Under the Boss’s Mistletoe

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I’M DAMNED if I’m going to waste my time sucking up to Portrevick,’ said Jake, a mulish look about his mouth…

‘You won’t have to. I’ll do it for you,’ said Cassie soothingly. ‘You won’t need to do anything but turn up on 31st October, put on a tux and be civil for two or three hours. You can manage that, can’t you?’

‘I suppose so,’ he said grudgingly.

‘It’ll be worth it when you can walk away and know the Hall is established as part of the community and has local support,’ she encouraged him. ‘If you want to fulfil Sir Ian’s wishes, then this is the best way you can go about it.’

Jake looked at her; she was sitting on the old table and swinging her legs. She was a vibrant figure in the gloomy hall with her bright cardigan, bright face and bright, unruly hair. She didn’t look sensible, but he had a feeling that what she had said just might be.

‘It’s not long to Allantide,’ he pointed out. ‘You’ll never get contractors in that quickly.’

‘We will if you’re prepared to pay for it,’ said Cassie, gaining confidence with every word. ‘We’ve got six weeks. If we aimed to have the great hall redecorated by then, it would give us a real incentive to get things moving.’

Narrowing her eyes, she pictured the hall decorated and full of people. ‘It’s not as if any major structural work is required. It just needs cleaning up a bit.’

She flicked open her Netbook and began typing notes to herself. This was good. There had been a nasty little wobble there when she’d remembered the time they had kissed, but she was feeling under control again now. Cool, calm, competent; wasn’t that how she was supposed to be?

OK, maybe she wasn’t calm, exactly-not with the unsettling feeling that seemed to fizz under her skin whenever she looked at Jake-but at least she was giving a good impression of competence for once.

‘The more I think about it, the more I like the idea,’ she said. ‘We can use the ball to start spreading the word that the Hall can be hired for special occasions. We’ll invite the local paper here to take some pictures…oh! And we can have some photos done for a website too, so people can see how fabulous the great hall can look. We can hardly put a picture up of it looking the way it does now, can we?’

‘Website?’ said Jake, a little taken aback at how quickly her plans seemed to be developing.

‘You’ve got to have a website,’ Cassie said as if stating the obvious. ‘In fact, we should think about that right away. We can’t afford to leave it until all the work’s been done, or we’ll miss out on another year.’

Fired with enthusiasm, she snapped the Netbook closed and jumped off the table. ‘Come on, let’s look at the other rooms.’

She dragged Jake round the entire house, looking into every room and getting more and more excited as she went.

‘You know, I really think this could be fantastic,’ she said when they ended up on the terraces outside. She gestured expansively. ‘You’ve got everything: a wonderfully old and romantic place for ceremonies, enough space for big parties, plenty of bedrooms…

‘We don’t need to do them all at once,’ she reassured Jake, who had been mentally calculating how much all these grand plans were going to cost. ‘At first, we just need somewhere the bride can get ready, but eventually we could offer rooms for the whole wedding-party.’

‘Maybe,’ said Jake, unwilling to commit himself too far at this stage. He wanted the Hall to become self-sufficient so he didn’t need to think about it any more, but it was becoming evident as Cassie outlined her ideas that it was going to prove a lot more expensive than he had first anticipated.

‘And the best thing is, there’s no major structural work required yet,’ she went on. ‘We just need to think about the initial refurbishment for now.’

She pointed over towards the fine nineteenth-century stable block with older barns beyond. ‘Eventually you could have more than one wedding at a time. The barns would be great for an informal wedding.’

Her face was alight with enthusiasm, and Jake found himself thinking that perhaps giving Cassie the contract might not be such a big mistake after all.

Last night, he had bitterly regretted that he had ever taken the advice to contact her. Cassie had talked all the way down the motorway, barely drawing breath for seven whole hours. She had an extraordinarily vivid imagination and was, Jake had to admit, very funny at times. But she was much too distracting. He had been exasperated by the way she kept tugging at the edge of his vision when he should have been concentrating on the road.

Now he was changing his mind again. Perhaps Cassie wasn’t as coolly professional as the people he normally did business with, but she seemed to know what she was talking about. Her speech was refreshingly free of business jargon, and she had a warmth and an enthusiasm that might in the end get the job done faster than one of his marketing team, however sound their grasp of financial imperatives or strategic analysis.

She was leaning on the terrace wall, looking out over garden, her hands resting on the crumbling coping-stones. In profile, her lashes were long and tilting, the edge of her mouth a dreamy curve. The sunlight glinted on her brown curls-except that brown was too dull a word for her hair, Jake realised. Funny how he had never noticed what a beautiful colour it was before, a shade somewhere between auburn and chestnut with hints of honey and gold.

Unaware of his gaze, Cassie was following her own train of thought. ‘I’ve just had a great idea!’ she said, turning to him, and Jake looked quickly away. ‘I’ve got contacts with a couple of wedding magazines. Maybe I could get them to do a story about how we’re turning the Hall into the ultimate wedding venue? It would be fantastic promotion and get people talking about it. We could even start taking some advance bookings…What do you think?’

‘I think I’m going to leave it all up to you,’ said Jake slowly.

‘Really?’ The big brown eyes lit with excitement.

‘Yes,’ he said, making up his mind. He doubted that he would find anyone else as committed to the project, even if he had the time to find them. ‘We can agree the fees when we get back to London, but in the meantime I’d like you to go ahead, make whatever decisions you need and get work started as soon as possible.’

‘Er…it’s me.’ Cassie made a face at the phone. Excellent, Cassie. Stuttering and stumbling was always a good way to impress an important client with your professionalism. ‘Cassie…Cassandra Grey,’ she added, just in case Jake knew anyone else who went to pieces at the sound of his voice.

‘Yes, so my PA said when she put you through,’ said Jake with an edge of impatience.

‘Oh yes, I suppose she did. Um, well, I just thought I’d let you know how things are going at the Hall.’

‘Yes?’

His voice was clipped, and Cassie bit her lip, furious with herself for irritating him before she had even started. Why was she being so moronic? Everything was working out just as she’d planned, and she had been feeling really pleased with herself. Ringing Jake with an update hadn’t seemed like a big deal when she had picked up the phone two minutes ago, but the minute he had barked his name her insides had jerked themselves into a knot of nerves.

He sounded so distant that she was tempted to put the phone down, but that would be even sillier. Besides, she needed his OK on a number of matters.

‘We’ve been making progress,’ she told him brightly.

‘Yes?’ he said again, and her heart sank. She had hoped they had reached a kind of understanding at the Hall. Jake had certainly seemed more approachable then, but he was obviously in a vile mood now-which didn’t bode well for the idea she wanted to put to him.

She cleared her throat. ‘There are one or two things I need to talk to you about,’ she said. ‘Are you free for lunch at all this week?’

‘Is it important?’

What did he think-that she wanted to take him out for the pleasure of his company? Wisely, Cassie held her tongue.

‘It is, rather.’

There was an exasperated sigh at the other end of the phone, and she imagined him checking his electronic organiser. ‘Does it have to be this week?’

Clearly, he couldn’t wait to see her again. ‘The sooner the better, really,’ said Cassie.

More tsking. ‘Lunch might be tricky,’ he said after a moment. ‘Could we make it dinner instead?’

Oh, great. And there she had been feeling nervous at the prospect of an hour’s lunch. ‘Er, yes. Of course.’

‘What about tomorrow?’

‘Fine. I’ll book a table,’ said Cassie quickly, just so he knew that it was a business dinner and that she would be picking up the tab. Not that there was any question of a date. She hesitated. ‘As it’s dinner, would Natasha like to join us?’ she asked delicately.

There was a pause. ‘Not tomorrow,’ said Jake curtly.

‘Oh, that’s a pity,’ said Cassie, although actually she was rather glad. She didn’t fancy spending a whole evening being compared to the perfect Natasha, and besides she couldn’t help feeling that her idea would be better put to Jake alone in the first instance.

They arranged to meet at Giovanni’s, an Italian restaurant just round the corner from Avalon’s office, where she and Joss were regulars. There was no way Cassie’s expense account could rise to the kind of restaurants Jake was no doubt accustomed to, but the food at Giovanni’s was good and the ambience cheerful, and in the end Cassie decided that it was better to stick to the unpretentious.

It was only when she arrived the following evening that she began to wonder if it had been such a good idea. Giovanni treated her and Joss like daughters, and the brides-to-be they took there were invariably delighted by him, but Cassie had a feeling Jake would be less charmed.

Still, it was too late to change now. Cassie hurried along the street, her heels clicking on the pavement. Anxious not to make it look as if she were expecting some kind of date, but wanting to make an effort for their now most-important client, she had dithered too long about what to wear. Eventually she had decided on a sleeveless dress with a little cardigan and her favourite suede boots, but they had proved to be a mistake, too. Fabulous as they were, it was hard to walk very fast in them.

Jake, of course, hadn’t even had the decency to be a few minutes late and was waiting for her outside Giovanni’s, looking dark, lean and remote. His suit was immaculately tailored, his expression shuttered. Oh God, now he was cross with her for not being on time.

Cassie’s heart sank further. It didn’t look as if the evening was getting off to a good start.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said breathlessly as she clicked up on her heels. ‘I hope you haven’t been waiting long?’

‘A couple of minutes, that’s all. I was early.’

The dark gaze rested on her face and Cassie saw herself in his eyes, red-faced and puffing, her hair all anyhow. So much for cool professionalism. She had been so proud of herself recently, too, and had vowed that it would be the start of a whole new image.

‘Well, let’s go in.’ Flustered, she reached for the door, intending to stand back and usher Jake through, but Jake was too quick for her. He reached an arm behind her and held the door, leaving Cassie no option but to go ahead of him. It was that or an unseemly tussle, but as it was she was left looking like the little woman rather than the cool, capable businesswoman she wanted to be.

No, not a good start.

Giovanni spied her across the restaurant and came sailing over to greet her, his arms outstretched.

‘Cassie! Bella!’ His kissed her soundly on both cheeks before holding her away from him. ‘You’re looking too thin,’ he scolded her, the way he always did, before turning his beady gaze on Jake. ‘And who is this?’ he asked interestedly. ‘It’s about time you brought a man here!’

‘Mr Trevelyan is a client, Giovanni,’ said Cassie hastily.

‘Shame!’ he whispered to her, plucking a couple of menus from the bar. ‘He looks your type, I think.’

Cassie opened her mouth to protest that Jake was most certainly not her type, but realised just in time that she could hardly embark on an argument with Jake right there. She would just have to hope that he hadn’t heard. He hadn’t recoiled in horror, anyway. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying them much attention at all, which was a little irritating in one way, but a big relief in another.

So she contented herself with crossing her eyes and giving Giovanni a warning glare, which he ignored completely as he gestured them towards a table tucked away in a little alcove where a candle flickered invitingly. It looked warm and intimate, and perfect for lovers.

‘My best table for you,’ he said, handing them the menus with a flourish. ‘Nice and quiet so you can talk to your client,’ he added to Cassie with an outrageous wink.

At least the dim lighting hid her scarlet cheeks. Cassie was mortified. ‘Did I mention Joss and I were thinking of taking our clients to the Thai restaurant next door in future?’ she muttered, but Giovanni only laughed.

‘I will bring you some wine and Roberto will take your order and then, don’t worry, you can be quite alone…’ Chuckling to himself, he surged off to the kitchen, leaving a little pool of silence behind him.

Cassie unfolded her napkin. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said awkwardly after a moment. ‘He’s quite a character.’

‘So I gather,’ said Jake.

‘I mean, he’s lovely, but he does go a bit far sometimes. We bring a lot of clients here, but it’s usually at lunchtime, and they’re usually brides, so it’s become a bit of a standing joke that I never come with a boyfriend.’

She trailed off, horribly aware that she was babbling. Jake was making her nervous. There was a tightness to him tonight, a grim set to his mouth, and an air of suppressed anger. Surely it wasn’t anything she had done, was it? Everything had been going so well down in Portrevick. Had he heard something?

‘Er, well, anyway…We’re supposed to be talking about the Hall,’ she said brightly.

Jake seemed to focus on her properly for the first time. ‘You said you had made some progress?’

‘I have.’ Cassie told him about the contractors she had engaged. A small army of them was already hard at work. ‘They’re mostly cleaners,’ she explained. ‘There’s so much wood in the great hall that it doesn’t need much decorating-although they’re repainting the roof-but the walls, the floor and the fireplace need a thorough clean and polish. It’s all well in hand for the Allantide Ball.’

‘Good,’ said Jake absently. Cassie wondered if he had even been listening. He was frowning down at a knife he was spinning beneath one finger.

‘I’ve also been in touch with various local caterers, florists, photographers and so on, and started to draw up a directory of our own.’

‘It all sounds very promising,’ said Jake as Giovanni’s nephew appeared with a carafe of wine. Less expansive than his uncle, or perhaps just more sensitive to Jake’s grim expression, he took their orders with the minimum of fuss.

‘You’ve been busy,’ Jake added to Cassie, folding the menu and handing it back to the waiter.

Well, at least he had been listening. She had wondered there for a minute. ‘There’s lots to do, but I’m enjoying it.’

Jake reached for the carafe, but, mindful that she was supposed to be the host, Cassie got there first, and he watched without comment as she filled two glasses. She didn’t know about Jake, but she certainly needed one!

She drew a breath. ‘I’ve been thinking about a promotion, too.’

If only Jake was in a more amenable mood, she thought. It was going to be tricky enough breaking the news of the deal she had made with Wedding Belles as it was. She took a sip of wine to fortify herself. ‘Do you remember me saying it might be worth contacting a couple of magazines in case they wanted to run a piece about setting up the Hall as a venue?’ she began cautiously.

‘Vaguely.’

It was hardly the most encouraging of responses, but Cassie ploughed on anyway. ‘Well, I did that, and one of them is very keen on the idea.’

There was a pause. Jake could see that she was waiting for him to say something, although he wasn’t sure what. ‘OK,’ he said.

‘But they want a bit more of a human-interest angle.’

‘Human interest?’

‘Yes, you know, to personalise the story? So it’s not just the story of how the building is being prepared, it’s also about a couple preparing to get married there. The readers love real-life stories,’ Cassie hurried on. ‘The editor of Wedding Belles-that’s the magazine-wants to follow a couple who are going to be married there. So the article will be illustrated with pictures of them choosing the flowers, planning menus, trying on wedding dresses and all that kind of thing.’

‘But we haven’t got any couples yet,’ Jake objected. ‘Surely the whole point of promoting the Hall like this is to find someone who wants to get married there?’

‘Quite,’ said Cassie, relieved that he at least could see the point of the article. ‘We haven’t got any punters yet, but we have got you and Natasha…’ She trailed off, hoping that Jake would get where this was all going.

He had gone very still. ‘What about me and Natasha?’

‘OK, I may have stretched the truth a little bit here,’ Cassie acknowledged, and took the final hurdle in a rush. ‘But the editor was so keen on the idea that I told her that you were getting married at the Hall at Christmas.’

‘What?’

Jake’s voice was like a lash, and carried right across the restaurant. Diners on nearby tables turned to look at them in surprise, and behind Jake at the bar Giovanni clutched a hand to his heart with an exaggerated expression of sympathy for her.

Cassie glowered at him and turned deliberately back to Jake. She had been afraid he might react like that.

‘I know it’s a cheek,’ she said, holding up her hands in a placatory gesture. ‘But I really do think it would be great publicity for the Hall. And you don’t have to go through with it if Natasha doesn’t want to get married there. They’ll only want pictures of a few set occasions, so I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t set up a few shots and create a story for them.’

Jake was looking grimly discouraging, so she hurried on before he could give her a flat no. ‘We don’t need to tell them that it isn’t actually the dress Natasha is going to wear, or those aren’t really the flowers she’d choose,’ she reassured him. ‘You and Natasha would just be models, if you like, showing what a wonderful wedding-venue the Hall will be. I know you’re both busy, but it shouldn’t take up too much time. Just a few hours every now and then to have your photos taken.

‘It would be a really effective way to promote the Hall,’ Cassie went on when there was still no response from Jake. There was an edge of desperation in her voice by now. It had taken ages to get the editor of Wedding Belles to agree to feature Portrevick Hall, and it was only the promise of the human interest lent by the owner himself getting married there-another little stretching of the truth-that had swung it for her.

‘You did say you wanted the venue to be self-sustaining as soon as possible,’ she reminded him. ‘Wedding Belles is really popular with brides-to-be around the country, and its circulation figures are amazing. If they run a feature about the Hall, we’ll have couples queuing up to book it, and you’ll be able to hand the whole place over to a manager much sooner than you thought.’

Jake drank some wine, then put down his glass. ‘There’s just one problem,’ he said.

‘Just one?’ said Cassie, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘That doesn’t sound too bad!’

He didn’t smile back. ‘Unfortunately it’s quite a major one,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid Natasha isn’t around to model anything any more. She’s left me.’

Cassie put down her glass so abruptly, wine sloshed onto the tablecloth. ‘Natasha’s left you?’

‘So it seems.’

‘But…but…’ Cassie was floundering. It was the last thing she had expected to hear. ‘God, I’m so sorry! I had no idea…’ No wonder Jake was looking so grim! ‘When did all this happen?’

‘When I got back from Cornwall.’ Jake reached across with his napkin and mopped up the wine Cassie had spilt before she made even more of a mess. ‘Natasha was waiting for me with her case packed. She said she was sorry, but she had met someone else and fallen madly in love with him.’

His first reaction had been one of surprise at her words. Natasha had never been the type to do anything madly. One of the things he had always liked about her was her calm, rational approach to everything, and now it seemed as if she was just as illogical and emotional as, well, as Cassie.

‘How awful for you.’ Cassie’s round face was puckered with sympathy. ‘How long had it been going on?’

‘Hardly any time. She said he’d literally swept her off her feet. I’ll bet he did,’ Jake added grimly. ‘He’s had plenty of practice.’

‘Gosh, he’s not a friend of yours, is he?’ That would make it twice as humiliating for him.

‘A friend?’ Jake gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘Hardly! Rupert Branscombe Fox is no friend of mine.’

‘Rupert?’ Cassie’s eyes were out on stalks. Crikey, this was like something out of a soap opera! ‘But how on earth did Natasha meet Rupert?’

‘It was my own fault,’ said Jake. Funnily enough, now that he’d started talking, he didn’t feel too bad. He’d been so angry before that he could barely bite out a word. ‘I invited Rupert round to discuss the trust at home, and Natasha was there. I didn’t think she was that impressed with him at the time.’

Cassie remembered now. Perfect Natasha had decided that Rupert was shallow-or that was what she had said, anyway.

‘What changed her mind?’

‘Rupert did. He deliberately set out to seduce Natasha to get at me.’ Jake’s expression was set. ‘I can’t believe she fell for it,’ he said, sounding genuinely baffled. ‘I thought she was too sensible to have her head turned by Rupert’s very superficial attraction. I can’t understand it at all.’

Cassie could. Even as a boy, Rupert had been extraordinarily good-looking, and if he had turned the full battery of his sex appeal on Natasha he must have been well nigh irresistible. Perhaps Natasha had been tired of being told how admirably sensible she was.

But poor Jake. How hurt and angry he must have been!

‘Rupert’s very…charming,’ she said lamely.

Jake tossed back his wine and poured himself another glass. ‘He’s using Natasha. I can’t believe she can’t see it for herself!’

‘Maybe he’s fallen in love with her,’ Cassie suggested

‘Love?’ Jake snorted. ‘Rupert doesn’t love anyone but himself.’

‘You don’t know that-’

‘Sure I do,’ he interrupted her. ‘Rupert was kind enough to explain it to me. Natasha was perfect for his purposes, he said. He was furious and humiliated by the trust Sir Ian had set up, and he’s chosen to blame me for it. Breaking up my relationship with Natasha was doubly sweet. It hurt me, and it gives him access to the trust money, or so he thinks. He claims he’s going to marry her because I won’t have any grounds for arguing that Natasha isn’t a sensible woman, as specified by Sir Ian. He was quite sure I would understand, old chap.’

Ouch. Cassie grimaced at the savagery in Jake’s voice. She didn’t blame him for being angry. She could practically hear Rupert’s light, cut-glass tones, and could just imagine what effect they would have had on Jake.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Well, I’m certainly not handing over the money yet. Natasha deserves better than to be married for such a cynical reason. The moment Rupert’s got his hands on the money, he’ll dump her like the proverbial ton of bricks,’ said Jake. ‘He’s still got to prove to me that he’s settled down, and I’ll believe that when I see it!’

Under the circumstances, it was generous of him to still think about Natasha, Cassie thought. He must love her, even if she had proved to be not quite as perfect as he had believed.

Cassie pushed her glass around, making patterns on the tablecloth. It would be quite something to be loved by someone like Jake, who didn’t give up on you even when you made a terrible mistake. She wondered if Natasha would realise that once the first thrill of being with Rupert wore off.

As it inevitably would. Cassie wasn’t a fool, whatever her family thought. She had long ago realised that Rupert’s appeal lay largely in the fact that he was out of reach. He was so impossibly handsome, so extraordinarily charming, so unbelievably glamorous, that you couldn’t imagine doing anything ordinary with him. He was the kind of man you dreamed of having a mad, passionate affair with, not the kind of man you lived with and loved every day.

Not like Jake.

Cassie’s fingers stilled on the glass. Where had that thought come from?

Looking up from her wine, she studied him across the table. Lost in his own thoughts, he was broodingly turning a fork on the tablecloth, his own head bent and the dark, stormy eyes hidden. She could see the angular planes of his face, the jut of his nose, the set of his mouth, and all at once it was as if she had never seen him before.

There was a solidity and a control to him, she realised, disconcerted to realise that she could imagine living with him in a way she had never been able to with Rupert. Bumping into Rupert again had been one of her favourite fantasies for years, but in her dreams they were never doing anything ordinary. They were getting married, not being married. They were going to Paris or sitting on a yacht in the Caribbean, not having breakfast or watching television or emptying the dishwasher.

How strange that she could picture Jake in her flat, could see him coming in from work, taking off his jacket, loosening his tie, reaching for her with a smile…

A strange shiver snaked its way down her spine. It was just Jake, she reminded herself. But he was so immediate, so real, so there, that his presence felt like a hand against her skin, and all at once she was struggling to drag enough oxygen into her lungs.

And then he looked up, the dark-blue eyes locked with hers, and she forgot to breathe at all.

‘Spaghetti carbonara.’

Cassie actually jumped as Giovanni deposited a steaming plate in front of her.

‘And fettucine all’arrabiata for your client!’

She barely noticed Giovanni’s jovial winks and nods of encouragement as he fussed around with pepper and parmesan. How long had she been staring into Jake’s eyes, unable to look away? A second? Ten? Ten minutes? She hoped it was the first, but it was impossible to tell. She felt oddly jarred, and her heart was knocking erratically against her ribs.

She was terrified in case Jake was able to read her thoughts in her eyes. Of course, she would have known if he had, because he would look absolutely horrified. He probably couldn’t think of anything worse than going home to her in an untidy flat every night.

Why was that a depressing thought?