He's My Husband! - Lindsay Armstrong [33]
‘Fine, thanks, Fiona! How are you?’
It took all of ten minutes to be told, and to comment interestedly on the state of Fiona’s health, wealth and otherwise, but then that good lady frowned and said, ‘Brett didn’t mention you were coming in, Nicola.’
‘He didn’t know. But he’s here, isn’t he?’
‘Y-e-s,’ Fiona said cautiously, ‘but he’s in a staff meeting and—’
‘Then I’ll just pop up. It’s rather important, Fiona. Don’t worry,’ she added humorously, ‘I’ll take the blame.’ And she trod up the marble staircase.
There was no one in the outer office, where his secretary should have been, so Nicola shrugged, walked to the door of the inner sanctum, tapped on it and opened it without waiting for a response.
There were only two people at the alleged staff meeting, she discovered, as Brett looked up from the other side of the vast oak desk that had once been her father’s.
The desk was littered with files and documents, and there was no doubting her husband was annoyed at this untimely interruption. His expression was distinctly irritated and impatient as he swung the silver pen between his fingers, then threw it down with a clunk.
The second person at the meeting was on the same side of the desk as he was, leaning over his shoulder to scan a document, and she wore a pewter silk blouse with a jungle-green denim skirt. Her dark hair was luxuriously and wonderfully styled, as if she’d just walked out of a hairdresser’s, and the faintest trace of Chanel No 5 lingered on the air—Tara Wells.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘NICOLA—what are you doing here?’
It occurred to Brett as soon as he’d spoken that he’d been less than diplomatic as his wife bent her lovely but severe gaze upon him. It also occurred to him that this beautifully groomed and imperious Nicola bore little resemblance to the tousled although no less lovely creature of two nights ago and the night before...
How the hell I am going to defuse this? he wondered somewhat grimly. I must have been mad.
Nicola switched her gaze from him to Tara, and said, ‘Sorry to break this up, Tara, but I need to speak to Brett.’
Tara blinked, then pinned a smile on. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening the other night. I was going to ring you! How did you get on with Richard this morning, by the way? It was this morning he was coming, wasn’t it?’
‘Fine,’ Nicola said brightly, but made no attempt to elaborate.
‘Well...’ Tara gathered the files together. ‘I’ll leave you two together.’ But when she was halfway to the door she turned and said, ‘Perhaps you and Brett would come and have dinner with me some time? My unit is nearly finished—I had it redecorated; it’s much more me now.’
‘Thank you very much,’ Nicola said formally.
Tara hesitated, then left with barely concealed reluctance.
‘Not spying on me by any chance, Nicola?’ Brett drawled, lying back in his chair.
‘What makes you think that?’ she shot back.
‘Your unheralded arrival, and your look of deep suspicion when you saw who was here.’
‘I only arrived unheralded because I was afraid you’d find some way of fobbing me off, Brett,’ Nicola said evenly. ‘As for how I may have looked, I’m quite sure Tara could have conducted any business with you from this side of the desk. I also wouldn’t have thought that could be classified as a “staff meeting”, but you live and learn.’ She unhooked her purse from her shoulder and put it down on the desk with a rattle of the chain.
‘You’re being ridiculous, Nicola.’
‘Am I? We’ll see. But that’s not why I came. What are we going to do, Brett?’
He sat up. ‘Couldn’t this have waited until tonight?’
‘No, it could not! I’m going out of my mind worrying about it.’
He studied her for a moment, then reached for the phone and instructed his secretary to hold all calls and interruptions and to bring in coffee.
‘Thank you.’ Nicola sat down.
He grimaced. ‘Do you have any suggestions?’
‘No. I’ve gone over it again and again—’ she rubbed her brow and sighed ‘—but I keep coming back to square one. I thought at one stage that the sooner I went the better, but now it looks as if it