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‘Of course.’ Mary, flustered, took her cue... ‘Please excuse me for a moment.’
Eric was still gripping her hand, but as she stood he had no choice but to release it. She put down her napkin and made a rushed excuse about finding the powder room.
She walked briskly away, asking a waiter to direct her, but then she turned and looked back at the table. Mentally kicking herself, she realised she had left her purse there.
Costa saw that she had too. He saw the tatty evening bag with its fraying handle and then he glanced over to where she was making her way through the restaurant. Her gait told him she was struggling in heels that didn’t fit properly. He saw her look back, and in that very second she again met his gaze. He was certain then that she’d been looking for an opportunity to flee.
It was only for a second, perhaps less, that their eyes met, and Mary did not quite understand the almost imperceptible nod he gave. Was he thanking her for leaving them alone, perhaps? Telling her to take her time before coming back maybe?
She truly didn’t know.
Blindly she turned and pushed open the door to the powder room and stood gripping the sink, trying and failing to calm down as she worked out what she should do.
Good news was not being delivered out there, Mary was certain. She would not be returning to smiles and celebrations!
Though she knew she should just get the hell out, her purse held the salon keys, and the little money she had, as well as her travel card, and this smart hotel was an awfully long way from home.
Home.
She let out a mirthless laugh that was more a strangled sob, for though she had been lonely for a very long time, never had Mary felt quite so alone.
Tonight—on her birthday—it was especially hard to accept that she had no one to call on to ask for help. Really, there was not a single soul who would notice if she didn’t make it home tonight.
A missing person...unmissed.
Mary pressed her fingers into her eyes. Almost fourteen years after her mother’s death, she still missed her each and every day.
She still spoke to her. In her head, of course. But for Mary, all motherly advice had run out at the age of seven, and there was nothing she could draw on for nights such as these.
Except...
She heard the once steady voice of her father:‘You go up to someone and ask for help...’
She could remember her daddy telling her what to do if she got lost in a shop or parted from her group on a field trip or such.
‘A police officer if you can see one, or a woman...’
Mary peeled her hands from her face, feeling calmer now, knowing what she could do. She would head out to Reception and there ask them to retrieve her bag for her and that they see her into a taxi. She couldn’t afford one, of course, but she had her emergency funds. And if Coral fired her, well...
Mary had already decided she was leaving her job anyway.
Oh, she’d prefer to have a new job lined up, as well as some accommodation, but those issues rather paled into insignificance right now.
Braver now, but still terrified, she smoothed down her dress and then popped a loose curl behind her ear. She took a deep, calming breath before heading out, her intention to exit the restaurant.
Except a brief glance at the table revealed only Costa sitting there, drumming his fingers. Furthermore, Eric Ridgemont’s men were nowhere to be seen, so Mary decided to retrieve her purse herself.
And then leave.
On closer inspection, Costa Leventis looked irritated.
Decidedly so.
Costa was way more than irritated—all his plans had been blown out of the water, for when it had come down to it he hadn’t told Ridgemont he was severing all ties. Instead Costa had sent him off to an exclusive party and said he would join him there soon.
Why?
It was a good question, and one he was having trouble accepting the answer to.
