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He felt her fingers tighten around his.
‘I didn’t know.’
‘It was a long time ago.’ The worry in her eyes and the fact that she cared was messing with his head. ‘Anyway, everything was fine in the end. I managed to sort it.’
‘You didn’t just sort it,’ she protested. ‘You saved it.’
‘It was my responsibility.’ His mouth twisted. ‘It was my fault it happened. I hired Charlie and Raymond. I trusted them.’
‘Why wouldn’t you?’
‘I should have known.’
He felt his shoulders tense, the shame and shock of his stupidity as fresh now as it had been when he’d met his CFO the morning after Alicia’s party.
‘There were signs, little things, but I was so desperate to prove myself, to show my father he could trust me that I just ignored them.’ His eyes rested on her small pale face. ‘After it all fell apart I was so focused on turning everything around I didn’t realise how much it affected the way I interacted with people, but trust is hard to recover once it’s lost.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she said quietly.
* * *
Mimi looked away. It hurt too much to see the pain in his eyes—pain caused by her family, by her stupid, selfish stepfather and equally stupid, selfish uncle.
She stared across the water to where small waves splashed against a series of sharp black rocks. Against the placid surface of the lake, it was easy to focus on their jagged threat—just as she had chosen to focus on Basa’s outward hostility rather than the trauma that had created it. He’d lost his mother when he was not much younger than she was now, and for a time he had been responsible for looking after his family.
Remembering Alicia’s remarks in the car, she felt her heart beat a little faster. He still was.
She could see now that it hadn’t ever really been about him. It had been about herself, and the private fear that once again she had jinxed something that might have been perfect.
Basa seemed so strong, so determined, and she’d judged him as he had her: on outward appearances. Hearing him talk about his family’s name, she had thought he was a snob; when he’d spoken about having rules, she’d thought he wanted to be in control without understanding why he needed to be. She hadn’t understood his deep-seated sense of responsibility for the scandal that had so nearly ruined his father and Alicia.
She knew what it must have taken to turn his business around and restore his family name, and there could be no doubting his love for his family or his sense of responsibility for them and for the pensioners who had been robbed. He had stepped up, and it was incredible what he’d done, given how young he was.
But all injuries left scars: some visible, others less so. And she understood why he found it hard to trust people—her in particular.
All her life she had struggled to trust herself, to trust other people. Her father had started that particular ball rolling. He’d left shortly after her tenth birthday and, devastated by his rejection, her mother had turned for support to her charming but irresponsible brother Raymond, who had introduced her to his best friend Charlie.
Had she ever liked Charlie? Not really—but she’d been desperate to see her mother happy again, so she’d encouraged the relationship.
‘We trusted them too. My mum and me. I trusted them,’ she said slowly.
‘You were a child.’
‘At first, yes. But later I think I knew they weren’t be trusted. Raymond was lovely, but he was always a chancer, and Charlie was so clever at making you believe what he said.’
His face tensed and she braced herself, expecting him to pull away, but instead his fingers locked more tightly around hers. ‘But you didn’t know.’
Yesterday he would have phrased it as a question, but today it was a statement, and she squirreled that away, scared by how happy it made her feel.
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘But I still felt responsible, and stupid, and scared. Especially during the trial.’
His eyes searched her face. ‘It must have been hard.’
Mimi swallowed. Thankfully, it was all a blur. There had been so much happening—so many changes in such a short time. Mostly it had felt like riding a rollercoaster—slow stretches of normality and then a sudden, plunging, terrifying dip.
‘It was exhausting. And confusing. And we were so naïve—or maybe I was naïve. My mum was just out of it.’
‘What do you mean by naïve?’
