AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That was different. Partly because he’d been drinking all day, but mostly because everyone danced at weddings. It wasn’t the same as slow-dancing with a handsy older woman, while being watched by his smirking granny and a delighted-looking Rowan, who was humming along to the music. ‘They don’t make music like the good old days,’ he said, tapping his foot to the rhythm.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I quite like a bit of Stormzy myself.’ Esme caught Calvin’s eye. ‘I’ve been known to vossi bop.’
Smiling, Calvin remembered his sister’s wedding reception; it was a sight he’d never forget.
‘Maybe not so good to foxtrot to, though,’ Esme said, reaching for her wine.
‘Your great-uncle and I used to dance like this,’ Geraldine said, tightening her grip. ‘He was a spectacular dancer. Knew all the right moves.’ She tilted her head up. ‘I do miss him, you know.’Tears pooled in her eyes and Calvin felt mean for resenting dancing with her. He resigned himself to finishing the dance, praying her hands would stay on his back and not wander any lower.
When the song ended, he freed himself from Geraldine’s clasp and made his excuses to leave. ‘I’d better check on Kate,’ he said, heading for the door. ‘Enjoy your evening, everyone.’
‘Who am I going to dance with now?’ Geraldine called after him.
‘I’ll dance with you, Geraldine.’ Rowan got up and offered her his hand. ‘Shall we?’
Calvin left them to their dancing and headed for the library.
It was unsurprising to find Kate still working at gone nine p.m. The woman was relentless. She rarely took a break, and even when she did, it was only because Esme or Geraldine insisted that she eat something. He probably should do more to ensure her wellbeing, but he was so busy that he barely had time to speak to her… which was just an excuse.
Until Tuesday morning, he’d had no problem chatting to her. It was true he found her attractive, but there hadn’t been any awkwardness between them. He’d helped her with logging the estate assets and answered any questions she had. But from the moment she’d walked in on him getting out of the shower, he’d avoided her. He didn’t know why – he guessed he was just embarrassed.
He’d felt exposed and vulnerable, standing there naked, which wasn’t logical. As a footballer, getting his kit off in front of people was part of everyday life. But somehow this was different: she wasn’t a teammate or a disinterested physio carrying out medical checks – she was a smart, professional, attractive woman who was working for him. So when she’d flushed bright red, gawped at him and stumbled from the room like he had twoheads, his self-esteem had taken another blow. But he couldn’t avoid her forever.
As he entered the library, for a moment he couldn’t work out where she was… until she yelped. He looked up to find her swinging from one of the bookcase doors. ‘Jesus! Don’t let go,’ he said, grabbing the stepladders and rolling them under her.
‘Oh, great advice,’ she yelled down, her voice drier than sandpaper. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. Silly me.’
Okay, so she was mad. It was hardly his fault, was it? He climbed up the ladder and grabbed hold of her legs. ‘Why didn’t you use the stepladders?’
She growled and twisted her head to make eye contact with him. ‘Of course I used the bloody stepladders, I’m not an idiot.’
He was eye level with her midriff, looking up at her angry expression. Her cheeks were pink and she was breathing heavily. ‘Then how come they weren’t underneath you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe because the bloody things moved.’
‘Moved?’
‘Yes, moved. One moment they were under me, the next they’d shifted out of reach.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe you knocked them?’
‘Or maybe they have a mind of their own. Like the window that keeps banging open, or the picture on the wall that keeps winking at me.’
Tiredness was affecting her mental state, clearly. ‘Winking at you?’
‘Yes, you know…’ She blinked at him furiously and he tried not to laugh. ‘Like someone is toying with my sanity and deliberately trying to sabotage my efforts to catalogue this bloody estate.’
She nodded at the painting, which remained just as it was: an ancient portrait of a pompous army general, his expression static.
She growled again. ‘Typical, he’s not going to do it now that there’s someone else in the room. That’s right,’ she yelled at the painting. ‘Make me out to be unhinged. Thanks for that.’
‘Kate…?’ He waited until she looked at him. She was teetering on the verge of a meltdown, and he wasn’t sure he could hold on to her if she collapsed. ‘How about we climb down and get you on solid ground?’
Her frown didn’t let up as she stared at him, her light blue eyes fixed on his, slightly unfocused. ‘You think I’m a crazy person, don’t you?’
‘I think you’ve been working crazy hours,’ he said, trying to be tactful. ‘You’re tired and stressed, and I’ll bet you haven’t stopped for a break all day. Your hands are freezing and you’re shaking. Nobody can keep going the way you do. It’s time you stopped for the night, okay?’
She gave a reluctant nod. ‘But the stepladders did move, I’m not making it up.’
