I've Got Your Number
Page 86
Yet again I read it over, not wanting to relinquish the phone until I’m absolutely sure of what I’m seeing.
I’m not sure if this is the right number. But I had to let you know. Your fiancée has been unfaithful. It’s with someone you know. (Incoming text)
I knew it. I knew she was a bitch, and this proves she’s even worse than I thought.
“What is it?” Sam bangs his hand impatiently on the table. “Give. Is it to do with the conference?”
“No!” I knit my hands around the phone. “Sam, I’m really sorry. And I wish I hadn’t seen this first. But it says … ” I hesitate, agonized. “It says Willow’s being unfaithful to you. I’m sorry.”
Sam looks absolutely shocked. As I hand the phone over, I feel a wrenching sympathy for him. Who the hell sends that kind of news in a text ?
I bet she’s shagging Justin Cole. Those two would totally suit each other.
I’m scanning Sam’s face for distress, but after that initial flash of shock, he seems extraordinarily calm. He frowns, flicks to the end of the text, then puts the phone back down on the table.
“Are you OK?” I can’t help venturing.
He shrugs. “Makes no sense.”
“I know!” I’m so stirred up on his behalf, I can’t help throwing in my views. “Why would she do that? And she gives you such a hard time! She’s such a hypocrite! She’s horrible!” I break off, wondering if I’ve gone too far. Sam is looking at me oddly.
“No, you don’t understand. It makes no sense because I’m not engaged. I don’t have a fiancée.”
“But you’re engaged to Willow,” I say stupidly.
“No, I’m not.”
“But … ” I stare at him blankly. How can he not be engaged? Of course he’s engaged.
“Never have been.” He shrugs. “What gave you that idea?”
“You told me! I know you told me!” My face is screwed up, trying to remember. “At least … yes! It was in an email. Violet sent it. It said, Sam’s engaged. I know it did.”
“Oh, that.” His brow clears. “Occasionally I’ve used that as an excuse to get rid of persistent people.” He adds, as though to make it clear, “Women.”
“An excuse ?” I echo incredulously. “So, who’s Willow, then?”
“Willow is my ex-girlfriend,” he says after a pause. “We split up two months ago.”
Ex -girlfriend?
For a moment, I can’t speak. My brain feels like a fruit machine, whirling round, trying to find the right combination. I can’t cope with this. He’s engaged. He’s supposed to be engaged.
“But you—you should have said!” My agitation bursts out at last. “All this time, you let me think you were engaged!”
“No, I didn’t. I never mentioned it.” He looks perplexed. “Why are you angry?”
“I … I don’t know! It’s all wrong.”
I’m breathing hard, trying to order my thoughts. How can he not be with Willow? Everything’s different now. And it’s all his fault.80
“We talked so much about everything.” I try to speak more calmly. “I mentioned Willow several times and you never specified who she was. How could you be so secretive?”
“I’m not secretive!” He gives a short laugh. “I would have explained who she was if the subject had come up. It’s over. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters!”
“Why?”
I want to scream with frustration. How can he ask why? Isn’t it obvious?
“Because … because … she behaves as though you’re together.” And suddenly I realize this is what’s upsetting me the most. “She behaves as though she has every right to rant at you. That’s why I never doubted you were engaged. What’s that all about?”
Sam flinches as though with irritation but says nothing.
“She cc’s your PA! She blurts everything out in public emails! It’s bizarre!”
“Willow’s always been … an exhibitionist. She likes an audience.” He sounds reluctant to get into this. “She doesn’t have the same boundaries as other people—”
“Too right she doesn’t! Do you know how possessive she is? I overheard her talking at the office.” A loudspeaker starts broadcasting announcements about upcoming stations, but I raise my voice over the noise. “You know she bitches about you to all the girls at the office? She told them you’re just going through a bad patch and you need to wake up or you’re going to realize what you’re about to lose—i.e., her.”
I’m not sure if this is the right number. But I had to let you know. Your fiancée has been unfaithful. It’s with someone you know. (Incoming text)
I knew it. I knew she was a bitch, and this proves she’s even worse than I thought.
“What is it?” Sam bangs his hand impatiently on the table. “Give. Is it to do with the conference?”
“No!” I knit my hands around the phone. “Sam, I’m really sorry. And I wish I hadn’t seen this first. But it says … ” I hesitate, agonized. “It says Willow’s being unfaithful to you. I’m sorry.”
Sam looks absolutely shocked. As I hand the phone over, I feel a wrenching sympathy for him. Who the hell sends that kind of news in a text ?
I bet she’s shagging Justin Cole. Those two would totally suit each other.
I’m scanning Sam’s face for distress, but after that initial flash of shock, he seems extraordinarily calm. He frowns, flicks to the end of the text, then puts the phone back down on the table.
“Are you OK?” I can’t help venturing.
He shrugs. “Makes no sense.”
“I know!” I’m so stirred up on his behalf, I can’t help throwing in my views. “Why would she do that? And she gives you such a hard time! She’s such a hypocrite! She’s horrible!” I break off, wondering if I’ve gone too far. Sam is looking at me oddly.
“No, you don’t understand. It makes no sense because I’m not engaged. I don’t have a fiancée.”
“But you’re engaged to Willow,” I say stupidly.
“No, I’m not.”
“But … ” I stare at him blankly. How can he not be engaged? Of course he’s engaged.
“Never have been.” He shrugs. “What gave you that idea?”
“You told me! I know you told me!” My face is screwed up, trying to remember. “At least … yes! It was in an email. Violet sent it. It said, Sam’s engaged. I know it did.”
“Oh, that.” His brow clears. “Occasionally I’ve used that as an excuse to get rid of persistent people.” He adds, as though to make it clear, “Women.”
“An excuse ?” I echo incredulously. “So, who’s Willow, then?”
“Willow is my ex-girlfriend,” he says after a pause. “We split up two months ago.”
Ex -girlfriend?
For a moment, I can’t speak. My brain feels like a fruit machine, whirling round, trying to find the right combination. I can’t cope with this. He’s engaged. He’s supposed to be engaged.
“But you—you should have said!” My agitation bursts out at last. “All this time, you let me think you were engaged!”
“No, I didn’t. I never mentioned it.” He looks perplexed. “Why are you angry?”
“I … I don’t know! It’s all wrong.”
I’m breathing hard, trying to order my thoughts. How can he not be with Willow? Everything’s different now. And it’s all his fault.80
“We talked so much about everything.” I try to speak more calmly. “I mentioned Willow several times and you never specified who she was. How could you be so secretive?”
“I’m not secretive!” He gives a short laugh. “I would have explained who she was if the subject had come up. It’s over. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters!”
“Why?”
I want to scream with frustration. How can he ask why? Isn’t it obvious?
“Because … because … she behaves as though you’re together.” And suddenly I realize this is what’s upsetting me the most. “She behaves as though she has every right to rant at you. That’s why I never doubted you were engaged. What’s that all about?”
Sam flinches as though with irritation but says nothing.
“She cc’s your PA! She blurts everything out in public emails! It’s bizarre!”
“Willow’s always been … an exhibitionist. She likes an audience.” He sounds reluctant to get into this. “She doesn’t have the same boundaries as other people—”
“Too right she doesn’t! Do you know how possessive she is? I overheard her talking at the office.” A loudspeaker starts broadcasting announcements about upcoming stations, but I raise my voice over the noise. “You know she bitches about you to all the girls at the office? She told them you’re just going through a bad patch and you need to wake up or you’re going to realize what you’re about to lose—i.e., her.”
