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James stepped away from Garrett towards the door. ‘Let me just finish my call.’ He strode out, a finger stuck in his other ear. ‘Estelle? You there?’
She wasn’t.
He rang her back. It cut off after two rings.
Trying again, it went straight to voicemail.
Fuck.
32
From: James Hunter-Savage
To: Garrett Ross
Subject: Apologies
Garrett,
I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our meetings today and leave directly for Somerset. Yesterday gave me a good handle on the product and your vision for it. I’m confident I can deliver the growth you want.
If you’d like a couple of VIP tickets for this weekend, I can arrange them for you. Just let me know.
Kind regards and thank you for your time yesterday,
James
Sunshine radiated through the window onto James’s hands as the train tore past Reading. After the torrential rain that had sunk the stage, the British summer had done an about-face and was delivering the kind of heat that broke air conditioning units and shop fridges.
Pulling the collar of his shirt away from the back of his neck, James continued hacking his way through the perpetual forest of emails that clogged his inbox. Next year, he needed a PA.
Next year? He shook his head. Was there going to be a next year? They were currently struggling to pull off a this year, let alone think about the future.
And anyway, he’d be working for Garrett, or another company like Conqueror, not running the festival with Estelle. Where would he be living? Now he was finally off the hook with the insider trading charges, he could move back into his flat when his tenant’s lease was up. But the thought of living there without Estelle was jarring.
He hadn’t heard back from her, despite leaving a voice message letting her know he didn’t go to the club and was cutting his trip short.
Pentangle… James knew it well. It was extremely exclusive and high end, with stage shows that mixed burlesque with the kind of interactive performances you’d expect from a Bangkok sex club. When he’d been at Conqueror, James’s clients had lapped it up. Literally.
James couldn’t stand the place. It was titillation for the monied classes. It didn’t matter that as many women as men went there, it still felt tawdry.
But that didn’t stop you taking clients there, did it?
They wanted to go.
So what?
Dropping his phone to the table, he bowed his head. The last few months in China had been hell, and now, in the run-up to the festival opening, it was like being in the middle of a hurricane. He just had to ride it out until the end, then hope Estelle was still with him.
Girlfriend. It was what he wanted her to be, however uttering the word to Garrett first had been every level of wrong. If James had thought Henry was the biggest obstacle to him and Estelle being together, then he’d just pushed Henry to second place with one word.
When he’d been accused of insider trading and sacked from Conqueror, it seemed like his life was falling apart. But inside his skin, he was still James Hunter-Savage, confident and self-assured. He knew he would find a way back to his old life.
But now? Estelle had pulled on one thread of his being and then another, unravelling him until he didn’t know who he really was anymore or where he was meant to be.
He knew he could live in Somerset, commute when he needed to by train, fly abroad from Bristol airport, work remotely as much as he could. But did she want him as much as he wanted her? Or would everything in their past always come between them?
Driving out of the station car park, James’s Ferrari purred as if delighted to see him again. Running his hand over the soft leather of the steering wheel, James’s heart tugged with a sense of loss. The car had symbolised his success, but time never stood still, and now he had to make a change.
