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“I—I hope it’s okay that I brought casual clothes for the weekend.”
He frowns, his eyes settling on mine at last. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because we’re here to work, and as I told you at my interview, I normally function better in suits. It’s just…”
He holds up his hand, and I stop talking. “It’s fine. As I told you at your interview, I want you to feel comfortable.”
He picks up the knife again, resuming his chopping, and I wander over. “What are you cooking?”
“This is the salad that’s gonna go with our chicken.”
I nod my head. “Where did all the food come from?” We certainly didn’t bring it with us.
“If Pat isn’t here – which doesn’t happen very often – she always leaves the refrigerator stocked.”
“So, you come here every weekend, do you?”
“Yes.”
“And is that why the bed in my room was made up, and there were towels in the bathroom?”
He puts the knife down again and leans closer to me. “The beds are always made up.”
“In case you should bring a guest?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not in the habit of bringing people here.”
“Why? It’s lovely.”
“I know. But this is my home. It’s where I come to unwind… to get away from it all.”
“Then why am I here? Why did you invite me? We could have worked at the office just as easily.”
He leans in across the island unit, at the same moment as his phone rings and he closes his eyes, muttering, “Shit,” under his breath. “Sorry,” he says, and I shake my head as he pulls out his phone and frowns at the screen. “It’s Keira… I’d better take it.”
He steps away, pressing the screen and holding the phone to his ear.
“Hi,” he says and then waits, glancing over at me. “I’m with her now. Shall I put the phone on speaker?” She obviously says ‘no’, because he doesn’t, and he tips his head to one side, his brow furrowing. “What does that mean?” he asks and then listens for a minute or two. “Okay. I’ll let her know. Thanks for calling.”
He hangs up and comes back over, putting his phone on the countertop.
“What did she want?” I ask.
“To tell us that your former boss has been officially charged with stalking.”
I feel a claw of fear creep up my spine. “Does that mean I’ll have to go to court?”
“I don’t think so. Keira said that because he’s confessed, she thinks he’s likely to plead guilty, which means you won’t have to testify. But if you do, I’ll be there with you… I promise.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank you.”
He moves closer again, although there are still three feet of island unit between us. “Do you really wanna do something to thank me?”
That claw of fear is replaced by a tingle of anticipation. “What did you have in mind?”
“An explanation.”
I can’t describe my disappointment, but I swallow it down, along with my anticipation. “An explanation of what?”
