Unbound (18 page)

“No,” he growls. “I never make exceptions.”

“And you want me to believe you?”

“Believe whatever you like.”

Now I can’t blink back the tears, which rush into my eyes again at his hurtful words. That doesn’t seem to escape Jonathan’s notice.

“You wanted this, Grace,” he reminds me, and it sounds like a warning.

“But I didn’t force you. You wanted it too.” I stare at him, trying to focus my anger.

“Tell me, how many exceptions have there been? How many women have you made love to here in your kitchen?”

He pushes his chair back with a jerk
. “
None, for God’s sake,” he says, turning on me
. “
And we didn’t make love either, we had sex. There’s a difference.”

His eyes are now glowing with anger. Good. Anything but that cold indifference. “We had sex then,” I say stubbornly. “There’s still no reason to treat me so badly.”

He stops abruptly, looking at me with complete incomprehension. Almost indignantly
.
“In what way am I treating you badly?”

“You make me feel like a cheap slut. I mean …” I wave my arms around helplessly, “what happened just now was—a really life—changing
experience. And you just sit there telling me that I need to go because you’ve got work to do. As if nothing had happened.”

“I knew it,” he says, walking up and down, running his fingers through his hair nervously. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t do what?” I ask.

He breathes heavily and sounds annoyed. “I told you we’d be playing by my rules. And my rules are: sex and nothing else. No relationship of any kind. That’s exactly why with an employee; I’ve never … “ He doesn’t finish his sentence. We look at each other in silence for a moment.

“So why did you do it then, if it was so terrible?” I want to know.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t say it was terrible,” he says and smiles again very slightly for the first time, which immediately makes my heart beat faster. “Just that it was an exception. And that we aren’t going to repeat it.”

The doorbell rings and we both jump.

“That’ll be Steven,” Jonathan says and goes back to the staircase and disappears below. I follow him hesitantly and find myself in the large hallway again.

My heels are next to the coatrack, and I slip into them.

Then I grab my purse, which is lying on a small table by the wall, and go up to Jonathan, who’s standing at the open front door.

I’m suddenly afraid that that was it. He’s the boss. If he finds me too much, he can put an end to my internship at any time. Then I’ll never see him again. The thought squeezes my throat shut and I can’t hold onto the anger I felt just a moment ago.

I have to say something, anything, to make him realize what this meant to me. Because no matter how he sees things, I will never forget this morning.

“I found it beautiful,” I say quietly, looking up at him. “Even if it was an exception.”

He smiles again, at least a little, then shakes his head, as if to remind himself of something. Something serious. “You’re one big exception, Grace,” he murmurs, so quietly that I’m not sure I heard him right, and gently pushes me outside. “Steven’s waiting.”

“See you on Monday, then?” I ask over my shoulder and see him nod. The door closes behind him with a gentle click and I walk toward the long black car, alone and confused.

On the way back, I sit on the soft leather seat in the back of the limousine, staring at the city rushing past, without really seeing it
.

The tinted glass partition that divides the driver’s cab from the interior of the car is raised, separating me from Steven, who is steering the big car through the London traffic as safely as ever. He hasn’t let a single word or gesture reveal what he thinks of the fact that I was drunk last night and spent the night at my boss’s house. Has he guessed that I slept with him? Does it show?

I hope not, because I don’t know what Annie will say when she finds out. She’s warned about it me so many times. But perhaps it was inevitable right from the start.

It’s still all so new and difficult to understand, that I just can’t get my head around it. When I think about it, I realize that Annie should have directed the warning at me, not at Jonathan. He didn’t actually do anything to me. OK, yes, he did—a pleasant shiver runs down my spine when I remember exactly what he did—but only because I practically forced him to.

I remember what he said. You wanted it, Grace. Oh yes, I wanted it. And, in spite of everything, I don’t regret it. I’ve always been kind of afraid of my first time—perhaps that was one of the reasons that I’ve always been so reluctant to do it. Maybe it’s a good thing that it happened with a man who is obviously experienced in such things.

I sigh deeply. Who are you trying to kid, Grace? You didn’t sleep with Jonathan because he’s experienced. You could have done that a long time ago, you’ve had plenty of suitable offers. You slept with him because he’s the most exciting man you’ve ever met. Because he fascinates you, and you can hardly think of anything except him. Especially not now.

And that’s exactly the problem. If it were up to me, it wouldn’t have been an exception. I want to repeat the experience; I want to be close to Jonathan in that way again. Which is obviously exactly what Jonathan is not going to allow. No relationship of any kind.

But how does it all fit together? Why does he claim that he has never been with any other woman from the company—because he doesn’t want a relationship? Why is he making an exception for me—and, more importantly, what happens now?

I get a queasy feeling in my stomach at the thought of meeting him again on Monday after what happened. I feel a mixture of anticipation and dread. We reach Islington faster than I thought we would. When the big car stops in front of our house, I wait for Steven to get out, walk around the back, and open the door for me. At first, I used to just get straight out when I was alone in the car, but I could tell from his face how much that horrified Steven. Helping me out of the car is obviously one of his duties when Jonathan isn’t there to take care of it, and I don’t want to embarrass him. Besides, there’s something charming about the old-fashioned gesture. I’ve actually come to like it quite a lot.

“Should I wait, Miss Lawson?” Steven asks, once I’ve successfully got out of the car with his help and am standing on the sidewalk. I look at him, confused. “Why?”

“Just a thought. Because you don’t have a key.”

I suddenly realize why we’re here and look down at the ground, embarrassed.

“No, you don’t need to. One of my roommates is sure to be there to let me in.”

And I’m right. At that very moment, the front door opens and Annie pops her head out.

“Grace, thank God it’s you! We were worried about you!”

I say goodbye to Steven, smiling at him again—he’s really nice, even if he hardly ever says anything—and hurry over to Annie, who pulls me into the house right away.

“Where were you?” she asks reproachfully, pointing to the black car, which is just driving off again. “Did you spend the night at Jonathan Huntington’s?”

When I nod, I can see how horrified she is.

“Grace!”

“It was an accident—well, something like that,” I hastily defend myself. “I had a bit too much to drink at dinner last night.” I make a face. “OK, more than a bit too much. Much too much. Very much too much.”

“You were drunk?”

I nod unhappily.

“What happened?”

I sigh. “And then I’d forgotten my key and you were all out, so Jonathan took me home to his place.” I raise my hands apologetically. “I didn’t even know what was happening, to be honest. I was totally out of it.”

Annie makes a face. I can’t tell whether she’s having trouble imagining the effects my loss of control might have had on my behavior—she’s British, after all—or whether she just doesn’t like the fact that I was unprotected in the lion’s den. Probably both.

“Nothing else happened though?”

I don’t want to lie to her but I can’t tell her the truth. After all, I just did exactly what she explicitly warned me not to. So I decide on a compromise. “I got drunk and made a complete fool of myself—and then I fell asleep in the car on the way back and they couldn’t wake me. Isn’t that enough?”

“And what happened this morning?” Annie won’t let up.

I sigh and suppress the part with the omelettes because it would be clear as day to Annie that I was keeping something back. “He made me breakfast and then he called Steven and asked him to take me home.”

“He wasn’t pissed off?”

I remember that he wasn’t as mad at me about my drunken antics as I thought he would be and I shake my head. “Only a little.”

“Hmm.” Annie frowns. “I wouldn’t have thought our boss could be so caring,” she says. “But he seems to be a developing protective instincts where you’re concerned.”

If only you knew, I think, dragging her up the stairs after me before she can ask any further questions.

“The first thing I need is a fortifying cup of tea, to help me get over the experience,” I tell her. And I’m not lying. When we get upstairs, Marcus is standing in the doorway. He looks paler than usual.

“Where on earth were you, Grace?” he asks, and I suddenly have a very guilty conscience. I could have sent him a text this morning, I think, and turn red when I remember why I didn’t have time for that.

I quickly give him the short version of my adventures, while I hang my coat and bag on the coatrack and then follow Annie into the kitchen. Marcus follows us, which makes me a bit uncomfortable. I’d rather be alone with Annie.

“And the guy just took you home with him?” he insists, as soon as we are sitting at the table with our steaming mugs of tea. He doesn’t seem to like it one bit and there’s an accusatory edge to his voice, which annoys me.

“He’s not some guy, he’s my boss …our boss,” I add, looking at Annie. “And it was pretty nice of him, actually. He could have just left me there, after the way I behaved.”

“Yes, he could have and it would have been fine,” Marcus says. “I got back at around eleven yesterday. You wouldn’t have had to wait long. And then I could have taken care of you.”

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The blatant jealousy in what he’s saying is so obvious that I feel really awkward.

“It’s not as if I had a choice in the matter,” I say. “As I told you, I was drunk and pretty out of it.”

Marcus stares into space, still thinking about Jonathan. “He could have let us know. Using your cell. Our numbers are stored on there.” He looks up. “Or you could have texted us. At least, this morning. Why didn’t you?” he asks in an accusatory tone and I can feel myself turning red.

“Marcus,” Annie warns him. “Grace isn’t a child, she doesn’t have to sign out.”

“You were worried,” he says to justify himself.

“I was,” she says. “But you heard what happened. So let her be.”

Marcus doesn’t say anything else, but his reaction is stressing me out. I’m already confused, and I don’t want to fight.

“He’s right, Annie,” I say unhappily. “I should have called. I was just so …such a mess.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she says, giving Marcus a dirty look. Then she looks at me, and smiles. “But in the future we should probably hang your key on a chain around your neck. Better safe than sorry.”

I make a rueful face and return her smile. She’s so nice, I think it’s a real shame I can’t confide in her. Perhaps later, when I’ve had a chance to process it all myself.

Marcus looks contrite now. He’s obviously uncomfortable with his own reaction.

“Would you like more tea, Grace?” he asks, much friendlier than before, holding up the pot. But I put my hand over my cup and get up.

“No, thanks. I think I’ll lie down for a bit,” I say, putting my mug into the sink. I really am very tired and my whole body aches, but in a pleasant way.

Annie nods. “How about a bit of shopping later?” she asks, and I nod enthusiastically. I’ve wanted to do that since I got here. And a bit of a distraction would do me good because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to think of anything but Jonathan until Monday morning.

But that’s exactly what I do anyway, not just during the two hours in which I try in vain to sleep, but in the afternoon, while Annie and I are rummaging around in all the charming little Islington boutiques where she finds the quirky clothes I think are so delightful on her. Because no matter what store we visit, no matter what things I look at, all I can think about is whether Jonathan would like them.

We’re in a charming second-hand store, appropriately called “Annie’s”—one more reason why it’s one of my roommate’s favorite stores—and I’m particularly taken with a black wrap dress with a low-cut neckline.

Annie looks over my shoulder, curious. “Isn’t that a bit too racy for the office?”

“Do you think so?” I have to exercise some self-control to keep my facial expression neutral because her remark has just put exactly what was going through my head into words. That’s exactly why I like the dress so much; it’s sexy and I can imagine Jonathan’s face when he sees me in it.

“What about this one?” Annie is holding a vintage dress and a pair of high-heeled boots in her hand; both in a brown color that goes perfectly with my hair’s red shade. “I think this would suit you.”

“I’ll try it on,” I tell her, but I take the black dress with me when I go to the small changing room. I can’t help it.

Both outfits—the brown things and the black dress—really suit me, as Annie enthusiastically confirms. They’re not cheap, but not prohibitively expensive either, and I treat myself to all three items. After all, today is a very special day. “Come on, let’s go in here, too,” Annie suggests, a little later, as we pass a small hairdresser’s. “You haven’t really been to London till you’ve had your hair cut here—and Andrew is a veritable god with scissors. I’m a regular here.”

I really like the idea of looking as stylish as Annie afterwards. Besides, I’m suddenly very interested in changing my look, so I follow her into the small salon with its funky décor—it looks almost scary with its bright neon walls. I put myself in the hands of Andrew who, with his dreadlocks, doesn’t exactly look like someone who much values stylish hair. But I’m pleasantly surprised when I look in the mirror an hour and a half later.