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He drew in a pained breath and reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found her number. As he listened to the ringing tone, he dropped his head into his hand, sure that this was a bad idea. If he was thinking as a developer, this call was essential. As her ex, it was a disaster waiting to happen; he was certain of it. But if she was avoiding him because of their last conversation, and that was holding up the development, then he needed to address the situation.
Just as he was about to hang up and send an email instead, the ringing stopped.
‘Hello,’ Meena said, a little out of breath. ‘Sorry, I was in the lab,’ she added by way of explanation for the delay.
Guy gulped, suddenly lost for words. ‘We need to talk,’ he said eventually.
‘Guy, I...’ He could hear the hesitation in Meena’s voice and it actually reassured him. Hopefully she was as disinclined as he was to rehash their past.
‘We need to talk about Le Bijou,’ he added resolutely, leaving no room for her to inte
rpret his last comment as being about their personal rather than professional life. ‘I want to know what progress you have made since the dive.’
Meena took a deep breath to reply, but on an impulse he cut off whatever she was about to say.
‘It would be best if you came here,’ Guy said. ‘I want this sorted as soon as possible. The best way to do that is in person. That way we can be sure there are no more delays.’ He glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. ‘This afternoon?’
Meena paused, and he was already preparing to counter her arguments when she said, ‘Fine. I’ll be there in an hour. But I’ll need to finish before sunset.’
‘Sunset?’ he asked, momentarily confused.
‘I’m watching for turtles hatching on the beach tonight,’ she explained. ‘I’m not signing off the permits until I know what’s going on with the nesting site. It’s the last possible day of the incubation period, and I want to be there in person to see what’s happening.’
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you in an hour.’
He watched the minutes crawl by slowly for the next sixty-four, and was about to pick up his phone and find out where Meena was when a knock sounded at the door. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, laptop case slung over her shoulder, a hard look on her face.
‘Where are we going to do this?’ she asked without preamble.
He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from her today. But he was sure that it wasn’t this...hardness in her eyes and her body. If she cared at all that they had once been lovers, she wasn’t letting it show now.
He gestured her over to the table, then pulled out a couple of chairs for them both. ‘Have you written your report on the dive?’ he asked while she was booting up her computer.
She nodded, not looking over at him. ‘It’s nearly done,’ she said, still looking at her blank screen.
How were they meant to work together if she couldn’t even look at him? He understood that this was awkward. God, of course it was. But this was about more than their personal relationship. His whole development was dependent on getting these permits approved. If she couldn’t even talk to him, they weren’t going to get anywhere.
He hadn’t exactly helped matters, he acknowledged. Now that she was in his office, it suddenly seemed like an insane idea. They could have done this over email. Over the phone. There were a million ways to finish this project without ever being in the same room, never mind holed up in his office together. And he hadn’t thought that any of them were good enough. He had insisted that she come here, and had made them both uncomfortable.
‘Meena?’ he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.
‘What?’ she asked, not looking up.
‘Will you look at me?’ he asked.
She shrugged, finally looking over and meeting his eye. ‘I am.’
‘You know what I mean.’
She shook her head. ‘I really don’t, Guy. What’s the problem?’
She was putting on a front. He could see that. He had thought that he remembered everything there was to know about her when he had seen her lying on the beach on Le Bijou nearly two weeks ago. But the more time that they had spent together, more was coming back to him. The easier it was to know what she was thinking from the set of her mouth or the angle of one dark, angled eyebrow.
‘You’re stalling,’ he said, calling her bluff. ‘That’s the problem. This report should have been done days ago.’
She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, aiming a death stare in his direction. ‘Are you questioning my professionalism?’
‘Yes. No. No, of course not. I’m sorry,’ he blustered, wondering how she had grabbed the upper hand in this conversation. He had called her here because he thought that by looking over her shoulder he could push this report through faster. But now he realised his mistake. She was a consummate professional. Summoning her here was going to do nothing but slow her down.
