Blackpeak Station (12 page)

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Authors: Holly Ford

BOOK: Blackpeak Station
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‘Look,’ sighed Jen. ‘I know it’s hard, and you’re hurting. But running away and throwing yourself into the arms of the first guy who comes along isn’t always the best way to cure a broken heart.’ She paused. ‘Well — not when they’re that guy’s arms, anyway.’

What? Charlotte raised her chin. That wasn’t it at all! She was just getting on with her life. She had to. And if a guy as hot as Luke wanted to kiss her, why the hell shouldn’t she enjoy it?

Four days later, an email from a woman Charlotte had never heard of arrived in her inbox.

Dear Ms Black,
Further to your discussions with Luke Halliday regarding financing of your proposed acquisition, we advise that our client, Mr Michael Crompton, wishes to meet with you at your earliest convenience. Please call me as soon as possible to arrange a time and a date. Further details of Mr Crompton’s interest will be given at such time.

A scanned signature followed, alongside the Cooper Liddell Sachs logo — Toni Masterson, PA to Luke Halliday, Senior Financial Adviser. Wow. Charlotte took a deep breath. Her ‘acquisition’. This was serious stuff. Might it really happen? Was this how it felt when dreams started to come true? And why was it so scary?

She read the email again, trying to work out just what she felt. Annoyingly, she found, mixed in with all her elation and fear, a little disappointment that the email wasn’t from Luke. Idiot, she told herself.

As she clicked back to her inbox, his name popped up on her screen.

Don’t think I’ve forgotten — you promised to have dinner with me. I intend to hold you to it. And other things. Soon.
L

With her pulse rate well above normal, Charlotte picked up the phone.

 

Negotiating her way through the Christchurch traffic a week later, she forgot about the meeting and Luke long enough to reflect — as she tried to catch a glimpse of the street map resting on the seat — how strange it was not to know the way to your own mother’s house. Almost a year had passed since Andrea bought the place and this was Charlotte’s first visit.

In the end, she spotted the right-of-way that led to the townhouse easily enough — Rex and Kath’s ute was already parked beside it. The townhouse was just as attractive as it had looked in the pictures, with the afternoon sun warming
its pale yellow plasterwork and a mass of honeysuckle tumbling over the courtyard walls.

Andrea had every right to look as proud as she did, opening the door. Behind her, Caddy gave a delighted bark and trotted out into the drive, rolling over at Charlotte’s feet.

‘Come in!’ Her mother gave her a hug. ‘Rex and Kath are in the lounge. Do you want to take your bag upstairs?’

After she’d been shown her room, Charlotte joined Rex and Kath and a rather intimidating platter of nibbles in the lounge. Rex was looking nervous. He was sitting with his hands on his knees and a newspaper he was clearly dying to read on the sofa beside him.

‘We were just talking about what we’re wearing for Cup Day,’ Andrea said.

‘Uhuh.’ Picking up a toothpick, Charlotte poked at the plate.

‘It’s an artichoke heart, dear,’ her mother added. ‘Try it.’

Charlotte cut herself a slice of brie.

‘So — what are you wearing?’ Andrea persisted.

‘My black dress, I suppose.’

‘What black dress? Oh no … not that old shift thing you wear with your jeans? Charlotte, really. You know we’ve got invitations to the VIP tent?’

‘No.’ God, it just kept getting worse. ‘How did we get those?’

‘Cooper Liddell Sachs sent them.’

Charlotte stopped foraging, her toothpick’s progress arrested in mid-air. She blinked.

‘Yes,’ said Andrea triumphantly. ‘So, what are you going to wear?’

It didn’t matter what she wore, Charlotte told herself, escaping her mother’s threat of an immediate trip to the
mall by picking Nick up from the airport. But she wasn’t entirely convinced. Visions of Luke surrounded by women straight out of fashion plates paraded through her head. Thank God Flavia was back in Milan.

She spotted Nick’s blond head above the crowd.

‘Charles!’ He hugged her tightly. ‘Oh God, you brought the Hilux. Of course you did.’ He dusted the seat and climbed in, careful to keep his expensive-looking suit-carrier on his knee.

‘Now,’ he said, when their mother had left them alone to unpack in the bedroom they were sharing. ‘I’ve got a present for you.’ He fiddled with a few clips and unzipped his bag. ‘There you are — this top one’s yours. I hope you like it.’

Charlotte took the hanger from him. Oh! It was a short black coat dress with a satin tuxedo collar. Turning to the mirror, she held it against herself — the wool was so fine it felt lighter than silk. ‘Where did you get this?’

Nick grinned. ‘Have a guess. Flavia says it’ll fit — go and try it on.’

It did fit — like a glove. In fact, she’d never seen anything fit anybody so well, unless it was Flavia’s clothes.

‘She was right.’ Nick whistled as she walked back in. ‘You’re a perfect size thirty-eight. Apparently.’

‘She could tell that just by looking at me?’ She gazed in fascination at her reflection in the mirror.

He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s in the blood. I think a Sammartino tailored Caesar’s toga.’

Charlotte finished admiring the back of the dress and turned to have another look at the front. There wasn’t a lot holding it together — a hidden tie and a single button to one side of her waist, just below the plunging neckline. She turned round again. ‘I don’t know what to say —
thank you — it’s amazing.’

‘Don’t thank me, thank Flavia. It’s from her. A “welcome aboard” present.’

She took a deep breath, smoothing the perfect drape of the dress. This was her chance — it was now or never. ‘About that,’ she began. ‘I need to talk to you — I didn’t want to do it by email …’

‘Oh God.’ Nick looked horrified. ‘You don’t want to change your mind? But you signed the contract — you know the Sammartinos can hold you to it.’

‘No, no, it’s not that … but …’ She hesitated.

‘For heaven’s sake, Charles, will you just spit it out?’

‘Okay. You know how you’re selling the Sammartinos a share …’

‘Dur, yeah.’

‘Well, I wondered if … maybe … you might sell me one, too.’

‘Wow.’ Nick sat down on the bed. She scanned his face anxiously. ‘I wasn’t expecting that … um, how much of a share do you think you might want?’

Charlotte lifted her chin. ‘I was thinking half — of what’s left, your share, I mean.’

‘Bloody hell.’ He rubbed his neck. ‘Look, Charles, it sucks that Dad didn’t give you a share, and if I could afford to give you half, I would …’

‘I don’t want you to give it to me — I want to buy it.’

‘Yeah, but the thing is … what with? You know what it’s worth, we just had it valued.’

‘I might have a backer who’ll lend me the cash.’

‘Who? And since when?’

She smiled. ‘Since I found that finance guy of Dad’s stuck in the river.’

‘So Armani-guy is setting you up with a venture capitalist
on the back of the Sammartino deal?’ he said, dubiously, when Charlotte had explained. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

‘Why not?’

‘The Armani-guys of this world don’t do stuff for nothing.’

She shrugged. ‘He’s not charging me.’

‘That’s one of the things I’m worried about.’

‘Hey,’ she reminded him, ‘it’s really up to me how I get the money, isn’t it? The question for you is, will you sell?’

‘I don’t know.’ Nick shook his head. ‘I don’t want you to get yourself in a mess over this. Have you talked to Rob about it?’

Ah — but that was another conversation. ‘It’s just a preliminary meeting,’ she hedged. ‘If it goes any further, of course I’ll get some advice. But there’s no point going at all if you’re not going to let me buy in.’ Well, not quite
no
point, she reminded herself — but she didn’t have time to think about Luke now. ‘Come on, Nick — you know how much I want this.’

‘God.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Okay … yes, of course I’ll let you buy in. You should have a share.’

‘Thank you!’ Charlotte leapt across the room to hug him.

‘Whoa!’ Nick covered his eyes. ‘You can’t do that in that dress. We’d better get you some double-sided tape in the morning. And’ — still looking away, he pointed a finger at her — ‘I’m coming with you to Cooper Liddell Sachs. I want to be in that meeting.’

 

Charlotte woke up the next morning a mass of nerves. Behind Andrea’s chintz curtains, it was just getting light, and across the room she could hear Nick’s sleepy breathing. She reached for her watch. Five-thirty. Her body was set to Blackpeak time — Jen would be heading out about now to
get started on the day’s work. Here, she had five hours to get through before she could leave for the meeting. She ached suddenly for Rob’s solid arms and steady presence.

‘Nick?’

The duvet didn’t move. Charlotte got up quietly, padded downstairs to the kitchen and put the jug on. The house was silent. She watched the first joggers go past at six, then picked up the newspaper from the drive. She flicked through to the A&P Show results. Oh, Carr had got a third place for his wether fleece, he’d be chuffed … At last, there were footsteps behind her.

‘These townies sleep away the best part of the day,’ said Rex, already showered and shaved and dressed in his best checked shirt for his big day out at the Show.

It was eight o’clock before the rest of the house began to surface. First Kath arrived, still in her dressing gown and looking rested — Charlotte wondered guiltily how long it had been since she’d last slept in. Andrea followed, made-up and immaculate, and got out bread and cereal with a look that dared anyone to complain about the lack of a cooked breakfast. Nick was last out of bed, and far too slow in taking his shower for Charlotte’s liking, but in spite of her doubts, they were able to leave for the meeting in good time.

‘I’d feel better about this if Rob was here,’ Nick muttered, looking around the plush reception area of Cooper Liddell Sachs.

God, did he have to keep saying things like that?

‘Miss Black?’ To Charlotte’s relief, an elegant blonde put an end to that train of thought. ‘Toni Masterson — we spoke on the phone. If you’d like to follow me, Luke’s waiting for you in the meeting room.’

Seeing Nick get up too, she looked a little flustered.

‘This is my brother, Nick,’ Charlotte explained. ‘He’s
going to be joining us — I hope that’s okay?’

‘Of course.’ Her smile was brittle. ‘I’m terribly sorry — would you excuse me for one minute?’

Watching Toni scuttle back the way she had come, Charlotte’s nerves rose again. Had she done the wrong thing? Would Luke be cross? She should have called. But when, five minutes later, they did make it into the meeting room, he was all smiles.

‘Charlotte!’ He rose from behind an acre of table, a view of the river gleaming through the plate glass behind him. ‘Good to see you. And Nick?’

Shaking hands, the two of them eyed each other. It’s a suit-off, Charlotte thought, with a smile — and in his own welcome-aboard-from-the-Sammartinos gift, even she could see that Nick was winning.

Luke held out his hand to her. Their eyes met as she took it. But the smile he gave her was friendly and open, and Charlotte began to relax. He wasn’t as disconcerting as she remembered. Her imagination had virtually given him horns and a tail, but here he was — an attractive man in a beautiful suit, that was all. He didn’t even squeeze her hand.

‘I’d like you both to meet Michael Crompton.’

A short, plump, middle-aged man got up and shook her hand, enveloping her in expensive cologne. ‘Charlotte, Nick — pleasure to meet you both.’

‘Well,’ Luke spread his hands on the table, and leaned back in his chair. ‘Shall we get started?’

He’s in his element, she thought, as he began his flawless pitch. A born dealmaker. It was so fascinating to watch, she almost forgot to listen to what he was saying.

‘Charlotte, aren’t you a bit young to be running a
property
of this size?’

Her attention snapped back, and onto Michael
Crompton. ‘I don’t see that my age has anything to do with it — Michael.’ Their eyes locked.

‘I’ve seen Charlotte at work myself,’ said Luke smoothly. ‘Her skills are impressive.’

‘Charlotte has already managed Blackpeak for a year,’ Nick put in. ‘The Sammartino deal was predicated on her expertise — she has a five-year contract. Personally, there’s no one I’d rather have running the station.’

Crompton’s mouth twitched. ‘And how old are you, Nick?’

‘I’m good at what I do, Michael.’ Charlotte cut in,
speaking
slowly. ‘You won’t regret your investment.’

‘Good.’ Crompton grinned — it was like the sun coming out, Charlotte thought. ‘That’s what I needed to hear. I’ll get my guys to look into it, see what we can do. We should have an offer to you by the end of next week — you can see what you think, and we’ll go from there.’

‘Excellent.’ Luke beamed. ‘Why don’t we all have dinner tomorrow night, get to know each other better?’

Crompton checked his smartphone. ‘I’m free.’

‘Sure.’ Charlotte, fighting the urge to cheer, would have said yes to pretty much anything right then — though it wasn’t exactly the sort of dinner she’d had in mind.

‘Great. Wagyu Café? I’ll book.’

‘Text me the time.’ Already, Crompton was heading for the door. ‘Charlotte, Nick — it’s been a pleasure.’

As the door closed, Luke stretched his shoulders expansively. ‘Looks like you’ve got a partner.’

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