Perfect Stranger (20 page)

We argued on Friday night about my attending the kick-off the day after. I planned to go home afterward, and then come back down to London on Monday. It made far more sense to return to London on Sunday morning, but I felt as sulky as a teenager defying her father. It wasn’t like me.

“What’s the matter?” I snapped. “Do you think I’ll go up to Manchester and not come back?”

“It crossed my mind.” Jordan stood there, arms folded, lines puckering his forehead. He looked as stressed as me, and I regretted the way I behaved. We were adults, even if we seemed unable to act as such.

“I said I’ll marry you. I don’t break my word, Jordan.” It was easy to concede on this matter, and I agreed to come back to London after the day in Birmingham. Now I was pregnant, there’d be no boozy post-kick-off session, and I might get the late train on Saturday night. I didn’t trust myself to drive. My concentration was non-existent.

Jordan insisted he’d pick me up. He’d drive almost two hours to collect me, and then back again. I stared at him. “You don’t have to do that. I can take the train.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m doing this because I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in an unsafe situation.” For a second, he looked vulnerable. “Let me look after you, Kate. Let me at least do that.”

* * * *

I walked into the conference room the next day and paused inside the entrance. I felt weird. Like I was hyped up on too much caffeine, my head buzzing and brain hurtling on a hamster wheel, but remote at the same time. I was tired. An invisible wall had grown in Jordan’s bed, with me on one side, while he lay miles away. I didn’t sleep much, and from the sighing coming from his side, he didn’t either.

My team greeted me, Colin nodded as he walked past, and the company directors said
hello
on their way in. There was no sign of Adam, and that was good. I emailed to tell him I needed a couple more days off, but he didn’t reply.

I snagged a seat at the back, near the doors, with people from another branch that I didn’t know well. Coping with questions from my team would be my undoing. I watched the presentations, clapped politely when required, and tuned out everything else.

Adam found me when we broke for lunch. “Ah, Kate. There you are.”

My emotional state was already razor edged. It wouldn’t take much for me to unleash my frustration with him, and I eyed him, trying to gauge his mood. He looked smug and cold.

“Adam. Did you see my leave request for next week?”

“Yes.” He stroked his chin with his fingertips. “I guess congratulations are in order. Getting married, eh?”

“Thank you.”

“A couple of days won’t be much of a honeymoon for you. Take the week off. You don’t have to use your holiday allowance.”

At any other time, I might have been suspicious, but I was so tired I didn’t care. “If you’re sure, I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“No problem.” There was his shark-like smile. “We’ll be fine without you.” He strolled away, and next minute was backslapping another guy, laughing and joking.

What just happened? Had he developed a conscience?

I resumed my seat and sipped a glass of water, the only thing that didn’t make me feel sick. I tried to focus on the presentations—long, dull finance reports that threatened to send me to sleep. Did I need to be here today? If I’d stayed at Jordan’s, would anyone have noticed? I sneaked a glance at the time on my phone. Almost four. He promised to collect me at seven. Could I ask him to come early? If he set off now, he might be here by six-thirty. I was tempted.

Quiet descended over the crowded hall. I glanced at the screen and saw Adam on stage, with the man he’d greeted earlier. They wore matching grins. What did I miss?

I stared at the screen.
Exciting news
, proclaimed the heading. I skimmed the bullet points.

Micro-Tel-Inc

Partnership

Growing in new directions

I’d heard of Micro-Tel-Inc. They were a communications company, and by the sound of it, ComCo’s latest partner. We were allied with a number of other organizations, and it worked well as a business model. I could read the fine details later.

My wedding day wasn’t how I imagined it.

I fussed at the neckline of the dress I wore. Sophie had dragged me to the stores on Sunday, and I bought the first thing I saw—an oyster-colored shift. I liked it on the hanger, but it made me look paler than ever. If I lost any more color, I’d be like a ghost. That was how I felt. A phantom, drifting aimlessly, while everyone else got on with their lives.

Sophie was busy threading silk flowers into my hair. She couldn’t stop talking about Jordan. How generous he was. How kind. How fantastic to offer her the job at TM-Tech. How wonderful my life was going to be with him and the baby. Did I want a boy or a girl?

Jordan tried to start numerous conversations with me, but I shut him down each time. I had nothing to say, to him or anyone. He made all the arrangements for today, and all I had to do was show up. It felt more like a business meeting than the start of our marriage. He hadn’t mentioned a honeymoon. It wouldn’t surprise me if he went straight back to work afterward.

“Here’s Jordan now. I’ll see if Isaac is ready.” Sophie darted away, and I turned my attention to my makeup bag and pretended to look for something.

Jordan stood behind me, and our gazes met in the mirror. I searched his face. I wanted to see something that would tell me he was happy with this, but it was like looking at a mask.

“You look beautiful.” His voice was strained, as though he’d rehearsed the words.

I forced a smile. This in no way resembled what I wanted.

I longed for him to hold me and kiss me. I needed his strength, more than ever before, but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I knew he hated the idea of getting married. Maybe in time he’d soften and grow to love me and our child. At the moment, he treated me with the polite attention of a stranger, asking if I wanted more tea or anything to eat. He avoided me physically, as well. That cut deep.

“Is it time to go?”

He met my gaze again. He seemed about to say something, and I willed him on, but he changed his mind and looked away. He took my arm and led me into the living room, where an excited Sophie stood waiting. She thrust a bouquet of tiny pale-pink roses at me, chattering happily.

We met Isobel and Greg at the Registry Office. They arrived just after us, whispering and giggling as they walked in. I gave her the best smile I could manage and introduced them to Jordan. He stared at her with narrowed eyes, as though she annoyed him. Did she look too happy? She was one of my best friends, and he’d have to accept that she was bright and bubbly.

The ceremony passed in a blur. I gave my responses, and Jordan slipped a plain gold band onto my finger, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall any details. I sat in the Savoy and plastered a smile on my face. I tried to look happy, but my heart was breaking.

Jordan made small talk with Isaac and Sophie, and I watched as though from miles away. Would those sensual lips ever kiss me again? Would those hands ever caress me? Was all that over now?

He spoke to Greg but cut Isobel dead. I watched her expression change from open curiosity to puzzlement, and I sighed. He couldn’t be civil to my friend.

Greg was clearly besotted with Isobel. He either held her hand or draped a possessive arm around her, proudly showing the world he was in love with her.
That was us a few weeks ago
, I wanted to cry. Jordan wanted me then. Before I trapped him with an unplanned baby.

What a contrast to now. We were barely civil with each other. Conversation was reduced to the bare minimum, and physical contact nowhere to be seen. How the hell was this pathetic excuse of a marriage to survive?

Somewhere deep inside, I was getting angry. I’d been walking around in a daze, as though sleepwalking, since Gran died.

I had to get my act together. While there was still something of me left.

By the time we checked in to the Paris Savoy, Kate looked ready to drop. I figured it’d be easier to eat in the hotel restaurant, rather than go out. It was our wedding night. I wanted it to be special for her.

Was it only a week ago I worried we might have no future together? The gods had to be laughing their asses off at me. This wasn’t what I had in mind. The woman opposite me looked like a wan and washed out version of Kate. Her vibrant personality had vanished. Snuffed out with a gold band. She seemed fragile, unsteady on her feet, and distracted. Several times she rubbed her temples and winced. I asked if she wanted to go back to our suite, but she waved my concerns away.

“I’m tired” The same thing she’d been saying for the last three days. By my calculations, she was three weeks pregnant. If she was exhausted now, how would she be in a few months? As soon as we returned to London, I wanted to find her a good obstetrician. Make sure she was okay. If she needed to rest, I’d make sure she could. I’d do whatever it took to keep her healthy. Happy was another matter.

I couldn’t let this go wrong, and I didn’t want to be like my father. For me, marriage was for life. And maybe we’d jumped a few steps ahead, but we were good together, like I told her. It crippled me to see her so frozen, shutting me out at every turn.

She picked at her food, shuffling it around the plate before pushing it aside.

I tried to get a conversation going. Had she been to Paris before? Was there anywhere she’d like to go? I knew some great shopping areas, and the Louvre was a
must
for new visitors. Kate’s interest levels were nonexistent. I felt lucky if she muttered a vague response. Most of the time she shrugged or stared into the distance. I gave up.

As she toyed with coffee, she looked directly at me and raised her chin. I recognized that as trouble ahead and was on my guard.

“Jordan, why were you so rude to Isobel? She’s my best friend. One of them. I saw you talking to Greg, but every time she spoke, you cut her dead. What was that about?”

Fuck. I hoped to avoid this, tonight especially. I wiped my mouth on the napkin, buying time as I contemplated what to say. “How long has she been engaged to Greg?”

Kate tugged her brows together and looked puzzled. “Not long, but they’ve been a couple at least two years. What’s that got to do with anything?”

I was torn. I didn’t want to upset Kate, but I also didn’t want to lie to her. “Maybe I’m old fashioned, but where I come from, engaged women don’t make out in bars with other men.”

Kate gaped, then laughed. “What are you on about? You’ve only just met her.”

“Only just been
introduced
to her. I’ve seen her before, with your boss.”

“Adam? But that’s over now.”

“You
know
about it? I have to say it didn’t look very
over
when I saw them.”

“Really?” She injected a wealth of sarcasm into the word. “When was this? And where? Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

I was offended by her disbelief. “Kate, it’s my business to know people, and I never forget a face. Remember that night at Dukes 92?” She nodded. “I told you I saw Adam there. I didn’t think anything of it. Then I saw a glamorous blonde meet him. They didn’t stay long after he stuck his tongue down her throat and his hand in her pants. In a public bar.”

“And?”

“And that blonde turns out to be Isobel, one of your
best friends
, who is engaged to be married to a guy who thinks the sun shines out of her ass. I guess he doesn’t know he shares her with your boss.” I sat back in my seat. “You could say I’m not impressed with your choice of best friend.”

“She said it was over.”

“You knew, and it didn’t bother you?”

“Of course it bothered me, but it was none of my business.”

“I
make
it my business to hang out with people I can trust. If she can cheat on her fiancé, what else is she lying about? I’d be careful if I were you. From what you’ve told me, Adam is a first-rate sleazeball. I think they’re a good match.”

“I’ve had enough of this. I’m going upstairs.” Kate rammed her chair backward, almost knocked over a waiter, and stormed out of the restaurant.

Well done
. This was like walking on eggshells. I signed the room chit and headed after her.

* * * *

I found her in our suite, sitting in an armchair and gazing at the city skyline. She didn’t acknowledge my presence when I walked in, and I strode to the mini-bar for a whisky. I needed a boost to my flagging courage.

Looking down at her, I nursed the drink and asked, “How long do you intend to keep this up?”

Kate scowled at me. “Keep what up?”

“I think you know. We may as well make the best of it.”

She huffed a toneless laugh and shook her head. “
You
know very well I didn’t want to get married.”

“Yup. I kinda guessed that.”

She scrambled to her feet and clenched her fists by her sides. “I think it’s called a marriage of convenience. It certainly isn’t a marriage of love. Is it?”

Before I could find the pretty words I desperately needed, she turned, went into the bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

How did it all go so wrong? And so quickly? I was at a loss. I wanted us to make a life together, but whatever I tried to say backfired.

With a shaking hand, I placed the whisky on the side table and sprawled on the sofa. For the first time in my adult life, I honestly didn’t know what to do.