Page 31 of The Forbidden Fling

Diana crossed one leg over the other, leaning into the wooden bench hidden beneath the pergola and its canopy of flowers. The air closed thick around her, pressing her dress against her skin with sweat. At least the courtyard, being high up, brought a nice breeze from the cliffs, carrying the tickle of pollen to her nose.

Diana refreshed her phone with a swipe of her finger. Since Faye had mentioned the Wi-Fi at reception, she saw no harm in seeing what she’d been missing. She still stiffened with every passerby, though, like her phone was contraband.

The spotty Wi-Fi did little to ease her frustration.

She huffed, tapping the screen impatiently. She was better off not knowing than watching the buffering sign spin in lazy circles.

An awful realisation pinged into her brain—what if nobody had actually contacted her?

Feeling another flush, she undid a button on her dress.

She felt out of control without her day-to-day tasks, endless students needing assistance, and colleagues peppering her with questions. With Faye’s proposal swirling around her head and unwelcome memories bombarding her, she needed a little reality check.

Finally, her emails jumped up the screen. She exhaled. 108 emails. But instead of relief, a frown pulled at her mouth. She clicked on her message notifications.

Leanne: How’s the tan coming along?

Met any Portuguese hotties I can spend my lunch break daydreaming about?

Any progress with the proposal?

Diana stared at the last message for a little too long. Guilt crept under her skin, winding tighter and tighter until a dull ache spread through her temple. She wasn’t any closer to an idea for her follow-up book. Honestly, she hadn’t even thought about it.

She’d achieved what her father and Jason said couldn’t be possible. People listened to her and engaged; her ideas and theories had pushed socioeconomics in ways others hadn’t. She’d travelled Europe, Asia, and America, landing prestigious teaching positions at the best universities in the world. Yet now, at the precipice of it all, her brain was failing her.

Although Leanne was her friend, her job came first. If needed, she’d let Diana go in search of the new hot talent. She couldn’t blame her for that.

Maybe Diana was already old news.

She’d always been a firm believer that age didn’t encumber her but improved life as she got older. But now she had her doubts.

The throb in her temple deepened as she clicked back onto her emails, sifting through spam and stationery sales. She skimmed a mountain of university updates and replied to her students before landing on one from her boss, the subject in bold.

New internal position. She scanned the details, her chest tightening. A permanent position. At Harvard. In socioeconomics.

She shifted on the bench, its hard wood digging into her spine. A sunburnt couple chatted as they walked past hand in hand through the courtyard, like two lobsters, folded beach towels pinned under their arms. She gave them a tight smile before looking at her screen. The words stared back at her.

It would be a lot to juggle. The book tour, writing, increased classes, more marking…Molly. And she’d travelled the world teaching. Giving that up and settling down in one place itched at her, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. But a permanent job at one of the best universities in the world was hard to pass up. Hard to pass up and extremely competitive. And she’d just taken three weeks off, which meant Selena would already be chomping at the bit. Great timing.

“What are you doing hiding in the shadows?”

The cheerful voice made her head snap up from her phone. Faye grinned back at her, another oversized white T-shirt drowning her tall frame. She could barely make out the hem of the denim shorts poking out underneath—shorts that revealed long, slender legs.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Good.” Faye quirked an eyebrow, her eyes drifting to the patch of skin above Diana’s cleavage. “’Cos you’re quite the standout in that dress.”

Diana couldn’t stop her lips from lifting. Faye’s surprising confidence always seemed to defuse her.

Faye’s focus dropped to her phone. “Everything okay?”

“Work stuff.” She lifted her shoulders, trying to ease the tension slinking into her muscles.

“Bet your students are missing you.”

“I doubt it.” The image of Selena Borgo strutting up and down Diana’s class, speaking in her fancy French accent, made her sigh, annoyed that the woman had gotten under her skin. “They’re well looked after.”

Faye took a seat beside her, and Diana breathed in the mix of vanilla and perfume and something else that she was beginning to recognise as inherently Faye.