An Autumn Crush (24 page)

‘That doesn’t make sense,’ sniffed Coco. ‘She was the one who said that you should move relationships from cyberspace into the real world as soon as possible. So how come
she never goes out to meet him? And that doesn’t explain why she’s so obviously depressed, does it?’

‘Hmm,’ mused Juliet. Well, that totally cocked up her theory. Then she suddenly thought of another angle. ‘Ah, what about this then? You’re right, Floz was adamant that
she didn’t want to join up to Singlebods with us, but she seemed to know an awful lot about online dating. Maybe she’s a bit embarrassed about admitting she’s on a site after
being so negative about it to us. Maybe she’s doing everything she told us not to do, because we all know how hard it is to follow your own advice.’

‘Maybe,’ agreed Coco. ‘And maybe she’s down because she’s feeling a bit lonely with you and Steve getting it together and seeing Gideon and myself getting on so
well after meeting on the net that she’s giving it a go but keeping it secret. Oh, I do hope she’s found someone nice.’

‘Oh God no. I hope I’m not making her feel pushed out. I’ve asked her if I am, and she said no. What if she’s not telling the truth to spare my feelings? I have to find
out what’s going on, Coco. What do I do?’

‘I’ve got to go, Ju. I’ll have a think and get back to you. The wholesale rep has just arrived. He’s very handsome.’

‘Oy, eyes down, you! You’re taken.’

‘I know,’ chuckled Coco. ‘
Ciao bella.
’

Juliet hit disconnect and pondered on the mysteries that were filling her life at the moment. Number one mystery still being: where the bloody hell was her period?

Floz read the email and again imagined the big hunter-gatherer man in his photos reduced to the indignities he was now suffering whilst clawing at his
last reserves of dignity and independence which were slipping away from him with every hour that passed. He couldn’t even manage to write their full names on the email.

Floz got up from her office chair and reached for the tissues on the windowsill. Outside, a crocodile of paired-up children carrying baskets was winding down the road from the school. It must be
Harvest Festival, thought Floz, and they were heading to church with their gifts of groceries and fruit collected for local pensioners. They were all wrapped up warm against the biting wind which
was tugging at the remaining leaves on the trees and whirling them into drifts against walls.

‘Conkers, I’m collecting conkers, I’m trying hard to find the biggest and the best,’
they were trilling.

The sight of them brought a desperately needed lightness to her heart.

Then Lee Status, bless him, rang her up and dragged her fully into the here and now by asking her if she could get him ten jokes about boobs written by the end of the day.

Piers Winstanley-Black studied Juliet as she looked for a file in the cabinet. She had worked with him for over four years but he was only really
seeing
her recently. He
wouldn’t have said she was his regular physical type, which was stick-thin, blonde, big jugs and personality way down on the list of importance. He was getting bored rigid by his regular
type. There was little thrill in the chase, because they took one look at his Rolex or one of his elite cars and instantly dropped their knickers. And any pride he found in the beautiful trophies
he escorted to restaurants was equally short-lived. Going out to dinner with a woman who thought that Puccini was a sort of pasta was no longer even vaguely amusing.

He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t considered Juliet as a potential mate before. She was the full package really – body like an earth mother, fab knockers and long shapely
legs, a thick sheen of black hair, full red lips, sparkling slate-grey eyes. She dressed beautifully, oozed sexual confidence and had the cheekiest smile, thanks to that gap in her front teeth. And
she was bright, intelligent, professional. And, these days, she was giving him those disinterested looks that made him want to win her over and see once again that adoration that had been there
since he first introduced himself as her new boss.

They were alone in the office. He had deliberately waited until Daphne and Amanda were at lunch before calling into the office on the pretext of looking for a file which he knew was sitting on
his desk upstairs.

‘Er, Juliet,’ he called. She didn’t respond, and even that excited him a little. ‘Juliet!’

‘Oh yes, sorry, Piers,’ she said, smiling at him. An employee smile though, not the usual ‘proper’ one.

‘I’ve been thinking. Are you doing anything on Thursday night?’

‘Thursday?’ Oh God, she hoped he wasn’t going to ask her to work late. She was thinking about asking Steve if he wanted to go to the pics to see that new action film he’d
been raving about. ‘I’m not sure.’

Hard to get. Wow. He had to win her.

‘I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me.’

Bloody hell. Juliet really hadn’t seen that one coming. Dinner. With Piers Winstanley-Black! She’d waited longer for him than Sleeping Beauty had for her prince.

‘That would be wonderful,’ she said, sounding cool and calm and collected with no desire to run around the room screaming ‘
Yesss
,’ as she had imagined she would do
if she were ever in this position.

‘I thought we might try out that new restaurant near Huddersfield. Four Trees.’

‘Four Trees!’ Juliet tried to keep the stammer out of her voice. Four Trees was very expensive and swanky, and the waiting-list for a table was weeks – if not months –
for anyone who didn’t know someone there who could pull a few strings. The chef had been trained by Raul Cruz, the Spanish super-chef who made Gordon Ramsay look like a dinner-lady.
‘Lovely.’

‘My driver will pick you up, then we can both have a glass of wine,’ said Piers. ‘I think I’ll enjoy having dinner with you, Juliet.’

‘Yes, that will be very nice,’ said Juliet, returning her attention to the file and wondering why, after the initial explosion in her head and pants, the prospect of a date with her
dream man wasn’t half as exciting as the long anticipation of it had always been.

‘You’re in shock, that’s why,’ said Coco on the office phone later. ‘You didn’t think it would ever happen and your brain can’t
process that it has.’

‘Me – going out to dinner with Piers Winstanley-Black! Juliet Winstanley-Black. Mrs Juliet Winstanley-Black.’

‘And you think
I
jump the gun,’ said Coco. ‘Anyway, listen,
I
rang
you
to tell you some information. Guess who has just texted me?’

‘The Pope? Deirdre from
Coronation Street
? I don’t know – thrill me.’

‘Darren,’ said Coco with delight.

‘Darren? As in Disappearing Darren?’

‘Yep!’

‘What did he say?’

‘ “Hello, how are you? I’ve missed you”.’

‘Didn’t miss you that much that he couldn’t pick up the pissing phone,’ huffed Juliet. ‘I hope you told him to go fuck himself.’

‘Nope,’ said Coco with a very self-satisfied grin. ‘I’m returning the silent treatment and ignoring him.’

‘Good for you,’ said Juliet, impressed. ‘Take back the power and don’t give the bastard head-space.’

‘Which is surprisingly easy with Gideon in my life,’ said Coco with a contented sigh. ‘He brought me chocolates and champagne last night and a DVD of
An Affair to
Remember
which we watched from start to finish. It was such a lovely evening. Anyway, less of me and more of you – what are you going to wear for your big date? Something black and
sophisticated? Shall I come dress-hunting with you tomorrow?’

‘Yes, please,’ begged Juliet. She shifted in her chair and, because her mobile phone was in her back trouser pocket, she did the customary trick of making it ring ‘1’ on
speed-dial, something which used to drive Coco mad until he made her remove his number from the list. Steve was now number ‘1’ and when his phone rumbled in his pocket, he picked up and
quickly realized that Juliet had rung him by mistake. She was on a landline phone to someone, judging from the half of the conversation that he could hear.

‘Have you told Steve?’ asked Coco.

‘I haven’t told him yet. Anyway, the deal was that we’d only be together until I pulled Piers or he pulled Lambrini. Obviously I’ll have to tell him before I go out with
Piers on Thursday.’

‘Yes,’ replied Coco. ‘I suppose it’ll have to end if you’re going out with the boss.’

‘I was never “going out” with Steve anyway, it was just sex. He knows that and I know that,’ said Juliet. ‘I couldn’t seriously look at someone like Steve
Feast, for God’s sake. He’s a knob.’

‘Bit harsh,’ said Coco. ‘I’ve always thought he wasn’t half as bad as you painted him. And just remember what he did for your brother when he needed a
friend.’

Juliet didn’t admit it to Coco, but she knew it was a bit harsh too. She was protesting too much and she didn’t really know why.

Steve hung up on his mobile. He had a sharp ache in his chest that spread through him until he was filled with it. He didn’t know why he was so cut up about what he had
just heard. He knew that Juliet had always thought of him as a knob and the rules had been very clear from day one that their arrangement was ‘just sex’, and a temporary one. He
hadn’t learned anything new from hearing her talking on the phone then.

Maybe it was time to test-drive that Merc and seriously go for Chianti Parkin with a full charm – and expensive car – offensive. And forget once and for all about Juliet Bloody
Miller.

When Juliet received the curt text message from Steve to say that he wouldn’t be over that evening as he was too busy, she tried not to admit to herself that she felt a
stab of disappointment. In the three weeks since their ‘just sex’ pact, she had seen him every day and taken it for granted that this would continue. But it seemed he had blown cold on
her now, so that gave her all the excuse she needed to forget about him and concentrate on the big prize. She wondered why Piers Winstanley-Black had suddenly turned the spotlight of his attention
onto her and whether it was because she had turned her spotlight away from him. Once Darren realized that Coco wasn’t pining for him, he had come running back with his tail between his legs.
There was a lot to be said for the old adage ‘Treat them mean, keep them keen.’ Games, though. Oh, to be happily settled and past all the head-fuckery that relationships inevitably
brought with them.

Piers had even brought her over a coffee that afternoon, much to the delight of Daphne and Amanda, who were making kissy faces behind him. And he seemed to be hanging around her office today,
passing little verbal niceties and making up for years of ignoring her. It was all incredibly flattering.

She rang Floz and asked if she fancied sharing a Chinese with Coco as she wanted to celebrate the news of her impending date. It was four meals for a tenner at the Great Wall – including
delivery. Then she almost rang Steve. She stopped herself just in time whilst wondering what he was doing that evening that was so damned important.

‘We’re going to be
sooo
full, having four meals between the three of us,’ said Coco, stretching out on Juliet’s sofa later and looking like a
slim Siamese cat, albeit one who wore drop-crotch jeans and very expensive shirts.

‘No, we won’t. I’ve invited Guy to make up the numbers,’ said Juliet.

‘Guy?’ echoed Floz.
Great
. She wondered if he would attempt to kiss her hello and if so, where his lips would land on her face. Then she wondered why she was wondering that
and tried to shake the thought from her head.

‘Here’s to my date with the gorgeous Piers Winstanley-Black,’ announced Juliet, toasting herself with a glass of white Zinfandel.

‘Have you told Steve yet?’ Floz asked.

‘Nope,’ said Juliet, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. ‘I was going to tell him when he came around tonight, but he texted and said he’s busy.’

Steve had parked outside Little Derek’s gym in the nearly new Mercedes sports car that he’d hired for a week at a cut-price rate to entice him to buy. He had felt
the need to drive thoughts of Juliet and Piers Baldy-Black out of his brain by pressing on some punishing weights. It hadn’t worked that well because they were still in there, smiling at each
other over a posh dinner-table.

However, something was obviously on his side because just as he zapped open the door lock, Chianti’s natty little Spitfire pulled around the corner and parked behind his bumper. He saw her
mouth round in a wow through the windscreen. Bloody hell. Talk about perfect timing.

‘Hello, Chianti,’ said Steve, watching her long slim legs unfolding from her car. ‘How are you?’

‘Hello, Steve,’ said Chianti. For once she said his name with a trace of interest. ‘This your new car?’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Steve, with a casualness that he had often practised in the mirror in case this day ever came. ‘Just picked it up.’

Chianti looked at Steve in context. He was good-looking with a great body, she had always thought so, but not judged him rich enough to afford a car like that. Steve Feast suddenly became
significant. And there was no one else on the horizon at the moment.

‘Is it comfortable?’ she asked, touching the car bonnet with her long, manicured fingers.

‘Very,’ said Steve.

‘So where are you taking me out in it on Friday?’ said Chianti, flicking her long blonde hair flirtatiously and biting on her lip.

‘Taking you out F . . . Friday?’ Blimey, thought Steve. That was easier than he had imagined. ‘Erm. What about we go for a Thai meal at the Setting Sun? It’s nice
there.’

‘Okay. I’ll meet you here at seven p.m.’