AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mentally crossing my fingers, I start searching. It only takes me five minutes to track down her address.
I search for a florist, then give them a call rather than ordering online. Turning on the charm, I sweet talk the woman on the other end of the line into agreeing to the last delivery slot on their books today, and read out a message for the card.
“She’s a lucky girl,” the woman says as she types in my credit card number.
“I’m a lucky guy.”
“Aw. You’re a sweetie.”
I roll my eyes—that’s the third time I’ve been called that in the past few days. I thank her and end the call, then go over to my computer workstation, determined to lose myself in code for the next hour and stop daydreaming about Alice and her big blue eyes.
*
It works, partly. The morning is busy, and after my meeting with TalkTech at ten, I spend a couple more hours working on MOTHER, ready for the meeting with Genica in the New Year when we finally hand over the program.
At two o’clock, I force myself to accept that I’m putting off contacting Craig, and finally get around to dialing his home landline.
It rings five times, then goes to voicemail.
“Hi there,” I say, “it’s Kip Chevalier here. Craig, can you call me please? I’d like to chat about our meeting the other day.” I leave my mobile number and hang up, already knowing he won’t call back.
I work until five p.m., then go out and tell Marion I’m off for the day.
“I’m going to call in and see Craig at home,” I tell her.
“Good luck,” she replies.
“I hope I won’t need it, but thanks. See you tomorrow.”
I walk through the office and out to the car park, get in my Mercedes, and head toward the suburb where Craig lives. It’s only a ten-minute drive, and when I arrive, I pull up outside his house and turn off the engine.
He lives in a beautiful five-bedroomed home in an area popular with young families. The house is surrounded by a decent-sized lawn and bush to the back, and must be worth a few million.
I get out, walk up the path to the front door, and ring the bell.
Inside, I can hear his baby crying. After about thirty seconds, the door opens. It’s Craig’s wife, Chloe, and she’s holding her baby boy in her arms. He must be around four months old now. Chloe is about the same age as me, five foot four, curvy, dark-haired, and pretty, although she looks tired. We’ve always gotten on well, so I’m surprised now when she greets me with a hostile gaze.
“What do you want?” she snaps.
My eyebrows rise. “Hey, Chloe. I was looking for Craig.”
She frowns. “He’s not here.”
“Okay. I’ve tried calling him but it just goes to voicemail. Do you know what time he’ll be home?”
She meets my eyes and gives a short, humorless laugh. “He won’t be home, Kip. He’s left me.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
Some of her animosity fades as she obviously realizes from my reaction that I’m telling the truth. She sighs and moves back. “Come in.”
I walk past her into the house, toe off my shoes, and leave them by the door. My heart is banging. Craig’s left her? Jesus. They’ve been together for years. I thought we were best mates. Why didn’t he tell me?
“Go in the living room,” she says, and I walk in there. It’s untidy; kids’ toys litter the floor, and an open suitcase sits on the dining table, half-packed.
Chloe comes in behind me. “Do you want a coffee?”
“No thank you, I’m fine.”
