Read Love and Liability (Dating Mr Darcy - Book 2) Online
Authors: Katie Oliver
She hesitated. Will was kind, and she liked his company. God, it would be beyond lovely to have a shoulder to cry on. But the sting of Holly’s recent betrayal gave her pause.
It was bad enough that Holly knew her secret, and now, thanks to her, Valery knew it as well. At this rate, soon all of London would know about Amanda.
Besides, there was no use getting too involved with Will. Soon enough, he’d get fed up with the constant phone calls and interruptions, annoyed that she couldn’t go off on holiday, or shopping, or even to bed, without her mobile at hand; and eventually, he’d leave. Just like all the others.
And she’d be fine. Just as she always was.
After all, Sasha reminded herself grimly, she’d relied on herself most all of her life. She’d raised herself and her sister. She could survive the end of another relationship.
It was just that Will was the first man in a very long time that she’d trusted. She could relax around him and be her true self, instead of the demanding, haute-couture harpy she morphed into every day at work. And it felt nice, to let down the walls and ramparts she’d built, even for a bit.
“It’s nothing,” she said with a shrug, “just the usual family drama. Thanks, really. But I’m fine.”
Will made no comment. Although her words were convincing, the ghost of unhappiness on her face said otherwise. As he leaned forward to kiss her his hands came up to bracket her face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he told her, and kissed her again. “I’ll drop off the photos for Holly’s article.”
“Okay. Thanks. It’s probably best if we keep things just between us for the moment,” she added. “I don’t want to stir up any more office gossip than I already have.” She turned to go.
He grabbed his rucksack and followed her to the door. “You know, you don’t have to try so hard, Sasha. It’s okay if you mess up once in a while, show that you’re human.”
“Maybe it’s okay for some people,” she replied shortly as she reached for the doorknob, “but I haven’t the luxury of messing up. I’ve a staff to oversee, and people who depend on me to get things done. There is no one else.”
“There’s always someone else.”
Her eyes met his. “Not always.” Her words were flat. “I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like when someone depends on you — and you alone — to be there for them. There’s no skiving off, no bank holiday, no dodging responsibility — because there
is
no one else.”
“Sasha,” he reminded her gently, “you can’t take care of someone else if you don’t take care of yourself first.”
Her throat tightened and she felt the incipient threat of tears, but she blinked them back.
“Easier said than done,” Sasha said abruptly. “I have to go,” and she pushed past him and fled out of the door.
“Will never answered me,” Kate complained that evening when she got home.
Holly, applying a second coat of mascara at her dressing table, glanced up. “Never answered you about what?”
“I asked him straight out if he’s seeing Sasha or not.”
“And? What did he say?”
“That it’s really none of my business.” Kate came in and sank down onto Holly’s bed with a morose expression.
“He’s right,” Holly pointed out as she stood up and grabbed her clutch. “It isn’t.” She made her way towards the door. “That should tell you that yes, he’s seeing Sasha. God, poor man! He’s far too nice for the likes of her.”
“Why would he do that?” Kate wondered. “Why would he take on someone like her, when he could’ve had me?”
“Oh, come on, Kate — you know as well as me, when it comes to you or Sasha, there’s no comparison. Or maybe he just doesn’t like gingers.” She laughed and dodged the pillow her flatmate hurled at her and paused to take a last, critical look at herself in the hall mirror.
“Hold up,” Kate called after her as she got up. “Where are you off to tonight? Going out with Alex?”
“Sort of. He’s making us dinner.” Holly opened the door and paused. “We’re having steak — salad for me…and
no
interruptions this time,” she added pointedly. “With any luck, I won’t be back tonight. Bye, Kate. Enjoy the peace and quiet. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” Kate echoed. “Lucky cow!” she called out, just before the door slammed shut.
“That was
so
good, Alex,” Holly said as she pushed aside her plate. “But I can’t eat another bite.”
He eyed her half-eaten egg and chips as he stood to remove their plates. “But you didn’t finish. I even used fresh-ground pepper, like they do in the restaurants.”
“And it looked as perfect as it tasted, truly. But you gave me enough to feed a family of four,” she told him. “Let me help you clear up.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got it.” He picked up their plates and leaned forward to kiss her. “How’s the part-time job working out?”
“Fine, so far, except I was late to work this morning. I slept through the alarm. Luckily Kate covered for me. And Sasha’s been too preoccupied lately to notice.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“You know…just Sasha being Sasha,” she said, and pushed her chair back. She poured them each a glass of wine and made her way into the sitting room. “Want to watch telly?” she called out. Alex was still banging around in the kitchen.
“Sure, if you like,” he answered. “See what’s on.”
Holly flicked on the television to BBC 2. “
Strictly Come Dancing
,” she informed him, “or
The Hairy Bikers
.”
“I vote for
Strictly
,” Alex said as he sat on the sofa and patted the space beside him. “It doesn’t matter, at any rate.”
“Oh? And why’s that?” Holly asked as she sat beside him.
“Because,” he murmured as he slid his arm around her and pulled her close, “we both know that whatever’s on, we won’t watch it, anyway.”
And as she twined her arms around his neck and lost herself in Alex’s very lengthy, very delicious kiss, Holly realized he was absolutely right.
Afterwards, Holly sat up in Alex’s bed and switched on the
News at Ten
. Angry homeowners in Chipping Barnet filled the screen, protesting the Conservative candidate’s proposal to reopen the homeless shelter. Alarmed, Holly nudged Alex and turned the volume up.
“Wha—?” he mumbled. He’d just drifted off to sleep.
“Wake up. You’re the top story on the
News at Ten
!”
He blinked and sat up. “I am?”
“When the shelter was here,” a young mother was saying, “crime in our neighborhood skyrocketed. Our houses were broken into on a regular basis, and panhandlers were everywhere.”
“One bloke took a whiz in my rose bushes every morning,” another man said indignantly.
“Not the sort of thing you want your children to see,” an older woman added.
“What do you think of Mr Barrington’s campaign to reopen the Chipping Barnet homeless shelter?” the reporter asked them.
“I’ll tell you what I think! It’s bollocks,” a black man stated unequivocally. “Let him open a homeless shelter on his
own
bloody street, that’s what I say.”
“Shit.” Alex bounded out of bed and snapped off the television. “Leave it to a bunch of NIMBYs to derail my campaign before it’s even begun…”
“NIMBYs?” she echoed, puzzled.
“’Not in my backyard,’” he told her grimly. “They’re the people who say they want change, who say they want social programmes and progress and homeless shelters — as long as the shelters and dole lines are located somewhere else.”
“Well, you’ll just have to stand up to them.”
“Easier said than done,” he retorted. “Publicity like this could cost me votes, Holly.”
She stared at him in dismay. “But it’s only a handful of people, after all. It’s just a — a tempest in a teapot.”
Before Alex could respond, his mobile rang, and he dived to pick it up. “Alex here,” he said cautiously. “Hello, Camilla. No, it’s okay, thanks for calling… Yes, I’ve just seen it.”
As Holly began to get dressed Alex clapped the phone to his ear and went into the lounge.
“What do you suggest I do? What
can
I do?” he was saying.
Quietly, Holly picked up her shoes and handbag and padded into the lounge after him. “I’m leaving,” she mouthed, and pointed to the door. “See you later.”
He nodded and gave her a distracted peck on the cheek. “Goodbye, darling,” he murmured. “I’ll call you. What? No, sorry, Camilla, I was just saying goodbye to Holly. Now, about our plan of attack for the Chipping Barnet problem…”
“My article’s just been published!”
Holly rushed into the office just before nine the next morning, brandishing the latest copy of
BritTEEN
above her head as she flung herself in her chair and spun around.
“Ooh, congrats!” Kate squealed as she stuck her head around her cubicle. “Let’s see.”
Holly opened the magazine and flipped excitedly through the pages. “Here it is!” she cried. “Here’s my article—”
Her face fell as she stared down at the two-page, four-colour spread on her lap. By rights she ought to be on top of the world. This was her first major published piece with her own byline. This was a very Big Deal, the first step on her way to a real career as a magazine writer.
But as she took in the enormity of what she saw Holly began to tremble. How had a mistake like this happened again?
She’d promised Zoe faithfully that the article would run with her face out of focus. After looking at the dozens of shots Will had taken, she’d chosen an image of Zoe, standing in the squat where they’d slept, a broken windowpane behind her reflecting the candles flickering in bits of tinfoil.
The instant she saw it, Holly knew it was an amazing photograph. It had a bleak, visceral beauty.
So then how had a photo of Zoe — Doc Martens, nose stud, boot-black, sticky-up mohawk hair and all, lounging on her customary bench — been published alongside the article instead? Worse still, her face wasn’t pixelated or out of focus; it was plainly visible.
How could she possibly explain this to Zoe?
And more importantly — how could she explain it to Valery? ‘Sorry’ just wouldn’t cut it; nor would ‘I swear I didn’t do it.’ She’d be sacked this time, no question.
“What’s wrong? You look like a cat’s bum.” Kate came over and handed her a cup of coffee. “What’s happened?”
“My article’s been published,” Holly said dully.
“That’s great! Why the long face, then?”
“Great?” With a grim expression Holly held up the two-page spread. “I finally get my first byline, and look what happens.”
Kate peered at the photograph of the homeless girl with dawning understanding. “That’s Zoe! But… I thought she didn’t want her face shown?”
“She didn’t. She made it very clear she wanted any shots Will took of her face to be pixelated.” Holly lowered the magazine and clutched her head in both hands. “I don’t know how this happened!” she wailed. “I don’t even know where this picture
came
from.”
“Well, you’d better find some answers fast,” Sasha pronounced coldly as she appeared in front of Holly, “because Valery wants to see both of us in her office. Now.”
“You’ve let me down, Holly.” Valery Beauchamp regarded the girl in the black-and-white bohemian print dress standing miserably before her desk. “But more importantly, you’ve let the magazine down.”
Holly said nothing. The thickness in her throat made words impossible.
“The first time this happened,” Valery went on, “when Henry Barrington’s off-the-record interview comment was published, he didn’t file suit — which was lucky for us. But this—” she touched a perfectly manicured finger accusingly to the article’s page “—lays us wide open to a lawsuit, should Zoe decide to file one. And we haven’t a leg to stand on.”
“But I turned the article in with a different photo,” Holly protested, “and her face was pixelated, just like she asked. I swear it—”
“And I,” Valery cut in icily, “rearranged the mock-up issue myself to include your piece. The photograph of the girl that we published,” she added succinctly as she leaned forward, “is the one that was turned in to me with your text. Unless you’re calling me a liar, Miss James?”
Holly felt the hot salt rush of tears threatening, but fought them back. She refused to cry in front of Valery.
This had to be Sasha’s doing, she knew it, but she couldn’t tell Valery that. She had no proof, for one thing. For another, Holly knew if she opened her mouth, she’d start sobbing and not be able to stop.
She had too much pride to cry and beg for her job. No matter how much her job meant to her.
It was plainly too late for that now, at any rate.
“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in you, Holly.” Valery leaned back in her giant leather chair. “Your article is excellent, your future is promising. Or it was. But this mistake shows an astonishing lack of professionalism that I simply can’t ignore. I have no choice but to let you go.”
“This isn’t fair!” Holly said hotly. “I worked really hard on that article. Really hard! It wasn’t easy to persuade Zoe to do it. Will took the photos, and he didn’t take a
single one
of Zoe on that bench! He promised her he wouldn’t show her face. And he didn’t! I’ll go and get him right now—”
“It’s too late for that. HR will sort out your pay packet and severance information.” Valery’s expression was set, her mind plainly made up.
There were to be no second chances, Holly realized. It was done. She’d saved Sasha’s job, only to be given the boot herself.
A single, hot tear escaped and tracked down her face.
Valery stood up; the interview was over. “You can stay here and collect yourself before you leave, if you like. I have a board meeting to attend. Goodbye, Holly, and…good luck.”
Holly sank dully into one of the chairs in front of the editor’s desk as Valery left. She couldn’t believe it. After all her hard work, after weeks of giddily anticipating her first published magazine article, her moment of triumph was ruined.
Who could have done this to her?
She thought of Kate, but immediately discarded the idea. Kate’s surprise when she saw the full-bleed photo of Zoe had been genuine. She’d been as gobsmacked as Holly.