Page 17 of Loving Jemima

“I am,” she said. “I know I take what we have for granted, and I know that I haven’t been making the most of myself. I understand that you’re trying to teach me a lesson and I want you to know that I’ve taken it to heart.”

“Good,” said her father. He paused in his eating, looking at her with sharp eyes. “You’re not a fool, Jemima. And I won’t treat you like one. You’re an intelligent woman who knows her ownmind. You could be successful in whatever it is you choose to do. I’m not insisting on marrying you off or on leaving you the company. But I do want you to be able to stand on your own two feet, not an unreasonable request.”

“It’s not,” Jem said, feeling relief start to come over her. Not quite the relief her father felt at finally securing the bloodline, she was sure, but enough. She would start looking for something to do, she promised herself. Maybe in the new year when things were fresh.

There would be far too much to do in the next few months leading up to Christmas.

“And it’s also not an unreasonable request that you pay off your own debts,” her father was saying.

Jem’s ears pricked up. “No,” she said slowly.

“Which is why you will be coming into the office tomorrow at eight,” he continued. He leaned in slightly. “If you don’t appear, then consider your allowance suspended indefinitely.”

Jem’s mouth fell open of its own accord. “But… but…” she spluttered.

“The matter is closed, Jemima. You have a lesson you need to learn and you will learn it. I expect to see you tomorrow.” He looked up and smiled as his son returned. “Now, Jasper, I want your take on that meeting this afternoon. What did you think?”

The issue was closed.

She’d be going to work.

SHE LEFT HER father and her brother drinking disgusting port and being manly, escaping into the light drizzle of the evening and pulling out her phone to text as she went. She couldn’t believe her father was actually going to make her follow through on this one.

Not only that, but he’d doubled down. Now it wasn’t just a matter of getting her car repaired, it was a matter of keeping her generous allowance.

Out?She texted to a group chat. Then she sent the samemessage individually to Rolly and considered sending it to Annabelle.

Except maybe Rolly was right about Annabelle. Maybe she was starting to get suspicious and maybe she should stay firmly out of her way for a while, even forever. She couldn’t risk Annabelle getting involved in her private life.

She hesitated and decided not to text her. She’d known Annabelle for a long time. She was rich and spoiled, but then Jem was self-aware enough to know that she was too. She could be annoying and was definitely interfering, but she was also loyal and amusing. However, Jem was willing to sacrifice her from her social circle if it meant keeping herself safe.

She climbed into the car that was waiting for her. “Just drive around the block a few times, I’m waiting for a text,” she told the driver, settling back into the soft leather seat.

Ten minutes later the only reply she had was from Rolly.Not tonight, darling, I’m actually cooking.

Huh. Rolly cooking. Whoever this man was that he was seeing was having a good influence, she supposed, if a boring one. Which left her at a loose end. She thought for a long minute before tapping on the window that separated her from the driver. She gave him an address and he took the next turning on the right.

THE PLACE WAS heaving, sweating bodies intertwined on the dance floor, a drunk couple daubed in glitter paint singing karaoke, the tables littered with empty glasses and the odd bottle.

It wasn’t even that late, Jem thought. She checked her phone. Alright, it was eleven, so not that early either, but still. It was a week night and she assumed most of these people had jobs to go to.

She supposed she had a job to go to.

She was annoyed at herself for that. She should have been able to talk herself out of the situation. If Jasper hadn’t been therethen she probably would have. And now she was supposed to be showing up clean and pretty and painted nine hours from now. Still, she deserved a bit of fun first, didn’t she?

She could have gone to any of the bars on her own side of the river. She didn’t know what had driven her back to this one.

Her eyes strayed over the room, carefully scanning the crowd, knowing that the bar was her best shot and deliberately leaving that until last.

After a full five minutes of looking, she shook herself and headed to the bar to order a drink.

“Double vodka,” she told the busy bartender.

He provided and she held out a twenty pound note. He grinned and she pulled it back a centimeter. “Seen a dark-haired woman?” she asked. “Messy, curly hair, dark eyes, looks like she just stepped out of an office. About this tall.” She gestured to her chin.

He eyed the money, then shook his head.

With a sigh, she handed over the twenty pounds, drinking the shot in one go. Anxiously, she searched the bar again with her eyes, but there was no sign of her.

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