Silver Tears(63)

“Are you okay, sweetheart? No regrets about yesterday?”

David looked at her searchingly, stroking her hand with his fingers. Faye appreciated his concern. It would have been strange if it hadn’t been there. But she was able to answer truthfully when she said: “No regrets. We’re three adults with our own free will, and I love you and Alice. Well, in slightly different ways…” She laughed. “But still. It was great. It was love. It was respect.”

“You’re amazing,” David said, and she could see in his eyes that he meant it.

“Oh, you’re just saying that,” she said. Transparent fishing.

“You do know that I think you’re the most beautiful woman on earth, right? Or do I need to be even clearer about that?”

“I think you need to be even clearer,” she said, bending forward to kiss him.

There was something about David that made her thirst for his compliments. It was exquisite when he showered her with terms of endearment. And kisses. She had no doubts after the night before. David had made love to both of them, but throughout he had been clear that he loved her.

“By the way…” He sounded hesitant. “We were talking about meeting for lunch, but I have to go away today. To Frankfurt. Boring business stuff to attend to. I’d rather see you, but…work calls.”

“Of course,” Faye said, caressing his hand. “I of all people understand. I’ll be away a fair bit too, and it would be really weird if I didn’t get it when you had to go away.”



“Sure?”

He looked at her from under his mop of hair, and she loved him for his consideration. In her youthful na?veté, she had thought Jack was her dream man. But David was something else. Above all, he wasn’t Jack.

David raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“There’s no one like you, you know that? When I get home tonight, I want to take you out for dinner. Frantzén. Okay?”

Faye nodded and David kissed her in a way that took her breath away. Dear God, she loved this man.



* * *



—

Faye toweled her hair a little more when she reached the bedroom. She tied the sash on her dressing gown. If she wasn’t going to get a cozy lunch with David today, then she wanted a little extra luxury this morning.

At that moment, her mobile lit up on the bed. A text from Ylva. Faye clicked on the message.

Come to the office. Henrik is here. He’s been holding back more acquisitions that he’s only just reported. He’s got a majority.

Faye reeled. She almost dropped her mobile. It couldn’t be true. How the hell had this happened?

She dressed quickly, did her makeup even more quickly, and leaped into a taxi. When she arrived at the office, no one would look her in the eye. Alice met her in reception and they exchanged brief smiles before the gravity of the situation descended on them.

“He’s in your office,” said Alice. “I’m not coming in there with you. For obvious reasons. But Ylva is up there, outside. She’s waiting for you.”

Faye nodded, firmly gripped her Chanel bag, and took a deep breath before taking the elevator to the top floor. Ylva met her as the elevator doors opened.



“Having the nerve to come here so soon after securing a majority,” Faye said. “It’s insane.”

“Don’t let him see how you’re actually feeling,” Ylva said. “I’m going to try and save what can be saved. And remember: there’s always plan B.”

“Okay,” Faye said grimly, patting her on the shoulder.

Ylva nodded encouragingly and hurried into her office. From the corner of her eye, Faye saw her busy herself with the assortment of papers scattered across her desk.

Slowly, unhurriedly, deliberately under control, Faye sauntered toward her office, which was at the far end of the open-plan area. She could see Henrik through the window and she could see that he had seen her. She held her head high and forced herself to breathe calmly. She couldn’t lose her temper. She couldn’t afford to let emotion get in the way right now, even if part of her wanted nothing more than to go up to him and wipe that conceited smirk off his face with a well-aimed swipe of her heavy Chanel leather Boy bag. It had rivets on the outside.

Instead, she stepped into her airy office with calm and control.

“Hello, Henrik,” she said, nodding to him. “You already seem to have made yourself at home.”

He didn’t nod back. Instead he grinned.

“The first thing I’m going to do is rip out all this and refurbish the place. Jesus Christ, who was your designer? The ice queen of Narnia? White, white, white. Sterile and cold. Just like you.”

Faye sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs, smoothed out her Dolce & Gabbana silk skirt, and clasped her hands in her lap.

“Yes, I must confess that it doesn’t have the same cozy feeling you prefer. What are you going to go for? Bar in the corner? Football pennants on the walls and a big moose head that you claim is a hunting trophy from one of your trips but that you actually won in an auction at Bukowskis? You know, it might be tricky getting it up, given there’s nothing but glass walls here, but maybe you could stick a giant suction cup on the back of it?”



She smirked and saw that it was driving Henrik mad. In the two years that had elapsed since she had last seen him, his hairline had receded dramatically.