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‘I’m fine, thank you. So when are you going?’
‘Soon. Very soon. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.’ He picked up a set of keys. Was Ruiz offering Holly the keys to his house? Why? ‘Do you want me to keep an eye on the place w
hile you’re away?’ She was happy to do so.
‘No, that’s okay—but thanks for the offer. I have employed a live-in housekeeper who will have her own apartment on site.’ He ruffled Bouncer’s ears. Having padded into the room in search of company, the big dog had settled down between them. ‘The town house is a much better option than here,’ Ruiz went on. ‘There’s a proper garden, plus a large communal garden that leads on to the park.’
‘That’s great.’ She kept it light. ‘But I’m not sure I can afford the rent …’
‘That’s very funny,’ Ruiz said, shaking his head, but his eyes were cold as he stared at her. ‘I’m talking about Bouncer moving back there. You’ll stay here, won’t you, Holly? At least until you find somewhere else to live. No hurry,’ he stressed.
‘Of course.’ She laughed. She smiled. She died a little more inside. She should have known Ruiz’s forward planning was all about his dog. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be here long. I’ve found several flats to look at in the next couple of days—’
‘Well, that’s great,’ Ruiz agreed. ‘But you know you can stay on here as long as you want.’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘Okay.’ He shrugged. ‘Whatever you want, Holly …’
‘I thought I’d move closer to the office.’
Ruiz made no comment and it was a relief to get up and turn away. New Holly didn’t long for things she couldn’t have. She didn’t risk her heart or her bank account. And she certainly didn’t risk her career, Holly told herself fiercely, fighting back tears.
CHAPTER NINE
Concerned you might be left on the shelf? Don’t be. Just think—no shirts to iron, no meals to cook, and you can eat chocolate éclairs for supper every night of your life.
Light-bulb moment, why? Because wallowing in misery isn’t for me, the new me. Friend to lover and back to friends again. I’m told this shift of position is possible if handled correctly. And because I love this man’s sister as if she were my own and I don’t want to hurt her, I’m determined to make it back to friends with him.
And the playboy? Who knows what he thinks? He’s off to Argentina and a life of which I will never be a part. I have to say he seems preoccupied. Perhaps he’s concerned he’s been out of the game too long and might not come up to scratch when he returns to play top class polo. Whatever his problem, one thing I’m sure about—it has nothing to do with me.
HOLLY kept her head down next day at the office. Work was the only thing that numbed the pain of thinking about Ruiz resuming the life of a playboy in the next couple of days, surrounded by sloe-eyed señoritas in Argentina. Work, as well as time-tabling visits to likely rental properties throughout the capital …
‘You haven’t forgotten it’s the Christmas party tonight, have you?’ Freya reminded Holly later that same afternoon.
‘Hmm?’ Holly barely looked up as she hammered away on her keyboard.
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Freya pressed.
‘I heard you, but I have to work.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Holly. You haven’t even stopped for lunch,’ Freya protested.
‘We’re not letting you get out of it,’ several more girls chorused as they gathered round Holly’s desk.
‘You haven’t forgotten the Christmas party is at the samba club, have you?’ Freya prompted, exchanging glances with her friends.
How could she forget? Another good reason for not going to the party, Holly reasoned, thinking of Ruiz and keeping her head down when the girls shrieked ‘Ole!’ while putting in a bit of skirt-twirling and pouting practice.
‘Hot men, fast music, free drinks. How can you pass that up?’ Freya demanded.
‘Easily,’ Holly murmured, keeping her attention fixed on the screen.
‘Well, we’re not going without you,’ Freya said flatly.
‘Then none of us will go,’ Holly flashed, immediately regretting her outburst when she saw the hurt and surprise on Freya’s face. But how could she go to the samba club with all that it meant to her? It had been such a special night with Ruiz—a night she would never be able to recreate or forget, and she didn’t want to try. ‘Please, Freya. I’ve still got so much to do,’ she pleaded, offering her last piece of chocolate, which Freya refused. ‘Some other night, perhaps.’
‘Holly, this is the Christmas party,’ Freya pointed out. ‘It won’t come around again until next year. You never stop working. You’re in serious danger of—’
