But it felt as if there could be more to it than physical desire.
I quieted my clamouring thoughts by telling myself I was mistaken, tripping on the weird numbness from my parents’ deaths. James couldn’t have any romantic feelings for me. I was hardly “his sort,” if you know what I mean. Besides, he already had a lover, a girlfriend or an f-u-c-k buddy in the form of Vanessa. Regardless of the smouldering looks he sent my way, it was a friendly, parent-to-parent relationship James wanted.#p#分页标题#e#
My mobile rang, and I recognised his private number. A few people turned around, giving me irritated looks when I didn’t answer. Foreigner’s “Hot Blooded” was hardly appropriate for a church but I stared at my phone and let it ring. James had phoned a few times since Wednesday but I’d felt too awkward to speak to him.
I tapped the screen and waited.
“Hi,” he said.
How can one tiny word block the blood flow to your brain and twist your tongue into schoolgirl incoherence? I made a garbled sound and shot to my feet. James said something but I didn’t catch it. He seemed to be in an outdoor space with plenty of noise. I squeezed past the mourners in my pew and headed outside while he told me Ryan’s rugby game had just finished.
“Ryan’s team won but he’s upset because he was substituted. I’ll have to cheer him up later,” James said. “It’s your turn next time.”
“You mean that?” I said hesitantly. “I can still see him?”
You’re not supposed to intuit emotions via satellite but hey, my screwy mind does things other people’s don’t. I wasn’t surprised I could feel James’s displeasure without him saying a word. I should have known better than to think he’d change his mind because of Manuel’s visit.
I mumbled an apology.
“Has he approached you?”
I shuddered. “No, and I don’t think he will. Tarzan’s with me. We’re spending the night in Brighton.”
Silence, and then I heard him tell Ryan to strap himself into his booster seat. I smiled, picturing a child’s car seat in the back of a Porsche or a Lamborghini.
“How are things at Flintfire?” I asked, floundering for a topic.
James switched into boss mode. “Fine. Somebody else will accompany Greg and me to Valencia. Velma speaks some Spanish and wants to come.”
I bet she does, my mind said.
“I’ll be back on Monday,” I said firmly. “There’s a lot to do before we leave.”
“I don’t want to see you in the office.”
As ever, his dictatorial tone got my back up. “Well, I want to see you,” I retorted, instantly cringing at my words.
“Okay.”
Huh? I didn’t get to find out what he meant by that. In typical James fashion he’d made his pronouncement and hung up. I shook my phone, wishing I could whack him over the head with it for being such a...a...
Perplexing and considerate—albeit bossy—man you can’t stop thinking about even though you try so hard I’m forced to zap you into infinity, my mind supplied.
I stared at the green fields beyond the old tombstones, a silly smile on my face. It faded though, as hopelessness and guilt battled for supremacy. Why the hell had I lied to James at his and Caroline’s wedding? If I hadn’t been drunk I would have kept to the truth and nothing but. Self-loathing mixed with despair. I could never come clean about Ryan and I could never be James’s friend—or anything else for that matter. I might as well bury my fledgling happiness in one of the tombs in front of me.
I was halfway back to my pew when I came face to face with Manuel, coming in the opposite direction. My mobile felt warm in my palm, almost as if I were holding a small part of James’s essence close to me. James hadn’t pitied me. He’d been protective, yes, but not because he thought I was a weakling; he didn’t see me as a poor little victim and he didn’t judge me.
He judged Manuel.
I stood straighter, lifted my chin and stared into Manuel’s dark brown eyes. The crowded church faded out until it was just him and me, and we were standing on a fault line between my past and my future. It was an opening chasm he would either drag me into or from which I would leap away, choosing a side on which to land.#p#分页标题#e#
There’s no changing the past and no cure for innocence lost, no safe hideaways and no fairy tale endings. The bad guys get you and then they get away. Full stop and end of story. It’s what you do after the end that matters.
You deal with it and stop the fucking whining! my mind ordered.
As much as it hurt to enter Manuel’s darkness, I didn’t flinch. I’d finally learned a thing or two. Hope strengthens, fear kills. He might have got away with abusing me but he’d never get to me again. Never. Something in my face must have communicated my thoughts because Manuel’s satisfied smile disappeared. He dropped his eyes and looked disconcerted. Disappointed at my lack of fear.