Unsticky (66 page)

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Authors: Sarah Manning

BOOK: Unsticky
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Vaughn didn’t come in, but stuck his head cautiously round the door as if he half-expected to have something heavy thrown at him.
 
‘You’re back?’
 
‘Looks like it,’ Grace agreed, and Vaughn didn’t even flinch at her flippant tone, which obviously meant he wanted to make up.
 
‘I thought we could go to that little Italian on Parkway for dinner. You like it there, don’t you?’
 
Situated in Camden Town, it was one of Grace’s favourite places, though Vaughn hated it because it was every Italian restaurant cliché rolled into one, from the candles in Chianti bottles to the winking waiters brandishing alarmingly long pepper grinders.
 
‘That would be nice.’ Grace took a little beaded vintage cardie off its padded hanger and said casually, ‘So, are you taking me out because you’re hoping I won’t scream at you in a public place?’
 
‘Something like that,’ Vaughn conceded with a small smile, stepping into the room. ‘Let me help you.’
 
He was there in an instant, taking the cardigan from Grace so he could carefully ease her arms into the sleeves as if she suffered from brittle bones and wasn’t likely to slug him if he made any sudden moves. Then, of course, he turned Grace round so he could do up all the buttons, hands brushing against her breasts, which had to be deliberate because Vaughn knew that when her blood was up, even the most incidental of touches could make her wet.
 
‘We could just stay in?’ Vaughn suggested with the faintest hint of a raised eyebrow. ‘If you’d prefer.’
 
Grace deliberately stepped away. She was angry at her body for going into arousal mode because Vaughn had invaded her personal space bubble. And she was really angry at Vaughn for thinking all he had to do was get her naked and horizontal, so she’d pretty much agree to anything he wanted, just to get his hands and mouth on her.
 
‘I could really fancy some cannelloni, how about you?’ she said instead.
 
Stuffing Vaughn full of pasta was one of Grace’s better ideas. It meant that she wasn’t his sole focus as he wolfed down a plate of lasagne, so hot it bubbled at the edges. Sometimes Grace wondered why Vaughn was so fixated on money when really his pleasures were simple: food and sex. In that order.
 
They talked about Grace’s Dungeness shoot and Gustav’s latest diktat, which involved ankle weights, but though they skilfully avoided mentioning the elephant in the room, it was there, possibly by the dessert trolley wearing a tutu.
 
‘Have you got plans for Friday evening?’ Vaughn asked, when their plates had been cleared. ‘There’s a photography exhibition at Tate Modern that I thought you might enjoy.’
 
‘So, what did you do today after you’d taken off your ankle weights?’ Grace asked, pointedly ignoring Vaughn’s lame attempt to curry favour.
 
Vaughn smiled winsomely, which didn’t suit him at all. ‘I spent all day trying to buy you a tiara.’
 
Grace couldn’t hold back a snort. ‘Yeah, right.’
 
‘I did! I knew Tiffany’s was a no go but I tried Cartier, Van Cleef and Arpels, Asprey’s, even a few dealers but I couldn’t find one. Then I decided it wasn’t the most practical piece of jewellery. Knowing you, you’d get mugged on the way to work.’
 
‘True,’ Grace said, deciding to play along and see where Vaughn was going with this.
 
He was going as far as his jacket pocket to pull out a small velvet box. ‘So I got you this instead.’
 
Vaughn pushed the box across the table with one finger. Grace could see their waiter approaching, but as he caught sight of the box he stopped in his tracks. It was the kind of restaurant that dimmed the lights so all the waiters could line up to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and force their victim to blow out a candle shoved into a piece of tiramisu. Grace could tell that their server thought an engagement was in the offing, in which case he was going to be sorely disappointed.
 
Still, she gasped when she opened the box with fumbling fingers and saw a brooch: a sheaf of flowers, their petals sparkling blue stones, the stems secured with a ribbon picked out in diamonds.
 
‘Art Deco,’ Vaughn said. ‘I thought the aquamarines and platinum would go with the necklace and bracelet I bought you for Christmas.’
 
‘It’s beautiful,’ Grace sighed, stroking it with the tip of one finger. ‘Thank you.’
 
‘So are we friends again?’
 
‘No, we’re not - and really, I don’t think we ever were.’ Grace closed the box. ‘You know, you could just say sorry. It would be a lot cheaper.’ Usually receiving expensive gifts made Grace go giddy around the gills, but this time she’d rather have had something else instead of jewellery. Reassurance, for instance.
 
‘I could, but as far as I can remember, I didn’t actually do anything wrong,’ Vaughn said and it was his mildest voice, which always made Grace feel instantly defensive.
 
‘Yeah, but . . .’
 
‘Everything I said to you in my office that day was the truth. If you’d wanted to know more, you should have asked. And even though I’ve come to care for you - a lot - it doesn’t change the fact that we have an agreement, which has reached a natural end.’
 
‘But you said all those things to me about how happy you were and how good we are together. I didn’t just imagine that - and then, two days later, it’s suddenly just a business arrangement.
You gave me thirty days’ notice!
’
 
‘You’ve read far more into what I did or didn’t say, than you should,’ Vaughn said softly. ‘The fact is, Grace, you’ve become too emotionally invested. You’ve begun to treat me like a boyfriend - buying me presents . . .’
 
Grace’s jaw dropped. ‘You buy
me
presents all the time!’ she hissed, holding up the brooch and waving it in Vaughn’s face.
 
‘That’s completely different,’ Vaughn said quickly. ‘You’re my mistress, not my girlfriend. We had an agreement, not a relationship, but you kept blurring the lines until I don’t think either of us even knew where the lines were any more.’
 
‘But you called it a relationship first, and even if it isn’t, there was still an
us
and I can’t believe you would do this to
us
!’
 
‘You need to grow up,’ Vaughn told her ruthlessly. ‘There’s nothing to be gained from mistaking good sex for something more meaningful.’
 
It was so cold that all Grace could do was gape at Vaughn. She felt as if something inside her had just curled up and died. As far as Vaughn was concerned, she’d just been a good lay and she was stupid to believe that he’d felt anything else for her.
 
‘Y’know, every time I think I get you, I realise I don’t. You give me jewellery when I’m really hating on you, and then when I think, Well, maybe I got Vaughn wrong, you open your mouth and ruin everything.’ Grace folded her arms. ‘I’m sick of it.’
 
‘I don’t think my personality stands up to close examination,’ Vaughn said quietly. He waved away the waiter with a casual flick of his hand. ‘Now, can we approach the subject of how we’re going to dissolve our partnership without any temper tantrums?’
 
Grace nodded. She didn’t feel as if she had the energy to even raise her voice.
 
‘You’ll keep all the gifts you’ve received and anything you purchased using the allowances or credit card,’ Vaughn began. Grace hadn’t even realised that not keeping them was an option, but apparently it was. She hadn’t realised either that ‘dissolving their partnership’ was Vaughn-speak for negotiating her goodbye gift, though he probably had some fancy name for that as well, like a signing-off bonus or something.
 
‘Vaughn, can we please just not do this?’
 
‘I hadn’t finished,’ he said crisply. ‘You can keep the credit card for one year with a monthly limit of five thousand pounds.’
 
So, it wasn’t going to be a clean break then, because Vaughn would be in her life, or his fund manager would, for twelve more months. ‘Oh great,’ Grace said sarcastically. ‘So when you’re between arrangements, does that mean I can expect a visit, as I’m still on the payroll?’
 
‘No,’ Vaughn said so quickly that it would have completely crushed Grace’s ego if he hadn’t done such a thorough job of it five minutes ago. ‘I’m also going to invest in some art for you. Nothing too abstract. How does that sound?’
 
Grace knew this was meant to be a negotiation, but quibbling over the details seemed so tacky and actually she didn’t care about the state of her finances; she cared about the state of them - of her and Vaughn.
 
‘Great,’ she said listlessly.
 
‘You are going to be fine, Grace. You must have known that I’d take care of you so I’m going to buy you your own flat. I was thinking of something near where you used to live, but more towards Dartmouth Park, though obviously you’ll want to make that decision.’
 
‘Are you kidding me?’ Grace breathed. She felt a wave of shock slam into her so she had to clutch the edge of the table. ‘No - it’s too much. You can’t and it’s not—’
 
‘We both know that you’ll accept this . . . this token of my appreciation, so why don’t we simply cut out the next ten minutes of self-flagellation,’ Vaughn said, acid-drop sour. ‘Isn’t it obvious that I’ve always had your best interests in mind?’
 
‘You totally played me and you can pretend that you’ve been honest with me from the start, but we both know that’s a lie.’ She shrugged, profoundly glad that she was dry-eyed for once and her voice was hardly shaking.
 
‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what happens to people who live in glass houses,’ Vaughn reminded her, and she didn’t know how he had the stones to look her in the eye and not wither from shame right where he sat. ‘You were economical with the truth too, as I recall. Now shall we stop the recriminations and go back to discussing this like grown-ups?’
 
‘If it’s over, then why do you want me to stick around for another month?’ Grace demanded. ‘If you don’t care about me, then you should be happy to get me out of your hair as quickly as possible, and God knows, I can’t take thirty more days of being with someone who doesn’t want to be with me.’
 
‘Of course I care about you,’ Vaughn said fiercely, and Grace wanted to believe him, but all evidence suggested just the opposite. ‘That’s why I insist that you see out the month so I have enough time to get your affairs in order,’ he added, because he was oh so kind and considerate. ‘We’ll have a couple more dinners and invite some creative directors, designers and such. I’ll even get Madeleine to set up a meeting with some agents who can rep you as a freelance stylist. There’s really no need to worry.’
 
Grace gave a tiny bitten-off groan. ‘Don’t you see, you’re putting me in an impossible position? You’re offering me things - big, life-changing things - that I want to turn down, but I can’t and then I’m, like, beholden to you. I owe you and I end up doing whatever it is you want, even if everything inside me is telling me not to.’ She rested her elbows on the table so she could put her aching head in her hands. ‘Please don’t do this to me.’
 
She looked across at Vaughn and the flickering candle on the table cast shadows over his face, and for a moment Grace was sure she could see him struggling as much as she was. That all the complicated things she was overdosing on, doubt and uncertainty and sadness, because she was in mourning for something that hadn’t even existed, was what he was feeling too. But it had to have been a trick of the light because Vaughn moved the candle so he could take her hand and his face was wearing that bland expression that made her want to scream.
 
‘In a few months’ time you’ll look back on this and realise it was absolutely the right thing to do at absolutely the right time,’ he said, trying to entwine Grace’s fingers with his, until she snatched her hand back. ‘That you’re better off for this.’
 
‘Better off because I’ve let myself be bought and sold?’ Grace asked bitterly, and now it was easy to read Vaughn’s face; he was suddenly and blisteringly angry.
 
‘Don’t say that,’ he demanded. ‘It’s simply not true and I’m not talking about the material benefits of our arrangement. I’m talking about us going our separate ways. It’s the best thing for you.’
 
‘You have no right to decide what’s best for me,’ Grace argued, but she’d given him that right, when she’d signed a contract which contained the clause
Other duties: as required
. ‘You should have discussed it with me first.’
 
‘I’m discussing it with you now.’ Vaughn leaned back and Grace saw him take a deep breath before he adjusted his posture so his back was as stiff as his face. ‘You’ll accept what I’ve offered you.’

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