Breaking Joseph (34 page)

I wasn’t sure I
could tolerate the stares, especially after Poppy’s drunken
accusations.

In the end, I
dressed casually. I didn’t want people to think I cared too much.
My stomach churned as I made the familiar walk up to the office and
buzzed the front desk.

Sadie met me at
the door.

“Joseph’s stuck
in a conference call,” she told me. “If you take a seat in the
office, he’ll be out to fetch you when he can.” There was something
mellow about her tone, and it was comforting. She wasn’t glaring at
me like I had hooker written across my forehead in red
lipstick.

Four new
trainees already occupied the desks I had shared with Matt, Poppy
and Bhan. They looked tired already, and I was tossed back to
memories of my first seat at the company, under a partner called
Anderson Deity. He was known in the industry as the iron fist of
intellectual property and Joseph, in comparison, was a quibbling
choirboy.

That was one of
the reasons I had chosen Bach and Dagier, though–its lush history
in London, and its relative smallness that allowed the eccentrics
to rampage.

“Can I get you
a drink, Leila?”

I blinked up at
Sadie. “Oh. No thanks. I’m okay.”

Through the
glass doors, Joseph’s team of eight kept their desks fearfully tidy
and their nerves shredded and raw. Poppy sat in the left corner,
her chin pressed to her palm as she chatted on the phone. She made
rapid notes with a free hand and paused occasionally to push her
glasses back up her nose.

She caught
sight of me, froze, and then pretended she hadn’t. My cheeks roared
with scarlet, my pulse soared; I couldn’t let her off that easily.
No, this bitch would look Charlotte in the eye and choke on
adrenaline when she saw the beasts that lived there.

My phone
squealed in the depths of my handbag and I dragged it out,
expecting it to be Will.

I’ll cook
tonight if you make the flapjack? Clem x

Oh, thank fuck
for that. I could have kissed the phone.

Yes! TY
,
I typed, hammering at the keypad.
C u at 7 x

“Leila?”

I snapped up as
Joseph appeared in the doorway. Gosh. I’d forgotten how sharp he
looked in his shirt and tie.

“Hi,” I
squeaked.

He beckoned me
into the office with a tilt of the head.

It felt too
familiar, this creep into his space as he stalked behind me. He was
being perfectly cordial and yet I felt hunted, vulnerable. The same
surge of desire always built in anticipation of his fingers, his
mouth, and now it worked for his words, too.

God--look at
him. Once upon the edge of a tiny blade, I broke him--and yet the
bastard wasn't actually broken at all.

“What do you
need me to do, then?” I said.

He teased a
folder out from a pile. “Just a few forms to fill in, really.
Standard stuff. Then Sadie can sort out your P45.” He paused as I
went to take it from him. “Will you be needing a reference?”

“Um…I don’t
think so.”

Blond eyebrows
arched. “Is that so?”

“Charlie sorted
it all out for me,” I muttered.

“I see.” He
dropped the file on the edge of his desk for me. “He does you a lot
of favours.”

“Yeah. Um.”
God, I loved the way his forearms emerged from the rolled sleeves
of his shirt. Those tendons flexed and flickered just like that
when his hand moved between my thighs… “We used to be lovers.”

Joseph shook
his head at me. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you, isn’t
there?”

I took the file
and turned toward the sofa.

“Maybe.” I
forced a little smile. “It felt like you knew more than most.”

He didn’t
speak, but his features softened for a second. Then he nodded at me
and I sat down to fill in the forms.

It didn’t take
long to realize that I could have done all this at home; most of it
wasn’t even necessary. I found myself doodling as I brooded over
the fact, trying to ignore the tapping at his keyboard and the
breaths that punctuated the silence.

Eventually, he
buzzed for Sadie.

“Can you send
in St. Clare?” he said. “I’ve got some bits for her to look
over.”

I shot Joseph a
quizzical frown and he shrugged innocently, sitting back in his
leather chair.

Poppy slid
through the door a minute later. As she clapped eyes on me, her
polite smile plummeted somewhere beyond her bee-stung cleavage.

I curled into
myself, pretending to focus on the paperwork. If I had smoked, I
would have been climbing the walls for a cigarette, yellow fingers
staining the paint.

“What can I do
for you?” Poppy asked, hovering by Joseph’s desk.

“Take a seat.”
He handed her a fat brown envelope. “It’s the details of your
secondment. Sorry they’ve taken me so long.”

I saw her
exhale in relief; she thought he was rubbing my face in it. She
swept it from his hands and crossed her legs as she sat.

“Oh wow.
Exciting!” The envelope burst open in her palms and she tore out
the stack of watermarked paper. Her mouth drew into a wrinkled
line.

“Is everything
all right?” said Joseph. He had that predatory slink about his
shoulders, a pencil tapping against his glass paperweight–I knew
full well he was about to be a cunt.

“It’s just…I
thought I was going to New York,” she croaked.

“You did?”

“It says–” She
broke off, laughing incredulously. “It says I’m going to
Kazakhstan.”

I
loved
it when he was a cunt. I had to cover my mouth so that I didn’t
whoop and cheer.

“It’s a pretty
exclusive contract.” Joseph kept a straight face. “They have a very
progressive economy, you know. Yves only finalized the deal on
Friday–”

“I’m going with
Yves?” she spluttered.

“Of course. He
was really impressed with your performance in New York. Insisted on
having you.”

She took her
glasses off to rub an eye. “But…but who’s going to New York,
then?”

He knotted his
fingers. Half-smiled in feigned remorse. “Whoever takes over from
me, I imagine.”

“I’m not
following.”

“You’re the
first to know in my office, but…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I
handed in my notice this morning. I’ll be gone in three
months.”

We exchanged
brief glances. He’d gotten his contract, then. I was so very proud
of him that I ached with it.

“Not that it
matters much,” he went on, “since you’ll be moving in a few weeks.
Sadie has put together an excellent package. Don’t forget to check
out the language classes. You can have time off for those.”

Poppy gritted
her teeth. “I’ll…I’ll think about them.”

“You’ll take
them. Frankly, St. Clare, your behaviour of late has been
questionable. I was rather taken aback to hear about your
indiscretion on Friday night. You do realize that attempting to
spread slanderous rumours about ex-colleagues could mean very bad
things for the company’s reputation?”

“Of course!”
she exclaimed, hands flailing. “But I’d never–I wasn’t…”

“A lawyer who
thinks that kind of poor conduct is acceptable is not one ready for
the political piranhas in New York.” He sighed. “Now. I’m happy for
you to take the rest of the day off to begin making
arrangements.”

“I’ll…I’ll do
that.”

“The quicker
the better.” Joseph made a little flicking motion with his hand,
and she rose. “Congratulations, St. Clare. Enjoy Kazakhstan.”

Poppy bit her
lip to stop it trembling. “Thank you, Mr Merchant.” Then she
stalked out with a firm slam of the door.

I gazed at him
with an open mouth. “Really?”

“Really.” He
put his hands behind his head. “The company have been trying to get
rid of Yves like this for a while now. It’s actually a good
contract but for some reason, nobody wants to work on it.” He
sighed gleefully. “Can’t think why.”

I wanted to
leap up and throw my arms around him, but instead…

“You’re an
arse,” I said in disbelief.

“Why, thank
you, sweetheart.”

The words
melted between us. They simmered and died.

“She knows that
you’re aware of what she’s done,” I said quietly.

“Of course she
does, but short of me chucking you over the desk for a quick one,
she’s got no proof, has she?” He ran fingers through his hair. “She
fucked up on Friday and she knows I could discipline her. Silly
bitch just couldn’t resist gloating.”

“Did you always
know she was like this?”

“Leila.” He got
up, strode over. The world was a few degrees warmer when he sat
next to me. “Every time there was even a hint of you making a
mistake, she would drop it into conversation with me. I’m all for
not playing fair at times. You know that.” He was working hard not
to touch me; sparks flew from balled fists. “But I’d have noticed
if you screwed something up, regardless. She was patronizing both
of us and she enjoyed it.”

“Huh.” I wanted
to look at him, but I was too afraid of the kiss that would follow.
“Well…thank you.”

“Are you all
done with those papers?”

“Yep.” I
flicked through, checking for signatures, and set them on the glass
table. “Is there anything else?”

“I don’t know,”
he said. “Is there?”

There was a
brief knock at the door and then Kenji popped his head around. If
he was surprised to see me, then he did a decent job of ignoring
it.

“Hey. Coming
for lunch?”

Joseph nudged
me. “Want to join us?”

“Oh.” My hands
twisted awkwardly in my lap. “I’ve got plans,” I lied.

“Right. Well.”
He stood, gesturing for me to follow. “Come on, we’ll walk you
out.”

It’s a thing of
status, walking through the corridors with a partner. It sounds
silly but trainees just don’t do it unless they’re scrabbling
behind them with files for a trip out, or a tray of coffees. Now I
made my way between Joseph and Kenji and I felt eyes sticking to me
everywhere. I knew they’d all been talking about me.

Joseph steered
me with a light brush to the spine. I remembered him doing the same
at the club in New York, when nobody was meant to know we were
together. It was miserable to think that he could no longer just
touch me; now his fingers left an echo and a trail of ash.

I offered
knowing half smiles to colleagues I recognized because it felt rude
not to. We stopped in at Yves’ office to congratulate him on his
move. It was only as we left the lift and made our way toward the
foyer that I spotted Isobel, slinking toward us with Pret bags in
hand. Her sleek honeyed bob fell into her face as she glowered at
me. I felt Joseph stiffen behind as I slowed–he was as cautious as
I.

Isobel timed it
so we brushed shoulders as she passed. I ducked my head and just as
my gaze slid down, it settled upon her matte pink lips:
whore
, she mouthed. It seemed that she took minutes to say
it and there was a hiss of air as she finished the word.

Then, she
disappeared behind me. Nobody had noticed…so I thought.

Joseph froze.
“Do you know what I like most about whores, Ken?” he said
loudly.

People in suits
paused. They watched us.

Ken frowned in
mock concern. “I do not.”

Joseph cocked
his head toward Isobel, who was now loitering by a box of ferns.
“They don’t need to snort half of Columbia just to go to bed with
me,” he declared. “Funny that, isn’t it?”

Oh, dear God.
So cruel, and yet so damned satisfying.

Isobel threw us
a revolting glare. I thought she’d split at the nose. Then she
hurried off, half-tumbling off her heels and stamping in a
temper.

Ken gave a
strangled laugh. “The Chairman returns!”

“Fuck off.
Anyway.” Joseph glanced at me. “That’s that taken care of.”

I pointed back
to Isobel with a thumb. “Did…did she…really?”

He rolled his
eyes. “Couldn’t orgasm without dosing up like a human snow globe.
I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

I found myself
giggling before I could stop. “It doesn’t say much for your
standards, you know.”

“Ouch!” Ken
grimaced. “Leila, you are so getting a high five when we get out of
here.”

Joseph pouted
at me and I had to grip a pillar to keep from melting. “That’s just
mean,” he grumbled.

I followed them
out through the revolving doors and we paused at the bottom of the
steps.

“Sure you don’t
want to join us?” he asked again.

“Thanks, but I
really…I have things.”

For a few
moments, we stood apart, unsure of what to do. It still felt so
wrong to not be touching him; can blood ache? Mine did. The street
was alive with push and shove of the lunch rush but I noticed the
heat pouring from Joseph’s close body, and his aftershave carried
by the breeze.

“Is there
anything else I can do for you?” he asked finally.

I watched his
green eyes narrow in the sunlight and panic gripped me in its
sweaty fist. I was never going to see him again. This was the last
chance. “I don’t think so,” I lied. “Thanks for sorting everything
out.”

He nodded. “It
was my pleasure.”

“So…so I’ll
leave you to get on and all.”

“I suppose so.”
He twisted his hands in his pockets. “Good luck with the move.”

I wondered if I
should hug him; he leaned toward me a little, as if inviting me
into his embrace. But I would weep on his shoulder the moment I
pressed my face against it. I knew that. I thought I had begun
mourning him–
us
--these past few weeks, but I was way off.
Was it just me, or did he shiver with the same brand of melancholy,
the sizzle and snap of
what-if
? These things consumed me
now, gnashing teeth with greedy smirks.

“And you.” I
beamed despite it all, nudging his arm. “You got your contract,
yeah?”