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‘Eleanor!’
I turn to see Lucy waving a frantic hand over her head, a bowl of salad in the other. She was more than intrigued when I texted to see if she was up for a lunchtime rendezvous in the park.
I stop and lean down to hook up Winston to his lead, letting out a sardonic burst of laughter when he grumbles in protest. ‘You were hardly making the most of your freedom,’ I say. ‘Quit complaining.’
‘Talking to a hound?’ Lucy asks as she reaches us, looking down at Winston.
I straighten up and we start walking slowly down the pathway.
‘Who does the dog belong to?’
I give her a tired look. ‘My boss.’
‘He makes you walk his dog?’ Her disgust is obvious as she rearranges her bag on her shoulder. ‘What are you, his skivvy?’
My hackles rise. ‘I’m not his skivvy. I offered, and Winston seems to have taken a shine to me.’
‘Okay,’ Lucy says slowly, studying me with a forkful of salad halfway to her mouth. I look away, trying to conceal my irritation. ‘How was your date with Brent Wilson?’
I shrug. ‘All right.’
‘All right? So why the emergency meeting?’
‘Just because,’ I snap a little too harshly.
‘Jesus,’ Lucy breathes. ‘Who’s pulled your chain?’
‘No one,’ I answer dismissively, at the same time wondering why I don’t tell her when the reason I called her was to vent. To spill it all out. To find some reason from a sound mind, since mine constantly delves into dangerous places.
Lucy doesn’t come back with any kind of retort, leaving a stretched quiet for her to fill with many silent assumptions. My curious mind begins to wonder if she’s on the right track, and I peek out the corner of my eye to gauge her expression.
She’s grinning. ‘Is no one tall and lean with mousy hair?’ she asks.
I look away.
‘Is no one sinfully handsome, has a lovely straight nose, and a delicious body?’
‘I never said he has a delicious body.’
‘I bet he has, though, hasn’t he?’
I sniff, tugging at Winston when he veers off the path a little. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Does no one have gorgeous take-me-to-bed eyes behind seriously hot glasses?’
I’m attacked by mental images of no one. ‘He kissed me.’
Lucy laughs. ‘I knew it.’
‘It was incredible. Then Winston here interrupted, and it became uncomfortable. I feel stupid, it really shouldn’t have happened, and now I’m worried I won’t be able to work for him because of the awkwardness, or Mr H might fire me if he finds out.’
‘Oh.’ Lucy gives me a sympathetic look.
‘He’s in therapy,’ I say, after a pause.
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know. Being an arsehole, I expect.’ I wince, thinking about his parents and how he tragically lost them both.
Lucy laughs lightly. ‘Which do you want more?’
‘Huh?’
‘Which do you want more? Him or your job?’
I laugh. The question warrants it because the answer is very easy. ‘The job.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I love it and it could be permanent or lead to other amazing opportunities,’ I reply with no hesitation, sounding sure. I feel even better when Lucy nods her understanding. ‘I can’t risk a secure, long-term future for an uncertain, short-term fling with Becker Hunt.’
‘Uncertain?’ she asks. ‘What makes it uncertain?’
‘You’ve seen the pictures. He’s a womaniser – a modern-day Casanova with eyes you want to melt in.’
‘You could be different for him.’
Her innocent statement sucker-punches me in the stomach, reminding me of the same words Becker said to his grandad. She might be different. ‘I don’t think so.’ I laugh nervously and reach up to my nape, feeling his hold there. He’s dangerous. Rough and dirty. It doesn’t escape my notice that I didn’t give two shits about that when I was caught in the moment, being told to shut up when I so much as murmured. Hot sex. I was pretty sure it would be mind-blowing before our steamy kiss in the kitchen. He’s a god. Woman fall to their knees for him. Now I know, beyond all doubt, that Becker’s reputation precedes him. And though it physically pains me to admit it, I also know, worryingly, that I want him more than ever before. Hearing his vulnerable side when he argued with his grandfather shifted things. Outside the library, when he softly urged me to stop shaking, and then in the kitchen, where he was gentle and soft with me. Yes, he’s harsh and unyielding, cocky and arrogant, but I discovered today that he’s also tender. It’s made him even more irresistible, and I never would have thought that possible. The way he looked at me. The torn expression on his face, like he was wrestling with an unconquerable opponent. I could be different?
I look at Lucy and she smiles as she drops her half-eaten salad into a bin. ‘I’ll be okay,’ I say lamely. Lucy isn’t daft, and even though we haven’t known each other long, she gets that I need to put the earlier events at the very back of my mind.
