Daydreamer
Chapter 25

Lucy

“Earth to Lucy,” Emily’s voice penetrated my daydream and I came back to myself with a start. “You alive in there, hun?”

I blinked around at the people surrounding me and gave my head a shake to clear it.

“S–sorry,” I said in a small voice, pulling my jumper sleeves down over my hands. The sting of the frostnip wasn’t as bad this week but it was enough to make me wince as I clenched my fingers together. I was hoping that I’d be able to start typing soon, but so far the pads of my fingers had been too sensitive to even consider it. Seeing as I couldn’t hold a pen either the situation was far from ideal. I was already a fair way off my deadline, I couldn’t afford any more delays.

“It’s okay,” Harry said in a soft voice. “Sorry Luce, I was probably droning on a bit. I can understand why you’d zone out.”

We were at the LSE building. I’d agreed to meet the teenagers from Harry’s project before I left London for good. Mike thought it would be a good opportunity to get me out of the flat, and Emily had driven us up from Little Buckingham so she could come to this meeting with me and then help me pack up. I was moving home.

Chatting with the teenagers had actually been really therapeutic. A few of them brought samples of their work, some of which were brilliant; others actually brought LP Mayweather books with them for me to sign. It was all very relaxed with Harry moderating, and Mikey, Verity and Emily sitting in. I was glad I’d done it but now I just wanted to leave.

I gave Harry an apologetic smile. “No, you’re not droning on, I just have a really poor concentration span since…” I trailed off and Emily reached down to give my arm a squeeze, knowing to avoid my sensitive hands.

“We were really sorry to hear what happened at Moretti Harding,” Verity said softly.

My eyes flashed to her and she bit her lip.

“I’m sorry, Luce,” she said. “News travels fast in our business.”

My smile wavered. “Oh, right.”

“Lucy really doesn’t want to talk about it yet,” Emily said after an awkward silence. “I hope you understand. It’s all a bit fresh.”

It was like primary school all over again. I was free to be the daydreamer, to drift through life with Emily ready by my side to shield me. Just like Mikey used to do; just like he used to do.

Thinking about him made my chest ache and started that stupid prickling behind my eyes again. Why couldn’t I just forget about the silly sod? It had been nearly a week, and it still hit me in waves. I hated him, like real, real loathing. So why couldn’t I stop missing him with a deep ache that almost took my breath away? He’d let me down so badly. I’d totally misjudged him. I thought we had something real. I thought he felt the same.

But, when I looked back on it, I realised that was never the case. It was like the scales had fallen from my eyes now. He was never really mine, was he? He never really knew me at all. All those lectures on how to succeed in the real world. His way of succeeding with laser focus, business acumen, boring meetings, and cut-throat stuff. I mean, how could he have ever thought I was interested in that? I even told him that wasn’t me. How could he have had so little curiosity to not ask what was? Granted, he was curious now. Until I blocked him the number of voicemails and texts I received could attest to that.

Please, talk to me, Luce.

I’m sorry, Lucy. Don’t freeze me out.

Baby, please. I’m so sorry. Please let me see you’re okay.

Then there were the times he came to the house. Mikey wouldn’t let him in, which was just as well – I was an absolute mess. Mikey had had just about enough of Felix. He told me about how he’d “punched him in his designer-stubbled face” when he’d first seen Felix back at the office. And how the bloody idiot didn’t even bother to duck. “It’s like he wanted to be punched,” Mike had said.

Punching people is not my brother’s vibe at all, but I’d never seen him as angry as when he picked me up from that café. Me blubbing continuously after I got home and throughout the police interview didn’t help either, but he and Mum insisted that this time I had to report the incident to the police. By the time he saw Felix, he was about ready to blow.

The fact that this whole thing would drive a wedge between Felix and the rest of my family made me so achingly sad. Sure, over the last few years Felix had kept his distance. He never came back to Little Buckingham anymore, despite my mum periodically fussing him to visit his mum. Bianca Moretti and Mum were friends now. Mum said that Bianca was lonely and that she missed Felix; that he’d come home more if it wasn’t for “that bloody man”. (Mum’s never been a fan of Felix’s dad.) But now Mikey had vowed never to speak to Felix again.

Mum was very quiet on the phone when I told her what had happened. I spared her most of the details, but she got the gist of what went on. She was absolutely furious about Will – fully ready to grab her rolling pin and take the first train to London. I had to explain that “beating him to a pulp” with kitchen equipment might cause problems when we tried to convict him. But she wasn’t as angry with Felix as I expected.

“Stupid, stupid boy,” she’d muttered. “Never did know what’s good for him. That father of his did a real number on him.” There was no heat in her tone, just heavy disappointment.

I swallowed and focused back on Harry and his wife.

“Of course, Lucy,” Verity said in a shaky voice. “I wouldn’t have brought it up it’s just…” When I looked up at her I was surprised to see her eyes were wet. “Sorry, stupid pregnancy hormones.”

I swallowed as I felt my eyes start to sting as well. When I offered Verity a watery smile she let out a small sob and launched herself at me in a hug, pregnancy bump and all.

“Okay, darling,” Harry said gently to his wife. “Let Lucy breathe.”

Verity pulled back, wiping tears from under her eyes. “Sorry,” she said.

“No don’t apologise,” I told her. “Hugs are always good.”

When Harry’s arm went around my shoulders for a quick squeeze, I jumped to hear Felix’s voice cracking across the large space.

“York!”

We all turned towards him as he stormed across the atrium. His eyes were fixed on Harry’s arm, and a muscle was jumping in his jaw. Harry looked between us for a moment before a sly smirk took over his features.

“Moretti,” he said, tightening his arm so he was pulling me into his side. Felix’s eyes flashed. “What are you doing in my building?”

“Your building?”

I breathed a sigh of relief when Verity broke through the tension, slapping her husband on the chest as his arm went from around me to give his wife a hug and kiss the top of her head.

“I designed it, you cheeky sod,” she said to her husband and then turned towards Felix. There was a beat of awkward silence with both men staring daggers at each other. “Hello again, Felix.”

“Don’t even look at my wife,” Harry snapped at Felix before he could answer, moving in front of Verity to block her from Felix’s view. “And bugger off. I don’t want someone who would accuse me of industrial espionage in our building.”

“I apologised for that,” Felix said through gritted teeth and Harry narrowed his eyes.

“That’s all very well, but it’s my reputation you threatened. I could sue for defamation of character, you prick. As for what you did to Lucy⁠—”

“Lucy’s none of your business,” Felix spat out.

“Oh really?” Harry taunted. “She’s more my business than yours apparently. Look what happened to her when you made her your business?”

You could cut the testosterone with a knife, which was completely ridiculous, but I wasn’t about to make a scene in the middle of⁠—

“Fuck off, city wanker,” spat out Emily, as she strode over to us, back from her loo break. Emily had never been afraid of a scene. “Who let this dickhead in?” She walked right up to Felix and gave his shoulder a hard shove. He barely moved, but his gaze did flick down to her.

“Hello, Emily,” he said evenly. I was surprised he remembered her. Felix always seemed so above me and my friends back in Little Buckingham.

“You’re leaving,” she said as she gave him another hard shove, this time with both hands. He still didn’t move. It was like his body was made of stone. Probably from his stupid gym in his stupid house. Vain prick. It’s not like he needed all those muscles for the boardroom. Anyway, I didn’t care about him and his stupid muscles now. At least that’s what I told myself, ignoring the fact that my stomach was flipping and the yearning I had to walk into those muscular arms was so strong I almost couldn’t catch my breath.

“I need to talk to Lucy,” he said, his gaze going from a now red-faced Emily, who was still putting all her force behind trying to shove Felix out of the building, to me. She carried on shoving and grunting, but his eyes and focus never wavered from my face. He looked like shit. I mean, don’t get me wrong, on a hotness scale of one to smokin’ he was still a solid eleven. But his tie was loose, and his shirt was a good few days past needing an iron, and his stubble was no longer designer – it had progressed into a thick, scruffy beard. My chest felt tight. Was he missing me as much as I missed him? I took a step back, fighting against the urge to go to him and forcing down the acute need to hold him. This wasn’t my Felix. That Felix had never really existed.

“She’s,” Emily gave another shove, “not,” another shove (harder this time), “going,” she was now breathing hard as she gave Felix a continuous push, her feet sliding on the floor unable to get a proper grip, “to speak,” another grunt, “to you,” a growl, “you fucking prick.”

One of her feet did slip then, but Felix grabbed her by both shoulders to steady her, then lifted her gently in the air and put her on her feet to the side while muttering, “Careful, you’ll hurt yourself.” Emily was red with rage now. She was not the type of woman able to tolerate being lifted off her feet with very little apparent effort and set to the side. Emily simply wasn’t the type of human you set to the side at all. Her face started screwing up and I could see a serious escalation in the offing.

“Em,” I said, and everyone’s gaze shot to mine. “Stand down.”

Emily huffed and crossed her arms, but she didn’t go back to physical assault, so I took that as progress. When I was sure that she was no longer in attack mode, I transferred my gaze to Felix. His eyes scanned my face as if he was memorising every inch of it. He took a step towards me, and I took a corresponding one back. His eyes dropped to my feet, and he frowned, but he didn’t step closer again. Then he did something so un-Felix, so earnest, it almost shook my resolve. Whilst holding eye contact with me, his blank expression cracked, and naked pain flashed across his features.

“Please,” he whispered; despite the buzz of the room, it was like he’d whispered it directly into my ear. The raw quality of his voice, the absolute desperation had me rocking forward onto my toes. I was so close to just going to him. He tensed at my movement, his whole body on alert, muscles bunched in tension, practically shaking in an effort to hold himself back. But then I remembered. Felix didn’t care about me. He fired me. He hadn’t protected me. He didn’t like who I was, and he had never really bothered to replace out anyway. So I rocked back on my heels, taking another small step back. Felix’s eyes flashed before he closed them slowly.

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you, Moretti,” Harry’s voice filled the silence. He was enjoying this. “So, I’ll repeat: get out of our goddamn building.”

Felix ignored Harry, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a copy of my book.

“I’ll leave once I talk to Lucy,” he said, still staring at me.

“Moretti—”

“For fuck’s sa—” Emily started, but I cut her off.

“It’s fine,” I said, just wanting to get this over with. I took a deep breath in and out and walked towards Felix, away from the others. His chest deflated as he let out the breath he must have been holding.

“Lucy… Are you okay?” he asked when I stopped a couple of feet away. Now that I was closer I could really see how terrible he looked. His cheeks were a little more hollow, like he’d lost weight, and there were dark circles under his slightly bloodshot eyes, “I had to see you. I’m so sorry. Lucy, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I should have listened to you. I should never have⁠—”

“How did you know I was here?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He cleared his throat and darted a look at the interested bystanders, two flags of colour riding high on his cheekbones. “I may have had some security watching your flat.”

My eyebrows went up. “What on earth?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, that desperate quality still to his voice. “But I was so worried. I can’t eat, can’t sleep. I just needed to know you were okay. And Will is still out there.”

“Felix, that’s mad.”

“I just can’t get it out of my head.” He swallowed and his red-rimmed eyes got redder. “Lucy, I saw the video. He hurt you. Your head bounced of the wall like…”

Felix trailed off as he paled so much under his tan I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You can see I’m fine,” I snapped, ignoring the throbbing pain in my fingers. To be honest the lasting injuries weren’t from Will’s assault, they were from being thrown out into the freezing cold and developing frostnip on my fingers.

Felix blinked at me and then looked down at the book clutched in his hand.

“You wrote my story,” he said, so low that only I could hear, his words weighted, heavy with emotion. That meant something to him. That I used that story as the basis for my first novel meant a lot to him. I swallowed and then cleared my throat.

“It’s not yours,” I whispered, stepping closer to snatch the book from him but he held onto it, giving his head a small shake.

“You told it to me first. I’m the original LP Mayweather fan. All this lot are a load of Jonny-come-latelys. I knew how talented you were before anyone else. I was the first to believe in you.”

I rolled my eyes, still unable to drop my hold on the book, to break the connection. “Some fan. You didn’t even know they were published.”

“You never told me.” There was a hint of accusation and, to my surprise, hurt in his words. “How could you not tell me?”

Anger flashed through me, and I gave the book a tug. He didn’t deserve my bloody book. “And when would I have done that, Felix? When did you let me explain? When did you actually ask me what I’d been doing all these years?”

“Lucy, I⁠—”

“No,” I snapped, giving the book another tug, but he refused to let go. “You don’t get to make excuses. Do you know how much I knew about you before I came up to London? How rabid for information I always was from Mikey? How I scoured those glossy magazines, buying all the ones with you in them with some actress, model or popstar? God, I’m pathetic.”

Felix groaned. “No, Lucy. No, please don’t say that. You were just a kid when I left. If I’d have known you in the last few years, really known you, then I would have devoured every word you’d ever written. I’d have stalked you way worse than you did me.”

“Yes, but you did know me after I moved here. At least you thought you did.”

Felix huffed in frustration. “You never told me. If you’d just told me then⁠—”

“Okay,” I conceded. “I should have told you about the books. I never actually lied, and I would have told you if you’d ever asked me once about what I’d been up to.” He winced at that, the flashes of colour staining his cheekbones again. “And I know I should have made sure you understood what I was doing working at your company. That wasn’t fair. Although when I did try to explain a few times, you cut me off. But I accept that I was essentially lying by omission, and you didn’t deserve it. But how could you think me capable of selling secrets to a competitor? How could you even think for a moment that I would sell you out?”

“Luce,” he said, that pleading quality back in his voice. “You’ve got to understand what it looked like. And there’s been… listen, I’ve been fucked over relentlessly since uni. I should have talked to you about what happened with my ex and about how wary it made me. She really betrayed my trust. I–I can’t get into the details but I was completely taken in by her. I’m jaded and cynical, and I… I just jumped to a stupid conclusion.”

“I’m sorry you were fucked over,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “But you’ve known me forever. That’s not me. I thought—” I broke off to take a deep breath and swallowed. “I thought we were…” I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to look into his when I said it and lowered my voice to a whisper. “I was falling in love with you.”

“Well, I fell in love with you the night I fed you Marmite toast next to my Aga… in fact, no, that’s not right. I fell in love with you when I was an angry, hurt thirteen-year-old who was transported to another world by your stories. That’s how long you’ve been it for me. I was just too stupid and fucked up to see it.”

I felt my eyes prick again, and this time, the hot tears did form. I let go of the book, my hand going up to my mouth as I stifled a sob and took a couple of steps back.

“Right,” snapped Emily as she stepped between us, “that’s it, city dickhead. You’ve made her cry, so your time’s up. Get. Out.”

“Yeah,” put in Harry York as he came up next to Emily to further block Felix from me, assuming a wide stance and crossing his arms over his chest. “Time’s up, mate. Why don’t you get out before I put you out.”

“As if you could,” Felix muttered grumpily. “But fine.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I’ll go. But I’ll wait, Luce. Forever if I have to.” I peered around Emily to look at him. He was wearing the same determined expression he used to have as a child when he wanted something. I couldn’t remember a single time back then that he didn’t succeed, and I didn’t want to know what that meant for me.