Jessie Slaymaker's Non-Existent Love Life (The Jessie Slaymaker Series) Read online

  Jessie Slaymaker’s Non-Existent Love Life

  Jo Iles

  © 2013 Jo Iles

  All rights reserved

  For James

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to David Gatewood, editor par excellence, for his eagle eye. I would also like to say thanks to everybody who has supported me throughout the writing of this book. Finally, a special mention to James. Without his constant enthusiasm and confidence in me, I wouldn’t have picked up a pencil in the first place.

  Chapter 1

  Jessie Slaymaker was one of life’s plodders. She was bright, clever, decent-looking, but she had always taken the safe path through life. Dependable, reliable, safe Jessie. And all her steadiness had gotten her was a solid career as a research economist at Finance First Bank. That was another word that described Jessie: solid. Jessie, whom no one expected to set the world alight, least of all herself. She worked hard. She always tried her best. But she was stuck.

  Nothing made this realisation more apparent than her friends. Love them and treasure them as she did, they were all career high-flyers who were either married with babies, married with babies on the way, or in the process of getting married and probably having babies in the not-too-distant future. Jessie was doing none of these things.

  Although she hated to admit it to herself, Jessie was lonely. As her girlfriends had all slowly but surely started settling down and getting married off as soon as they’d hit thirty, Jessie hadn’t even begun to do any of these things. Her fun, friend-filled twenties hadn’t quite carried over into her thirties, and she felt like the world was moving on while she was standing still. She had no one to settle down with. Not even a single potential candidate in that department, in actual fact.

  Unless you counted her boss, the dreamy Charlie Davenport whom she’d been secretly in love with since she’d first clapped eyes on him. How clichéd was that? Unrequited love towards the boss. And it was unrequited. Charlie didn’t notice her unless she was talking to him about the GDP of this country or the CPI of that one. None of them countries she would ever get to visit in this lifetime.

  Charlie was hot. There was no point mincing words over it and trying to be politically correct. He was tall and athletic, with clear blue eyes and light brown hair. He had the nicest smile Jessie had ever seen—not that he smiled that often, really. He lived life at too fast a pace to stop and waste time smiling at Jessie. When he could be pried away from his work he was a decent guy; he was just oblivious to Jessie’s puppy-dog looks across the office floor.

  Jessie was slumped at her desk, reading but not really registering a long-winded report on currency appreciation, when she heard her name.

  ‘Hey Jessie,’ Charlie called, as he marched purposefully towards her desk.

  ‘Hi,’ Jessie replied awkwardly, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. Maybe he was coming to ask her out. She hoped.

  ‘This came to me by mistake,’ he said, handing her an envelope. So, no date then.

  ‘I’ve got one too though, so maybe I’ll see you there.’ And then he was gone. Could that be classified as a date? At a severe stretch, maybe.

  ‘Yeah, sure thing,’ Jessie replied to his retreating back.

  It had arrived. Hand-delivered by no less than the dishy Charlie Davenport. Well, kind of, as Jessie looked at the stamp. She’d known it was coming. She’d been expecting it for some time. ‘It’ was a crisp white envelope made from the highest quality paper money could buy. She sat staring at it, wondering whether to open it. She knew what was in it, so why should she put herself through the ordeal of actually seeing it written down in black and white?

  ‘It’ was a wedding invitation. Another bloody wedding invitation. Ten years ago, Jessie had loved going to weddings. They were fun occasions to get dressed up, see some friends, meet some new people and have a good time. Now, Jessie was jaded by them. Each wedding she went to was just a glaring reminder of the widening gap between Jessie and her circle of friends. The gap had been imperceptible at first, but now it was definitely noticeable. People were moving on, coupling up, and subsequently sticking to their own kind: other couples. The result: a lonely Jessie. Her friends probably weren’t doing it deliberately, but she felt increasingly left out, and the number of dinner and social invitations she received was definitely on the decline. At least, she hoped they weren’t doing it deliberately.

  The jaded feeling was exacerbated by the fact that she harboured some doubts about the couple whose matrimonial bliss she’d been invited to attend. The couple in question consisted of Charlie’s best friend, Nick Donaldson, and one of Jessie’s good friends, Natalie McAllister. They looked like a great couple on paper, but the problem was that Nick was a total sleazebag. Before he met Natalie, Nick was a notorious womaniser. Notorious in capital letters. Unfortunately, Natalie was too besotted with the bugger to see him for what he really was. She believed she’d tamed any undesirable tendencies in the beast and that was it. They were meant to be together forever.

  It didn’t help that Jessie felt a tad responsible for introducing them. It had been Jessie who’d suggested—well, practically begged—Natalie to join her for after-work drinks rather than go on their planned late-night shopping trip. When Jessie had heard Charlie was going for drinks, she’d been desperate to go as well, in yet another feeble attempt to catch his eye outside of the office arena. Natalie had been a perennial pal, and without too much persuasion had agreed to be her wing girl for the night. Once in the pub, Nick (probably playing Charlie’s wing man) and Natalie had caught each other’s eyes and that was that. Smitten. The whole shebang. Well, that’s how it was for Natalie, anyway, and Jessie supposed he seemed pretty keen too—when she was nearby. Trouble was, when she wasn’t superglued to his side, he had a roving eye—and a crass mouth to boot when it came to talking about women.

  Apart from that, they made a perfectly decent couple, and Jessie hoped it would work out. She didn’t think it would, but she hoped it anyway. There was no way Natalie would have listened to anything negative Jessie or anyone else had to say about Nick, so Jessie kept her true feelings to herself to keep her friendship with Natalie alive.

  No, Jessie wasn’t really looking forward to these impending nuptials. On the plus side, she would get to see more of the lovely Charlie Davenport outside of work, and hopefully this wedding might be the day he’d finally see her as something more than just a colleague. It was worth a shot, Jessie thought to herself as she slowly opened the wedding invitation. After all, he had said he’d ‘see her there’.

  Chapter 2

  Jack was back. Back in London. Back to the city and the people who’d made him want to run away seven years ago. Disappointingly, not much had changed. A new building here, an attempt at a skyscraper there. London was practically the same. Nothing like the constantly evolving massive metropolis of Shanghai he’d just returned from. Why he was back, he wasn’t too sure. But Nick’s wedding had come at an appropriate time for him to make an appearance. Plus, he was curious. Seven years in China without a sniff of Blighty was a long time.

  ‘Yes,’ he kept telling himself as he looked in the mirror, knotting his tie.

  ‘Time for a visit. Maybe not forever, but for a while anyway,’ he said, trying hard to convince the image staring back at him.

  It was like some string that he thought he’d severed long ago had pulled him back for this stupid wedding. Jack hated weddings with a passion, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why any man would want to tie himself down to one person. The concept of monogamy for a lengt
h of time longer than a few weeks was simply beyond him.

  But someone had to keep an eye on his womanising and roguish older brother. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. In reality, he knew he was probably no better than Charlie when it came to women. Although no one in the family had actually spelled it out to him plainly, he had inferred from what hadn’t been said about his brother that Charlie was up to no good and close to breaking point. Again.

  Charlie’s problem was that he did everything by extremes. Whether it be women, drugs, alcohol, gambling or even work, Charlie had done it all and overdone it all. Jack hoped that seeing his brother in a social public environment—such as, say, a wedding—would guarantee against Charlie going ballistic. Charlie hated being called out on his reckless behaviour, and had been known to put his foot through the odd door on occasion, or even take his frustrations out on the dog. Hopefully there wouldn’t be a dog at the wedding.

  Charlie especially hated being lectured by his younger brother, who could do no wrong. Which was true, and Jack knew it. Of the two boys, Jack had been his mother’s baby, and both her sons knew it. When Jack had gone off the rails, Mummy had been there to pick up the pieces, and to be a pillar of strength and support. When Charlie had gone off the rails, he’d been shipped off to his grandfather for what his mother had referred to as tough love.

  To his credit, Charlie had never treated Jack badly because of this overt favouritism, but there was an unspoken rivalry between them which prevented them from ever becoming really close. Maybe Jack’s return to England would give them an opportunity to mend old wounds, to get to know each other again. Jack hoped so. Maybe it was a yearning to repair those familial ties that had brought Jack back. But whatever the reason, he had to get through this blasted wedding and try and start afresh with Charlie. That was the order of the day; anything else would have to wait.

  Chapter 3

  Jessie was at the bride’s house. She was the only one who was ready, which was a cause for concern, considering Natalie was supposed to be walking down the aisle in precisely seventeen minutes. The day was proving to be one drama after another, with Jessie playing troubleshooter and mediator in every ensuing catastrophe. First, the bride’s shoes were nowhere to be found, and when they’d eventually been located, they’d turned out to be the bride’s second-choice pair of bridal shoes. Fortunately, a fresh search of the house finally led them to the first-choice pair: in the bride’s bag. Of all places. Then the chief bridesmaid went AWOL, only to reappear heartbroken because her dress didn’t fit properly. The diet plan hadn’t worked quite well enough. And seeing someone else have a meltdown then gave the bride the opportunity to launch into her own crying hysterics—about anything and everything. It was her day, Jessie supposed, and Natalie could cry if she wanted to.

  At least Jessie wasn’t a bridesmaid this time. That was some consolation for being required to participate in this mayhem. Particularly seeing as how the dresses were a god-awful peach colour. The bride was determined not to be outshone on her big day, and had subsequently picked a colour for the bridesmaids which was certain to look foul and flatter no one. There were three bridesmaids, all of whom were over thirty. Two were married, and one was engaged. There was something about bridesmaids of this age and lifestyle demographic which made Jessie shiver. She had been an over-thirty bridesmaid on more than one occasion, and she’d never enjoyed the experience for a single second. Too many people asking silly questions, and saying even stupider things, like ‘You’re next!’ Jessie had gotten out of official bridesmaid detail this time on account of Natalie’s enormous number of female relations, as well as the sheer expense of having so many dresses too buy. Natalie had insisted, though, that Jessie be there as an assistant whilst they were all getting ready.

  No, from now on Jessie was going to be a guest only at these kinds of things. Even just being there to assist, like today, was ruining her serene state of calm. Weddings were just too stressful.

  As she was helping one of the bridesmaids (Nadia, she thought her name was), into her peach monstrosity, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked good. Polished even. Expensive-looking. She was wearing a beautiful bright green sleeveless dress with a fitted top and fuller skirt to just above the knee. She’d bought it thinking it would look great when Charlie asked her to dance, and she could swish around with him on the dance floor. And of course, he would ask her to dance, wouldn’t he? It was the decent thing to do after all, and Charlie was a decent guy. With her dress and her fabulous black fascinator she was hard not to notice. If Charlie didn’t give her a second glance today, then he needed his eyes tested. Jessie didn’t even let the thought enter her mind that he mightn’t show, or that he wouldn’t talk to her. Yes, even though it was someone else’s wedding, this was going to be her chance to snag the man of her dreams once and for all.

  Jessie was distracted from her romantical plotting by the doorbell.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Jessie called out to everyone and no one. Standing on the doorstep was one of the yummiest-looking things since the creation of sliced bread.

  ‘Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,’ Tom said, taking in Jessie in all her wedding guest finery. He gave her an approving nod.

  ‘I think I should be saying that, actually, and you’re late,’ Jessie replied with a beaming smile, dragging Tom into the hallway.

  ‘No no no,’ Tom begged as he tried to extricate himself from Jessie’s grip, ‘I don’t want to come… in,’ he finished weakly, as he gingerly followed Jessie into the living room.

  ‘Tom’s here to help,’ Jessie announced to the room. The place was a state. Half-dressed bridesmaids, flower girls running around wildly, flowers all over the shop, and the mother of the bride slumped in an armchair, cradling what looked suspiciously like a gin and tonic.

  Every pair of eyes in the room turned to look at Tom, eyeing him up greedily. Jessie’s friend Tom was the stuff of legend. He was famed for being drop-dead gorgeous in a Tom Ford sort of way, for being seriously loaded and always out and about on the London party scene, and for being the straightest gay guy ever.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Tom offered by way of an introduction as his eyes darted nervously around the room. Yes, he may well be gay but that didn’t mean he knew what to do in a room full of crying, semi-naked or plain-old-demented women, who all looked at him like he was a chocolate fondant dessert.

  ‘Is he the gay one?’ Nadia asked Jessie, knowing full well that he was. Tom wasn’t exactly infamous, but he was well known.

  ‘Yes, unfortunately,’ Jessie replied with mock wistfulness, staring off into the distance wearing a wry smile.

  ‘What a waste,’ Nadia concluded, giving Tom a look from head to toe like he was a prime stallion.

  Tom shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clearly wondering what to do. Jessie felt pity and thanked her lucky stars that he’d agreed to be her plus one. She didn’t want him changing his mind, so she knew she had to chivvy things along.

  ‘Come on everyone, we can’t stand here all day gawping at the gorgeousness of Tom. We’ve got a wedding to get to,’ Jessie assertively announced whilst simultaneously jabbing Tom in the kidney, propelling him towards the mother of the bride and zipping up Nadia’s dress.

  With Jessie’s practical help and Tom’s rescuing of Natalie’s mother from the G&T doldrums, the bridal party managed to leave the house a mere fifteen minutes behind schedule. Given the dramas of the day so far, that was a miracle in itself. Jessie waved the bride off with mixed emotions. She was worried for her friend’s future on the one hand, but glad the preparation part of the day was over on the other, as she sank down into Tom’s comfortable passenger seat. He’d brought the Aston today. Nothing too ostentatious for the occasion, of course.

  Chapter 4

  Tom was glad to be out of that house and away from the sideways glances he’d been getting from all those women. He concealed a shudder as he started up the engine and sped
off at high speed in the direction of the church. He loved Jessie to bits, and couldn’t refuse her anything on the odd occasion when she asked a favour from him. But he hated how she always said yes to everyone who ever needed her help. He really felt people, particularly her girlfriends, took advantage of her niceness, and pushed her into doing things she wouldn’t necessarily choose to have done herself.

  He glanced over at her and then quickly flicked his eyes back to the road. Tom had always thought she looked lovely, but today she was absolutely stunning. There was something about her green dress and overall look which really worked for her. To him, Jessie seemed to be getting better-looking with age. She had been a good-looking girl in her twenties, but she seemed to be really blossoming now that she was in her thirties.

  ‘You alright, chick?’ he said to make conversation, noticing she seemed pensive.

  ‘Yes, you know… just thinking about Nat and Nick and hoping they’ll work out, and that she’s happy. That’s all I want her to be.’

  ‘Natalie’s a big girl, Jess. You can’t protect all your friends all the time. She has to make her own mistakes and stand by them.’

  ‘I know,’ Natalie replied. ‘It’s just—Nick has such an unwholesome reputation. I still can’t quite believe she’s actually marrying him.’

  They sat in silence for a while, watching the traffic and scenery go past. He liked that about his friendship with Jessie. They could talk for hours, but they were equally comfortable with the quiet as well.

  ‘You look especially fine today,’ Jessie said, turning to look at him. She seemed to have switched off her anxiety, as there was a mischievous look in her big brown eyes.

  ‘Are you looking for Mr Right, or Mr Right Now?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow in a suggestive way.