Getting It Right This Time (18 page)

When she told her mum who she was going out with, the glint in her mother’s eye belied her feigned disinterest. Kate smiled. Her mother bore the same soft spot for Mark half the women in Foxton did. Damn him and his disarming smile.

Her traitorous body reacted as his face filled her mind’s eye. They would be alone. For the first time in a week. She shivered. Who knew what the night had in store? But she’d booked time in with Jo for a wax just in case…

Blinking, she re-focused on the here and now and pulled into a space outside TumbleTots Nursery. Having gotten Jess out of the car, they walked toward the nursery gate. Lucy was waiting for them at the front door. But she didn’t rush forward with her arms outstretched to envelop Jess in a suffocating hug as she usually did. Instead she stood stock still, her arms clasped tightly across her chest. A heavy weight dropped into Kate’s belly.

She stopped and looked deep into her friend’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Luce?”

Lucy bent down in front of Jessica. “Why don’t you go on inside, sweetheart? We’re painting stars and moons today, would you like that?”

Jessica eagerly nodded, her warm hand already slipping from Kate’s. “Bye, Mummy.”

Kate forced a smile and shot Lucy a concerned look over her daughter’s shoulder as she hugged her before holding her at arm’s length and looking into her emerald green eyes. “Why don’t I finish work early today so we can go to the park and feed the ducks?”

“Yay!” Jess exclaimed.

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Kate laughed. “I think that’s a yes then. See you later, darling.”

The minute she was released, the little girl raced inside, the afternoon treat not as imminent as the stars and moon. Kate’s fond smile dissolved when she turned back to Lucy. The weight in her belly quivered.

“What is it, Luce?”

“You haven’t seen it, have you?”

Kate glanced toward the nursery. “Seen what?”

“This.” Lucy whipped a magazine from behind her back and held it out in front of her.

Slowly, Kate took it from her. “What’s this? Or don’t I want to know?”

Lucy’s porcelain skin turned scarlet. “I wanted to be with you when you saw them.”

Swallowing hard, Kate forced her gaze onto the magazine. And nausea slammed into her gut and spread through her body on an undulating wave. There, in all its Technicolor glory, was a shot of Mark and Marcia outside a brightly-lit restaurant. Golds and reds and millions of lanterns lit up the happy couple like they were on the Theatre Royal stage. Their faces in profile, Marcia’s hands cupped Mark’s jaw as he tightly gripped her shoulders. Their lips were so firmly mashed together, Kate couldn’t see where Mark’s ended and Marcia’s began.

She hurriedly flicked through the pages. Her hands trembled and her temperature dropped.

There were more pictures. Pictures of Mark looking sensationally handsome in a dark suit, a microphone in his hand, a picture of him and Marcia laughing while looking adoringly into each other’s eyes, another of the two of them with their heads bent over what looked like a script, deep in mutual conversation.

“Have you read the copy?” she asked.

Lucy nodded. “It’s tabloid rubbish, Kate.”

“This is crazy. Mark wouldn’t…” She let the sentence drift off as the pages blurred. He wouldn’t what? Did she really know anything? Yet her instinct was so strong. She knew Mark was the man for her. But the camera didn’t lie, and his gaze didn’t look much different from the way it did when he looked at her.

“They might be old,” Lucy said, breaking into Kate’s thoughts. “You know what the tabloids are like, they’ll pull pictures ten years old if it will pack a bigger punch.”

Kate shook her head. “You and I both know these pictures are not old. Look at the pair of them, these were taken recently. If not days ago.” Her voice cracked as doubt and insecurity flooded her veins and destroyed her hope in one cruel sweep.

“I didn’t come back here for this. What have I done?”

Lucy stepped forward and gripped her forearm. “Hey, everything’s going to be all right.”

Kate squeezed her eyes shut and thrust the magazine toward her as though it was smeared with dog’s muck. “Take it. Take it and burn it.”

“I am so sorry.”

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Kate’s eyes snapped open. “Sorry? See? You’re thinking the exact same thing as me, aren’t you? I was wrong about Mark. Oh, God. It’s me who’s sorry. Sorry I was stupid enough to fall for him again.”

Lucy threw a hurried glance toward the nursery and then propelled Kate toward the gate.

“Let’s take a walk.”

Knowing she could not have a meltdown in front of forty kids under the age of five, Kate let Lucy drag her through the gate and out onto the street. Neither of them spoke until they were around a corner and out of sight of the nursery. And then Kate exploded like a woman possessed.

“Bastard. Shitty, smiling, charming, egoistical bastard,” she seethed, swiping at the stinging tears blurring her vision. “How could he do this to Jess? After everything I said to him!” She glared at Lucy when no answer came. “I’m asking you. How could he?”

“You don’t know he has.”

Disbelief rammed into Kate’s gut like a boxer’s fist. She tipped her head toward Lucy, her ear cocked in her direction, reminiscent of a confused canine. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

Lucy held up her hands as though protecting herself. “All I’m saying--”

Kate felt her eyes widen. “Are you saying I’m mistaken? Maybe that’s not him with his lips stuck to Marcia’s by apparent super glue?”

Lucy dropped her hands to her hips and tilted her chin. “I’m saying hear him out before you cut him off completely.”

“No.”

“It’s a photo, Kate. A moment in time. Neither you nor I can guess what happened before or after it was taken. Maybe--”

“He whipped her into an alley and they banged uglies up against the wall?” Kate snapped.

“What do I care? He lied to me. He said he was ready. He said he wouldn’t hurt Jess.”

“Jess? What about you?”

Kate cursed the trembling in her fingers as it spread to her arms, her chest, her lips. “I don’t care about me, I care about her.” A sob caught in her throat. “Damn it.”

She frantically shook her head, but it did nothing to stop Lucy coming forward and wrapping her arms around her. Kate came undone as though Lucy pulled on a fraying thread to her heart.

The tears came thick and fast, hot and painful. And stopped just as quickly. She allowed herself exactly five seconds of self-pity before shrugging Lucy’s arms off, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands and standing up straight.

“Right. Well. At least I know he is exactly the womanizing bastard the press has always claimed him to be,” she said. “Better I know now than six months down the line.”

“What are you going to do?”

Kate looked at her. “I’m going into work.”

“I meant about Mark.”

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“He’s made a stupid mistake messing with a mother. This is going to hurt my daughter. And so, he will pay.”

Lucy grimaced. “I’ll ask you again. What are you going to do?”

“He probably doesn’t even know his picture’s been taken. The quality smacks of a mobile phone to me. I’ll wait until he comes sniffing round, and then I’m going to kick his bollocks to the back of his throat before shoving a handful of incense sticks up his ass.”

Lucy grinned. “Nice.”

“I think so.” Kate turned on her heel and headed for the salon with tears burning her eyes and pain assaulting her heart as though it had been jammed in a vise.

* * * *

Mark stared at the paper as he walked from the newsagent. No wonder the girl behind the counter couldn’t look him in the eye. What the hell would Kate think when she saw this? His hands shook as he looked closer at the picture of his and Marcia’s second-long lip lock now captured as a significant moment in time by an opportunist photographer. He couldn’t blame Underwood for this one. The photograph was the work of an amateur at best--more likely a screwed up fan of Marcia’s.

Marcia.

Could she? Would she? He squeezed his eyes shut and crumpled the paper in his fists. Was he mad to keep thinking she could be behind the obstacles constantly being flung in his and Kate’s path? He opened his eyes and looked to the sky. Or was it forces above and beyond him, a mere mortal? Guilt scorched his face as it had his conscience and heart a million times since Kate turned up at the theatre and Mark knew he had to have her.

Was it so surprising things kept going wrong? He was betraying his dead friend whichever way anyone looked at it.

Cursing, he flung the paper in a trash can as he passed it. He would go to Kate’s salon and explain. Maybe she’d already come to the conclusion there would be a reasonable explanation…no, he knew her and all she’d been thinking of was Jessica. He swallowed. Jesus. He was in deep shit.

The ringing of his mobile interrupted his meanderings of how he could at least protect his manhood if nothing else. He looked at the display. It was his personal assistant.

“Liam?”

“Mark, thank God. You’d better come in.”

“What’s wrong now? I don’t need anymore disasters today. Have you seen the papers?”

“There’s been a break in. Your office is a total mess. I can’t tell if anything’s missing. You’d better get down here asap. Shall I call the police?”

Mark shoved the hair back from his face, held it in his fist. “What? No. The press will get wind of it, and then the whole town will jump on the bandwagon. Just wait until I get there.”

Snapping the phone shut, he sprinted to his car. He plugged the phone into the hands-free console and dialed Kate’s number. It went straight to voice mail. He frowned. If he didn’t know her better, he’d suspect she’d rejected his call. Narrowing his eyes, he dialed the number for the 94

Getting It Right This Time

salon. She could yell at him, hit him, damn well spit at him, but she would not ignore him. They could handle this--one stupid photo was nothing compared to what the press could do if they really put their minds to it. Kate was stronger than this. So was he.

The phone rang four times before Jo picked up.

“Is she there?” Mark demanded.

A pause. “Excuse me?”

Mark turned the ignition and pulled away from the curb, fluidly joining the traffic. “Jo, it’s Mark Johnston. Is Kate there?”

Another pause. “She’s…she’s…”

“Standing right beside you, frantically shaking her head and telling you to tell me I can shove my dick up my ass, right?”

She giggled. “Pretty much. So what shall I tell her?”

Mark couldn’t help smiling. Kate’s temper was just another thing he loved about her. But when he was on the receiving end, it might be a different ball game altogether. He swallowed.

“Tell her not to make her mind up about the photo of me and Marcia yet. Tell her I will come round to the salon as soon as I’ve sorted out a crisis at the office. And tell her I am taking her out for lunch, no arguments.”

“But--”

He pressed the
end call
button and heaved out a breath. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as his heart rate slowed. He’d bought some time by checking in, but God only knew how he’d get her to leave the salon.

He reached his office building in record time and sprinted to the lift. When the door slid open at the floor housing The Johnston Agency, he surged forward. His staff rose from their seats one by one, whether in sympathy or curiosity Mark didn’t take the time to contemplate. He needed to see the damage for himself, needed to identify if anything was missing.

He scanned the outer office as he made his way to his own office. Nothing was touched.

Nothing disturbed. Which meant the ransacking was personal rather than a random act of violence.

He stormed into his office to find Liam hunched down gathering papers, clearly trying to assemble some sort of order.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark huffed. “What the fuck happened?”

Liam threw his hands in the air. “Morning, boss.”

“What happened?”

“I got here at eight and found it like this. I rang you straight away,” Liam said. “Whoever did this seemed intent on making a bloody mess, that’s for sure.”

Slamming the door shut behind him, Mark turned the lock and strode toward his assistant.

“But is everything here?”

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“I don’t know. Until I get the clients’ files back in order it’s hard to tell. It feels as though whoever did this literally picked the files up, gave them a shake and then dumped them all over the bloody place. You were right to push the paperless thing, Mark. Thank God most of this stuff is scanned and archived.”

“Where’s Marcia Langton’s file?”

Liam’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Marcia Langton. Where is it?”

Liam scanned the area around him, snatched up a manila folder and thrust it at Mark. “Here.”

Mark quickly flicked through the contents. Everything seemed to be there. Her copy contracts, appearances, fees received and cashed. “Well, at least that one seems to be okay.”

“Why did you go straight to Marcia’s?” Liam asked. “I mean, I know she’s the star of the moment but…”

“Because she and I were snapped by some passerby outside Encore last night. Whoever took the damn picture sold it overnight. I can’t help wondering…”

“You think someone’s causing trouble for her?”

“For her, for me. I don’t know. My life is getting more and more complicated since Kate came into it, but I’ll be damned if I’m giving her up.”

Liam stood up and grinned. “I don’t blame you, man. She is a bloody good-looking woman.”

Mark looked at him and smiled, the tension in his shoulders marginally easing. “She is, isn’t she? And smart, and sexy and everything else I damn well want.” The grin wavered and the tension returned. “But someone certainly isn’t as happy about our reunion as I am.”

“You seriously think someone’s out to hammer what you’ve got going on with her?”

“I don’t know, things just aren’t right. The press, the photos, this… I can’t help thinking Underwood…”