‘I don’t know, Karla.’ Jason looked back at her, his jaw tensing. ‘Can we?’
Looking as weary as he felt, Karla sighed heavily and turned towards the kitchen.
Jason followed. He supposed the fact that she wanted to prepare him before pushing him into the lion’s den was at least something. She should know, though, that whatever forecasts of doom her loving father had tried to influence her with, he wasn’t going to go for it. He would rather walk out now than keep arguing with Karla over this. Which would, of course, be giving Fenton exactly what he wanted. How would the man feel if he actually did that? Jason couldn’t help but wonder. Having fought so hard to get him out of Karla’s life, he had no doubt he would revel in his victory, but would he have any remorse, any sense of shame at all, that he might have done it at the cost of his daughter’s happiness, his grandchildren’s? Jason didn’t think so. Robert Fenton didn’t care whose emotions he trampled on to get what he wanted. He had one aim in life, and that was to win at whatever cost.
Karla waited for him to close the kitchen door, and then, ‘I didn’t know he was coming,’ she said quickly.
‘Yeah, right.’ Emitting a scornful laugh, Jason shook his head.
‘Jason, I didn’t.’ Karla’s voice bordered on desperate.
‘Right, so’ – Jason glanced back at her, unconvinced – ‘he just dropped by for a cosy chat and a cup of tea with his daughter? In which case, I can go up and take a shower and leave you two to it, can I?’
Sighing, Karla lowered her gaze and pressed her fingers hard to her forehead. ‘He was hoping to have a word with you, but—’
‘No, Karla,’ Jason stated categorically. He wasn’t about to go through it all again – the reasons he would never consider accepting any proposition her father had to offer. He’d already said it, time and time again. Even in the wildest scenario – that the man wouldn’t try to control their lives – Jason needed to be the one to provide for his family. If his reasons weren’t good enough for Karla, then… He didn’t know what then, but he’d had enough of this.
‘Jason, stop,’ Karla said, as he turned back to the door. ‘Talk to me, please.’
‘About what?’ Jason faced her, his temper rising, despite his best efforts not to let it. ‘What do you want me to say that hasn’t already been said, especially withhimsitting on the other side of that wall?’ He nodded angrily towards the lounge. ‘The answer is no, Karla. I can’t do it. Could you please justacceptthat and ask him to—’
‘Right. Fine,’ Karla cut across him. ‘Don’t then.’ She held her hands up, as if in resignation. ‘I understand. You don’t think I do, but I do. We’ll manage on my wage if we have to.’
That hit home. There was no way they would manage for long on Karla’s income alone, not now they’d taken out a mortgage on the house. Glancing down, Jason drew in a long breath. ‘It won’t come to that, Karla,’ he said, his gut tightening as he reminded himself he would not only be jobless if his company went under, but also up to his eyes in debt. Karla had a trust fund, due to her when she was forty – Fenton had made sure she wouldn’t see a penny before then – but how could Jason ever justify forcing her to use that money to pay their way because of his pride?
‘It might well,’ Karla reminded him soberly. ‘And I’ll stand by you, you know I will. I always have. But on one condition, Jason.’
Wondering where this might be leading, Jason looked curiously back at her.
‘You have to stop this ludicrous battle of wills with my father,’ Karla announced.
‘I have to?’ Jason laughed, amazed.
‘Yes, you,’ Karla said forcefully. ‘He is what he is – I don’t need to be constantly reminded of that. But, whatever he is, he’s the only person you’re likely to get the financial help you need from. If you won’t accept that help, then you have to sell the business. It’s either that or end up in the bankruptcy court, and then you really will have messed up our future.’
‘I see.’ Nodding slowly, Jason digested. Great move, Karla.So, it’s either give up and sell up or sell my soul to your father?’
‘Yes.’ Karla held his gaze. ‘You’re giving him exactly what he wants by refusing. He won’t need to work at destroying our marriage if we go on like this. We’re doing it for him by arguing all the time. Can’t you see?’ She searched his face, her expression imploring. ‘Because if you can’t, our children can. They’re aware of what’s going on. You must know they are. Can you not just stop this? Accept defeat? If not for me, then for them?’
Feeling that like a low body blow, Jason drew in a long breath. ‘Right,’ he said, breathing out slowly. ‘Message understood.’ Or rather ultimatum, one undoubtedly suggested by her delightful father. ‘Do you mind if I go, now you’ve delivered it?’
‘Oh, I give up. Just… do what you like. You probably will anyway.’ Looking him over disappointedly, Karla turned away, going across to the oven to pull it open and start dragging out dishes.
Which meant what? Exasperated, Jason watched as she carried the dishes across to the work surface. Banging them down, she retrieved the tin foil from the drawer underneath and set about covering them.
His gaze went to the dining table at the far end of the kitchen, which was set for two, he noticed, and with two candles which had obviously been recently snuffed out, judging by the smell of candle wax and smoke. He looked back to Karla. She was wearing make-up, or had been. She was wiping most of it from her face now, along with her tears. She was also wearing the dress he loved her in. A clingy, short red dress. She’d worn it in Paris last year. It had been the first romantic break they’d had in a very long time, when his sister, Hannah, had offered to have the kids so they could do something special for their anniversary. Fitting in all the right places and showing off her long legs to maximum advantage, the dress had turned him on. It had turned the waiter who was serving them on. Karla had looked hot that night. Jason had been desperate to get her out of the restaurant, back to the hotel and out of the dress to make slow, sensual love to her. His plans hadn’t quite worked out.
They’d strolled along the ?Promenade Plantée, which had been bursting with cherry trees, wildflowers and spring aromas. They’d wanted to take in the alternative views of Paris: tucked-away rooftops and balconies. They’d smelled the flowers, but they hadn’t actually enjoyed much of the views. Karla had kept the dress on while they’d made love with the lust-fuelled urgency that doing it al fresco brings.
She was wearing the dress tonight for him. She’d got the kids up to bed early and had been cooking a special meal for him. She hadn’t known her father was coming.
Jason felt like the worst kind of hypocrite ever, assuring himself he cared more about her than her phony father ever could, that he was taking a belligerent stance in order to somehow protect her from being at the man’s beck and call. It was bullshit. He just couldn’t accept failure. He had been refusing to consider the cost of putting his ego above the real needs of his family.Christ.What the hell was wrong with him? ‘Karla…’ He stepped towards her, wanting to apologise, to try to make things right.
‘Oh, you might want this.’ Karla stopped him, moving away as he attempted to thread an arm around her waist. ‘Nice profile photograph, by the way.’ Picking up his phone from the work surface, she handed it to him.
‘Profile…?’ Jason’s confused gaze shot from his phone to her.
Karla said nothing, eyeing him meaningfully instead, before turning away to walk across to the dining table and pour herself a large glass of wine.
