The Friendship Barrier Page 4

  On the way home, Annette oozed self-satisfaction. ‘I’ve been dying to get you out of all those dull correct clothes you favour for months,’ she admitted cheerfully, as they prepared their evening meal, ‘and those camiknickers!’ She rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘Personally, I’ve always been something of an underwear freak—nothing gaudy, or openly sexy; it’s just that I adore the sensation of silks and satins next to my skin. It makes me feel good, and yet rather naughty at the same time, if you know what I mean. It’s my only extravagance that Roger approves of.’ She spluttered with laughter when she saw Stephanie’s expression, shaking her head a little over her reserve, and Stephanie wondered a little bleakly if Susy Waldron wore silks and satins next to her skin and if Jake enjoyed touching them before he touched her.

  It was alarming and extremely disturbing to find she had come so far down a road she hadn’t even been aware of setting out on. Somehow her life had taken an unexpected turning, and she wasn’t sure yet herself just what it was leading to; all she did know was that she feared the changes heralded, and that if she could she would have gone back to the security of a friendship with Jake which had no overtones of sexuality. How had they come to be there in the first place? It was a question she just couldn’t answer.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHEN Stephanie went back to work on Monday morning she admitted to a butterfly feeling of trepidation. All weekend she had kept remembering the scene at Jake’s apartment—the way he had spoken to her. And the way he had kissed her, she forced herself to acknowledge.

  A quick flick through her diary—an almost automatic first-thing job once she had taken off her coat—showed her that Jake had an early dental appointment. She grimaced faintly as she checked through the mail, sorting it into neat piles. Jake hated visiting the dentist, and his mood was likely to be none too good when he did arrive.

  She had dealt efficiently with what she could of the post, dealt with several phone calls, including one from a would-be house seller who wanted Jake to go round to value what sounded to be an extremely promising Thames-side property, and was sitting neatly in front of her typewriter, sipping a cup of coffee, when Jake finally arrived. One side of his jaw was faintly swollen, his eyes a dark and threateningly stormy grey. He flung down his Burberry with a lack of his normal precision, his frown deepening as his glance swept over Stephanie’s calm face and neatly clad body.

  What was he looking for, she wondered, hanging grimly on to the calm smile she had been practising all weekend as his scrutiny raked her, as potentially dangerous as a sharply honed razor. Even allowing for the dental visit, there was something about him this morning that sparked warning signals in her own defence system. She had been right to dread this meeting. Subtly, unbearably to her mind, and possibly irretrievably, things had changed between them.

  ‘Messages?’ Jake flung the demand at her as he walked through into his own office. Normally, his abrupt manner didn’t bother her but, for some reason, this morning she found herself flushing angrily, not so much at the curtness of his voice but at the way his eyes lingered for that extra half a second on the soft swell of her breasts before he strode past her. Never once in the past had Jake ever, by so much as a glance, indicated any sexual awareness of her, but this morning… The buzzer on her desk distracted her and she picked up the phone.

  The buzz had signalled that it was an internal call and, as she listened to one of the other partners requesting an urgent meeting with Jake, Stephanie tred to dismiss from her mind her turbulent feelings.

  The urgent meeting kept him out of the office until Stephanie was about to go for lunch. He returned just as she was putting her coat on, and indicated imperiously that he wanted her to wait.

  The door between their two offices was half open and, as she was waiting, Stephanie heard him pick up his own phone and punch a series of numbers into it.

  Seconds later her whole body seemed to be seized in a painful paralysis as she heard him drawl, ‘Susy? About tonight, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make it.’

  Becoming aware that she was eavesdropping on his private conversation Stephanie moved disjointedly towards her own desk. Susy? Why did his relationship with Susy Waldron upset her so?

  ‘Sorry about that,’ his phone call finished, Jake walked back into her office. ‘I’ve got to go out and see that new property this afternoon and I want you to come with me. It sounds promising. Can you manage with half an hour for lunch?’

  It wasn’t the first time Jake had made such a request. Normally, when they were busy, she would go out and buy them both sandwiches for lunch and they would work companionably, side by side, while they ate, but today, for some reason, she hesitated to suggest this.

  ‘Calm, serene Stephanie,’ Jake drawled, when she nodded an affirmative. ‘You like the world to think nothing can penetrate through the wall, don’t you? You’ve got “don’t trespass” signs posted all round your personal space, feet high, but we both know that…’

  Another moment, and he would be talking about Friday evening, and that was something she just couldn’t endure. ‘I’m on my lunch hour, Jake,’ she interrupted evenly. ‘Half an hour, I think you said. I’d better go…’

  ‘Flight, not fight, is that it, Steph?’ he jeered, as she turned away. ‘What is it you’re so frightened of?’

  Losing your friendship, she could have said; being alone without you, but the words were far too painful to be voiced, and, instead, she simply walked out of the office before he saw that she was trembling—Jake had very sharp eyes and extremely acute perceptions. She had known him to be brusque and even sarcastic at times before; she had never known this cutting, deliberate intention to hurt and she was at a loss to understand the reason for it.

  She was back from lunch exactly on the dot. She could hear sounds of movement from Jake’s office and tapped briefly on the door before going in. Jake was standing with his back to her staring out of his window. He had removed the jacket of his suit and the fine cotton shirt he was wearing clung to the taut muscles of his back. What was the matter with her, Stephanie asked herself in distraught dismay? She had seen Jake without his jacket on countless thousands of occasions in the past—she had even once arrived at his flat and found him still only half dressed, and yet she could never remember once reacting as she was reacting now. All her stomach muscles seemed to have clenched in a tight spasm and refused to unlock. Her body shook and her skin felt hot. She wanted to reach out and trace the clean line of his spine to… He swung round, catching her off guard, and she quickly veiled her eyes, looking distractedly at the papers on his desk.

  ‘Something wrong?’

  Even without looking at him, she could sense his quick frown. It took an almost superhuman effort of will to sound casual as she murmured, ‘No… no, I’m fine. What time did you want to leave?’ Her voice was a husky, unfamiliar whisper edged with a strain she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  It was only as she followed Jake down to the car park that she realised what was happening. Almost for the first time in their friendship she was lying to him, hiding her feelings from him, and she could barely understand her own reactions. All she could do was accept that they were necessitated by his attitude towards her; part of a complex and sensitive feminine defence mechanism she had hitherto never needed to use with Jake.

  ‘You’re quiet. Not sulking, are you?’ Jake jeered softly once they were in the car.

  ‘Sulking?’

  For a moment, she was honestly puzzled, and then a quick flush burned her fair skin as he drawled, ‘Remember Friday night? It isn’t exactly unheard of for women to resort to sulks when they’re challenged.’

  ‘Is that what you were doing? Challenging me?’ She forced a light laugh. ‘Silly me, I thought it was meant to be therapy. Susy’s back in London than,’ she chattered on too brightly into the taut silence that followed her previous remark. ‘I saw her photograph in New York.’

  ‘Yes, she’s got a modelling assignment over h
ere,’ Jake agreed, ‘Vogue. I think we turn left here.’

  Stephanie glanced at her typewritten directions and agreed. Perhaps it was silly of her to imagine that things had changed between herself and Jake, but she couldn’t dismiss the fear that she was right and that there could be no going back.

  The house was every bit as enchanting as it had sounded. Surrounded by a beautifully tended and very private garden that ran down to the river and included a private mooring, it had been built in the nineteen twenties in a mock Tudor style that had mellowed attractively over the years. The owner explained, as he showed them over, that he had been promoted and was being transferred to the American parent of the company he worked for.

  ‘My wife isn’t too pleased,’ he admitted wryly. ‘She loves this place. We bought it shortly after we were married with a legacy I inherited.’

  ‘It’s an extremely attractive property,’ Jake told him, ‘and it shouldn’t be too difficult to sell. One of the drawbacks might be the fact that there’s only one bathroom, although, with six bedrooms and a box room, doing a conversion shouldn’t be too difficult.’

  The kitchen, too, was slightly old-fashioned by modern-day standards, but Stephanie loved the generous proportions of the drawing room and the comfortable family sitting room overlooking the back garden. It was with something approaching a wrench that she finally turned away from the house, glancing over her shoulder from Jake’s car to catch a last glimpse of it as they drove away.

  ‘We won’t have any problem selling that,’ Jake announced, as they joined the main road. ‘What did you think of it?’

  ‘I loved it,’ Stephanie told him. ‘It’s a real family house…’

  ‘Umm…’ For some reason, her comment caused him to glance sharply at her.

  ‘Jake…’ she said his name uncertainly, impelled by a need that went deeper than natural reserve and self-restraint. ‘Jake… are we still friends?’ she asked huskily, not daring to look at him, ‘after Friday night…?’

  ‘Does our friendship mean so much to you?’

  He sounded slightly amused, and Stephanie had to swallow the sharp lump of pain that had lodged in her throat.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted honestly. ‘Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you. I can’t understand what’s happened between us, Jake. One moment everything was as it’s always been, and then, on Friday…’

  ‘On Friday night, I kissed you and turned from a cherished friend to a potential enemy, is that how you see it, Steph?’ He was still smiling, but this time she sensed something other than amusement underlying his words, something that eluded her and yet frightened her.

  ‘I…’

  ‘No relationship can stand still forever.’

  ‘No… I can understand that you must have been missing Susy…’ Somehow, she managed to force the words past stiff lips, praying that he wouldn’t know them for the lies they were. She couldn’t understand; either why he had treated her as he had, or why he had changed. He had always been so meticulous in the past about not allowing his affairs to infringe on their relationship.

  ‘Can you? And how could you do that?’ he demanded with a quiet savagery that shocked her out of her pain, ‘when, by your own admission, physical desire is something you can’t experience? Or have you been lying to me, Stephanie? Can you feel it?’

  ‘Jake, please… don’t let’s quarrel. I’m sorry if I’ve made you angry. Look, why don’t we forget all about last Friday. Come round for dinner one evening. I’ll make Pavlova for you,’ she teased, mentioning his favourite dessert, only to feel her smile disappearing completely when he said with cold curtness, ‘Sorry, but I won’t be able to make it. I’ve got a pretty hectic schedule over the next few weeks.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ The pain was so intense it was almost numbing; a silent intensity of anguish that threatened to blot out everything else. Never in a thousand nightmares had she imagined that Jake would ever refuse an olive branch from her. Even now, she was finding it hard to accept.

  ‘Jake…’ she reached out, nearly touching his arm, her voice unconsciously pleading.

  ‘Stop worrying.’ His words were clipped, and he didn’t look at her. ‘If my friendship means that much to you, Stephanie, you’ve got it, it’s just that I think, for the time being, that we both need a little breathing space.’ Watching the cynical twist to his mouth, Stephanie knew it was a statement she wasn’t going to be allowed to argue about.

  On the surface, nothing had changed. They still functioned perfectly together as a working team, and there were even times in the days that followed when she could have believed that their quarrel had simply been something she had imagined, if it hadn’t been for the expression she occasionally surprised in Jake’s eyes when she glanced up and found him watching her. It was a distant, assessing scrutiny that somehow chilled her; as though she were being weighed and found wanting.

  Friday was a particularly hectic day, an apt ending for a very difficult week. When her typewriter broke down just before lunch, Stephanie had difficulty in repressing a scream of pure frustration. A telephone call to the suppliers brought a promise of help during the afternoon and the loan of another machine, and she was just replacing the receiver when the door to her office was flung dramatically open.

  She had seen Susy Waldron in the flesh before, of course, but, on that occasion, she must not have registered the lintensely sexual aura the other woman projected, Stephanie reflected sickly as the model’s musky perfume enveloped her. Dressed in a supple russet leather skirt and a startlingly effective top in russets and other autumnal colours, she glanced contemptuously towards Stephanie before heading for Jake’s door.

  ‘Jake… Jake is on the phone at the moment,’ Stephanie told her shakily. ‘If you’d just like to wait…’

  ‘Jake won’t mind my going in,’ Susy said. ‘He’s taking me out to lunch,’ she added, her pale blue eyes gleaming with unmistakable malice through the layers of expertly applied make-up she was wearing. From a distance, that careful use of cosmetics had the effect of softening and darkening her eyes, but, close to, they were unmistakably pale and very cold; so cold that Stephanie felt herself shiver and step back slightly.

  ‘I wouldn’t arrange anything for him this afternoon, if I were you,’ Susy added. ‘I doubt that he’ll be back.’

  The light on Stephanie’s extension went off, indicating that Jake had concluded his call but, before she could say anything, his door opened and he stood there. As always, when he was working, he had removed his jacket. The top button of his shirt was undone, his tie slightly awry.

  ‘Jake, darling.’

  Was he really so taken in with her surface attraction that he couldn’t see how shallow she was, Stephanie wondered achingly, watching the way Susy curved her fingers round his arm, stroking their painted tips along the soft fabric of his shirt.

  As she watched them, something seemed to happen to Stephanie’s nervous system. Her stomach clenched as tightly as though the muscles had seized up, waves of pain surging to every nerve ending. Unconsciously, her fingers curled into her palms and then, as Jake bent his head and lightly kissed Susy on the cheek, her taut muscles relaxed into an explosion of nausea. Fortunately, the phone rang, distracting her attention, and, as Jake led Susy into his office and closed the door behind them, Stephanie reached for the phone, trying to control her shaking body. The phone call dealt with, she subsided into her chair.

  ‘Hey, what’s the matter with you?’ the chirpy voice of one of the other secretaries enquired in concern. ‘You look as though you’ve suddenly gone into shock. You’re as pale as a ghost. Are you ill?’

  Was she? Feverishly Stephanie leapt at the explanation. Of course, that was it, she must have picked up some sort of bug; that would explain the tearing pains in her stomach and the acute feeling of nausea as well as the waves of heat burning through her veins. Suddenly, her head was pounding, her whole body in the grip of a terrible weakness that made it impossible for her to do anything mor
e than simply stay in her chair.

  ‘I think I must be,’ Stephanie admitted, too confused even to marital her thoughts properly.

  ‘You’d better go home.’ The other girl was obviously concerned. ‘I’ve never seen you like this, Stephanie. You always seem so cool and in control. Look, I’ll ring for a taxi, shall I? Where’s Jake…?’

  ‘No… don’t disturb him,’ Stephanie was about to say, not wanting either Jake or Susy to witness her humiliating disability, but the door to Jake’s office was opening, and he stepped out, Susy clinging to his arm. Both of them were laughing and, on another acute wave of nausea, Stephanie saw that his mouth was slightly stained with Susy’s lipstick. The vividness of the mental picture she had of them kissing was accompanied by another tearing pain, and it didn’t need Jessie’s worried, ‘Jake, she’s ill’ to draw Jake’s attention to her milk-white face.

  ‘Stephanie?’

  ‘I think I must have picked up a bug,’ she groaned huskily. ‘Jake, if you don’t mind, I think I’d better go home…’

  ‘Of course Jake doesn’t mind, do you darling?’ Susy murmured throatily. ‘You weren’t planning to come back this afternoon, were you?’

  Stephanie saw him glance at his watch and frown. ‘Jessie, ring for a cab, will you?’ he instructed tersely. ‘Susy, I’d better take Stephanie home. I’ll meet you at the Savoy as soon as I can…’

  Stephanie couldn’t have said which of them was the more shocked. Susy burst into immediate and angry argument. ‘Jake, for goodness sake, why do you have to take her home…? She’ll be perfectly all right in the taxi… If you’re so worried about her, let… let this other girl go with her.’

  ‘Jessie is someone else’s secretary, and I can hardly commandeer her without his permission, neither can I let Stephanie go home alone. Judging by the state of her, I doubt whether any taxi driver would permit her in his cab unescorted.’

  ‘But our lunch date…’