That
bad?’ Lucy asked. ‘Here. I’ve made you some coffee. It’s a beautiful day out
there.’

‘Please,’
Verity mumbled. ‘Stop!’

Lucy
dropped onto the edge of the bed and gently brushed several matted strands of
hair from her mother’s face. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘Leave,’
Verity said but she managed to squeeze Lucy’s fingers in a gesture of
affection.

‘Okay,
I’ll go for a walk. I’ve got a bit of a fuzzy head this morning too. Perhaps we
could nip to the ski shop later and sort out our ...’ she stopped mid sentence
and stood up. ‘Sorry, I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll be back in an hour or so.
Call me if you need me. Um ... Etienne said he’d pop by this morning, don’t
forget.’

‘Uh
huh.’

Verity
wasn’t concerned by that prospect. She thought she’d probably be dead by the
time he arrived.

***

‘I
see you’ve settled in comfortably. I do hope I’m not disturbing you.’

Verity
opened her eyes, wondering if she had indeed died and gone to heaven. The room
was flooded with a blinding light and she knew that Lucy was considerate enough
to leave the curtains closed when she left.

But
was that Etienne’s voice she could hear? She turned her head towards its
direction but before she could focus on anything, beams of sunlight hit her
eyes like white-hot lasers, and she had to close them. She lifted her head from
the pillow and raised a hand in front of her eyes but the sun shone directly on
her face; even though she shifted her position, she couldn’t move out of its
glare. She was wearing nothing but a skimpy T-shirt, which she must have thrown
on for some reason last night, so she didn’t want to get out of bed and expose
her body to anyone’s scrutiny.

‘No,’
she said, ‘you’re not disturbing me. ‘But if you’d turned up an hour or so
earlier it would have been a different story.’

‘Really?
You do look like death warmed over.’

‘Thanks!’
she said, thinking that Etienne’s voice sounded different today. It was still
deep and sexy but a little more gravelly than before and somehow, less
friendly. ‘Er ... could you do something about that sun, please? It’s shining
directly in my face.’

‘Certainly.
I’ll use my super powers and shift it to a different hemisphere.’

She
wondered why he was being so facetious. Perhaps he’d heard about last night.
She re-opened her eyes a fraction and squinted at him, tilting her head to one
side. All she could see was his frame, although even that didn’t seem quite as
muscular as it had the day before. He looked slightly taller and possibly more
agile this morning. She was clearly still hung-over.

‘I
meant, could you close the curtains or something? I’d do it myself but I’m
still feeling a bit the worse for wear and I’m not dressed yet.’

‘I
can see that,’ he said, making no attempt to move.

‘Er.
... Perhaps you would at least pass me my handbag. I’ve got some headache
tablets in there. It’s on the chest of drawers behind you ... I think. They
should have me up and about in no time. When I woke up this morning I thought
my head would explode.’

‘By
the look of this room, it did.’

‘Er.
You don’t sound very happy today.’

‘That’s
probably because I’m not.’

‘Is
something wrong?’

‘Yes,
and I’m surprised you need to ask.’

She
shifted position again but she still couldn’t see his face.

‘You’ve
heard about last night, is that it? Although why that should make you cross is beyond
me. I thought chalet girls were supposed to have fun. I’ll admit I’m a bit old
to be getting drunk and dancing on tables, but I’ve been going through a shitty
time lately and I really needed to let my hair down. And you were the one who
told me that the après-ski here was second to none. You were right on that
score. Although I wish you’d warned me about the toffee vodka. I was like a
woman possessed after a couple of those! Are you worried that Mr Calder might
find out? Are ... are you planning on telling him?’

‘I
think you have me confused with someone else. Last night’s ... antics are news
to me. I was just surprised to arrive and find you still in bed at eleven
o’clock in the morning, to be honest. Now that I know why, I think we can
safely say I’m a little annoyed.’

How
dare he speak to me like that, Verity thought. He’s not my keeper. She swung
her legs out of bed, completely forgetting that her white T-shirt was virtually
see-through and that it barely covered her bottom.

‘You’ve
changed your tune,’ she said, stumbling towards her handbag. ‘Yesterday, you
were the life and soul of the party. Today you sound like a Grinch. I assure
you it won’t happen again, but you can tell Mr Calder if you want. I really
couldn’t care less. I had a good time and I couldn’t give a damn what you, or
he, have to say about it. I know he’s a bit of a miserable git, but frankly I’m
surprised by your attitude and ... Oh! You’re ... you’re not Etienne!
Who
the hell are you?’

The
dark-haired man towering over her didn’t answer immediately. He was too busy
staring at her legs. His eyes travelled upwards as his bottom lip travelled
down. ‘I ... I ...’ he stammered.

‘You
have two seconds to get out of here before I deck you and call the police,’ she
said, although she had no idea how to do either. He looked as if he could pin
her down with one hand – unlike her ex-boss, Alfie. And she didn’t know the
number for the French emergency services, even if she could make it past him to
her handbag and her new mobile phone.

‘Verity?
Lucy? Are you here?’

That
definitely
was
Etienne and his voice was coming from the hall.

‘Etienne,
help me!’ she screamed at the top of her lungs. ‘There’s a strange man in my
room!’

The
stranger gave her a bewildered look. ‘I’m not a strange man!’ he insisted
before Etienne burst into the room, almost careering into him.

‘Josh!’
Etienne said, slapping the man on the back and grinning with relief. ‘What are
you doing here? I thought you were still in Boston.’

Now
it was Verity’s bottom lip that dropped. Josh. This man was Josh. Josh Calder
... her new boss! Dear God, it couldn’t be.

‘I
was. I mean ... I’ve just got back. This morning. I took the red-eye.’ He
turned back to Verity with an odd look on his face. ‘Do you think you could put
some clothes on? It’s pretty distracting having a semi-naked woman standing so
close to me.’

Verity
could feel her temper rising, partly because Josh’s eyes kept lingering on her
thighs and partly because she wanted to die of sheer embarrassment.

‘Well!
Excuse me!’ she snapped. ‘But this is
my
bedroom and I thought you were
Etienne.’ She saw the look of surprise on both men’s faces and realised how
that sentence may be misconstrued – possibly in different ways by each of them.
‘No. That wasn’t what I meant. I meant ... I thought you were someone I knew.
... As opposed to a total stranger, that is. No, that’s not exactly–’

‘Take
this,’ Josh interrupted, removing his all-weather jacket and holding it up in
front of her like a screen.

She
glanced at it as a hint of aftershave wafted towards her.

‘I
have a better idea,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you both get out of my room?’

Something
flashed in Josh’s eyes as they met hers and she looked at him properly for the
first time now that the sun wasn’t blinding her. He was rather good looking.
Extremely good looking in fact.

He
was taller and marginally leaner than Etienne but clearly a man who kept
himself in shape. His dark brown hair was just a fraction too long to be
considered ‘tidy’ and his face had the look of a man who loved the outdoors,
with a clean-shaven jaw and those slightly chiselled features that always made
Verity look twice. Dark brows sat perfectly above piercing, blue-grey eyes
framed by lashes she would die for and edged by the finest of laughter lines.
As she studied his face, she saw his generous mouth twitch at one corner and
she felt the colour rush to her cheeks. Was that a twinkle of devilment in
those blue-grey eyes? Or possibly a challenge?

‘Technically,
it’s
my
room,’ he said, ‘as I own the chalet ... and everything in it.’

She
tipped her chin up and held his gaze with some difficulty; her heart was
pounding. ‘But you don’t own me,’ she said, attempting a sultry edge to her
voice although she had no idea why. ‘And a gentleman would leave.’

Josh
hesitated for just one moment, as if he had something more to say but he bowed
his head in an old-fashioned gesture and left the room, pushing Etienne out in
front of him. When he’d gone, Verity collapsed on the bed.

‘Bloody
hell! It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man as gorgeous as
that
in
my bedroom,’ she said in a raised voice, suddenly gasping as she realised they
might have heard. Two gorgeous men, she thought, counting Etienne. But he
didn’t hold a candle to Josh in her opinion.

In
truth, she reminded herself, the only gorgeous man she’d ever had in her
bedroom – or anywhere else for that matter – had been Tony. She wondered, not
for the first time, whether she’d been missing out and then she wondered if
she’d ever have sex again now that Tony was gone. No! She must
not
think
about Tony. Or sex. But it’s funny how you miss things once they’re gone.
Although she wasn’t sure which she missed more right now: her husband or sex.

She
wondered how old Josh was. Etienne was thirty and they were friends but Josh
looked older than that. She would have said around the forty mark. Was he
single? Had his niece, Joanna mentioned that? She couldn’t remember. Hmm, she
thought, perhaps I’ll enjoy working here more than I expected.

Working
here! Josh had found her in bed at eleven o’clock in the morning – and he
clearly wasn’t happy about it. Was she about to lose another job? This time it
would be her fault she realised, suddenly remembering what she’d said to him.

She
wasn’t sure what to do. She needed a shower but should she just throw on some
clothes and face the music? She could have a shower later – if he didn’t send
her packing. Perhaps he’d just give her a warning.

She
dashed into the bathroom and almost died when she saw her reflection. Tufts of
hair were sticking out at odd angles and her mascara was smudged. She looked
like a cartoon burglar ... with jaundice ... and she’d have to pay excess
baggage on the bags under her eyes. What must he have thought?

Her
stomach made unpleasant gurgling sounds and she could feel the bile rising in
her throat. She stumbled back into the bedroom and searched through her
handbag. Where were those tablets? Why hadn’t she listened to her mother and
Lucy and bought herself a smaller bag? Taking several deep breaths, she waited
until the queasiness passed.

A
few minutes later, feeling slightly better, she returned to the bathroom and
washed her face, brushed her hair and tidied her make-up. She threw on a pair
of jeans and a sweater, slipped on a pair of shoes and mustered all her courage
to face Josh. She made her way into the sitting room via the kitchen and dining
room, just as Lucy entered from the hall.

‘Hi
Mum. You’re feeling better I see. Is that Etienne’s car outside? It’s–’

‘It’s
mine,’ Josh interrupted, getting to his feet. He and Etienne had been sitting
by the fire.

‘Oh!’
Lucy said, clearly surprised. ‘And you are ...?’

He
shot a look at Verity. ‘A bit of a miserable git, according to your mother.’

Verity
wanted the earth to open up and swallow her. Yep, she’d definitely lost her
job. She met Lucy’s bewildered look with a wry smile.

‘This
is Mr Calder, darling. We ... we had a bit of a misunderstanding.’

‘To
say the least,’ Josh said.

His
eyes raked over Verity’s body as if she were still wearing just her T-shirt –
or even less, and she could feel her temper rising again.

‘Well
perhaps if you’d introduced yourself instead of just barging into my bedroom,
sorry,
your
bedroom, things might have been different. I thought you
were abroad and I wasn’t expecting you for another few days. If I’d known you
were going to travel overnight so that you could check up on us today, I
wouldn’t have gone out last night, obviously.’

Josh
looked as if she’d just slapped his face. ‘Check up on you! I did no such
thing. Although clearly someone needs to. I just came to say hello and to
welcome you on board but I didn’t expect to find you in bed! Are you trying to
say that this was my fault in some way? I wasn’t the one pouring ... toffee
vodka down your throat last night.’

BOOK: A Slippery Slope
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