Page 26 of Loving Jemima

Rolly shrugged. “You said she didn’t acknowledge that you’d met at all, right?”

“Not even a glimmer of recognition.”

“Well, we were at a club. Perhaps she was drunk, or she’d taken something. Maybe she really doesn’t remember you.”

Jem bit her lip. “Maybe,” she said. “I wish I could be sure.”

“I don’t think you’re going to get certainty,” Rolly said. “But given that she didn’t react or say anything, I’d say there’s a fair chance that she won’t. I mean, maybe she does recognize you but she has her own reasons for not saying anything. You’re not the only one keeping secrets, Miss Puddleduck.”

Jem groaned at the nickname, a childhood holdover based on a character in a book. “I don’t think I’m willing to stake my future on her being able to keep her mouth shut.”

“Then find another job. Get your father off your back, or plead for a different role in the company.”

She tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. Truth be told, she was growing used to the idea of working on the party. Maybe even liking it. If she had to do something, planning an event was probably the best option. There was no denying that her father really did know her well.

“Or I could keep the job and get her fired,” she said finally.

“Yes… you do realize that sounds hugely unethical and not at all kind?”

She puffed out a breath. “I’d compensate her fairly, once my allowance deposits. And then we wouldn’t be working together and maybe she’d—” She stopped herself talking.

“Maybe she’d what?” Rolly said, looking amused. “Give you a second chance?” He leaned forward and helped himself to the whiskey decanter. “So what’s the real problem here, Jem? That you’re afraid she’s going to force you out of your closet in front of Pa? Or that you’re angry that she turned you down? Or that you actually just want to get into her knickers?”

“Don’t use phrases like that,” Jem said, but only because she didn’t know how to answer the question. If she had to be honest, her answer would probably encompass all three options.

Rolly sighed. “Do what you have to do, that’s what you’re going to do anyway,” he said.

“She can’t work at my father’s company, not like this, it’s too…” Jem trailed off, then she closed her eyes. “It’s too scary.”

“Do you have a plan for getting her fired?”

“I’ll think of something,” Jem said, eyes still closed. And she would. She hated herself for this, hated that she was even thinking about doing something like this. She wasn’t a bad person, really she wasn’t. But she had to protect herself, wasn’t that like nature or something? Call it an instinct. She couldn’t run the risk of Ellie Baker opening her mouth in front of her father again.

JEM HAD BEEN inside the Walthambridge Hotel so many times that she didn’t even bother to look around the expensively appointed foyer. She marched straight up to the reception desk. “Ellie Baker,” she barked.

“Um, I’m here?”

She turned to see Ellie clad in a dark suit and white shirt cut just low enough that Jem could imagine what was underneath it. She almost growled. The thing with Ellie was that she just didn’t know she was attractive, which made her all the more attractive.

“Let’s get started then,” said Jem. “Where’s the manager?”

“We’re meeting with their events co-ordinator,” Ellie said, walking off and leaving Jem no choice but to follow her.

Jem steeled herself for this. Despite appearances, bad behavior wasn’t actually in her nature. She’d been to finishing school, for heaven’s sake. But this was the only thing she could think of to get the results she wanted.

She’d get them thrown out of the hotel, and given that the owner was a friend of her father’s, she was sure it wouldn’t take long for the news to get back to him. She’d blame Ellie forwhatever happened, her father would believe her, and then he’d hire a new company. Easy.

Well, easy as long as she could persuade herself to be awful. She sort of wished she’d brought a little nip of something along with her in her purse.

“This is currently the top runner,” Ellie was saying as they were shown to the co-ordinator’s office. “It’s convenient, well within budget, and would make a beautiful setting for what we have planned. I assume you’ve read the emails that I sent you.”

Jem, who had spent an hour last night going through what she’d been sent, nodded. “It wasn’t bad,” she said with a sniff.

Ellie stopped, turning, her eyes flashing. “Not bad?” she demanded.

“Well… slightly provincial at times,” said Jem, craning her head to see if the co-ordinator’s office was nearby. “But acceptable with a few changes.”

“Like what?”