more than half his mind was elsewhere. ‘No, thank you.’
‘A warm towel?’ pressed the flight attendant, trying hard.
‘Nothing.’ He corrected that. ‘You’ll give me everything I need if you just keep other people away.’
He had caught sight of several British delegates from the conference in the airport. He could just see them grabbing the chance of a transatlantic flight to buttonhole him. Experience had taught him that someone always wanted advice they didn’t listen to or the name of contacts whom they misused.
He said with feeling, ‘I’d really appreciate some peace.’
‘You’ve got it,’ said the flight attendant, relieved.
Steven worked until long after the attendants had put out the cabin lights and his fellow passengers had composed themselves for sleep. He finished making notes on the monthly statements of Kplant, dictated two memos and a letter, and then skimmed the agenda for the next college meeting. Finishing that, he looked at his watch. Space for two hours’ sleep if he was sensible.
And I’m always sensible, thought Steven wryly. With two jobs, three titles and more responsibilities than he could shake a stick at, he had to be.
He stretched out on the wonder of a first-class transcontinental airline bed and clicked off his overhead light. He was asleep in seconds.
Pepper had never flown coach before. It was an experience, she thought grimly.
The seat was uncomfortably tight. The woman in the next seat kept jabbing her in the ribs and maintained an agitated monologue until she finally fell asleep. And in the row behind a party of young entrepreneurs were drinking and laughing loudly about some conference they had been to in New York. By the time the cabin crew had finally settled them down Pepper knew that sleep was hopeless.
Suppose that’s the price of running away, she told herself, with an attempt at humour. No more business class for you.
Only it didn’t make her laugh. Not even smile. In fact she felt her stomach clench as if she had just swallowed a glassful of ice. And not because of the loss of luxury.
I am not running away. I am not running away.
Pepper winced. Even in her head she sounded defensive.
Who are you kidding, Pepper? Of course you’re running away!
She shivered—then pulled the thin flight blanket up to her chin. It made her feel a bit warmer but it did not stop the inner turmoil.
She had always known that crossing her grandmother was a risk. But she had never suspected the lengths that Mary Ellen would go to.
Because I still thought I was her little princess! I thought she loved me. What an idiot I was. What a blind, naïve idiot. And I thought I was so street-smart!
Mary Ellen’s revenge had not been subtle. It had been fast.
Within two days of their secret meeting Pepper had notice to quit her apartment. Well, she had expected that; her grandmother had rented it to her in the first place. She had not expected to find her appointment diary suddenly emptying. Or the company that rented her office space suddenly demanding that she pay a year’s rent up-front or leave in a week. Or to have her platinum credit card suddenly withdrawn.
She had tried to speak to Mary Ellen. But her grandmother had refused to take her calls. So Pepper had gone to the Calhoun Carter building.
Mary Ellen refused to see her. More, she’d kept her waiting for half an hour, then had the security force escort her from the building under guard.
Pepper had not believed it. ‘Why?’ she had said to Mary Ellen’s PA. She had known Carmen all her life.
Carmen had tears in her eyes but she did not stop the uniformed guards.
‘Everyone will think I’ve been stealing from her,’ Pepper said, still too bewildered to be indignant.
Carmen looked as if she were going to cry in earnest. ‘That’s why.’
‘You mean—’ Pepper struggled with it. ‘This is a publicity stunt?’
‘Mrs Calhoun says you want independence, you’ve got it.’ Carmen sounded as if she had learned it off by heart. And as if she were eating glass.
‘You mean she wants to destroy my credibility,’ said Pepper slowly. ‘Oh, Carmen!’
The PA blew her nose. ‘Better go quietly, Pepper. You don’t want to make the evening news.’
So Pepper went.
She went back to her apartment, sat down and made a list of what she had got going for her. It was frighteningly little—a good business brain, a wardrobe of executive suits, enough money to live for six months if she was careful, and the ability to speak three languages. Oh, and a really good project in Out of the Attic. Only her grandmother was going to make sure that Out of the Attic never came to market.
She was packing when the doorbell rang. She checked through the spy hole. Ed?
She opened the door. ‘What do you want, Ed?’ she said wearily.
He divested himself of his overcoat and sat down on the sofa, taking her with him. He took her hand and held onto it.
Pepper snatched it back. ‘You don’t have to look like that. Nobody died.’
But Ed went on looking honest and remorseful.
‘Not yet. But your career is damn nearly gone,’ he said frankly. ‘Why don’t you make it up with Mary Ellen? It’s crazy to throw away Calhoun Carter for a whim. You were born for business.’
Pepper flinched. ‘And not for Prince Charming,’ she said savagely.
Ed was disconcerted. ‘What?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Will you tell me something, Ed?’
‘If I can.’
‘When we went out together—was I a mercy date?’
He hesitated just a fraction too long.
So her grandmother had not lied. Pepper had hoped against hope that it was one of Mary Ellen’s snaky tricks. But clearly it was the simple truth.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘Goodbye, Ed.’
It was a night when Pepper despaired. She had never felt more lonely in her life.
It was also the night that she decided. She had to go somewhere nobody would care that she was Mary Ellen Calhoun’s granddaughter. And if that looked like running away, tough.
She put her life in order faster than she would have believed possible. She got rid of furniture. Gave away her books and CDs. Said goodbye to the two or three people who would care and was out of the apartment before Mary Ellen could send in someone in uniform to evict her.
So this was where she found out
