Page 37 of Take My Breath Away
JAMES
At his desk, Perry’s concentrating hard on his computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Standing next to him, Elliot leans forward slightly, nodding as he reads whatever it is Perry’s typing out. Neither of them has seen me. It’s been a while since I visited Elliot at his office and it seems a little strange seeing Perry here working in his other life. I’m also very aware, almost viscerally aware, of my and Elliot’s talk in The Breaker’s Yard.
Elliot says something and, straightening, spots me standing in the doorway to the outer office. Perry looks up too, and smiles, his cheeks reddening.
“I’m taking Perry to meet a couple of friends of mine who run a bakery. We’re going to be spending the evening talking about buttercream icing and sponge cake, and the awful drudge it is to run a cake shop. Isn’t that so, Perry?”
“If you mean you’re introducing me to contacts in the hospitality industry, specifically within artisanal bakery, then yes, you’re correct.”
Perry’s voice is even and professional although he’s still blushing as red as the cherry on top of a Bakewell.
“You’re not yet,” Elliot says, frowning at me. “This acquisition correspondence needs to be sent out.” Elliot looks down at Perry. “If you could just get those emails out with the attachments, I think that’s all we can do for today.” He looks up and fixes me with a hard stare. “And no, nobody’s going to make you a coffee whilst you wait, if that’s what you’re thinking. You can do it yourself if you want it, or you can come into the office so you don’t disturb Perry.”
“Oh, he’s so butch sometimes. How can you stand it?” I mutter to Perry as Elliot strides towards his office, leaving the door open for me. “Make sure you’re ready to go at the dot of five. Rory and Jack keep disgustingly early hours now that they have the baby taking up every spare minute they’re not in the bakery.” I give him a quick squeeze on the shoulder before I follow Elliot to his office.
Closing the door, I flop into the chair opposite Elliot’s desk.
“You really shouldn’t be encouraging my Executive Assistant to leave.”
“You’ve changed your tune, because that’s not what you said to me in the bar.”
Elliot snorts. “Perhaps I’ve changed my mind. He’s been invaluable over this latest acquisition.”
“Then I hope you recognise that in the appropriate manner.”
Elliot glares at me. “It’s bonus and pay review time, soon. It’ll be sorted then.” He taps hard at this keyboard, all his concentration on whatever it is on his screen. “It’ll be hellish when he goes, but I meant what I said the other night. Leaving will be the best thing for him, in the long run.”
The muscles in my shoulders tighten. Best for Perry that he’s away from me, is what he’s really getting at. We’ve already had this conversation, but I can’t help biting.
“Best for him to get as far away as possible from me, before I can no longer restrain myself and fuck him into tomorrow before throwing him on the scrap heap, you mean? Give me some credit for self control, Elliot. Perry’s become a friend, a good friend, and I know about lines you don’t cross.”
Elliot takes his time to close down his laptop, allowing my burst of anger to fade. Fade, but not disappear. He leans back in his chair, and looks at me across his desk.
“That isnotwhat I meant. He has an ambition, and he should do his best to chase it. Whatever you read into my words is for you to dissect.”
I don’t say anything for a moment. I feel like I’ve been told off, which I probably deserve.
“It’s good you’re helping him, if this is what he truly wants.”
There’s a softness to Elliot’s voice, and I meet his eyes across the desk. I let out a long sigh as I let go of my residual anger.
“I do want to help him realise his ambition, I just don’t want to help him realise it in Brighton. I only found that out a day or two ago. Brighton, for God’s sake.” I shake my head. It’s only sixty-odd miles, but at the moment if feels like the dark side of the moon. “He seems to have his heart set on going there, and he’s been looking at suitable properties online.”
“Expensive location. I hope he’s got the funds to back it up.”
“He said his parents are willing to lend a hand, but he’ll have to get a mortgage as well, I imagine. And business loans.” Long hours hunched over vats of buttercream, and loans heaped on loans…
Maybe he’ll reconsider; maybe he’ll think twice; maybe he won’t go to bloody Brighton…
I’m wishing failure on him, and it makes me sick to the stomach. I’m a better man than that.
Am I?
“If you’ve become friendly and are essentially just giving him a hand, as you claim, then why does it matter to you so much where he goes?”
Because his smile warms me down to my marrow. Because all I want to do is rush home at the end of the day to a house that now feels like a true home. Because I want to wrap my arms around him, hold him close and keep him safe. Because no other man has ever made me feel that way, and it thrills me as much as it scares me. Because when it comes to more than light and shallow, I fuck up. And when he’s gone, all that warmth will go with him, and my life will revert to what it was before.
Elliot’s steady, questioning gaze is resting on me as he waits for the answer I’m not ready to give, but I’m saved from offering up a limp response by Elliot’s desk phone ripping through the silence.
