Sure, Tabitha thought about putting on make-up, combing her hair and dressing up for the occasion. But she knew there wasn’t any point. Why dress up for your own funeral?
Lining up at the bank, she watched the teller’s eyebrows shoot up a fraction as she gave her withdrawal slip and without a word handed over her driver’s licence to verify her signature.#p#分页标题#e#
‘We normally require some notice when it’s such a large withdrawal. We don’t always have enough cash on the premises.’
Tabitha wasn’t in the mood for games, or lectures. ‘Can I have my money now? Yes or no?’
‘It might take a few moments. Will you be happy to wait?’
She let out a low laugh. ‘I’ll wait, but I can’t guarantee to be happy.’
A storm was breaking as she reached the high-rise office of Chambers Financiers. There must have been something in her stance, or perhaps it was the determination in her eyes, but even Zavier’s receptionist let her past without much argument.
So what if she didn’t have an appointment?
Zavier didn’t stand as she entered, he didn’t even look particularly surprised to see her—just gestured to the chair at his desk, watching as she sat down in a skirt that was too short and a jacket that was too big.
His office was huge. Her entire home could have been dropped in the middle and still left room for a courtyard. But then this was Chambers territory she was stepping into—why would she expect less?
‘What can I do for you?’ She felt like one of his clients for all the tenderness in his greeting. Even Zavier seemed to flinch at his own formality. ‘I’m sorry, how have you been?’
‘Fine,’ she lied. ‘Work’s been busy.’
A hint of a frown marred his smooth face. ‘Just finished a matinée?’
Tabitha shook her head. ‘I’ve got a job in the box office. It looks a bit more respectable on an application form.’
Still the frown remained.
‘What?’ she ventured, blushing under his scrutiny.
‘You just look…different, that’s all.’
‘Shackled’ was the first word that sprang to his mind, but of course he didn’t say it. Her red hair was pulled back, that gorgeous body draped in sombre navy, even the jade of her eyes seemed to have dimmed—but what Tabitha wore, what Tabitha did, for that matter, was her business and hers alone. Still, it was only polite to ask how she was doing…
‘How come you’re not dancing? If you’re having any trouble getting a part because of taking a break, I could have a word—make a few noises.’
‘You mean you’ll take care of it?’
Zavier shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Something like that. Look, I don’t want what happened between us to ruin your career.’
Tabitha let out a low laugh. ‘It was hardly a career, as you so delicately pointed out on more than a few occasions. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. I’m hoping to start my own dance school some time next year; the office work will help.’
‘How?’ He gave a derisive laugh. ‘It’s a box office, Tabitha, hardly rocket science.’
‘And you’re still a pompous know-it-all.’ That stopped him in his tracks long enough for Tabitha to open her bag and catch her breath. ‘This came in the post.’ She pushed the cheque towards him, remembering with a strange surge of power him doing the same.
Like her, he didn’t even deign to give it a glance. ‘That’s right. It’s what’s due to you. There should have been a covering letter enclosed. You didn’t break the contract, I did, so you’re still entitled to the money.’
‘I don’t want it.’
He waved a dismissive hand and turned back to his computer. ‘Up to you.’
Trembling, she stood up and, opening her bag, took out a wad of money and placed it in front of him.#p#分页标题#e#
‘What’s this?’
‘What does it look like? You’re the financial whizz; I thought at least you’d recognise money when you see it.’
‘But what’s it for?’
‘The first payment you gave to me—it’s all there.’ She turned to go but he called her back.
‘You don’t have to do this, Tabitha. How can you afford it?’
‘My grandmother paid me back, remember?’
‘But what about your dance school?’
‘It will happen,’ she said assuredly. ‘Perhaps not as quickly as I’d like, but it will definitely happen.’ Her hand was on the door and she wrenched it open.
‘Why didn’t you just write a cheque?’