Breaking the Boss's Rules

Imogen stilled, her eyes widening in shock as she stretched her hand across the table. He let it lie. He needed to focus on getting the facts out—there was no need for sympathy along the way.

‘Joe. I am so sorry. I had no idea. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. But it must have been devastating for you. For you all. Your sisters …’

‘It was a difficult time.’ Not that he had any intention of going into detail; the lid was not coming off that buried box of emotions. ‘For me, for the twins, and for Leila as well.’

Imogen frowned. ‘Difficult for Leila how?’

‘I made it difficult. I had to grow up fast and I put pressure on her to do the same.’

‘The twins?’

‘Yes. It got complicated. Holly and Tammy were eleven; I was twenty-one.’ Twenty-one with a promising surfing career ahead—not exactly parent-equivalent material. ‘There were no relatives on the scene so Social Services intervened, questioned whether I could look after them or whether they would be better off in care.’ The taste of remembered fear that his sisters would be wrested from him coated his throat. ‘Obviously there was no way I could let them go but … that was tough for Leila to understand.’

Imogen scrunched up her nose in clear disapproval. ‘So Leila jumped ship?’

‘Yes. No discredit to her. She was twenty-one as well—she didn’t want to settle down and raise two grieving, rebellious pre-teens who didn’t even like her.’

Her shoulders hitched in a shrug. ‘Hmm … Call me dim, but I don’t get how that makes you owe her?’

‘Because I didn’t take her ship-jumping very well. I was desperate for us to stay together.’

He’d been a mess of confusion, frustration, fear and anger as he’d watched the life he’d thought he had unravel—as he’d realised everything he’d believed his parents to be had been an illusion. The idea that everything he’d thought he and Leila had was another fantasy had been hard to get a handle on.

‘I thought love should conquer all and a woman should stand by her man. I believed that being in a stable relationship would help me in my case for winning custody of the twins.’

Her blue-grey eyes held an understanding he didn’t merit.

‘That seems more than reasonable, Joe. You must have been terrified and grieving and shocked. You needed your girlfriend’s support.’

‘Unfortunately I wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders, so I wasn’t at home to reason. First I proposed marriage.’ He gave a small mirthless laugh as he remembered his frenzied planning and his clumsy stupidity. The candlelit dinner, the violins, the ring bought with scraped-together money he’d ill been able to afford. ‘Leila refused to marry me and I … Well, I reacted badly.’

Imogen rose and walked round the table to sit beside him, placed a warm hand over his and held on when he tried to pull away.

‘Save your sympathy. Believe me, I don’t deserve it. I made Leila’s life hell. I couldn’t let it go. I begged, threatened, hounded her. I tried character assassination tactics and I made wild promises. The works.’ Shame seared his gut, along with the bitter memory of his abject neediness. ‘In the end she threatened me with a restraining order and I forced myself to back off before the custody case went down the pan. So, you see, I do owe her.’

Imogen’s hand tightened over his. ‘You’re being pretty hard on yourself. You were in a bad place then, coping with a lot of emotions.’

‘That didn’t give me the right to stuff up someone else’s life.’

‘That’s plain dramatic.’

‘I wish. Leila has invited me to her wedding because her therapist has recommended it so she can have closure and truly move on in life with her husband. Turns out she’s been racked with guilt all these years and it’s prevented her from forming relationships. Even now she’s had to work extremely hard in therapy to believe herself worthy of love.’

‘Joe, this all sounds a bit screwy to me. Wouldn’t it be more sensible for the two of you to meet up in private, not at her wedding? Talk it through?’

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Apparently her wedding is symbolic for both of us. She’s the injured party here—I’ll do whatever it takes to help her to find closure. I did send her a letter years ago, to apologise and let her know I’d won custody of the twins. I guess she never got it. I guess I should have tried harder to make amends. But, whichever way I look at it, the least I can do is go to the wedding. Not because I have any feelings left for her but because I owe her. Question is: will you come with me?’

There was a million-squillion-dollar question if ever there was one. Could she survive three days in the Algarve with Joe? Forget days—what about the nights? What about the posing-as-loving-girlfriend factor?

Emotions swirled round Imogen’s stomach and questions whirled around her brain. Overriding everything was the instinct just to say yes. Because her heart was torn by what Joe had told her and the tragedy he’d gone through. Because her chest warmed with admiration for the way he had fought to look after his sisters, his decision to take on a responsibility far beyond his years. And because she was damn sure Leila wasn’t as injured as all that—something was off … she was sure of it.

But somehow she had to retain perspective.

She released his hand and picked up a piece of pizza—more for show than out of hunger. ‘I’m not sure lying to Leila is the way forward. You’d be better to talk it all through.’

A barely repressed shudder greeted this suggestion—she’d swear his gills had paled further.

‘Wouldn’t work. I’ve tried for the past three weeks to convince her I’m perfectly happy as I am and that she has no need to feel bad. I’ve got nowhere. Leila needs to see me gallop off into the sunset to my own Happy Ever After.’