The Tycoon's Trophy Mistress. Lee WilkinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
were away it had happened, coming out of the blue swiftly, shockingly, and by the time the news had filtered through to them, and they had arrived back from Athens, it was too late.
Apparently trying to drown his sorrows, Tim had swallowed a lethal cocktail of drink and drugs.
He was dead and buried.
There was nothing anyone could do.
Though the verdict had been an unequivocal Accidental Death, the gutter press had somehow scented a story. Discovering that there had been a fight in one of the offices of Wolfe International between the dead man and Daniel Wolfe himself they were enjoying a field day.
Having managed to dig up the fact that Tim’s fiancée had been involved, they were suggesting a love-triangle and hinting at possible suicide.
Blaming herself, Charlotte had bitterly regretted going away. If she had been at home things might have been different.
No, would have been different. If what the newspapers were suggesting was true, she would have been there for Tim, as she had been every day for the past five years…
The office door opening made her jump. She glanced up, her expression bleak.
‘Don’t look so anxious.’ Mr Telford smiled at her. ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Wolfe and he’s quite willing to go along with my recommendation. There’s only one thing; he’d like you to travel over to the States as soon as possible so you can get settled in before Christmas.’
Charlotte bit her lip to hold back the sudden surge of excitement.
Misreading her reaction, Mr Telford suggested, ‘But perhaps that’s too soon? I’m sure Mr Wolfe will understand if you’d prefer to be at home with your loved ones over Christmas?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve no loved ones left to be at home with. That’s one of the reasons I applied for the move,’ she added quietly.
Recalling not only the break-up of her engagement but what had happened to her stepbrother, and upset by his own unthinking blunder Mr Telford looked distressed. ‘Please forgive me, my dear. I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking.’
‘That’s all right.’ Then, with a determined smile, ‘Christmas in New York should be wonderful.’
‘I hope it will be.’
‘You’re very kind,’ she said warmly.
He harrumphed before asking, ‘How do you stand as far as your work’s concerned? Can some other member of the team take over?’
‘That shouldn’t be necessary. I can finish my latest report this afternoon.’
‘So when do you think you can be ready to travel?’
Adrenalin pumping through her bloodstream, she told him, ‘All I have to do is pack, so I could be ready to leave by tomorrow… If it’s possible to get a flight at such short notice?’
‘Our company have a big stake in one of the transatlantic airlines so that shouldn’t prove to be a problem. I’ll ask Mr Wolfe’s secretary to make all the arrangements. She’ll give you any other necessary information and organize a car to take you to the airport, where a ticket will be waiting for you. Needless to say, the company will be happy to defray any other travelling expenses you may incur, and this month’s salary cheque will be paid into your bank as usual.’
‘Thank you.’
Well aware that she had had to cope with more than enough heartbreak, at the door Mr Telford turned and said, ‘You will take care, won’t you…?’
Though it was, strictly speaking, none of his business, he was uneasy about Daniel Wolfe’s barely concealed interest and his motive for what Telford was beginning to suspect had been a contrived move.
But, knowing how Charlotte felt about Wolfe, common sense told him that she was hardly likely to be in any danger.
Smiling, she answered, ‘Of course.’
‘And don’t forget to come back to us.’
For an instant her smile faltered. She had already faced the fact that it would be impossible for her to return to Wolfe International. That chapter in her life was over.
Whether or not she succeeded in her mission, it would be time to put the past behind her, if she could, and move on…
But she would succeed, she vowed. She had to succeed to make the rest of her life worth living.
The bus, its grimy windows filmed with a fine drizzle, crawled through the heavier-than-usual Thursday evening traffic like a wounded snail.
By the time Charlotte got off at Belton Street and let herself into the Bayswater flat, her first, almost sick, excitement had seeped away.
So had her confidence.
As naturally tidy as her flatmate was untidy, she hung up her coat and suit jacket before going through to the bright little kitchen.
Carla, who looked like a cat, had all the subtlety of a Rottweiler and was fond of quoting platitudes. She was standing by the stove.
Her short black hair standing up in spikes, her triangular face a little flushed, she was stirring a pan of herby-smelling sauce with one hand and feeding long sticks of pasta into furiously bubbling water with the other.
Looking up, she said, ‘I thought we’d have Spag Bol tonight, if that suits you?’ Then, without waiting for an answer, ‘What happened? Did you get it?’
‘Yes, I got it.’
‘Brill! So you’re on course at last. How long will you be away?’
‘I don’t know. It all depends on how things go. The memo said six months, possibly a year… But I’m hoping to be home much sooner than that. I suppose you’ll get someone else to share the rent?’
Carla who, with another friend, Macy, ran a small but very successful boutique, shook her head. ‘I doubt it. It’s not really necessary, and I don’t know how I’d get on living with someone else.
‘Any idea when you’ll be going?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow!’ She sounded staggered. ‘Why so soon?’
‘They want me to get settled in before Christmas. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course I don’t mind. To tell you the truth, Andrew has been pressuring me to go up to Scotland with him on the 23rd. His family live in Dundee.’
‘You didn’t mention it.’
‘I couldn’t decide whether or not I wanted to go.’
Realizing that Carla had been unwilling to leave her, Charlotte could only feel grateful for such a loyal friend.
Knowing from past experience that her flatmate was uncomfortable with any undue display of sentiment, she merely said, ‘But you’ll go now, I hope?’
‘I expect so. Though the shop’s bound to be busy, Macy has offered to hold the fort for a couple of days in exchange for extra time off at New Year.’
Fishing out a strand of spaghetti and pinching it between her finger and thumb, Carla went on briskly, ‘This is done, so I’ll start dishing up. You can fill me in on all the details while we eat, and afterwards I’ll help you with your packing.’
Then with satisfaction, ‘It’s a jolly good job I bullied you into buying all those new clothes in the autumn sale…
‘Tell you what—’ she continued, putting down two steaming bowls ‘—get some wineglasses out and we’ll have a bottle of plonk to celebrate. When you’ve got your claws into Daniel Wolfe and brought him to his knees, we’ll have champagne.’
‘I don’t think I can go through with it,’ Charlotte admitted in a rush.