Just Friends (The Agency Book 1) Read online

  “Violet, please. You’re never like this. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

  I rock forward in the squeaky chair, wrapping my arms protectively around my body. I inhale a lungful of air to help me force out the words I need to say. “It happened on Wednesday night. I stayed late to finish some work. I was almost at the lifts to go home when I realised I’d forgotten my bag, and I went back . . .” I bite on my lip again as another tear makes its escape. I quickly bat it off my face. “Ridley and Malcolm were in Diego’s office. I didn’t know why and I could hear them fighting, so I listened at the door.”

  Ethan’s eyes widen. “What did you hear?”

  “I’m sorry, Ethan . . . I couldn’t tell you . . . I . . .”

  “Violet. What did they say?” His voice is loud and firm.

  “Ridley was having an affair with Carly. He was with her when she—”

  “What?” he gasps into the room, and for what seems like hours I think that’s all he’s going to say. The silence is heavy, weighed down by words needing to be spoken, but nothing is said.

  “Say something, Ethan. Please.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Ridley was screwing around with Carly when I was . . . fuck! He was with her when she passed out and he didn’t call for help? He was with her when she choked? We found her, Vi. Max and me. What if we hadn’t? She almost died.”

  “I don’t know why he didn’t help her. Maybe he panicked . . .”

  I finally look at him. He flops back on the sofa. “And Malcolm knows this?”

  “Yes, Ridley is blackmailing him. He needed a fake alibi. You have to believe me . . . I wanted to tell you so much. For two days this has been killing me, but Malcolm begged me not to say anything.”

  He gets up from the sofa so quickly that he scatters three cushions to the ground. “Jesus Christ, this is huge!” He runs his hand through his hair and starts pacing the floor, backwards and forwards, as if the repetitive movements will help him order his thoughts. “To be clear, Ridley and Carly were together, and he ran off when she almost choked to death?” I nod. “What kind of an animal is he?”

  I consider telling him about the additional unpleasant encounter I had with Ridley in his office yesterday, but given that Ethan physically attacked a space cadet for roaring in my face last night, I decide to keep it to myself. “Maybe he’d gone to find help . . . I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” He’s yelling at me now. I hope Max is able to sleep through all of this.

  “I don’t know how or why or what they were doing when she passed out, and will you stop shouting at me?”

  “You don’t like me shouting at you? Jesus, Violet, I could kill you, never mind shout at you. You kept this from me and Max – the two people in the entire world who most needed to know about it. Have you any idea what I’ve been going through? I mean, you know about Max lying in his bed trying to sleep off the shit he’s taken to block out his guilt, don’t you?” I can’t bear the disappointment in his face as he slowly looks away from me and shakes his head in exasperation. “You knew how much having sex with Carly that night was playing on my mind. How could you do this?”

  “Don’t you think I wanted to tell you?”

  “Then why the fuck didn’t you? It isn’t difficult. ‘Oh hey, Ethan, you’ll never guess what I just overheard. Ridley Gates was with Carly when she almost died.’ What’s so bloody hard about that? You’ve just told me now and it took, what, thirty seconds? Why would you keep something like this from me? Is this all you’re keeping from me?”

  I can think of one huge thing I’m keeping from him, but a grandiose I’m-terrified-by-these-weird-feelings-I’m-suddenly-having-for-you revelation might send our current shitfest into the murky depths of unrecoverable disaster, so I come clean with the other thing. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? “I already knew Ridley and Carly were an item. They both warned me off, that night. That’s when Carly told me about Stuart’s fiancée.”

  The utter desolation which flashes across his face makes me want to sink to my knees, curl up into a ball and hibernate for infinity. “Does Ridley know about me and Carly?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t care.” Ethan’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head as if physically trying to shrug off the news I’ve given him. “This has been eating me up for days, Ethan, and I didn’t know what to do. Just tell me what I can do.”

  “Don’t keep secrets from me – ever. Like you promised. That would be a good start.”

  I whisper another apology, but he isn’t won over. We’ve argued many times before, but it’s always been about silly work stuff and it’s never ever been as bad as this.

  “What’s Ridley got on Malcolm?”

  I open my mouth but then think twice and close it again. He notices and my stomach dives when I see the frustration embedded in his eyes.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, you’re kidding me. Seriously?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I promised him I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

  “And what about the promise you made to me?” He picks up his suit jacket from the back of the sofa and walks towards the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He spins around, puts on his jacket and straightens his tie. “Back to the office. One of us needs to work.” His eyes are glassy, his face flushed red. He’s furious with me, and I hate it.

  “You can’t go like this. We haven’t finished talking yet.”

  “We’re finished for now. I need to go and you need to watch Max.” He walks away and I can’t breathe. I don’t know how to make him stay and listen to me. He opens the door, but before he walks through it he turns around to face me. “I don’t think I know you anymore.”

  And then he’s gone.

  And I collapse onto the sofa and replay everything he said to me until my head aches.

  15

  MAX SLEEPS FOR THE REST of the morning. I try to work, but I’ve taken several trips to Facebook, Amazon and a fan page for Robert Downey Jr. instead. What can I say? When I’m on a downer, I seek solace in Iron Man.

  Today my brain decides, for the first time in its life, that Ethan bears a passing resemblance to Tony Stark, so I flick over to my YouTube playlist to take my mind off him. But this makes everything worse. First up on my playlist is Coldplay’s “The Scientist” . . . or rather the cover version Ethan and Rory did a couple of years ago. My insides spin as his strong voice draws me in and I imagine he’s singing about me. Oh my god, why? I’ve listened to their songs on YouTube dozens of times, but I’ve never felt like this before.

  I switch it off and decide to punish myself with Candy Crush, but I’m rewarded at precisely 12.54 p.m. when I finally achieve the unachievable – the completion of Level 374. This means I’m king of the world and I need to celebrate with food.

  I take a trip to Max’s fridge, which is in much better shape than mine. Fruit, vegetables, raw ingredients to make stuff. Wow, I’m in awe. I consider cooking something for all of ten seconds, before immersing myself in the creation of a celebratory sandwich instead. Bread, spread, Polish cold meats and some suspicious-looking smoked cheese with black skin. Clearly Max is still convenience-shopping at the Happy Shopper next to Brixton Tube.

  After lunch, a text message from the office brings good news.

  Zoe visited Carly in hospital yesterday. Carly said she was taking coke with “a mystery man” at the party, and her parents are threatening to book her into rehab. Carly didn’t mention Ridley at all. Rory has the night off so he can watch Max from three. See you back at the office.”

  ***

  Rory Fraser’s timekeeping is as bad as his brother’s, so I’m still here when Max wakes up at three thirty and stumbles into the sitting room like a zombie searching for a limb to chew on. He grabs some cold meat from his fridge and eats it straight from the packet.

  “I have some good news to tell you,” I say when he takes a seat next to me on his Kermit-green sofa. “Zoe says Carly is on the me
nd. Apparently, she was with a guy when she passed out. They were drinking and taking cocaine. Carly’s parents have booked her into rehab once she’s better. See, I told you this wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”

  I watch with pleasure as the relief slowly washes over him – ripples at first, then his muscles relax, and finally I see his spark return. I put my arm around him and give him a peck on the cheek. He responds with a smile so big it overtakes his face in a gigantic crescent moon. “Oh, shit. You’re serious, aren’t you?” He laughs and pulls me into a hug. And just like that, I have my happy Max back again.

  Rory arrives at four thirty with food sent up from Captain Cluck – secret recipe number three of ten (Cajun Hot). I leave them to it and hail a taxi to take me straight to the office.

  ***

  “Ah, there you are,” says a voice from behind me, two seconds after I sit down at my desk. I turn around and my stomach falls flat. It’s Malcolm, accompanied by his twitching, pissed-off moustache. “Good of you to grace us with your presence. Now, would you mind telling me where you’ve been all day?”

  “I messaged Gabriel to say I had a family emergency and I’d take the day as annual leave.”

  “Not good enough!” he snaps. Will and Pinkie look up from their desks in surprise. “We have a major account to save and you’re integral to us doing that. I’ve been fire-fighting since the weekend, and everyone had their noses to the grindstone yesterday. Fraser has been in a meeting with TV Production all afternoon – without you. We needed you, you weren’t there, and I want the truth – not something plucked from Fraser’s book of top fifty pathetic excuses.”

  I can’t believe he’s pushing this. Just a week ago I would have felt sick to my stomach at the thought of being disrespectful to Malcolm, but everything has changed now. I’m not apologising for needing most of the day off to deal with the car crash he created. “I’ve already said it was a family thing.”

  “My office. Now.”

  And suddenly I’m no longer so sure of myself.

  I follow him to his office on the floor below, my skirt swishing and the pencil pleats flicking at the back of my knees. He closes the door behind us and slowly turns around. I fully expect him to attack with teeth bared, but instead his face is drawn and anxious. “Do you know what your disappearing act did to me today?” he asks pitifully.

  I shift awkwardly on my heels, wondering if I should continue my lie or brave it out. As usual, I go for the easier option. “I’m sorry. Something came up.”

  “You’re lying to me.” His moustache twitches angrily again. “What’s going on?”

  “I tried to see you yesterday, but this morning, like I told you, something came up.”

  “Rubbish. No it didn’t.” He picks up a pen and starts banging it on the desk in front of him, one end then the other, making a see-saw between his fingers. “You’re lying to me. Where were you? Who did you see and who did you talk to?”

  “Look, Malcolm, you’re making me feel very uncomfortable here. I already told you it was a personal matter which has nothing to do with you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Yeah well, time to start caring!” He stands up sharply and his chair slams into the wall behind him, making my heart leap into my throat. “Tell me where you were, or so help me god, I’ll fire you.”

  “You’re going to fire me?” I ask in amazement. I put my hands on my hips, infuriated by his ridiculous behaviour. “After the conversation we had on Wednesday night?” For the first time in my life I start to wonder about employment rights and what the agency’s bullying policy looks like, but then I try to put myself in Malcolm’s position. He’s stressed and he’s scared. I let my arms drop to my sides. “Okay, if you must know, I was with Max this morning.”

  “Max? You mean Max Wolf? He rang in sick yesterday. Is he sick?”

  “He was having a hard time, but I can’t give you too many details. He blamed himself for what happened to Carly Hayes.”

  Malcolm’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Did Wolf screw her too?”

  I know I should not be giving Malcolm this information, but I don’t know how to get around it. “Let’s just say Max may have acquainted Carly with some Class B substances, but we learned today that she is already familiar with the Class A variety.”

  “Yeah, she’s a cokehead. How did you find out?”

  Oh shit, was I not supposed to know about that? “Um . . . a friend of Carly’s told me.”

  “The only person who knows, aside from me and Ridley Gates, is Zoe. Did she tell you?” His face turns ashen, and I know the penny has dropped. “Damn, Fraser’s the missing link in this, isn’t he?”

  I sigh and slowly nod my head. Malcolm thuds his fists on his desk, clenching his jaw tight. “Have you told him about me? How much does he know?”

  “I only told him about Ridley and Carly. I didn’t tell him about the money. He won’t say anything, he—”

  “Don’t be stupid. The man hates me!”

  “What do you want me to say, Malcolm? You’re in the wrong here, not me.”

  “I want you to say you’ll keep quiet like you promised and you won’t tell anyone else. If Ridley Gates follows through with his threats, it won’t be just my life and Emily’s . . . I have children and grandchildren. All their lives will be ruined.”

  I look away. I feel guilty, but at the same time I’m pissed off that he’s making me feel guilty. “I had to tell Ethan. For the same reason I had to tell Max. They were both blaming themselves and it wasn’t fair. I wanted to see you yesterday because I think you should call Ridley’s bluff. He has something on you, and you have something on him. You’re even now.”

  He looks at me as if I were an idiot. “You think it’s that easy? Have you any idea what Ridley Gates is capable of?”

  I think back to yesterday. I remember how he threatened me, his lewd behaviour and the disgusting things he said . . . Was that him at his worst? I hope so, because I convinced myself I could handle him. “You can’t let him get away with this, Malcolm.”

  He shakes his head wearily. “Thank you, Violet, that’ll be all.”

  I don’t have the energy or the inclination to try to reason with him, so I leave his office and head back to my desk, but I have to pass Ridley Gates’s office on the way. My stomach sinks when I see him at the water cooler outside.

  “Ah, Miss Archer, are you coming to see me?” he asks, his face fixed in a nauseating grin. I glance at Lucille, who shoots me an uneasy smile.

  “No, why would I?”

  “No reason,” he says with a wink as he slithers towards me. “There is something I wanted to see you about. It’ll only take a moment.”

  He beckons me into his lair, and I have two possible courses of action. The easiest would be to make up a lie and excuse myself. The hardest would be to pull myself together, walk into his office like I own it and refuse to let him beat me.

  I surprise myself by choosing the most difficult one.

  As soon as the door closes behind me, I set the tone. “So I hear Carly’s out of the coma. I wonder if she knows you left her to die yet.”

  Ridley’s expression is unreadable. There’s no anger, no anxiety, and his trademark slimy smirk hasn’t been summoned. “Take a seat.” He walks around me to sit in his black leather desk chair.

  “I’m fine standing.”

  Ridley’s smirk returns. “Fine. Stand then.”

  I try not to let him get to me, but I can feel my pulse start to race. “If you’ve called me in here for a repeat performance of yesterday, then I will make a complaint about you.”

  He lounges back in his chair like a Bond villain, his hands folded in his lap. “Who would you complain to? Malcolm?” He starts to laugh. Oh my god, how much do I hate this man? I briefly contemplate smacking him in the face, but then I remember I’ve never hit anybody in my life and I have no way of knowing how good my aim is.

  “No, I
’ll speak to Human Resources.”

  “Human Resources? Oh, now I’m scared. Please, Violet, anything but that.” He laughs harder and I ball my left hand into a fist, just in case I need it.

  “Ridley, I have a lot of work to get through. What did you want me for?” He says nothing. All he does is recline in his chair and swivel it from side to side. If “shitweasel” were an actual word, he would be the dictionary definition of it. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. I’m going back to my desk.” I turn around, walk to the door and take hold of the metal door handle . . .

  “What happened to Laurel?”

  I stop dead. My hold on the door handle tightens, but I can’t move and I can’t speak. The only sounds I can hear are my own breaths.

  “I don’t know if you’ve given my proposal any more thought, Violet, but I did some research on you just in case. I wanted to get to know you better, but none of the staff could help. It seems you’re quite the enigma. I find that intriguing.”

  I’m still facing the door when I hear him get up from his desk and walk over to me. My breathing gets louder and my skin crawls with rage and disgust . . . No! I tell myself. No, I’m not going to let him win. I won’t. Fuck him! I inhale deeply and hold my breath for a moment, forcing some calm into my body.

  I turn to face him. “Laurel was my sister. But judging by the look on your face, you already know that.”

  He grins, and his pearly white teeth glow against his leathery skin. “I do.”

  My hand loosens slightly on the door handle as I stare into his cold, dead eyes. “So, there’s nothing more to talk about.” I turn and grip the handle again to pull it towards me.

  But Ridley is quicker. He slams the door shut with both hands and narrows the space between us, his arms braced at either side of my body. I try to move, but my back is pressing against his chest and my legs are straddled by his. I recoil as I feel his breath on my neck. “You’re not talking about me to anybody. If you do, I will destroy Malcolm, and you won’t be able to take a step in this city without everyone knowing how you got your sister killed.” He removes one of his hands from the door and grips my upper arm. I push back and try to break free, but I’m trapped, his body pinning me in place.