His gaze shot to hers and she was alarmed to see him frown. ‘Three years,’ he said, with a clip of finality to his voice, as if wanting to make it clear he didn’t want to discuss the subject any more.
Okay then.
From the atmosphere that now hummed between them, you’d have thought she’d asked him how much cold hard cash he’d laid down for the place. Perhaps people did ask him that regularly and he was fed up with answering it. Or maybe he thought she’d ask for a bigger wage if she thought he was loaded.
Whatever the reason, his frostiness had now totally destroyed her appetite, so she was pushing the couscous around her plate when Max stood up, making her jump in her seat.
‘Let me know how much I owe you for lunch and I’ll get it out of petty cash before you leave,’ he said, turning abruptly on the spot and heading over to the dishwasher to load his empty plate into it.
His movements were jerky and fast, as if he was really irritated about something now.
It couldn’t be her, could it?
No.
Could it?
He must just be keen to get back to work.
As soon as he left the room, she let out the breath she’d been holding, feeling the tension in her neck muscles release a little.
The words frying pan and fire flitted through her head, but she dismissed them. If he was a friend of Poppy’s he couldn’t be that bad. She must have just caught him on a bad day. And, as her friend Sarah had pointed out after she’d cried on her shoulder about making a mess of her recent job interviews, she was bound to be prone to paranoia after her last experience.
Once she’d cleared up in the kitchen, Cara got straight back to work, using the link Max gave her to log in to his online diary and work through his travel requirements for the next month. His former ire seemed to have abated somewhat and their interaction from that point onwards was more relaxed, but still very professional. Blessedly, concentrating on the work soothed her and the headache that had started at the end of lunch began to lift as she worked methodically through her tasks.
Mid-afternoon, Max broke off from writing his document for a couple of minutes to outline some research he wanted her to do on a few businesses he was considering targeting. To her frustration, she had to throw every molecule of energy into making scrupulous notes in order to keep focused on the task in hand and not on the way Max’s masculine scent made her senses reel and her skin heat with awareness every time he leaned closer to point something out on the computer they were huddled around.
That was something she was going to have to conquer if they continued to work together, which hopefully they would. She definitely couldn’t afford a crush on her boss to get in the way of her recuperating future.
After finally being released from the duress of his unnerving presence, she spent the remainder of the day happily surfing the internet and collating the information into a handy crib sheet for him, revelling in the relief of getting back into a mindset she’d taken for granted until about six months ago, before her whole working life had been turned inside out.
At five-thirty she both printed out the document and emailed it to him, then gathered up her coat and bag, feeling as though she’d done her first good day’s work in a long time.
Approaching his desk, she cleared her throat and laid the printout onto it, trying not to stare at the way his muscles moved beneath his slim-fitting shirt while she waited for him to finish what he was typing. Tearing her eyes away from his broad back, she took the opportunity to look at his hands instead, noting with a strange satisfaction that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring on his long, strong-looking fingers.
Okay, not married then. But surely he must have a girlfriend. She couldn’t imagine someone as attractive as Max being single.
He stopped typing and swivelled round in his chair to face her, startling her out of her musings and triggering a strange throb, low in her body.
‘You’ve done well today; I’m impressed,’ he said, giving her a slow nod.
She couldn’t stop her mouth from springing up into a full-on grin. It had been a long while since she’d been complimented on her work and it felt ridiculously good.
‘Thank you—I’ve really enjoyed it.’
His raised eyebrow told her she’d been a bit over-effusive with that statement, but he unfolded his arms and dipped his head thoughtfully.
‘If you’re still interested, I’m willing to go ahead with the one-month trial.’
Her squeak of delight made him blink. ‘I can’t promise there’ll be a full-time job at the end of it, though,’ he added quickly.
She nodded. ‘Okay, I understand.’ She’d just have to make sure she’d made herself indispensable by the end of the month.
He then named a weekly wage that made her heart leap with excitement. With money like that she could afford to stay in London and keep on renting her flat.
‘I’ll see you here at nine tomorrow then,’ he concluded, turning back to his computer screen.
‘Great. Nine o’clock tomorrow,’ she repeated, smiling at the back of his head and retreating out of the room.
She floated out of the house on a cloud of joy, desperate to get home so she could phone her landlord and tell him she was going to be able to make next month’s rent so he didn’t need to find a new tenant for her flat.
It was all going to be okay now; she could feel it.
Back in her flat, she dialled her landlord’s number and he answered with a brusque, ‘Yes.’
‘Dominic—it’s Cara Winstone. I’m calling with good news. I’ve just started at a new job so I’ll be able to renew my lease on your property in Islington.’
There was a silence at the end of the phone, followed by a long sigh. ‘Sorry, Cara, but I’ve already promised my nephew he can move in at the end of the week. I got the impression you wouldn’t be able to afford the rent any more and I’ve kept it pitifully low for the last couple of years already. I can’t afford to sub you any more.’
Fear and anger made her stomach sink and a suffocating heat race over her skin as she fully took in what he’d just said. He was such a liar. He’d been hiking the rent up year on year until she’d felt as if she was being totally fleeced, but she hadn’t wanted the hassle of moving out of her comfortable little flat so she’d sucked it up. Until she wasn’t able to any more.
‘Can’t you tell your nephew that your current tenant has changed her mind?’ Even as she said it she knew what his answer was going to be.
‘No. I can’t. You had your chance to renew. I couldn’t wait any longer and my nephew was having trouble finding somewhere suitable to live. It’s a cut-throat rental market in London at the moment.’
That was something she was about to find out herself, she felt sure of it.
‘Do you have anywhere else available to rent at the moment?’ she asked, desperately grasping for some glimmer of a solution.
‘No. Sorry.’
He didn’t sound sorry, she noted with another sting of anger.
‘You’ve got till the end of the week, then I want you out,’ he continued. ‘Make sure the place is in a good state when you leave or I’ll have to withhold your damage deposit.’ And, with that, he put the phone down on her.
It took a few minutes of hanging her head between her knees for the dizziness to abate and for her erratic heartbeat to return to normal.
Okay, this was just a setback. She could handle it.
Just because it would be hard to find a decent flat to rent in London