Wedding Night

Wedding Night Page 88

“It’s tremendous. I need to talk to you.” His dark eyes are opaque as they meet mine, and my heart jumps in trepidation.

“Right. OK. But maybe this isn’t the place—”

“Both of you,” he cuts across me, taking in Richard with his glance too. “I’m flying out to Ikonos for good reason. I have some important business to discuss with Ben. He needs to be focused. So if you’re planning to yell at him or beat him up or steal his wife from him, or whatever you’re going to do, I have a request. Please leave it till our meeting is over. Then he’s all yours.”

I feel an instant surge of resentment.

“That’s all you have to say?” I jut out my chin.

“Yes.”

“You’re only interested in your business. Not in the fact that you caused this marriage?”

“I did not cause it,” he retaliates. “And of course the business is my priority.”

“ ‘Of course’?” I echo sarcastically. “Business is more important than marriage? Interesting viewpoint.”

“Right now, yes. And it needs to be Ben’s priority too.”

“Well, don’t worry.” I roll my eyes. “We’re not going to beat him up.”

“I might beat him up.” Richard pounds his palm with his fist. “I might just do that.”

The elderly lady sitting next to me looks appalled. “Excuse me,” she says hurriedly to Lorcan. “Would you like to exchange seats so you can talk to your friends?”

“No, thank you,” I begin, as Lorcan says, “Thank you so much.”

Great. A minute later, Lorcan is buckling up his seat belt next to me while I stare studiously ahead. Just the sense of him so close to me is making my skin prickle. I can smell his aftershave. It’s giving me Proustian flashbacks to that night, which are really not helpful.

“So,” I say shortly. It’s only one syllable, but I think it successfully conveys the message: You’re wrong on everything, from who’s to blame for this marriage, to what exactly I meant that morning, to your priorities generally.

“So,” he replies with a curt nod. I have a feeling he means much the same thing.

“So.” I open my newspaper. I’m hereby going to ignore him for the whole flight.

The only trouble is, I can’t help glancing over at his laptop every so often and seeing phrases that interest me. Richard and Noah are listening to the iPod together while Noah makes inroads into his lollipops. There’s no one else to talk to, even if he is an arrogant bighead on the other team.

“So, what’s going on?” I say at last, with a shrug to indicate I’m really not interested.

“We’re rationalizing the company,” says Lorcan after a pause. “Expanding one part of our business, refinancing another, jettisoning another. It all needs to be done. The paper industry these days—”

“Nightmare,” I agree before I can stop myself. “The price of paper affects us too.”

“Of course. The magazine.” He nods. “Well, then, you’ll know.”

The two of us are making a connection again. I don’t know if this is a mistake or not, but somehow I can’t help it. It’s such a relief to have someone to talk to who isn’t my boss or my staff or my child or my ex-husband or my loopy little sister. He doesn’t need anything from me. That’s the difference. He’s just sitting there, composed, as though he doesn’t give a fuck.

“I read online you developed Papermaker,” I say. “That was you?”

“My brainchild.” He shrugs. “Others more talented than me design the stuff.”

“I like Papermaker,” I allow. “Nice cards. Expensive.”

“But you still buy them.” He gives me a tiny grin.

“For now,” I retaliate. “Till I find another brand.”

“Touché.” He winces and I give him a sidelong look. Maybe that was a bit harsh.

“Are you actually in trouble?” Even as I ask, I know it’s an inane question. Everyone’s in trouble right now. “I mean, real trouble?”

“We’re at a junction.” He exhales. “It’s a tricky time. Ben’s dad died with no warning, and we’ve been treading water ever since. We need to make a few brave decisions.” He hesitates. “The right brave decisions.”

“Ah.” I consider this. “Do you mean Ben has to make the right brave decisions?”

“You catch on quickly.”

“And is he likely to? You can tell me. I won’t let on.” I pause, wondering whether to be tactful or not. “Are you about to go bust?”