Page 44 of His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice
‘The flowers, Matt,’ she repeated, and he turned round and looked at her, simultaneously dumping the empty glass on the counter. ‘And don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about. Glo called.’
‘Glo? Glo who?’
Of course he wouldn’t recognise the name, Violet thought bitterly. He’d always left the nuts and bolts of saying goodbye to her to sort out, while he merrily galloped towards another empty affair.
‘Glo from the flower shop in Knightsbridge. You know the one. She called to say that you’d started an order for yourusualbut had failed to complete it so she didn’t know what you wanted to do with the flowers. If you tell me who the poor girl is, then I can call her back and arrange for them to be sent to her.’
Violet barely needed to see the expression on his face because the absolute stillness of his body was enough to give the game away. He knew what she was talking about and he wasn’t going to try to pretend otherwise.
‘The flowers,’ he said. ‘It never occurred to me that the woman would call you.’
‘Why would that be? I’ve been dealing with her for...for years. Together, we’ve been taking care of all those broken hearts you’ve left behind, sending flowers as though a bunch of blooms can patch them up and make them good.’
‘There’s no need for drama, Violet.’
‘This is not what I signed up for.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Matt, that must be the most well-worn statement any man can make when he’s made a mistake and been caught red-handed.’ She was managing to keep her voice level, but it came at a cost. Her heart was splintering into a thousand pieces. She looked away and shuffled towards the sofa because her legs felt wobbly.
‘Violet...’
His voice was soft right behind her but, when he placed his hand on her arm, she angrily shook it off without looking at him.
‘I don’t want this for myself, Matt. I don’t wantyou.’ She sank onto the sofa and didn’t look at him as he hovered in front of her, the very essence of a guilt-ridden male, she thought, raking his fingers through his hair, his fabulous eyes not quite able to meet hers... All that was missing was the stammer.
Anger, jealousy, searing hurt all fused inside her and she briefly closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. When she opened them, he was still there, towering over her, arms folded.
‘I’m telling you that you don’t understand.’
‘And I’m tellingyouthat I do! I understand because I know you, because I’ve been down this road before, don’t forget! I’ve arranged the flowers and sent them on your behalf, except this time you were going to send the flowers yourself until you got wrapped up with your deal and forgot.’
‘I think I need something a little stronger to drink than water,’ he ground out, turning round and heading to the kitchen, to reappear within minutes with a glass of whisky that he downed in one ferocious gulp.
‘Please don’t try to talk your way out of this, Matt,’ she said when he pulled a chair towards her and sat down. ‘I deserve the truth and then... Well, we can take things from there, but first and foremost we’ll have to agree that this experiment has failed.’
‘Please, Violet...’
‘Please what? Please try to listen to whatever version of the truth you decide to come out with to placate me? Please accept a situation where I share you with other women? Absolutely not!’
‘Do you honestly think that I’m that sort of person?’ he demanded, and when she would have turned away he leant forward and tilted her face to his so that she couldn’t avoid his searching gaze.
‘I didn’t,’ she said truthfully. ‘But, then again, as you once pointed out, we’re not married, are we? Some people aren’t meant to settle down. They’re rolling stones. You’re one of those people, Matt, and if I was lulled into thinking otherwise then I’m wide awake now.’
‘I can explain...’
Violet looked at him stonily. She had always had her pride, and she had a lot of experience when it came to concealing her emotions from him. She had fancied him from a distance, but he would never have guessed in a million years as she made those phone calls to the flower shop and arranged theatre tickets and opera seats for the women who’d flitted in and out of his life.
She wanted to burst into tears, but there was no way she was going to do that. Every bone in her body hurt from the effort of keeping it together.
‘Please don’t bother.’
‘Okay, I admit that, yes, I ordered the flowers.’
‘I told you that I don’t want to hear!’ The last thing she needed was an agonised confession of infidelity. He would use his words carefully, but the message would remain the same and it was a message she didn’t want to hear. There was only so much reality any person could take in one go.
‘But then I chickened out from actually having them delivered.’
