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a-billionaire-outfoxed · 2 years

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I'm apologizing again for this taking so long, life has been a whirlwind lately! I know this is short, so please don't kill me, but I couldn't let another day go by without giving you an update! Enjoy!

Didn’t hear from you last night. Brought coffee.

After leaving the pub, she fell asleep almost instantly, the way she would when she was terribly drunk. But she hadn’t been. At least, not physically. Emotionally, perhaps. Her life had always been defined by extremes, and as she lay staring at the ceiling that night, she found herself begging for a plateau.

“Knock knock!”

Henry.

Liza raised her cup as he entered the room. “Thanks for the coffee.”

He smiled. “I thought you might need it. I know I did.”

Liza set her cup back down and flicked the lid. “I could tell. I pictured you wandering the streets, completely off your face and incandescent with rage.” She couldn’t hide a chuckle.

Neither could Henry. “Close, but no. I had a surprise call from him and instead of ignoring it, I did the decent thing and had a wee dram and gave him an ear full.”

“Please be joking.” Liza cringed, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her.

“I wish I was.” He dragged a hand down his face, his laughter subsiding. “God knows what he’s going to do now. Things could go either way.”

“Sometimes I think he’s scared of you.” Liza mused, resting her chin in her hand. “You can be a little intimidating.”

She had his full attention then. Pressing a palm against the desk, he leaned forward slowly. “Is that so?”

The proximity of their bodies made her head spin again. The depth of his cologne, the memory of the not-quite-kiss…not again. Not here. She fumbled for a pen and straightened her back.

“It doesn’t work on me anymore, though.”

“Oh, really?” He eyed her quizzically. “Are you sure? You seem a little flustered, Miss Brooks.”

Not. Again. Liza slammed the pen she was twirling onto the desk and shook her head. “You’re evil. Truly evil.”

“You love it.” He winked. “Enjoy your coffee.”

When the door clicked shut, Liza half-spun in her chair.

“What the fuck was that?” She grumbled through gritted teeth. Reaching for her phone, she left a short message for Emma. “I hate him. I actually fucking hate him. You’d better be free tonight. And please bring wine.”

It should have been something of an alarm for her, the fact that she could never face her feelings unless she was completely and utterly drunk. This had only happened once before, and the relationship she had thought was worth all her drunken confessions turned out to be one that broke her heart. In the past it had been both a blessing and a curse that she loved her hardest, loved most freely when she knew she wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Liza had always been one to sit on her feelings – any feelings – until she was fit to burst. And at this very moment, as she stared at her office door as if expecting Henry to walk into the room again, she could feel the familiar ache in her chest. One she would have to suppress if she wanted to get through the day without a hitch.

Much to both her relief and disappointment, he never called for her for the rest of the day. Of course, she wasn’t the only one at his beck and call. The thing that brought her the most relief, though, was that she didn’t hear from Grayson either. A quiet, uneventful day was just the thing she needed.

But the peace and quiet didn’t last. Just as Liza was deciding whether to stay in the office or head into the city for lunch, an email stopped her in her tracks.

You’re invited to Jen’s 30th birthday meal!

Meet us at 12:00 at The Cricketers.

There will be cake.

Liza missed her former colleagues too much to say no. She immediately replied, gathered her things and followed the giddy echo of gossip coming from the ground floor.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed by the chaos, Liza welcomed it. She was quite happy to be squashed around a dented table listening to more of Shirley’s tall tales instead of being cooped up in her office browsing the internet with a supermarket sandwich wilting in her hand. With the women assembled and food and drinks already arriving, Jen cleared her throat and shifted in her seat.

“Okay.” Jen splayed her hands out, glancing around the table. “I have a big announcement.”

An intrigued chorus of oohs. The women leaned forward in anticipation.

“She’s preggers!” Shirley blurted with a barking, hoarse laugh.

Jen rolled her eyes and batted the air. “Not yet! But, Michael gave me a key to his flat this morning. He wants me to move in!”

A ripple of excited applause drifted across the table. Jen and Michael had been dating for almost three years, and she had become the doting step-mother to his young daughter. She had been prodding at him to take the next step for months, although in her mind, the next step was in fact a leap towards marriage. But this was a good start.

Liza’s face lit up at the news. She had been one of Jen’s closest confidantes when things had been rough, and there was nothing she wanted more than for Jen to be happy. Even if it made her yearn for her own happiness in a way that brought her attention back to the ache she so badly wanted to ignore.

“Let us know when we need to buy new hats.” Karen tipped her glass and gave Jen a wink.

“I’m working on it, don’t worry.”

“Good.” Shirley gulped the last of her drink. “He needs to get you down the aisle. If it doesn’t happen soon I’ll have a word with him.”

“He’s actually afraid of you so that just might work.” Jen giggled.

“Why am I not surprised?” Shirley harrumphed in amusement.

There was a long silence as the women continued to eat. Then, Liza chipped in.

“How are things on my old stomping ground?” “An absolute shit show, to be honest.”

“That’s it, I’m asking for a demotion and coming back to help you out.”

“You bloody aren’t!” Shirley interjected, rubbing her sunburnt tattooed arm. “You’re too good for us now.” She turned to Liza. “Come on, tell us how the other half live.”

Liza sighed and rested her chin in her palm. “There’s not much to tell. I file, I send emails, I talk absolute bollocks to investors. Same shit, different day.” She shrugged. Then, she jolted. “Wait, what time is it?”

“It’s only half past, don’t tell me you have to go back already?” Jen’s shoulders dropped.

“He’s got you whipped!” Lindsey shot her an amused glance.

“I wouldn’t mind if he whipped me.” Jen wiggled her eyebrows.

Shirley made a whipping motion and whooshed loudly, sending the women into fits of laughter.

“I probably should head back. I didn’t actually tell him I was going out for lunch.” Liza slung her handbag over her shoulder and stood up. “I don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Oh no, is he going to punish you?” Jen lilted.

Liza’s lips tightened for a brief moment as she tried – and failed - to stifle a smirk. “You’re awful, the lot of you.” Rolling her eyes, she walked over to press a hand on Jen’s shoulder. “Happy birthday. I hope there’s vodka in that glass.”

“You know it.” Jen took a long sip and gave Liza’s arm a grateful pat. “Thanks for coming.”

The journey back to the office was filled with wandering thoughts. Had it really been so obvious to the other women that she felt something for Henry? Was she simply overreacting to a joke? What if she told them her true feelings? They were, after all, the keepers of many office secrets. The trouble was, this one had consequences. She decided there and then to once again sit on her feelings. To keep everything locked away in that little corner of her mind where doubt and fear resided. Maybe she was just trying to add some excitement to her work life after all. Maybe she’d convinced herself of something that wasn’t even real. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. It was too cliché. For a moment she considered logging into social media and looking up Romain. That was real. He was real. Henry was far too inconsistent. He was a good actor, she knew that much. She had only ever seen his stoic mask slip once - in Paris. In spite of his charm, there was bound to be something lurking beneath the surface. There always was with men like that. Liza shook off her thoughts as she swiped her key card against the door and began counting down the hours until she would be drowning them in gossip and Freixenet.

That night, Emma and Cay entered Liza’s flat in a giddy rush.

“I brought the bubbly because it would be to too heavy for Cay to carry. “She passed two bottles to Liza and inclined her head to her right. Cay plunged her left hand forward, proudly showing Liza the large Asscher cut diamond that did in fact seem to lay heavily on her dainty hand. The three of them erupted into a loud collective squeal, and Liza ushered them inside, immediately popping a bottle and grabbing glasses from the kitchen cupboard.

“Tell. Us. Everything.” She paused emphatically between words, the intensity of her excitement making Cay giggle and – a rare occurrence for her – blush.

“I had some time off work, so I decided to visit my parents again. Andres met me at the airport, it was two in the morning, and when I got to my hotel room there were rose petals on the bed. The ring was right next to a bottle of champagne. He got down on one knee and that was it. We phoned my parents the second the ring was on my finger.”

“But you couldn’t be bothered to ring us.” Liza shook her head, tutted and poured the drinks.

“I wanted to tell you in person.”

“You wanted to show off the ring.” Emma chided playfully.

“Fine. I wanted to show off the ring. I mean, look at it!” She brandished it again and flipped her hair.

“When you make your debut on The Real Housewives of Kensington, let us know.”

“Obviously.”

It was then, between sips of wine, that Liza realised just how much of a perfect distraction this engagement would be. She could throw herself into planning almost immediately, as Cay was not a woman who liked to waste time. And if Cay wasn’t going to linger on the stresses and strains of daily life, then in solidarity, neither would Liza.

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