back and ushered her inside.
Sliding into the polished wooden pew next to Max and surreptitiously wiping her damp palms on her dress, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. From the set of his shoulders she could tell he wasn’t likely to let this go with a casual wave of his hand.
In fact she’d bet everything she had left that he was really going to fire her this time.
Frustration churned in her stomach. After all the progress she’d made in getting back on her feet, and persuading Max to finally trust her, was it really going to end like this?
Looking along the pews, she saw that her nemesis was sitting on the other side of the church, a wide smile on her face as she watched the ceremony unfold. At least that threat had been neutralised. There wasn’t anything left that she could do to hurt her.
She hoped.
Rage unfurled within Cara at the unfairness of it all. Why did this woman get to enjoy herself when she had to sit here worrying about her future?
As she watched Amber make her stately way up the aisle towards a rather nervous-looking Jack, she could barely concentrate for wondering what Max was going to say to her once they were facing each other over their garlic mushrooms at the lunch afterwards. There was no way she was going to be able to force down a bite of food until they’d resolved this.
Oh, get a grip, Cara.
When she dared take a peek at him from the corner of her eye again, he seemed to be grimly staring straight ahead. Forcing herself to relax, she uncrossed her legs, then her arms and sat up straighter, determined not to appear anxious or pitiful. She knew what she had to do. There would be no gratuitous begging or bartering for a reprieve. She would hold her head high throughout it all and calmly state her case.
And until she had that opportunity she was going to damn well enjoy watching her friend get married.
* * *
Judging by her rigid posture and ashen complexion, Cara really didn’t appear to be enjoying the ceremony, which only increased Max’s discomfort at being there, too. Not that he blamed her in any way for it. He’d chosen to come here with her after all. Though, from the sound of it, she must be regretting bringing him along now.
Had he really been so unapproachable that she’d chosen to lie to his face instead of admitting to having a rough time at her last place of work?
He sighed inwardly.
She was absolutely right, though. Again. He could be intimidating. And he’d been at the peak of his remoteness when she’d first arrived on his doorstep and asked him for a job. He also knew that if she’d mentioned the personal issues that had been intrinsic to her leaving her last job when they’d first met it would have given him pause enough to turn her away. He hadn’t wanted any kind of complication at that point.
But he was so glad now that he hadn’t.
Somehow, in her innocent passive-aggressive way, she’d managed to push his buttons and, even though he’d fought it at the time, that was exactly what he’d needed.
She was what he’d needed.
After the ceremony finished they were immediately ushered out of the church and straight up the sweeping manicured driveway to the front of a grand Georgian house where an enormous canvas marquee had been set up next to the orangery.
A small affair, his foot.
As soon as they stepped inside they had toxic-coloured cocktails thrust upon them and were politely but firmly asked to make their way back outside again to the linen-draped tables on the terrace next to the house.
‘This is like a military operation,’ he muttered to Cara, who had walked quietly next to him since they’d left the church, her face pale and her expression serious. She gave him a weak smile, her eyes darting from side to side as if she was seriously contemplating making a run for it and scoping out the best means of escape.
He sighed. ‘Come and sit down over here where it’s quiet,’ he said, looping his arm through hers and guiding her towards one of the empty tables nearest the house.
To his frustration she stiffened, then slipped out of his steadying grip and folded her arms across her chest instead, her shoulders rigid and her chin firmly up as they walked. Just as they picked their way over the last bit of gravelled path to reach the table she stumbled and on reflex he quickly moved in to catch her.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, placing a hand on the exposed part of her back, feeling the heat of her body warm the palm of his hand and send an echoing sensation through his entire abdomen.
His touch seemed to undo something in her and she collapsed into the nearest chair and gave him such a fearful look his heart jumped into his throat.
‘I’m sorry for lying to you, Max. Please don’t fire me. If I lose this job I’ll have to move back to Cornwall and I really, really don’t want to leave London. It’s my home and I love it. I can’t imagine living anywhere else now. And I really like working for you.’ Swallowing hard, she gave him a small quavering smile. ‘I swear I will never lie to you again. Believe it or not, I usually have a rock-solid moral compass and if I hadn’t felt backed into a corner I never would have twisted the truth. I was on the cusp of losing everything and I was desperate, Max. Totally. Desperate.’ She punctuated each of the last words with a slap of her hand on the table.
‘Cara, I’m not going to fire you.’
How could she think that he would? Good grief, had he done such a number on her that she’d think he’d be capable of something as heartless as that?
‘You’re not?’ Her eyes shone in the reflected brightness thrown up by the white tablecloth and he looked away while she blinked back threatening tears.
‘Of course not.’ He shifted forward in his seat, closer to her. ‘You well and truly proved your worth to the business last week.’ He waited till she looked at him again. ‘I have to admit, I’m hurt that you thought I’d fire you for admitting to being bullied.’ He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. ‘God, you must think I’m a real tool if you seriously believed I’d do something like that.’
‘It’s just—you can be a bit...fierce...sometimes. And I didn’t want to show any weakness.’ She visibly cringed as she said it, and his insides plummeted.
‘Tell me more about what happened at your last job,’ he said quietly, wanting to get things completely straight between them, but not wanting to spook her further in the process.
Her gaze slid away. ‘It’s not a happy tale, or something I’m particularly proud of.’
‘No. I got that impression.’
‘Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t judge me too harshly. Things like this always look so simple and manageable from a distance, but when you’re in the thick of it, it’s incredibly difficult to think straight without letting your emotions get in the way.’
He held up his hands, palms forward, and affected a non-judgemental expression.
She nodded and sat up straighter. ‘I thought I’d hit the jackpot when I was offered that position. Ugh! What an idiot,’ she said, her self-conscious grimace making
