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Francine looked at her watch. “In about forty minutes.”
“Okay, great, I’m going to go for a walk. Is that alright?” She looked to Francine and then Alex and waited for one of them to answer.
It was Alex who spoke up. “Of course, you’re not a prisoner.”
“I know, but I am aware that I am being paid to do a job and swanning off whenever I like would seem a little inappropriate.”
“Quite right,” Francine chipped in, but raised a brow when she saw the glare Alex gave her. “Of course, as long as you’re to hand and reachable by phone, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Okay, that sounds fair.” Morgan reached into her pocket and checked the battery life and service on her phone. “I’ll log onto the hotel wi-fi and then there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Alex smiled, unable to look away. “See you soon then.”
“Yes,” Morgan answered, holding the stare. “Won’t be long, just need to stretch my legs.” It was only when Alex looked away that Morgan turned and left the suite, leaving Francine staring at Alex.
“Have you two had a fight?”
“What? No, of course not, what makes you think that?” Alex said, a little too defensively.
“I dunno, just feels…” She left it unsaid when her phone started to ring. She looked at the screen. “It's David, get ready.” She turned away. “Hi darling, yes, we’ve arrived.” She was still talking as she left the room.
Alex turned full circle and suddenly felt the loneliness of her life suffocate her. The silence, louder than anything she could produce on the piano. A silent echo of a life she could have had but had chosen against. Sometimes, it made no sense to her at all, and then she would be on stage and the world she lived all fell into place. Enough, at least, to keep her on the path. Transactions at every marker.
Her love life was always the payment for everything she achieved.
She sighed and crossed the room to the window, looking out over the huge garden and further afield, to the hills. As her eyes were drawn back, she saw the image of Morgan, walking slowly between flower beds. Pensive, tired, sad. Alex knew it was her fault, that she’d given into the temptation, taken a forbidden bite of the apple, and then run from it, not because she was a coward, but because she needed to focus on something else. Something she hoped, one day, would mean no more transactions. No more trading love and the likes of Dr Morgan Kelly.
Turning away, she wrapped her arms around herself and breathed deeply. She had work to do, and that was all there was to it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Morgan could hear the music as she wandered the building. It didn’t matter where she went, the echo of the piano would follow. It was beautiful, and added another dimension to the tour she was giving herself. It had stopped for now, but no doubt it would begin again when Alex decided what changes where needed.
When Morgan had first arrived with Alex and Francine, she had watched from the seating area, Francine giving instructions and Alex discussing something quietly with a man. He was tall, broad, and hairy. One of the roadies, she assumed. After a few minutes, Alex had sat on her stool, and their eyes had met. Morgan was sure that Alex had searched for her, scanning the area until finally they stopped looking and settled on just her. It was a little unnerving if she were honest. Not that she didn’t want the attention from Alex, of course she did, but she had no idea what it meant. All these little moments that added up to what? A night of fantastic sex and then…nothing.
Alex finally looked away, down at the piano and lifted the lid. She began to play, and Morgan got up and left her to it.
She’d never been in a building like this by herself before, without the public jostling around her. Her phone was in her hand constantly as she stopped to take photos here and there. It really was something to be admired.
Rounding the last corner before she re-entered the main building, she was panicked a little by the sound of footstepsrunning at speed. She froze on the spot when a man appeared, out of breath and waving at her.
“Doctor Kelly?” he rasped once he’d come to a stop in front of her.
“Yes,” she replied with a confidence she wasn’t feeling right this moment. “What’s wrong?”
“You have to come quickly. It’s Sasha. She’s hurt.”
The surge of adrenaline that rushed through Morgan in that moment was unlike anything she’d felt since a multicar pile-up on a motorway had brought fifteen patients in all at once.
“Where is she?” she asked urgently.
He looked around them, and then pointed to the nearest door. “We can get through there. She’s by the stage.” He took off as though it were his life that depended on it.
It was mere minutes when Morgan rushed down the aisle, boots stomping loudly against the stone floor. She could see a small group of people standing around in a circle, all peering down at what she assumed was Alex.
“Let me through,” she said, and several heads peered up and turned her way, bodies instantly moving back to open a path. She could see Alex sitting on the steps that led up to the stage.
“I’m fine, honestly,” she was saying in a tone that suggested she’d already said it several times. But she gave up protesting when she caught sight of Morgan closing the space between them, worry etching her features.
