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“He’s taken everything, Jesse,” she says, playing with the tissue, looking at me with imploring eyes.
“You have your own money,” I say, confused. Coral’s parents are very wealthy people. She’s a silver spoon child.
She shakes her head, and I withdraw. “What is left is in joint names, and he’s frozen it all. Canceled my cards, taken my car.” She laughs. “I can’t even use my debit card because he’s changed the PIN and passwords on all our accounts, so the bank won’t talk to me. My parents are abroad and can’t transfer me any money because I can’t access it. They live in the Lakes District, and I have no money to get there. I used my last fifty pounds to get a cab here, Mike’s changed the locks, told my parents I’m an alcoholic, and this”—she gestures to the white dress she’s wearing—“is all I have to wear.” She bursts into tears again and, God, it makes me feel like shit. What an absolute wanker. And clearly deeply vengeful.
“Come on,” I say, rising, offering a hand and pulling her to her feet. I walk her back to my office and pass a box of tissues, then sit down at my desk and open my laptop.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m booking you a hotel for the night.” I tap at the keys, picking the first one that comes up in the search bar.
“Jesse, I—”
I hold a hand up. “Do you have a key to your parents’ house?”
She shakes her head. Of course she doesn’t. Why would she need a key to a house that’s hundreds of miles away? “When are they back?”
“Monday, I think. I’ll call them and check.” She reaches for her purse.
I change the selection from one night to three. “Let me know. I can always extend it if it’s later.”
She pulls out her phone and dials, then puts it to her ear but quickly pulls it away, looking at the screen. I don’t miss her recoil.
“What?” I ask, naturally standing and walking over.
“It’s nothing.”
“Coral, what is it?”
She looks up at me. “My phone’s been cut off.”
I laugh dryly. Fucking hell, he’s something else. I go back to my desk, complete the reservation, and book a cab, printing off the confirmation.Wanker. Where the fuck is he expecting her to sleep? What the fuck is he expecting her to eat and wear? I growl, incensed. There’s a fine line between love and hate, I know that. Can attest to that. My ex-wife loved me so much, she stabbed me because it was unrequited. I suppose I should be grateful Coral’s not brandishing a knife.
I rip off the paper from the pad and hand it to her. “A cab’s on its way to drive you back into the city.”
“Thank you, Jesse. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it.” I open the door, not looking forward to my impending interrogation. “I’ll see you out.”
I walk her down the corridor and immediately locate John at the table. He doesn’t notice me until Ava sits taller in her chair, spotting me. Then he gets up, tossing his napkin down and coming over.
“A cab will be here in a few minutes for Coral.” I move away from her.
“Got it.”
“Do you have any cash?” I ask, and he frowns. “Mike’s frozen everything. Changed the locks. I’ve booked her a few nights in a hotel until her parents are back, but I can’t transfer any money for incidentals because she has no access to her accounts. He’s cut off her phone too.”
John scowls. “I have cash,” he says, tapping his jacket pocket.
“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.” I look at Coral, hoping it will be the last time. “Take care, Coral.”
She nods, lifting her hand to reach for me, but I move back, shaking my head, making myself as clear as possible. This means nothing. I’m just a man helping a woman in need. We’re not even friends.
She nods, accepting, moving away, and John walks her out. I search for Ava, finding her looking this way. Her eyes meet mine, and my heart that’s been slow this past hour speeds up again to a more comfortable pace. I get my arse across to her, set on making up for lost time. Or I try to get my arse across to her. Every fucker between here and there seems to want to chat.
“The food was sublime, Ward,” someone says.
“Thanks.”
