After All - Part Two

Chapter Two 

Mattie tried desperately to organise things on her hard drive, if she looked in control then she’d stand more chance wouldn’t she? She was plagued with self doubt, had she always been like that? She couldn’t remember a time when she felt confident, so much had happened in the last ten years to change her as a person.  Maybe losing her mother was the trigger, it had been so hard, she’d felt so bereft, so alone. And her mother had been her greatest ally. Her father was a shadow since losing the love of his life, and with her brother now settled in Thailand, he was spending large parts of the year staying beside the beach with him. She’d lost her friends when she’d lost her livelihood, her money, her future, and her prospects. All that she had left were her clothes and the grim bedsit she rented in Leyton.

How could one have prospects, ambition or confidence when you had no one or nothing to reinforce it? The successes of her teenage years, and her first class degree from the London School of Business seemed such a long time ago, that it was almost like a different life, a different person.

Angry with herself she clicked her fingers, wanted to snap out of it. Now wasn’t the time to be morose, she needed to shake her low mood and focus. She suddenly had no idea what the future would bring, she could be fighting for her life with the arrival of this man, and that was the important thing now. That she proved her value, held things together, there was no place in her life for negativity.

She was as ready as she could be. Checking her reflection once more in her makeshift changing room, she knew she looked as good as she could, considering she’d slept the night on the small sofa. Mattie straightened her jacket over her dark green dress that was demure and she hoped elegant, her dark hair was pulled up onto her head in a neat pleat, her makeup was understated, her heels business appropriate and supplemented her five seven frame. She could do nothing to change her appearance. She was never going to be a stress free teen anymore, and with lumps, bumps and imperfections came strength and diversity. That was the hope. The rest? Well she’d have to find out.

Dylan Wallace looked around the reception of the hotel. He was still gutted that he’d agreed to this, he had SO much happening in New York that the last thing he needed was a time off the beaten track sorting out a small time golf club. In the last four years he’d made some huge big decisions, he’d always been instinctive some would say reckless, but he didn’t agree. In life you had to speculate to accumulate. And whilst he’d had years of struggling, living hand to mouth, the last few years his shop had come in...repeatedly. He was finally living the life he’d always imagined. He had a huge loft penthouse in Manhattan, offices and a personal assistant in both London and New York, and he drank cocktails and champagne in the greatest bars, the most exclusive restaurants in the world. Monday afternoon he was meeting an associate in the Ritz; his diary was filling up daily now that his presence back in the UK was becoming better known.

Damn Maria Simmonds for catching him at a vulnerable moment. And that was all it was, he’d had a few drinks alone in a hotel in Manhattan. Despite his success, his wealth, he still had memories of more difficult times, and it was whilst he was remembering some poignant memories that she had burst in, pleading with him to help her. She was a friend of his mother, and as with his mother, he felt guilty, and obligated to doing the right thing. It wasn’t a huge thing for him to do, not logistically, but it was the wrong time. So instead of managing his time effectively, her husband Paul was paying the ‘going rate’ for him to work his magic on the complex he had just walked into. But for him it wasn’t about money, it never was.

Studying the foyer for a moment, he noted the shabby decor, the dated desk. The receptionist was ending a call, and looked up with a dazzling smile as he approached; she was a ray of light in the dim unassuming building. Plastering on his best smile he walked up to the desk.

                “Hi, I’m Dylan Wallace, I’m here as a guest of Mr Simmonds.”

The woman gave him a flirtatious smile, he was more than in tune to her, he was used to attention from women, he knew how to handle things, “we’ve been expecting you Mr Wallace.” She said seamlessly. “Our manager will be out to show you around the hotel and facilities then on to your suite in just a few moments. Can I order you some coffee first?”

He shook his head, he wanted a shower more than anything, he’d travelled over night after a fairly significant issue at his latest acquisition, a software company based in Brooklyn. Instead of flying in, heading to his Knightsbridge apartment to catch up, he’d had to take a later flight and come straight to this job. He liked to arrive on the weekend with a job like this, his experience told him that nine o’clock on a Monday morning was usually when a company, business or in this case golf club and hotel, were functioning at their very best. Saturday lunchtime was usually a different story. He liked to catch people off guard, see things as they really were.

He shook his head at the blond, Hermione according to her name badge, “no thank you Hermione, I have been travelling most of the night, I need a shower, and a change.” He glanced around, “I’m sure I can find the manager’s office.”

                “Can you inform Mr Davies I’m on my way?”

Striding into reception Mattie glanced across the expanse of the room to see a man talking to Hermione, he was tall and distinguished looking, his short dark hair neat, his shoulders broad, and at well over six feet he was towering over the desk and though she couldn’t see his face she could see the distress on Hermione’s face. He was giving her a hard time, with a sigh she stepped towards him, gritting her teeth.

It wasn’t until he half turned, that she saw his profile, noted the straight nose, strong jaw and eyelashes that looked as though they had been lengthened and darkened with the most expensive mascara. It stunned her into silence, frozen there for a moment.

Hermione was never flustered, and that fact that she was now, her uncertainty meant her words seemed to penetrate Mattie’s confusion.

                “Ah here’s the manager now, as I was trying to tell you Mr Wallace, Mattie Davies is a SHE not a HE!”

As Hermione addressed him she heard the name and any doubt in who was stood in front of her melted away. Taking a deep breath she tried to scrape the look of shock off her face as Dylan Wallace turned to greet her. Like she needed an introduction, she knew EXACTLY who this man was, and more importantly WHAT he was. As she fought off nausea and an inclination to faint, she wondered what evil twist of fate had brought that man back into her life.

Dylan stood looking at her; the surprise that learning Mattie Davies wasn’t a man had long since disappeared. Now surprise had been replaced by shock and amazement. She knew she was staring, but she was mesmerised as well as angry and repulsed. He looked amazing, time had been good to him, but his healthy looking tan seemed to evaporate as his mouth opened in disbelief, and his eyes widened as he looked her slowly up and down.

                “Matilda. Mattie...” he hit his forehead with his hand in a ‘stupid me’ gesture, “I had no idea...”

                “Would you have avoided this ‘job’ if you’d known?” her voice hitched on the raw emotion and painful memories that his appearance instantly conjured up, and she hated that.

He shook his head as he walked towards her, “not at all. You look...” Again his eyes leisurely studied her top to bottom and back up, and she hated that it made her heart race, “...good. But then you always did.”

It was just like Dylan, he could make the word ‘good’ sound like ambrosia, she’d fallen for that so many times in the past. But she wasn’t the same person anymore. Mattie tried to keep her head afloat, her eyes clear, and her mind away from flattery. She had no idea how this fly-by-night taker and abuser had become such a revered business man, a trouble shooter, someone brought into sort things out, the man she knew only caused trouble. But now...in front of her employees was not the time to air that dirty laundry.

Instead she inclined her head slightly, but spoke with a cool, clear voice - which took all her control to maintain, “thanks. Your suite is ready. John will show you up to it.” She gestured to a man stood behind her, “if you let me know what you need to see, look at...I’ve had an office freed for you in the golf club. John or Hermione here will be able to show you to it.”

She gave a brief nod dismissing him, knowing that would infuriate him, but she needed that upper hand, she feared it might be a rare occasion. With a swagger in her stride that she hoped hid her anxiety, she walked away as calmly as her shaking legs would allow. But as the door to her office closed behind her, she collapsed against it sobbing, her legs gave way. By the time her bottom hit the floor, tears were coursing down her cheeks.

It was six years since she’d last set eyes on Dylan Wallace, and five years since their divorce was final. Most of the time she fought to forget that she’d ever been married, but suddenly, her ex husband was in the middle of the world she’d fought to rebuild from the ashes he’d left in his wake, and she had no idea how she’d deal with that, or him.