Page 209 of Guilty Pleasures

So with everything going so well, why did she feel so desolate? It was crushingly obvious. All her fears about her relationship with Rob were coming true: he wasn’t there when she needed him, he wasn’t there to hold her at night and he wasn’t there to make her heart flutter with a shared look or a smile. What was the point of all these achievements and successes if you had to experience them on your own? She wanted Rob to be there to discuss the day’s little triumphs and disappointments, she wanted work to be part of her life, not to define it so absolutely that it excluded everything else. Emma spun round in her chair again. Come on, Emma, she told herself, you didn’t go through all this to give up now.

Twelve months. That’s all they had to get through. Twelve months of long-distance love. Already she had identified a retail space on Madison Avenue that would be ideal for a new US Milford store. Then perhaps, maybe – definitely – she would base herself for part of the month in New York. And just then, Emma had a sudden, clear thought of what she wanted to do. She picked up her phone and called Spencer Fairfield, a senior fashion industry executive with over twenty years’ experience at YSL, Gucci and Bottega Veneta and whom she had just appointed as her number two to fill the hole left by Ruan.

‘Spencer, something’s come up,’ she said. ‘I won’t be in the office Monday to Wednesday. Will you be all right?’

After he confirmed that he was quite capable of holding the fort in her absence, she flipped through her Rolodex and dialled a number. Janine Colman was a travel agent Milford kept on a retainer to sort out flights, hotels, cars for the Fashion Week shows and other trips to source leather or fabric.

‘Hi, Janine,’ she said. ‘It’s Emma Bailey. Can you get me on a flight to LAX tomorrow morning?’

‘I’m sure I can, but it will cost you.’

‘I don’t care. Please, just try and make it happen.’

Emma put down the phone, feeling light-headed but free, and moved towards the door, grabbing her coat. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor and she froze, momentarily flooded by memories of a woman in a long coat holding a gun.

‘Hey, stranger,’ said a deep voice.

‘Rob!’ cried Emma, running up and wrapping herself around him. Rob dropped his bag on the floor with a thump and cupped her face in his hands, smothering her questions with kisses.

‘Rob, what the hell are you doing here?’ she asked breathlessly when he finally released her.

‘I could say the same about you. It’s gone 8 p.m. and I’m cooking you dinner.’

She looked at him bemused. ‘But shouldn’t you be in LA tomorrow morning?’

‘Someone else is dealing with it. William Conran, the new CEO.’

‘But you’re the new CEO.’

‘No, I was going to be the CEO. I’ve decided to stay at Hollander Music UK,’ he smiled, taking her hands in his.

‘Why?’

‘For us. For you.’

She felt panic and guilt clutch at her heart.

‘Rob, don’t throw away your career for me!’

‘I’m not throwing anything away,’ he said, his eyes honest and bright. ‘Look at me.’ He was in a conservative dark blue suit, his new corporate image a world away from the laid-back jeans and T-shirted Rob Holland she had fallen for.

‘Looks pretty good to me,’ she laughed, threading her arms around his neck.

‘I’m 38 years old,’ said Rob steadily. ‘Do I want to be CEO of Hollander Media? Absolutely, one day. But the truth is I’m not ready for the boardroom and the golf course – I’m still crazy for the music. William Conran is more than capable of running the company; in fact he’s been Dad’s right-hand man for twenty years. I’d trust him with every cent I own. He’s 62 this year and when he steps down, well then maybe, hopefully, I’ll be in the position to take the job. If, that is, I’m done with the music and if you’re ready to head up Milford in the States.’

Beaming at his wisdom, generosity and – whatever he said – his willingness to make a sacrifice for their relationship, she felt a surge of love that overpowered her with its intensity and fat tears of happiness began to roll down her cheeks.

‘Hey, you do know there’s more to life than just work?’ he said stroking her hot cheek with his finger.

She nodded. ‘I know. I’ve just booked a flight to LA to be with you.’

He held her close, breathing the same air.

‘I love you, Emma Bailey. I love you more than all the love songs there ever were.’

‘She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she whispered.

‘You’re definitely learning,’ he said giving her a cheeky grin. ‘But I think we’ve got a long way to go.’