Chapter Six
The rest of the day went by quietly for Celeste. She wrote up a story to go with a photo one of her contacts had sent in. It was about a minor royal in trouble for their tasteless choice of outfit for a fancy dress party. Then she headed for home, stopping on the way to collect groceries.
The next morning, she popped out of the office to buy a Mother's Day card for her mother, and put it in the post along with an M&S voucher so she could treat herself.
Being busy was good. It meant she could ignore Ezra and concentrate on work, get those commissions rolling in.
At the end of the day, another story submitted, Jane caught her in the elevator. "Wine o'clock," she said with a grin.
For a moment Celeste hesitated, knowing full well Ezra would be at Barrels, she'd seen him leaving with Toby at their usual time.
"Oh, come on, I could really use some celeb gossip, the world of climbing interest rates and sublet law changes nearly had me banging my head against the desk earlier.
Celeste laughed. "Well, in that case, it sounds like you need saving."
"I do. Can't wait to get to Mali and flex my investigative muscles for something a little more interesting."
"It certainly will be an adventure."
The evening was warm and the clientele at Barrels were spilling out onto the pavement, standing beneath the sumptuous hanging baskets that dripped with ivy, fuchsias, and begonias.
Ezra stood to the left, sipping beer, and chatting to Toby and another reporter she didn't recognize.
Quickly she zipped past him. "I'll get these," she called to Jane. "You find us a table."
After a short wait at the busy bar, she carried two glasses of wine to the far corner of the room.
"Thanks," Jane said, taking a sip.
Celeste did the same then sat. Her phone beeped. "Sorry," she said to Jane. "I'm waiting on an update from April."
"Sure, go ahead." Jane picked up her own phone.
Celeste opened hers. The message wasn't from April, it was from Patrick: Hey you. I did some digging on your Fulham Front reporter, Jacob Matthews. I have news.
Celeste's heart squeezed as she read, dreading bad news.
A group of reporters strayed too close to the border with Russia and were captured by mercenaries. Jacob was one of them. But after nearly three weeks the Ukrainians have done a deal, a prisoner trade, and he's just been released back into Ukraine. I'd say his phone was taken, and that's why no contact. But he's alive, and if he's got any sense, working his way west and then home. Hope that helps.
"He's alive." Celeste pressed her hand to her chest. "Thank goodness." She didn't even know Jacob but the relief was instant.
"Who is alive?" Jane looked up.
"Jacob Matthews."
"What? How do you know?" Jane asked. "He's been out of contact for weeks. We've all been so worried about him."
"I have a contact on the front line in Ukraine. Apparently, Jacob was taken prisoner but has just been released. Unharmed by the sound of it."
"That is great news!" She blew out a breath. "I know the war correspondents and reporters take risks but still … he's one of our own."
"I should tell Ezra."
"You should?"
"Yes, he's worried about him."
"I suppose they are good friends. They were together in Iraq, I think."
"I didn't know that." Celeste stood. "I'll be back in a minute. He's outside."
"Is he?"
"Yes." Quickly she pushed through the crowded bar, then out the door, the scent of a London summer's evening hitting her—tarmac, beer, flowers, and sun lotion.
She marched up to Ezra. "Can I have a word?"
Surprise crossed his face, then irritation.
"It's important." She stepped away hoping curiosity would make him follow her.
He did, bottle of beer still in hand.
Once around the corner from Barrels and standing in front of a closed dry-cleaner's, she handed him her phone. "Read this."
"What? Why?" He shoved his hand through his hair, mussing it up so that several strands stayed pointed at the sky.
"Just bloody read it." She shook it.
"Oh, okay." He took it. "This better be good. It's been a long day."
She said nothing, just stood still as he read.
"What!" His eyes widened. "How … who … how did you … who is this from?" He stared at her, his eyes brimming with emotion. "Is this true?"
"It's from a very good friend of mine, Patrick, also a reporter. He's out there on the ground, and I asked him to see what he could find out about Jacob for you."
"But why would you do that?" He handed her phone back.
"Why not? You were worried, I might not have met Jacob but I could see he was important to you … to Fulham Front. And now we know he's okay. Let's hope he gets to the British Embassy soon and makes contact."
"Bloody hell." Ezra stepped back and leaned against the wall. "I've been so worried. Felt sure, felt it in my gut that something was horribly wrong. We've been through a lot together, had each other's backs, and not being there made me feel…"
"Guilty?"
"Yeah, guilty." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thank you. I mean like, really … thank you, Celeste."
"No problem, I just reached out to my contacts."
He still had his eyes closed as he let out a long sigh.
"Hey…" She stepped up to him and rested her hand on his arm. "You okay?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm okay." He stiffened and stepped away. His eyes opened but stayed narrowed. "It's good news, right?" his voice was gruff. "So, of course I'm okay."
"Er, yes. It's good news."
And with that he walked back around the corner leaving her alone.
"What the hell?" she muttered. The guy was like a yo-yo. She could not figure him out. One moment he looked like he needed a hug, the next he appeared mad and she braced for a scathing comment.
She sighed. She'd just have to get used to Ezra Todd's strange ways, or get used to not understanding him at any rate.
****
The next day word spread fast around the office about Jacob being alive. And then just after midday Roland appeared, clapped his hands to get everyone's attention, and let it be known that Jacob had called from Kyiv and was fit and well despite his ordeal.
A round of applause boomed over the desks along with whoops of relief. And then everyone got down to the business of reporting the news once more.
Celeste had been working on a story about a soap star who'd left her husband for another woman—April was on the hunt for a pic—when her stomach rumbled. She'd left a slice of quiche in the fridge for her lunch and went to get it.
The kitchen was empty, as everyone had either eaten or was out. She grabbed the quiche and picked up a knife and fork.
"Leave that."
Ezra was suddenly behind her, looming, his body heat radiating onto hers.
"What?" She spun and almost bumped her nose on his chin.
"Leave it." He took the plate from her hands and set it on the counter.
"But—"
"I need to talk to you."
"You do?"
He grabbed her hand and tugged her to the door.
"But where are we … what…?"
"We need some stationary," he said gruffly and tugged her to the door to the storeroom. "Won't take long."
She trotted along after him. "What won't take long?"
He kind of growled then opened the door and pulled her inside.
"I hope that's been fixed," she said, nodding at the handle.
"It has." He shut the door but didn't let go of her hand.
"I don't understand," she said, looking at his face that was filled with emotion, as though he was at war with himself. "You still seem upset about Jacob, I thought you'd be pleased."
"I am upset, mad as hell, actually."
He took a step closer and his aftershave swirled around her, heightening her senses.
"Ezra?" Her breath hitched. His mouth was so sensual, despite being in a tight line. "Why are you mad? Are you mad at me again?" She had no idea what she'd done this time.
"No, I'm mad at myself." Suddenly he cupped her face in his big warm palms and lowered his head to hers. "Really mad at myself."
She gulped and clutched his forearms. Memories of their kiss flooded her mind. "Why? Why are you mad at yourself?"
"For being so damn attracted to you. I don't want to be…" He paused. "Girls like you are heartbreakers."
He was attracted to her? He had a damn funny way of showing it. "Girls like me?"
"Yeah," he lowered his voice. "So fucking sweet and sexy that men stay up all night thinking about them."
"You stayed up all night…?" She didn't finish the sentence because his mouth swooped down on hers and he treated her to the same sexy kiss they'd had in the rain.
She snatched in a breath as his tongue found hers and her heart did a strange double beat. The man kissed as though his life depended upon it. Brimming with lust and passion and need. It was intoxicating and all-consuming.
"Fuck," he muttered releasing her face and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "You've been driving me crazy, you know that?"
"No." She clutched his t-shirt, bunching it in her fists. "I really didn't."
"From the first moment I saw you I knew you'd be trouble, and you are."
"Am I?"
"Yeah, look at me, I'm in the storeroom, wanting you so bad I'm hard as fuck. Not exactly professional, huh."
He kissed her again, pushing her up to the wall and pinning her there.
Celeste's head spun as she clung to his solid shoulders and took his wild kiss, meeting it with her own. The guy was dangerous for her common sense, she knew that much.
And then she felt it. His cock pushing through his jeans onto her groin. Big, hard, demanding.
What they hell am I doing?
She tore her mouth from his and pushed at him. "Ezra."
He stepped back, his arms falling to his sides. He appeared giddy, breathless … lost in the moment.
"We can't do this," she said, panting and straightening her t-shirt. "We can't."
"Why can't we?"
"Are you serious? We're at work and … you're my boss and … I don't care what you say, you don't like me, you've been horrible to me, over and over. There is no way on this Earth we should do this."
"Fuck." He ran his hand through his hair, something she was getting used to watching him do. "Fuck. Fuck."
"If you're attracted to me, that's your problem, not mine." She tilted her chin.
"Celeste." He held out his hands. "Don't deny it, you wanted me to kiss you then."
"Huh, who dragged who into this storeroom?"
"That's not the point. I initiated and you responded. You wanted me to kiss you. Admit it."
"Why should I? Because in a moment you'll announce that this kiss never happened, just like the one in the rain never happened and you made me feel stupid."
"Don't put words into my mouth." He shoved his hand down his jeans and appeared to adjust himself. "I don't want to deny this kiss just happened. I want you, Celeste. I want to know everything about you."
"What happened to ‘don't get comfortable, you're not staying', eh?" Her jaw tightened at the memory.
He paused then. "I'm sorry, okay, you were in Jacob's seat and it freaked me out. I'd had a dream about him getting shot the night before you showed up. It made the dream seem so real to see someone else at his desk."
"That's not my fault, yet you took it out on me."
"I said I'm sorry." He took a step closer.
"Sorry isn't enough. This job is important to me, yet you've done your best to sabotage me and make it miserable."
"It was wrong of me, I know."
She reached for the handle. A piece of her was glad he'd said sorry, but a larger part of her wasn't ready to forgive his behavior.
"I really am sorry, let me make it up to you."
"What, with a quick romp in the storeroom? I really don't think so, Ezra." She tutted.
"That's not—"
She left the room, shutting the door behind her and marched back to the kitchen to retrieve her quiche. Not that she had much appetite now. Her stomach was tight as an elastic band and her skin was flushed. How had she come so close to getting down and dirty with the office bully?
Damn it.
****
She spent the rest of the day with her head low, working, then when the time came to go home, she apologized to Jane and scooted to the Tube.
Once home she showered, made herbal tea, and flopped in front of the TV. Phone at her side in case April called with a hot story.
An hour later an email came through.
Not April. Ezra: I hoped to see you at Barrels. You usually go there after work. Where were you?
"Of all the…" She huffed and replied: I had somewhere to go. Someone to see. Why should she say any more than that? Plus, she knew him well enough to know a cryptic response would wind him up.
Ezra: You said you didn't have a boyfriend.
"Wow, you're really something, Ezra." What do you care if I have a new boyfriend?
A response came back in seconds. You know why I care. I want you.
You can't have me.
I said I was sorry, Celeste. Let's start again.
Start what again? She had the urge to shout at her phone but refrained.
You saw the worst of me. I've apologized for being unreasonable. Let's wipe the slate clean.
I don't think so, you were more than unreasonable, you were rude and childish.
Sorry for that.
"Sorry for that. Honestly, it's just not good enough." She turned her phone over and ignored it when it beeped twice more. She didn't have time for Ezra's games. Next time she had a relationship she wanted it to be real.