Read Love and Liability (Dating Mr Darcy - Book 2) Online
Authors: Katie Oliver
“All right,” Alex grumbled, and threw back the covers. “Let me take a shower and get some clothes together.”
“Right! I’ll send my driver to pick you up.”
“Dominic,” Alex asked curiously, “where are you?” It sounded as if the sixteen cats, having failed their audition, were now being neutered without anaesthetics.
“I’m on the plane. Could you lot keep it down?” he bellowed, nearly splitting Alex’s eardrum. “That’s the band, practising, like. We got a benefit on Tuesday. Save the Something-or-Other. Don’t remember, to tell you the truth. It’s all the same to me. See you in a bit, mate.”
And with another belch, Dominic rang off.
A hand shook Holly gently awake. With a start, she sat up on the sofa, blinking as Jamie switched on a lamp.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
“It’s half past eleven.” Jamie tossed his keys down on the coffee table and yawned.
“Did you and Kate have a good time at the cheese festival?”
“We did. I bought some Stilton, and a couple of bottles of wine. My car reeks of Pont l’Évêque.” He glanced at her curiously. “So did you spend the day with Alex?”
“No.” She didn’t tell him that although she’d called Alex — several times — she’d got no answer at his flat or on his mobile. She’d left two messages. “So…what did you and Kate talk about all day?”
“She asked if I minded sharing the flat with you. I told her I had no complaints, that the customers love you, and that things are working out very well.” He paused. “We had a very nice day together.”
Holly picked up one of the throw pillows next to her and held it against her stomach. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad. So,” she ventured, “did you two, you and Kate, you know…?”
Jamie sat in the armchair across from her and stretched his legs out. He regarded her steadily. “Did we what?”
So he wasn’t going to make this easy, was he?
“Did you, erm…go back to Kate’s flat?”
“And what if we did?”
“Nothing. I just wondered, that’s all.”
“Holly, I’m a grown man, and single, too, the last time I checked. I’m allowed to date, and to have sex on occasion if I like. And you’re with Alex. What’s it to you if I see Kate?”
“It couldn’t matter less,” Holly retorted. “I’d just hate to see her make mincemeat of your heart.”
“Well—” he stood up “—you can rest easy. Kate’s very attractive, and I like her; but she’s not really my type.”
“So…are you telling me that nothing happened?”
“I’m telling you,” he said firmly as he skinned off his shirt and threw it aside, “that whatever happened — or didn’t — is none of your bloody business. Now get your arse off that sofa so I can get some sleep. Four o’clock comes early.”
“I need fresh story ideas,” Sasha Davis announced on Monday morning as she took her seat and swept her gaze around the conference table. “What have you got for me this week?”
“Sex trafficking,” Mark suggested.
Sasha raised her brow. “I’m listening. Elaborate.”
“Well,” he began, “a lot of teen girls disappear in the UK every year. Most are runaways. When they arrive in London, they don’t know anyone, and they have no money. There are men — pimps — who hang around bus stations and tube stops, just looking for girls like that. They offer them a place to stay, a meal, a shoulder to cry on. They become the girl’s only friend, gain her trust. Then they tell her she’s got to earn her keep.”
“Prostitute herself, you mean.”
“Exactly. And if she refuses, he beats her until she sees reason.”
Sasha picked up her pen and jotted a note in her diary. ”Let’s do it. It’s hard-hitting and relevant. Get me a draft first thing Monday.” She glanced around the table. “What else have we got?”
“What about a follow-up story,” Zoe offered tentatively, “to Holly’s homeless article?”
“You mean another piece about teens living on the streets? We’d be repeating ourselves,” Sasha said dismissively.
“No. I thought we might follow up on the kids who manage to get off the streets,” Zoe said, growing bolder. “Some get jobs, like me. But a lot don’t. We could profile three homeless teens and see what happened to them. Did the system fail them? Or not?”
Silence greeted Zoe’s suggestion. She bit her lip and toyed with her pen, certain they hated her idea. Suddenly she wished she’d kept her big gob shut.
“I like it.” Sasha leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “That’s an excellent idea, Zoe. I’m assigning you to write the story. Kate, help her draft an outline. Zoe, you’ll need to find three formerly homeless teens willing to be interviewed.”
Padma rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we just change the name of the magazine to
StreetTEEN
!, or
BritTEEN: Homeless Edition
?”
“What ideas have you got?” Kate accused. “You haven’t contributed one thing yet.”
“Nor have you.”
Sasha’s mobile vibrated.
Kate saw her glance down at the screen, and a look of what could only be called panic flickered over her face. “Sasha? Are you all right?”
Sasha thrust her chair back and stood up. “I’m fine. Help Zoe draft her article, Kate. We’ll all meet again tomorrow morning. Bring me more ideas.”
She grabbed her mobile and Smythson organizer and strode back to her office and shut the door. The message light on her desk phone blinked an angry red as she sat down. With a sinking feeling, Sasha jabbed at the button, already knowing what the messages would say.
“This is Friendly Payday Loans. You owe five hundred pounds and we expect repayment today.”
With a shaking hand, she deleted the message and listened to the next. “This is Elisabeth Smyth with Barclays Bank. You’ve accrued a serious overdraft to your account, Ms Davis. We must settle this matter. Please call me immediately.”
Oh, God
. Sasha leaned back in her chair, her stomach in knots. This had all started because of Amanda, who had an episode in the fishmonger’s one afternoon, causing two hundred pounds’ worth of damage. With her credit cards already maxed out, Sasha had needed to borrow the money from a payday lender.
The twenty-five-pound interest hadn’t seemed like much, and the money had appeared in her account ten minutes later. Easy peasy. But when she hadn’t been able to repay the loan two weeks later, the interest had quickly spiralled. Friendly Payday Loans had raided her bank account to get their money…leaving her with a serious overdraft and no idea how she’d pay this month’s rent…
Not to mention the one hundred and fifty pounds she owed to Amanda’s caregiver this week.
But at least her sister had adjusted to her new in-patient facility. There’d been no more attempts to kill herself.
Her phone rang. Sasha leaned forward and eyed the screen with dread. She grabbed the handset. “Yes, Valery.”
“I haven’t received this week’s story ideas from you yet.”
“Sorry. I’ll have them to you in five minutes.”
“See that you do. The deadline was ten — which you’ve missed. I know you have a lot to deal with at the moment, but if you expect me to promote you, you need to improve your game.” Valery paused. “You’re skating on very thin ice, Sasha.” The line went dead.
Sasha stood and flung her door open. “Kate! Get those bloody story ideas typed up and sent to me NOW!”
So saying, she stalked past Kate’s desk. Not for the first time, Sasha wondered if Valery’s sacking of Holly James — who was unquestionably annoying, but never short on story ideas — wasn’t a very big mistake.
If she cashed in the birthday cheques from her parents, Auntie Gwen, and Hannah, Holly calculated as she scribbled figures on a piece of paper, she could just about cover her share of the month’s rent. And her tips would cover groceries.
That left exactly two pounds fifty for all her other expenses.
She threw her pen down on the bar. “Can I have some more hours this week, Jamie?” she pleaded. “I need the money.”
“Sure.” He looked up from the inventory list he was writing. “You can pick up a couple of dinner shifts if you like. Sergei won’t be too happy, but he’ll get over it.”
“He’s counting his pennies, same as me.” Holly sighed.
“Look, if money’s tight, you needn’t worry about your share of the rent. I’ve got it covered.”
“Thanks, Jamie, that’s sweet — but I agreed to pay half when I moved in, and I will. Besides, I don’t want to owe you masses of money when I move out.”
He paused. “Oh? And are you planning on moving out soon?”
She thought about Alex, and his offer. “No,” she answered, and stood to begin setting her lunch tables up. “You’re not getting rid of me
that
easily.”
“Holly, you know you can stay as long as you like.” Jamie leaned forward and rested his elbows on the bar. “I know I’m not much of a flatmate. I’m not round half the time, and when I am I’m a miserable git — but I like having you here.”
It wouldn’t be the same when Holly left, he realized suddenly. He’d got used to seeing her stuff scattered everywhere — fashion magazines and takeaway menus, mostly, or, now and then, a bra flung over the shower rail — and he’d even got used to her slamming the kitchen door when she came in.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I like your cooking far too much to leave just yet. Besides, Alex can’t cook.”
Jamie straightened. “No surprise there,” he snorted. “He probably never set foot in a kitchen, the ponce.”
And before Holly could respond, he turned and stalked off.
Zoe returned to her cubicle and got to work on her article. By the time she’d made a list of possible interview candidates and drafted some notes, it was nearly lunchtime.
“Kate,” she called out as she shoved her chair back, “I’m going out for a sandwich. Want anything?”
“Yes. A proposal from Prince Harry and the new Fendi handbag,” Kate said without hesitation.
“Sorry, but you’ll have to settle for turkey on wholemeal from Pret.”
Kate sighed. “I’ll take it.”
Ten minutes later, Zoe emerged onto the street and headed for Pret. It was one of those rare summer days in London — sunny, breezy, mild — and everyone was outside, enjoying it.
“Zoe!”
Startled, she looked up to see Sharon hurrying towards her. “Sha! Where’ve you been? I waited for you last week, and I left you a message—”
“Never mind that,” Sharon said, her voice low. She took Zoe by the arm and drew her around the corner and into a narrow alley between two office buildings. “There’s a man, and he’s lookin’ for Holly James. And for you,” she added.
“A man?” Zoe’s heartbeat accelerated.
“Yeah, a bloke in a fancy black car. I talked to him, thought we might do some business. I needed the money.” She frowned. “But I didn’t get in the car; had a bad feeling. A couple of prossies have gone missing lately.” Her eyes searched Zoe’s. “He ’ad a picture of you. The hair was different — but it was you, and no mistake.”
“What…what did you tell him?”
“I told him I’d never seen you before. I don’t think he believed me, though.”
Zoe’s thoughts raced. “Why’s he looking for Holly?”
“He saw your photo in
BritTEEN
. Holly wrote the article, so he thinks she knows where you are.” She bit her lower lip. “I was afraid he’d follow me, so I’ve been staying with a mate in Hackney. He’s that man, isn’t he?” she asked suddenly. “The one you told me about.”
“Yes. His name is Erik and he’s my mum’s boyfriend.” Zoe grabbed her arm. “Sha, be careful. I think he might have something to do with those missing girls. Stay well away from him.”
“Not a problem,” Sharon assured her. Her dark eyes were troubled. “You’re the one who needs to be careful. If he keeps showing your picture round, sooner or later someone on the street’s sure to recognize you. You’d best warn Holly, too.”
“She doesn’t work at
BritTEEN
any more. He won’t find her.”
“That’s just it.” Sharon glanced around her and lowered her voice. “He told me to find her, and tell him where she is — or he says he’ll put me in one of them Asian brothels.” Her eyes widened with fear. “He would, too. I asked around, and I found out Holly’s working at a restaurant. Gordon Scots. I told him where it was.”
“Oh, Sha — you shouldn’t have done that!” Zoe exclaimed, dismayed. “You’ve put Holly in real danger.”
“Well, better that than me ending up in some foreign whorehouse for the rest of my life,” she retorted. “I didn’t like to do it, but I was scared. Besides, Holly’s smart,” she added, and shrugged. “She’ll know how to deal with ’im.”
Zoe shook her head. “You don’t deal with a man like that, Sha. He’s dangerous. I need to warn her,” she said, more to herself than to Sharon. “But he’ll be watching the restaurant. We both need to stay well away from there.”
“Don’t worry,” Sharon assured her grimly. “I’m not going near the place. So — how’ll you warn Holly, then?”
“If I still have that card she gave me, I’ll call her. If not, I’ll just have to take a chance and go to the restaurant and tell her myself. Otherwise, Holly’s about to land herself in the middle of a right nasty mess.”
Zoe hurried down the office steps when she left work for the day. She glanced around uneasily, afraid she’d see the black Maserati. But the only vehicle idling nearby was a taxi. Relief brought a smile to her lips. She’d finally put a suggestion forward at the staff meeting, and got approval to write her own article…and she was bloody proud of herself. But her pride was tempered now with fear.
Erik was looking for her. He was smart, and determined. And he wouldn’t give up till he found her.
Her first order of business was to change her hair colour again, she decided — a dark red this time; blonde would never work over the black dye — and she’d style it differently, maybe a side parting and a shorter cut.
Out of habit, she glanced at the bench across the street, something she did every morning on her way to work, and in the evening when she left.
If not for Holly James
, a tiny, critical voice in her head reminded her,
you’d still be sitting on that bench, scrounging for your next meal
.
Zoe chewed her lip. She owed Holly. She deserved to know that Erik was looking for her. But she’d lost Holly’s card, so how was she to tell her—?