Hate to Love You(100)

Greg stood up. “Shut up, Elizabeth.”

“I don’t think so, Greggie. The fact you cheat on your wife shows how pathetic you are. You’d better hope your father-in-law pops it soon because that poor, clueless woman might catch on you only married her for the money or discover your affair with Patricia and all the other women you screw. You won’t be giving up work and living the high life if she divorces you for being a philandering bastard.”

“What?” a woman screeched from behind me.

I jumped and looked around. Greg’s wife was in the doorway and James was with her.

“Oh crap.”

Greg’s wife was shaking, looking between Greg and me with wide, stricken eyes. “Is that true?”

Oh God, she wasn’t asking me was she?

“Darling, she’s lying,” Greg said.

I sucked in my bottom lip and averted my face. She lurched backward, clutching her pregnant abdomen. Then she gave a small cry and stumbled past James. Greg went after her, stopping briefly when he got to me.

“I hope they lock you up and throw away the key.”

I dropped onto the edge of my desk, feeling rotten. Why hadn’t I kept my mouth shut, let Greg have the last word and then left? I berated myself, all the while conscious that James was standing in front of me. He didn’t say anything, but one glance told me nothing had changed.

“Old habits die hard,” he said scathingly, and turned on his heels.





Chapter Twenty-Two

Heavenly Delight

The officer took me to Holborn Police Station and I was interrogated until I thought my head would explode. Repeatedly, I answered the same questions voiced in different ways. My teenage record was dredged up and with it the restraining order Francesca had filed against me. I’d lied to the police about my stalking activities, only owning up when they’d showed me the video of my black-capped self in front of Matham Manor, so why should they believe me now?

Like Greg said, I had motive and opportunity. They kept me in for eight hours and then they let me go without charging me. However, I was warned not to make any travel plans for the foreseeable future.#p#分页标题#e#

I lived in a haze of stress and anxiety. I did my own sleuthing, visiting Banc Suisse and getting nowhere. People who worked at Flintfire didn’t take my calls so I stopped phoning in hopes of finding out the latest on the investigation. Marcia’s flat looked like a dentist’s nightmare, so many pots of sugar with my name written inside them Fleur Anise asked to take one to show and tell.

I cooperated with the police but I was formally charged a few days after they’d first taken me in for questioning. I felt like Bridget Jones in that film where she ends up in a Thai prison accused of drug-smuggling. I hoped to God a certain dark-haired lawyer would swoop in and save me at the last minute, but James didn’t show.

Marcia and Tarzan visited me in the clink. They mouthed calm, positive words while their eyes shrieked with fear. What can I say about that time except that it sucked? I was scared witless, wondering if I would be condemned for a crime I hadn’t committed.

One week later I was given my personal items and released. The officer in charge of the investigation told me Mr Scott-Thomas had produced overwhelming evidence clearing me of embezzling our client’s funds. A large bulk of the money had been transferred out of client accounts during Manuel’s visit, when James knew I was nowhere near my computer.

James had also hired an expensive criminal lawyer for me, one who was competent enough to get me released quicker than I would have been otherwise. I was nonplussed at his intervention, even more so when I discovered he’d been to the jail and spoken to the officers about my case. It was in his capacity as my boss, they said, but I buried that knowledge under the hope he’d forgiven me.

Why hadn’t he asked to see me?

Duh, my mind answered, because you’re the lying bitch who ruined his life. Twice.

Still, I hoped James had softened towards me. Of course, I was also grateful for his help and I phoned to thank him immediately.

He didn’t answer my calls.

A few days after I was cleared the real criminal was revealed. It was little Miss Sunshine from Down Under. Velma had stolen my passwords to fatten her purse before slinking back to Sydney. A computer whizz, she had appropriated my Paisley Benton identity and used it to open an offshore bank account and deposit the funds.

I always knew she was a bitch.

To tell the truth I was disappointed that Greg wasn’t the culprit. Mr Lemane invited me back to Flintfire to finish my probation period but I declined. James didn’t want to see me and I wanted to show him I wasn’t selfish, that I cared more about his wishes than my own.