Erin was going to resign. She had chosen to wear her chicest power-dressing outfit: a black crêpe Donna Karan dress with three-quarter sleeves, and some Gucci heels she had bought herself with her first pay-packet. Looking into the mirror, pulling back her strawberry-blonde locks into a severe ponytail, she wondered if she didn’t look too much as if she was on her way to a funeral, before deciding such a formal, sombre look was probably appropriate. It was the end of something – the end of her new life. In eight months, her life had been transformed from unemployed misery, living in her grandmother’s cottage in Port Merryn and dreaming of one day becoming an author, to a jet-setting PA with a fast car, faster lifestyle and a chic apartment. She was going to miss them all, but the phone call from Ed Davies had changed everything. Eight months ago, she had zero options; now she had too many. Now, she had the power to make positive decisions about her life, but she wasn’t entirely sure if she preferred it to the narrow options of her life in Cornwall.
Erin had spent the entire night tossing and turning, knowing that the decision she was about to make would
change her life forever. It was an embarrassment of riches, really. To stay as executive assistant to Adam Gold, sexy billionaire, or finally to have the chance to make her dream come true and become a novelist. This time last year, she knew the decision would have been instantaneous, obvious: write that book, get it published and see it on the shelves. That would have been a lifetime’s ambition fulfilled. But, somewhere along the road her dream, once so clear in her mind, had become murky and opaque. An author’s life was a lonely life and forty thousand pounds wasn’t going to buy the trips on the private jets and the blue Audi parked outside her fantastic flat. Then there was Belvedere Road, which she hardly dared think about. Planning permission still hadn’t come through and, if she didn’t get it developed and let within the next couple of months, she was going to have to sell the building: she could only go on haemorrhaging mortgage payments for so long. In so many ways, staying with Adam would be the easy, safe option. But she had to make a decision and the decision she had chosen was the decision she knew her mum, her dad and Jilly would have chosen for her. She would choose her
own life
. Not somebody else’s. She picked up her clutch bag and made for the door. It was time to stand on her own two feet.
Eight hours later, she still hadn’t told Adam. It had been a busy day; he had been tied up in meetings all morning, there had been an investors lunch, followed by his session down at the Bath & Racquet Club and, before she knew it, 5 p.m. had rushed around. And the truth was, Erin was terrified about resigning. Erin had only ‘left’ one job before, a waitressing job when she’d been a student at Exeter; she’d been so scared of the slimy manager, Keith, she had decided that the simplest solution was to stop going in to work. She’d spent the entire duration of her time left in Exeter avoiding
the restaurant, and Keith had left two messages on her answer machine accusing her of stealing her uniform. She had briefly considered using the same tactics at Midas, but had quickly decided that the grown-up thing to do was to resign face to face. The prospect, however, was making her sick.
‘Erin can you just step through one minute, please?’ called Adam from his office. ‘And can you get me a drink?’
Right. This was it.
She was determined she was going to do it. It was tempting to wait until the end of the week, of course – surely Friday afternoon with its natural finality was the best time to hand your notice in? – but Ed Davies had called her three times demanding to know what to say to Millennium Publishing. As she was on a month’s notice at Midas, it meant she had to move immediately. She grabbed a cup of black coffee and walked through. The sky outside his office window was a lacklustre gunmetal grey.
‘Sit down, Erin,’ said Adam. ‘Why don’t you get yourself a coffee?’
Erin looked puzzled. It was the first time ever he had asked her to sit and share a drink.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I’ve just had one.’
Adam rested his elbows on the desk. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to show his firm, tanned forearms as he sipped the coffee.
‘So, did you enjoy the party?’
It was the first opportunity they’d had to discuss it all day. Erin couldn’t exactly tell him the truth about Karin and her father and how miserable it had made her, so she chose to be vague. ‘It was a wonderful party,’ she smiled.
‘Well, I think you did a brilliant job helping us to pull it all together like that in such a short space of time.’
‘That’s what I’m here for,’ replied Erin, wondering if maybe she should leave
the deed
until first thing tomorrow morning.
‘And, actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ said Adam. Erin’s attention snapped back to the man sitting in front of her.
‘I stopped off at the Lanesborough to see my mother on the way back from the airport today.’
She quickly averted her eyes away from him. Damn, damn, damn, she thought, suddenly realizing how stupid she had been to divulge her dreams, the details of her novel and, worst of all, how she had an agent to Julia Gold. No matter how kind and supportive Julia had seemed, there was no getting away from the fact that her loyalties were obviously going to be to her son. It was true Erin wanted to leave the Midas Corporation, but the last thing she wanted to do was to get fired.
‘Actually, Adam, there’s been something I wanted to talk to you about as well.’
He held up an imperious finger. ‘Hear me out, Erin. My mother mentioned she’d been speaking to you – she seems quite a fan actually – and she told me you’d begun your writing again. Apparently she’s read your manuscript. Says it’s fantastic.’
‘Adam, don’t take that the wrong way. I haven’t been doing it in work time, but it’s been going well and—’
The finger went up again. ‘You don’t have to make excuses for challenging yourself. How do you think I’ve made so much money? I get bored with one thing and it’s onwards and upwards to the next. You sitting down and writing your novel just makes me remember what I thought when I first met you.’
‘Adam, I—’
‘That you’re made for bigger and brighter things than being my assistant.’
Erin was desperate to make him stop, but by now she was too intrigued by what he had to say.
‘I’ll cut to the chase; there is a fabulous opportunity for you in Moscow. We’re talking a lot more responsibility, I want to capitalize on all this entrepreneurial spirit you have and, obviously, we’re also talking a lot more money, your own flat, choice of car and so on. Alternatively, if you want to stay in London because of your little development in Crystal Palace, I think we can rustle up something for you in marketing. But either way, I think it’s time we stepped up a gear.’ Adam Gold had a way of talking to people as if everything he said made the most perfect sense in the world.
‘But Adam, I came in here to tell you—’
‘Erin,’ he interrupted, ‘I don’t expect you to answer me immediately. I hope you’ve enjoyed being my assistant and, if you’re enjoying it too much and you think I’ve jumped the gun, then just tell me. But at least think about it overnight and tell me tomorrow.’
Erin just sat there, open-mouthed. She couldn’t say a word. Adam Gold was too insistent, too persuasive to turn down, at least at that moment.
‘Now then,’ he said, continuing with his air of authority. ‘I need you to do something for me.’
‘Umm, okay, what is it?’ asked Erin, busy thinking how she was going to stall Ed Davies and Millennium Publishing.
‘I need you to check on Karin.’
Erin groaned inwardly. If she could just give in her notice right at this second, she need never see that bitch again.
Adam went on. ‘I haven’t spoken to her since Monday morning when we were all at the villa.’ He looked up, the hint of a wry smile on his lips. ‘I know it might not seem like a long time, but she usually rings. I’ve tried her a few times and there isn’t any reply on her mobile or at home.’
‘You want me to go round?’ asked Erin. Adam nodded and fished in his pocket, pulling out a tan crocodile-skin key-holder and unclipping a small gold key.
‘I’m sure everything is fine,’ he said, passing it over. ‘We had a bit of a …’ he stopped, not knowing how much information to offer. ‘We had a little disagreement over the weekend, so she’s probably just in a mood. But can you just go round and check she’s okay and get her to ring me? Thanks, Erin. I really couldn’t manage without you.’
Erin stood up and nodded.
If only that were true
, she thought.
Tap, tap, tap, tap. Summer rolled over, not sure if she was dreaming or awake. She opened her eyes and glanced at her alarm clock. Midday. Tap, tap, tap. She could hear it again. She pushed back the duvet and sat up on her elbows. It was coming from the front door – a sharp insistent rapping of the letter box. Molly. It had to be.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ said Molly, charging through the door. Summer had to rub her bleary eyes and do a double take. Molly was wearing no make-up, her skin looked tired and lined, and she was in a pair of skin-tight navy yoga pants and white T-shirt, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother looking anything but immaculate.
‘Summer, did you hear me?’ she snapped, ‘I’ve been frantic about you.’
‘I’ve been in Milan,’ said Summer. ‘You knew very well where I was.’
‘But I thought your plane got back last night. I’ve been sick with worry’.
Summer raised an eyebrow. ‘I did get back last night, but it was late. You don’t usually send out the search party.’
Molly tried to look hurt. ‘I thought your plane got in at seven o’clock. I knocked for you a couple of times but there was no reply. I didn’t know what to think,’ she said. There was a pause. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’ Sun was
blasting in through the flat’s French windows, bouncing off the pale cream walls, lighting the room up with a seaside brightness. It didn’t do Molly any favours, thought Summer. She looked as if she hadn’t slept a wink. Perhaps she really was worried.
‘No, no. Nothing wrong. My plane was delayed, that’s all,’ said Summer yawning.
‘It was a good party though, wasn’t it?’ said Molly eagerly. ‘I must phone to thank Karin. You haven’t spoken to her yet, have you?’
Her speech was quick and somehow forced and for a minute Summer thought her mum was high. ‘No. I’ve not spoken to Karin since.’
Molly began picking at a bowl of grapes on the coffee table. ‘Well, I thought you might have met up with Adam in Milan. Isn’t that where he went after the party?’
‘He’s been in Paris,’ said Summer, lowering her eyes.
‘So you did speak to him at the party?’
There was a silence. A charged quiet like the lull before a thunderstorm. Summer walked out of the room into the kitchen, where she got a bottle of mineral water out of the fridge. Molly had got up to follow her, but Summer returned to the lounge and flung open the French windows, feeling the warm morning sun on her face.
‘What is this? Twenty questions? Yes, I spoke to him.’ She still had her back to Molly and was staring intently at a little apple tree in the garden, its branches dotted with small, stunted fruit.
‘Well, what happened? You looked gorgeous on Saturday. I couldn’t believe it when you just left the party on Sunday when you could have taken the boat out with him that afternoon and spent some time together and—’
‘Mother, I’m pregnant.’
Summer shut the French doors again and turned back
inside. Molly’s eyes widened towards an expression that hovered between horror and joy.
‘Adam’s?’ she asked.
Summer nodded and the tears began to roll down her face.
‘Well, have you told him?’ Molly walked over and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘You’ve got to tell him, honey. This makes all the difference. A baby makes a difference.’
‘It makes no difference to him,’ said Summer flatly. ‘He said he loves Karin. He said he wouldn’t leave her.’
‘Karin doesn’t matter now, honey,’ Molly said, stroking her hair. ‘Things change. This has changed things. You’re beautiful. He’ll want you. And now you’re having a baby.’
‘Yes. It’s a baby. It’s something growing inside me, a little person. Not a meal ticket.’
Molly looked at her daughter and saw that her eyes were hollow, her mouth set in a fixed, defeated expression.
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Molly blustered. ‘But be practical, darling. You two belong together. If this baby can make that happen then that’s wonderful, and if it can’t, then we can get a lawyer and make it worth your while.’
Summer pushed away from Molly angrily. ‘Why is it all about the bloody money for you?’ she shouted. ‘Is that all really you care about? Do you give a shit that I might love Adam? Do you care that I want him to be with me because he loves me, not because I missed a pill and got pregnant and won’t get rid of it?’
‘I just want what’s best for you, Summer,’ said Molly, her voice cracked and wobbly.
‘You want what’s best for
you
,’ said Summer with uncharacteristic force. ‘You chase money; you crave it. You think that money will be the answer to all your problems, but it’s not and look where it’s got us.’
‘What do you mean, “Look where it’s got us”?’