Page 29 of Wife After Wife
Well, almost anything. She looked up, in case Percy might be coming through that doorway right now, a few minutes early. He wasn’t.
Ana had met Percy North several months ago in Val d’Isère. It really had been love at first sight, something she’d always dismissed as poppycock. Her wary approach to life had been swept aside in the face of this lovely man with his shaggy blond hair and warm brown eyes. He’d walked in on her as she was cleaning the toilet (sucha romantic meeting—how many times had they described it to friends now?), she’d turned and looked into his eyes, and something profound had happened.
By the end of his two-week skiing holiday, they were engaged.
Percy was an account director at Soho ad agency Black, White, and Green, and shared a flat in Notting Hill with a couple of friends. They were planning to marry at the end of next year, which allowed plenty of time to settle into a new job, find somewhere to live, and organize the wedding.
Ana glanced out of the window and saw Percy coming along the cobbled street, his Burberry raincoat slung over his arm. He looked up, and she waved. His face broke into a grin and he waved back, hurrying the last few steps before disappearing below.
How had he known to look up at that moment? It was as if they had some telepathic thing going on. Ana had never felt as connected to anyone in her life.
She couldn’t wait for Percy to meet her family, especially Merry. It was the first time she hadn’t been nervous about introducing a boyfriend to her sister, because for once she was confident he had eyes only for her. That feeling of security was sublime.
On encountering Merry, most men dissolved into something pathetic and squidgy. There was something about her—she was like a sirenin a Greek myth. No doubt it was mostly to do with the generous bust, baby-blue eyes, and soft blond curls, but there was more to it—a mix of vulnerability and power, of innocence and knowledge.
Ironic, then, that Merry had chosen to marry the only man Ana knew who was completely immune to her charms, the gloriously gay Will McCarey.
Although she and Merry had always been close, Ana hadn’t understood that marriage at all. Will’s family was enormously rich, but surely Merry wouldn’t marry someone purely for money? Then, after a few hints from Merry, she’d got it. Her sister, with her upper-class background, top-notch education, and circle of influential friends, was the perfect corporate wife. And for her part, Merry had unfettered access to his family fortune, a nice job helping promote the McCarey brand, and, importantly, a husband with the blindest of eyes when someone caught her fancy.
Ana wondered if her prospective boss, Harry Rose, was included in that last category. The interview had been organized through his sister Megan, Ana’s friend and flatmate, but Merry had said something about “helping things along.” It had been the way she said it, with a knowing chuckle. And then Harry had turned up during the interview.
“Hi!” said Percy, making his way over. He kissed her cheek, and she caught a whiff of his expensive aftershave. “Top-up?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” She smiled up at him.
“You look lovely; I’d employ you. I’ll just get a pint, be right back.”
The buzz of conversation was increasing in volume as local workers filled the place up, relaxing and sharing the latest office gossip. Ana was looking forward to being part of it all, hopefully soon.
“There we go, packet of your favorite crisps. Don’t say I never treat you.” Percy sat down opposite her. “So? Am I looking at Rose’s newest trainee designer?”
“I don’t know yet, but I think it went well. The art director isamazing. And I actually met Harry Rose! I didn’t realize he’s so young.”
“Yes, he’s only just taken over the helm from his uncle, Richard York.I hear good things about him, seems pretty bright. He’s got all sorts of interesting ideas about where he wants to take the company.”
“You seem to know a lot.”
“Yeah, we’re pitching for the business later in the year. It’s going to be huge for us. I’ve been given the nod that I’ll be heading up the pitch.”
“Percy, that’s great! But... if I get the job, that wouldn’t matter?”
Percy laughed. “I don’t think so. If you were chief exec it might be different, but a junior designer on one magazine, nah. Anyway, what’s he like, Harry Rose?”
Ana thought back. It had been a brief meeting, and rather unsettling. She’d been sitting at a long table opposite three people from theRack. There was the editor—a woman called Terri Robbins-More, who’d reminded her of Cruella de Vil. Then, from the art department, there had been Nate, long limbed, black, and cool, and the art editor, Lizzie, whose mousy bob and glasses belied immense talent, as became apparent as she talked Ana through some sample layouts. It was a top-notch team.
So far, so normal interview.
Then Harry had come in, pulling up a chair next to Terri. His presence in the room had charged the air; it crackled with charisma. He was tall, and his exquisitely tailored suit showed off his long legs and broad shoulders.
As he looked across the table at Ana, she saw the resemblance to Megan—red-gold hair and deep blue eyes fringed with long lashes. He was fair skinned with ruddy cheeks, and there was a faint sprinkling of freckles across his nose.
Harry Rose was remarkably good-looking. If you liked that type.
Ana didn’t. His self-confidence was overpowering, and for some reason she felt a desperate urge to deflate it. Nate had been talking her through the design elements of theRack, but Harry took over, pointing out things Nate had already described, using adjectives like “cool,” “street,” and “on trend.”
His words didn’t fit his persona, which was far moreHooray!than theRack.
He’d seemed a little too interested in her, watching her in a way that made her uncomfortable. She wondered again if it was something to do with Merry. He’d fluffed his words a couple of times, repeating himself and forgetting what he was about to say. She’d had to prompt him, while she sensed the discomfort of the others in the room.
