Читать книгу Lucie’s Vintage Cupcake Company - Daisy James - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Silence spread into every corner of the room and reverberated back into her ears. She wobbled on her knee as Alex let go of her hand and averted his eyes, his mouth twisting in discomfort. He ran his fingertips through his blond quiff and they came to rest on his lips. They were shaking. She’d never seen cool, calm, controlled Alex look so uncomfortable.

What was happening? a small voice in her head queried.

She shot a glance over Alex’s shoulder to Yolande. Only when she saw the smile drain from her lips and her cheeks acquire a faintly reddening hue did the answer came crashing down around her like a shower of ice. Her stomach dropped like a slab of concrete down a well and raced back up to lodge painfully in her throat. She opened her mouth to say something but a strange croaking sound was all she could manage.

‘Alex?’

‘Mmm…?’

‘Alex, say something.’

‘Erm… let me help you up.’ He reached for her arm and drew her to standing, but let go of her immediately, as though touching her skin had scalded his flesh. He slotted his hands into his suit pockets and began to flap his elbows, a sure sign he was mortified and keen to extricate himself from the awkward situation as quickly as possible.

‘Alex, I’ve just asked you to marry me. This is the part where you hug me, kiss me and tell me how excited you are! Aren’t you even going to answer me?’

‘Lucie, I’m… erm… well, I’m flattered…’ He glanced nervously over his shoulder to where Greg had tucked his arm around Yolande’s waist and guided her to a cabinet of jewel-encrusted carriage clocks, mumbling exclamations of interest, clearly embarrassed.

‘Flattered? You’re flattered?’

Her voice came out an octave higher than she’d expected and she could feel her cheeks glowing with the fiery heat of mortification.

The sales assistant peeled away from Brett Coulson and went to assist Greg and Yolande, nervously recounting the features of the pieces they were browsing. Brett caught her eye and stepped forward, smooth and unruffled, as though this sort of thing happened at Tiffany’s every day.

‘Miss Bradshaw, Mr Morgan, perhaps you would like to avail yourselves of one of our private consultation rooms. If you’ll just follow…’

‘No! Thank you.’ Lucie gulped back the pressing tsunami of tears. She turned to Alex. ‘You don’t want to marry me, do you?’

‘Look, Luce, I think we need to talk about such a serious commitment before we make any promises, you know… It’s a bit sudden, that’s all.’ Then, to her amazement, he lowered his voice and leant towards her, gesturing over his shoulder. ‘Why on earth did you have to invite them?’

‘Is that all you can say? Your girlfriend has just arranged for Tiffany’s to stay open late so she could propose to you on the precise spot she met you and all you can think of to say is that you wish I hadn’t invited Greg and Yolande?’

Tears gathered along her lower lashes as the truth became crystal-clear and a metal vice began to crush the air from her lungs. Her peripheral vision seemed to recede and then rush back at her and she reached out to grasp the display counter to steady herself. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath and the lack of oxygen had caused her head to feel fuzzy. As the tears trickled down her cheeks, she surveyed the man she loved with every cell of her body – in a matter of seconds he had morphed into a total stranger.

‘So your answer is no, then?’

‘I didn’t say that, Lucie,’ Alex said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

‘But you didn’t say yes.’

And in his silence her whole world crumbled. Seeing the embarrassment on Alex’s face was almost more than she could bear. An involuntary sob escaped from her throat. She clutched her stomach with her arm and doubled over as a slash of pain hit her squarely in the solar plexus.

‘Lucie, I’m sorry. If I’d known you were planning… well, all this…’ He swung his palm around her personal idea of retail paradise, still unable to meet her eyes.

‘Go away. Just leave me alone,’ she spluttered more harshly than she’d intended, her eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched.

Alex stepped away from her as though he’d been slapped and Lucie felt even worse. She saw the discomfort written boldly on his handsome features. He was terrified she was about to cause a scene in front of his boss. That was something Alex abhorred – women who showed their emotions in public were to be pitied. She saw him flash a hand gesture to Yolande and after that her senses became muddled. She felt Yolande link arms with her, mutter an incomprehensible but soothing stream of random words into her ear and watched as Alex disappeared from her life without a backward glance. She vaguely heard Yolande politely thank Brett for his assistance before steering her into the darkness of the street outside to allow the manager to lock the door behind them.

The fresh air hit her brain but her body still endured a cauldron of emotions – mortification and embarrassment at her public rejection, shock and confusion at Alex’s reaction, and pain, a sharp raw pain coursing through her veins, sparkling out to her fingertips before jettisoning back up to her chest where it gathered in a heavy armour of lead weight.

She was grateful for Yolande’s support, physical and emotional, as they waited at the kerb for a taxi. Her mind was so crowded with unanswered questions she was unable to formulate speech, either to ask for her opinion on what had just transpired or to thank her for her kindness. She was vaguely aware of being bundled into the back of a cab, but not before she noticed, incongruously, that it had stopped raining and the sky had taken on a smooth, infinite mantle of black silk which pressed down onto her shoulders and wrapped its fabric around her body, inducing a feeling of claustrophobic panic.

‘Here.’ Yolande handed her a packet of fragrant tissues and enveloped her hands with her own. ‘I’m so sorry, Lucie. So, so sorry that happened to you. I don’t know what Alex was thinking. Perhaps it was the surprise; perhaps when he’s had chance to think things through...’

Lucie stared at Yolande, at her carefully made-up face creased in genuine concern, and found her voice at last. ‘He doesn’t love me. If he did, he would have said yes straightaway, wouldn’t he?’

Sadness now took the place of shame and descended like a tepid shower. Yolande didn’t reply and they sat in silence until the taxi drew up in front of the building that housed the apartment she shared with Alex. The windows on the third floor were in darkness – just like her world. She glanced at her watch and was astonished to see that less than an hour had passed since she’d left the restaurant, her life on an upward spiral, consumed with happiness and excitement for her future. How was she going to explain what had happened to Gino, Antonio and Sofia? She knew Francesca wouldn’t care as long as it didn’t affect her ability to create culinary artistry.

Why did life have to toss such random grenades into the path of the unsuspecting? What was she going to do? She couldn’t continue to live with Alex after what had happened. But she knew there would be a sofa for her at Steph and Hollie’s flat in Wimbledon. And there was always Jess in Richmond if she could endure the commute and being mauled on a daily basis by her two young nephews. She’d better start packing.

‘Want me to come up with you?’

Lucie liked Yolande, but even in her pain-infused state she caught the tremor of dread in the woman’s voice. ‘No, but thanks for… well, for bringing me home.’

‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?’

‘I’m fine…’

‘I’ll get Greg to talk to Alex… Perhaps if…’

‘No, please don’t do that. Greg is Alex’s boss. It’s better to keep this between the two of us. I don’t want it to affect Alex’s chance at partnership.’

‘Well, if you’re sure…’

‘Bye, Yolande.’

Lucie slammed the door and the cab sped away, its red tail lights shimmering like cat’s eyes growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared round the corner. She had a feeling of absolute certainty that she would never see Yolande, or Greg, again.

Would her premonition extend to Alex, too?