Yuki’s dark eyes flashed, and her gaze was slow and appraising. “I’ve hardly met the man, but I like him. I like the look he puts on your face. I’m glad to see you so happy.”
Sinead beamed, pleased her friend approved. “Yes. We’re getting along great. Like a house on fire.” Like I’m in love with him, she wanted to add.
She couldn’t be in love with him though. No, of course not. She gripped the edge of the table, hanging on for dear life. Mad. Crazy-woman stuff. Lock her up and throw away the key, she wasn’t fit for normal dating society.
“Now, let’s eat. I need some sugary goodness to go with all the tales of your sexcapades,” Yuki said, then signalled a passing waiter.
“Oh no, I’m not telling you any secrets. Except that the sexcapades have so far surpassed my very high expectations.”
She couldn’t wait to see him, although it would probably be the longest day of her life in the meantime.
All day, lusty crazy-woman thoughts would be playing through her head on swift rotation.
London, UK
Gabriel finally had his body under control and his head screwed on. After Sinead’s teasing texts, it was no mean feat. He glanced at Ryan, standing at the front of the room, presenting to the assembled team.
“The projections show, even if Travel South succeeds in buying up all available stock from independent shareholders, they’ll still only hold a maximum of thirty per cent. As founders, Gabriel and I hold thirty-five per cent. The majority of the other shares are held by investment companies and long-term Global Village staff,” Ryan explained.
The hostile takeover situation was serious. Every seat was taken around the long board table and an extra row of seats had been added along the back wall to fit in the entire London staff.
Gabriel’s attention kept straying to the modern artwork on the opposite wall. It was a dauby interpretation of a beach scene, gold and blue streaks dotted with colour to denote sunbathers. He’d much rather be there, with Sinead. He shook his head. Focus.
A question drummed through his mind. “So is it likely Bruce could gain a controlling interest?” Gabriel asked. He wanted to believe Bruce’s bid for control of the company could be shot down.
“Likely, no. But not impossible.” The comment floated on the air, piercing the otherwise silent boardroom. Apparently coming from a young woman seated at the back of the room.
Gabriel leaned over and peered around a few heads to make out her face. Charlotte. Not afraid of making her opinions known, even in a meeting with more experienced staff. He was impressed. Her attitude reminded him of himself or Ryan a few years ago.
“Charlotte, tell us what you mean.” Gabriel encouraged Charlotte, but he heard a sigh from Ryan. Gabriel ignored him. “Go on.”
Charlotte nodded and stood in front of her chair, straightening her black skirt. “Bruce could easily have been meeting with investment companies for a while, whispering about his grand takeover plans. Not to mention, he may have approached some of our staff about selling. Perhaps he’s made them promises, begun planning his team in a new, larger company. Trying to leverage the European expansion we’ve planned, for his own company’s benefit.”
She frowned and looked uncomfortable, then flopped down in her chair. Her expression reminded Gabriel of when they’d all gone out for drinks and Ryan had teased her. Not afraid to state her opinion to the group, but worried about what Ryan would think?
Gesturing to Ryan with his pen, Gabriel then spoke to the room. “I hate to admit it, but Charlotte may be right. I’ve known Bruce for many years and he plays a long game. This takeover bid wouldn’t be a spur of the moment decision.”
They needed a plan. His PR representative should be the first port of call. Michael was a young man with slicked-back hair and even slicker marketing speak. He was green, but outstanding so far.
Gabriel spotted Michael across the room, tapping on a tablet screen. He was probably already working on it. “Michael, I want you to get on the phone, online, whatever you need to do, and find out who Bruce has been meeting with over the past few months. Keep it discreet, and start disseminating some positive messages about our expansion.” Gabriel faced Ryan and nodded once. “Ryan, I think you and I should talk to our Melbourne team members.”
Then Ryan spoke to the group. “Okay, meeting’s over. I don’t want a word of this discussion leaving this room. Charlotte, you’re with me.”
Gabriel walked to the front of the room, meeting Ryan where he stood. They waited for the other staff to exit before speaking. Charlotte approached, her brown eyes huge in her pale oval face. She might have been intimidated by the pair of them standing there, both years older, more senior and taller than her, looking stern. Hell, his jaw was so tight, he probably looked ready to punch heads. He softened his expression, offering her a smile.
He noticed Ryan did the same, except Ryan’s expression hinted at something Gabriel hadn’t seen there for a long time. Attraction. Infatuation. Ryan and Charlotte. He’d have to talk to his friend about it later.
Ryan lowered his voice, watching as the last of the team left the room. “Charlotte, you could have discussed your theory with me in private before the meeting.”
“I could have, but you didn’t give me a chance. You seemed to have other things on your mind.” Charlotte’s voice was soft and a little shaky. If Gabriel wasn’t mistaken, she was off-balance because of Ryan. Something he’d said or done had upset her.
“Sorry. Now’s not the time for that discussion.” Ryan adjusted his tie, one of his “tells” when he was stressed.
“Mind telling me what’s going on between you two?” Gabriel asked. More to watch their reactions than anything.
“None of your business,” Ryan mumbled.
Charlotte glared at Ryan, as if daring him to explain. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. Ryan’s being rude.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “No need for you to apologise for Ryan. I’m used to him.” It was interesting to hear Charlotte speak for Ryan. He was sure there was more going on, but now wasn’t the time.
“All right, back to business. Let’s talk about this takeover bid,” Gabriel said, then gestured for Ryan and Charlotte to sit down. They sat on either side of him, avoiding each other’s eyes.
“I take it you want to put a stop to whatever Bruce has planned,” Ryan said.
“Right. I don’t want to sell my shares. I’d like to maintain control of the company we founded.”
Ryan sat forward in his seat. “I agree. So we’ll need to gather some more market intelligence, and head him off at the pass.”
Gabriel nodded, then tipped his chin in Charlotte’s direction. “We should let you get back to work, Charlotte.”
Ryan spoke for her this time. “She’s with me. I want Charlotte’s take on this situation. I value her insight.”
Charlotte was silent, but her lips twitched up at the corners.
“Fine. Charlotte, maybe as a fresh face at the company, you can find out things we can’t. Meet with some of the major shareholders and report to Ryan. I don’t want Bruce alerted to our research and I have no interest in playing his game. I certainly don’t want to get into bed with the dishonest old bastard.”
“Really? Who would you like to get into bed with?” Ryan’s joked, and deflected from the issue at hand.
“She’s a beautiful blonde, Irish accent, funny and sweet, goes by the name Sinead. No big secret there. But back to the point, Ry. I need you to man up and lead this fight against the takeover. For reasons you know all too well, I’m heading back home to Melbourne in a few days. I need to know I can trust you to manage things. So get your arse in gear.”
Ryan sat up straight. “Gabe, you’re right. It’s more than I expected to be managing. But it’s fine, don’t worry. Char and I are on the case.”
Ryan’s more serious side had come to the fore. About time. Gabriel would leave him to it. He wanted to get out of there. He needed some air. But he couldn’t help overhearing
Ryan and Charlotte on his way out.
“Why does he have to go back to Melbourne so soon?” Charlotte’s voice was muffled, but clear as a bell to him.
“He wants to get back to his Mum. She’s very ill and it doesn’t sound good.”
Charlotte gasped. “Poor Gabriel.”
“I wish I could go back with him. He needs a friend.”
Gabriel clicked the door closed behind him and leaned against it. His legs were heavy, too heavy to move. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he concentrated on what to do next. The here and now, instead of the hard path in front of him.
His time with Sinead had helped him forget about his Mum’s condition for a while. Now he’d been forced to remember, he only wanted to see Sinead. But he had a whole crap-tonne of things to do first.
He palmed his phone and marched towards his temporary office, preparing for his daily check-in. First he’d call Martha, his loyal PA, who no doubt already had an update from his mother’s carers. Then he’d call the respite care centre and find out the latest, first-hand. From yesterday’s call, he knew his Mum had recovered from the infection and was stable. Once he had the facts he’d know whether he needed to fly home in the next few days, or if he could spend more time in London with Sinead.
Adding to his unpleasant to-do list, he had an afternoon meeting scheduled with Kitty. He’d already put off his least favourite business contact twice. He didn’t think he’d get away with doing it again, as much as he’d like to avoid having to see her. Kitty’s events management firm was organising the cocktail party for the London office launch. It was an important event and Kitty’s high-society contacts would be essential.
He gritted his teeth and took care of business.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
By the time Sinead snagged a cab at Heathrow and settled into the back seat, it was closer to one o’clock in the morning than midnight. Still, she wanted to direct the cabbie straight to Gabriel’s hotel.
Even if they were both too shagged to actually shag, he’d welcome her and let her curl up with him in his luxurious hotel bed. By morning, she’d be ready to give him a proper hello. They hadn’t had a chance to break in the bed. Yet.
Oh God, she needed him. Her body was almost crying out for his touch.
She shook off the notion. She wasn’t so desperate to see him.
Yeah right, who was she kidding? She was buzzing with excitement and pent-up lust. Her day in Paris, the City of Love, emphasised her lack of companionship. Yuki didn’t count in her current mood.
Making the boring, sensible choice and pulling up in front of her flat instead of Gabriel’s swanky hotel was utterly disappointing. She paid the cabbie and grabbed her wheelie bag, stepped onto the footpath and stopped.
A cool breeze teased her hair across her face, tendrils coming loose from her ponytail. Goosebumps prickled at the back of her neck as she glanced at her front door. The overhead light was out. She always left it on, the neighbours too.
A weird sense of foreboding gripped her as she trudged up the concrete path to her front door, listening to the sound of her own breath. The cabbie slammed the passenger door and roared off down the road. Too late to stop him or ask him to wait, or ask him to walk her to the door.
The street light behind her cast a weak yellowish glow along the path, where glints of light sparkled. Something crunched underfoot. Glass.
Her head flicked upwards and her gaze caught on shards of glass glinting where the light globe should’ve been. It had been smashed. It could have been kids, causing trouble, winding up her tough-guy older neighbour, Mr Robinson.
She shook her head. Surely there was nothing to worry about? Coming home late on a deserted street was spooky. It was one of those absolutely quiet winter nights with very little wind, only clouds of her own frosty breath tainting the chill air.
The tiny hairs instantly stood up on her forearms and at the nape of her neck, as cold dread prickled her skin. A sign her body didn’t agree with her brain’s assessment of the situation. She gripped her keys, then made a fist, letting one long key poke between her fingers. A makeshift weapon when used like a knife, as she’d learned in self-defence classes.
She hovered on the doorstep. Her body screamed, danger. Then her mind jumped in with a silent scream, the one name guaranteed to have her quaking in her boots – Padraig.
Ridiculous. The idea of her first boyfriend showing up uninvited at her place in London, it was mad. But who else would’ve sent her those text messages? Who’d harassed her even when she was living in Australia? Why he would bother her was a mystery, five years since she’d left him behind in Dublin.
Two years ago, the messages had turned nasty, making her uneasy in her own home. So when the opportunity came up through the airline to transfer to London, she grabbed it. Even though it meant uprooting herself from her home in Melbourne and a circle of friends she didn’t want to leave behind. She’d thought a city the size of London would provide anonymity. But maybe not.
Bridie knew where she lived, and her sister had only just arrived. Someone else might have known where she was headed. Oh, God, Bridie had better be safe. Hopefully tucked up in Sinead’s bed, fast asleep.
She glanced over her shoulder as she unlocked the door with shaky hands. Walking into the entry hall and slamming the door behind her, she paused. Her right hand fisted and moved towards Mr Robinson’s door of its own accord. Should she knock and wake him?
No, she was a strong, independent woman. Of course she was. She could handle herself.
Creeping up the stairs, leaving her bag behind, she sucked in a deep breath. Be brave, not stupid. She kept her phone in her hand, in case of emergency. At the top landing, she peered over the wooden railing to the floor below. There was no movement, nothing suspicious.
But the skin-crawling sensations wouldn’t leave her alone. She faced the door to her own flat as if it was about to rear up and bite her. Opening it slowly, with an eerie creak, she stepped inside. She shivered and left it standing open.
Sinead crept into the middle of the sitting room with quiet, cautious steps, the worn brown carpet muffling any sound. Turning her head to examine her familiar surroundings, her stomach dipped with a seasick lurch.
“Shite.”
Things were missing. Her television, a fairly new flat-screen, along with her DVR. A vacant space where they should have been on her sideboard. They were probably the only things she owned worth hocking for cash.
Cash!
She scurried across to her kitchen. The red canister by the stove marked ‘Cookies’ was usually stuffed with a bunch of foreign notes leftover from her travels. Getting to the kitchen counter, she tore off the tin lid and it clattered onto the counter. It was completely empty.
Sinead’s body shook but her brain clicked into gear. She’d been burgled. A bog-standard, garden-variety robbery. Or not.
She stepped forward a few paces and glanced at her bedroom, the door standing wide open. The bed was empty and the girly pink and purple covers were smoothed out, apparently not slept in.
Mind whirring furiously, spinning with the need to make sense of what had happened, she looked for signs of life. Bridie wasn’t around. Nothing was broken, no furniture overturned. The front door had been locked, not jimmied or kicked in.
Someone had got inside and gone through her personal things. Someone had taken what they wanted and then locked the front door behind them. It seemed ‘someone’ was her little sister. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she slapped her hand over it.
Shaking, shivering from head to toe, Sinead sank to her knees onto the hard tiles of her kitchen floor. The cold bit at her skin through her tights.
Bastards. You can’t choose your family.
Why did they have to be so awful? Bridie was the only one she’d trusted. Now that trust was completely broken.
With fingers that froze and fumbled, she lifted her phone from where it’d dropped on the floor.
She called th
e only person she wanted.
Gabriel answered on the second ring. “Sinead? It’s one o’clock in the morning—”
“Gabriel, please come. I’ve been robbed … I think it was my sister. I’m all alone and … please come.” Her voice broke on a sob. The tide of emotion was so strong, burning her lungs and rushing through her like a hurricane. She had no chance of holding it back.
“My God, Sinead. It’s going to be okay. Keep talking to me, I’m on my way. I promise I’ll be there soon.”
She clung to the phone like a lifeline, listening to his husky voice in the darkness.
“I’m almost at your place.” He’d kept her talking, to calm himself as much as her.
He’d probably broken most of London’s traffic laws, but he didn’t care. Gabriel arrived at Sinead’s flat quicker than he’d believed possible. Still not quick enough to calm his pounding heart or to erase the “what if” scenarios playing out in his head.
What if he hadn’t been around?
What if she had no one else to call?
What if some psycho had been inside, waiting for her?
He couldn’t think about it, any of it. Talking on the phone hands-free as he drove, Sinead had sobbed and explained the series of events. He’d pieced together a story which made him clench his teeth and grip the steering wheel with hands like steel claws.
Sinead’s little sister Bridie had stolen Sinead’s stuff, along with her trust. Sinead was shaken, but not surprised. She sounded hollow. Resigned. She mentioned something about her family always being on the wrong side of the law, as if it was to be expected. As if Sinead had known something like this would happen, and she somehow deserved it.
Angry didn’t begin to describe his state of mind as he parked the car and hit the concrete, already running. Still on the phone, he stormed up to Sinead’s front door, pounding the pavement with an unforgiving stride.
He tried to keep the anger from his voice as he spoke into the phone and knocked. “I’m downstairs right now. Come and let me in, Irish.”
Girl on a Plane Page 20
