by Ella Hayes
‘I suppose I wasn’t what she wanted in the end... It happens.’
Mia frowned.
He sat up, adjusting the pillow behind him. ‘Look... She was my first serious relationship. We got married straight out of university. I’d had a bad start in life, and I suppose I was trying to make up for that, trying to create something of my own...’ He shrugged. ‘I was working twenty-four-seven, building the business, and then she got spotted.’
‘Spotted?’
Damn! Why was conversation such a minefield? Why was he surrounded by famous people when all he wanted was to keep himself and his history private?
‘Yes. Eline worked in fashion. A scout liked the look of her...so she started catwalk modelling.’ He pressed a finger to his bounding temple. ‘You’ve no doubt heard of Eline de Vries...’
‘Your ex is Eline de Vries?’
He nodded.
‘Seriously?’ Her eyes were wide as saucers.
‘Yes, seriously!’ It didn’t mean anything. Eline was just a person like everyone else. No more special than himself, Mia or his brother. They were all just people, messing things up. ‘After she signed with the agency, she started running with the beautiful people, and then she had an affair. I was the accessory that didn’t match her outfit any more.’ He smiled, joking at his own expense. ‘But I’m not bitter.’
‘I can see that.’ She wasn’t smiling.
He touched her elbow, ran his fingers up her arm to her shoulder. ‘Look, it’s ancient history—not worth talking about.’ There was something in her eyes that looked like distance growing and it threw him. Could she see that he’d given her half a story? He felt panic rising, tightening his chest. He couldn’t bear to see her retreating, not after the sublime intimacy they’d shared.
He leaned in, pressed his forehead to hers. ‘I don’t want to talk about her, Mia. I want to give you my undivided attention.’ In a heartbeat her expression softened and he seized the moment, kissed her slowly, savouring the warmth of her mouth, the softness of her lips. When he felt her rising towards him, kissing him back, sliding her hands around his neck, the tension in his shoulders melted away. When he was kissing Mia, he could forget everything else. Everything he wanted was right there in that room with the light fading and the rain tapping on the window.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THERE WAS AN empty table near the window. Mia parked her coffee, sat down and slipped her laptop out of its case. She had work to do, but at home the words weren’t flowing. It was probably foolish to imagine that writing at Hannekes Boom would be possible, although maybe the bustle of the trendy riverside café-bar would give her something to pit her concentration against. At least getting here early meant she’d secured a table, although Ash would probably want to sit outside and dangle his legs over the dock like the students and the hipsters did.
She switched on the computer, gazing through the window while it clicked and whirred. Across the river, the Nemo science centre rose up like a blue cigarette butt stubbed out in the heart of Oosterdok. She liked its blunt lines, the canted roof. A blue building against a blue sky. An old blue stove in a run-down canal house. His house.
She pushed the thought away, opened the blog post she was working on, but the words on the screen kept rearranging themselves into his words.
Do we need to talk about this?
Impossible!
Impossible to work because she was missing him, aching for his touch, his kiss, his smile. Why did it feel as if she’d been on a collision course with chaos from the moment they’d met? The car to Greenwich. The fundraiser. Cleuso in the canal. Spending an entire afternoon in bed with him after what she’d thought was going to be a safe lunch. She dropped her head into her hands and massaged her forehead. She’d gone back to his house because she’d wanted to get to know him better but getting to know the smooth curves and hard lines of his body hadn’t been part of the plan.
She reached for her coffee, remembering the coffee he’d made which they’d never got around to drinking. Had she been reckless, giving herself to him so easily? She’d never done anything like it before. She put the cup to her lips and sipped slowly. The truth was that she’d always been a little bit scared of loving people because she was frightened of losing them, as she’d lost her parents. Not that staying away from love had been a deliberate policy; it had been more of a subliminal thing—self-preservation.
And the thing about Hal was that, when they’d started going out, she’d been eased in already because she’d spent so much time with him and Ash. He’d felt like family, had filled her longing for a circle that was wider than just Ash and herself. And she’d thought he was a known quantity—safe to love. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
When Theo kissed her in the dome, when he’d made clear what was on his mind, maybe he’d caught her in a defiant mood. Maybe some part of her had decided that she might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. She stroked the touch-pad of her laptop, waking the sleeping screen. But, no, that was wrong. It hadn’t been about defiance. It had been about feelings, about expressing all the things she couldn’t say to him in that moment: like how her heart had ached when he’d shown her around his empty house; like how she could see through the skim of bravado he used to cover his vulnerability. It was about that connection she’d felt between them from the very first day.
Maybe Theo was a risk, but she’d felt something real when he’d lifted her into his arms, when he’d loved her so tenderly, so passionately. Maybe it was that her heart had been ahead of the game, had run a risk assessment and given her the green light.
Would Ash give her the green light? For some reason, she’d avoided the subject of Theo with her brother, but now she’d have to tell him, and the thought of it was making her palms clammy. From the outside it would look as if she was falling down the same old rabbit hole: falling for another of his business associates. She pictured his face—the wide, serious eyes; that thing he did with his thumb, biting the pad of it—not the nail. When he did that, it meant he was concerned.
She nudged the computer off standby for a second time. Never mind Ash, she had concerns of her own. For all the physical chemistry between them, for all the feelings of intimacy and genuine connection, there were things Theo was holding back. She could read it in his eyes, in the way his shoulders had stiffened when she’d asked him about his ex-wife. He’d attributed his divorce to a youthful marriage, to Eline switching tracks, leaving him behind, but she couldn’t help wondering if there’d been more to it than that. She wanted to believe that Theo was blameless, but her experience with Hal had made her wary. She couldn’t stop wondering why Eline had had an affair. If she’d fallen in love with someone else, wouldn’t she simply have left? An affair seemed so untidy. Had Theo driven her to it somehow? And, if so, what had he done?
Guiltily, she’d searched online for information. She’d found one small photo of Eline and Theo together. A candid shot, taken backstage after Eline’s first catwalk show. Eline’s arms were draped around Theo’s neck, a cocktail in her hand. Theo was looking off-camera, smiling; even white teeth, his hair shorter, his face not quite so lean as now. He’d have been twenty-six, perhaps. Young and so handsome.
She’d turned up a brief article about their divorce, but it had been frustratingly short on detail. No details in the press; no real details from Theo. The fist in her heart clenched. In her limited experience, secrets spelled lies, set her nerves jangling like nails scraping down a blackboard. If only he’d told her more, she wouldn’t have been reduced to searching online.
Later, in a calmer mood, she’d reasoned to herself that she and Theo were freshly minted lovers, that she couldn’t possibly know everything about him, but still her senses were on high alert and her mind was rattling the gates of every possibility. Fate had brought them together time and again. Was there a reason, or were the stars just stirring fate around as part of some huge cosmic joke
?
She slumped backwards in her chair. It was said that actions spoke louder than words. If that was right, then maybe she needed to put the brakes on, stop worrying...
They’d abandoned the bed as the last wisps of daylight had melted into darkness. He’d wanted to cook for her, but she’d had to get back to feed Cleuso, so he’d driven her home. In the car she’d stroked the back of his neck; on the barge he’d kissed her dizzy. He’d said he’d fetch her bicycle from across town where she’d abandoned it, so she’d given him the key to the padlock. The next morning she’d found the key underneath the designated plant pot, the bike secured against the railing of the barge. The punctured tyre had been fixed.
* * *
‘I’m buzzing!’ Ash’s eyes were bright with excitement, his smile wide and white. He took a long swig from his beer bottle, set it down on the wooden planks of the dock. ‘That was such a great meeting, Mia. Theo’s techies are awesome and the atmosphere at MolTec is fantastic. There’s a real can-do vibe.’
She squeezed his shoulder, ruffling his over-long hair affectionately. It was good to see him like this. After ‘Halgate’ he’d lost his sparkle, but this was the old Ash—handsome, happy, brimming with optimism. He’d propped her up when she was little, carried her emotionally, been her rod and staff. Her heart swelled for him and swelled for Theo, too, for giving her brother a boost just when he’d needed it the most.
He raked his hair back into place. ‘It’s a pity Theo’s away. I was going to ask him to join us for a cold one.’
She toyed with her beer bottle, took a small sip. ‘He’s in Hamburg...and then he’ll be Paris. He won’t be back until Friday.’
Ash was staring at her. ‘And you know this how...?’
She angled herself towards him. ‘Because... I’m sort of seeing him.’
‘Oh.’ Ash picked up his bottle, lifted it to his lips lowering it again without drinking. ‘Since when?’
‘Um...since Monday—officially—but things have been heading that way since I ran into him at a charity event...’ She told Ash about the fundraiser night; about Cleuso in the canal; about having lunch and about going to look at Theo’s canal house. She didn’t tell him how things had ended up. Too much information! He listened with interest and he didn’t bite his thumb, which she took as a good sign. ‘I was a bit worried about telling you, to be honest.’
‘Why?’
‘Can’t you guess? Déjà vu!’
‘It’s not the same situation.’ He swigged his beer. ‘Theo’s not my business partner, and my gut tells me that, even if things don’t work out between the two of you, he wouldn’t let it affect our business dealings.’
The breath caught in her throat. It hadn’t occurred to her either until that very moment and now her heart was flapping like a fish in a landing net. If things didn’t work with Theo, would Theo want to maintain a business connection with her brother? Feasibly Ash could come a cropper all over again and it would be her fault—again! Ash’s faith in Theo was admirable. If only she could share it to the same degree, but suddenly she was thinking about Eline again, the feeling she’d had that Theo wasn’t telling her everything about why his wife had had an affair. She pressed her beer bottle to her forehead and rolled it slowly. Right from the start, she’d had the feeling that Theo was a man with something to hide but she couldn’t share her misgivings with Ash. He’d only say that if she felt like that she shouldn’t be getting involved with Theo at all.
‘Mia...?’
She came back to herself, meeting Ash’s concerned gaze. ‘I’m fine.’ She lowered the beer bottle and smiled. ‘I’m relieved that you’re okay with it.’
‘It’s your life, Mia.’ He slid a beer-chilled hand over hers. ‘For what it’s worth, I like Theo. He seems like a decent guy.’
A decent guy...
Theo had been involved with the women’s refuge for many years; he’d rescued her cat; he’d fixed her puncture... Decent acts. Her tension eased. Ash always did that: made her feel better. She smiled, leaned closer. ‘He’s not only a decent guy but he’s a decent guy with a famous sister...’
Ash’s eyes widened. ‘Who...?’
She lowered her voice: ‘Madelon Mulder.’
‘No!’ His eyebrows leapt up. ‘No way...’
She nodded deeply. ‘It’s true.’
‘Jeez, that’s really something.’ He tipped the remains of his beer into his mouth. ‘In London, Theo told me he had a sister and a brother, but he didn’t give me the juicy details!’ He paused for a moment, thinking. ‘He did say he had to dash because he was meeting his sister for dinner...’ His eyes locked on hers. ‘That was the night of the fundraiser, when you bumped into him.’ He grinned. ‘So weird.’
A brother?
Theo hadn’t mentioned a brother. She racked her brains, trying to think of any moment when it might have been relevant to their conversation, but she drew a blank. So many blanks, like the walls of his canal house.
Ash was snapping his fingers in front of her eyes. ‘You need something to eat, sis. You keep zoning out. It’s a sign of low blood sugar. We should go inside and order. Pizza would totally hit the spot right now; what do you reckon?’
She let him take her hand and pull her to her feet. ‘Pizza sounds great.’
* * *
Theo dropped his key card onto the console table and contemplated the room. Trude had done well; had found him another of the small, exclusive hotels he liked. He didn’t care for the huge places; he liked the feeling of being tucked away.
He slipped off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. The colours of the décor reminded him of the colours in Mia’s dress. He hesitated then pulled out his phone, moving around the room taking pictures, amused with himself because he was thinking about mood boards. When he’d shot every angle, he scrolled through the photos, warmed by the thought of Mia’s smile. If he showed her these it might help them brainstorm ideas for the house...
His finger stilled. He rewound the thought. When had he started thinking of his house as ‘the’ house? A joint project. He threw his phone onto the bed and yanked off his tie. He needed to stop that kind of thinking. It was jumping the gun by a mile.
He stripped off his shirt, caught his reflection in the console mirror. The scratches on his shoulder and on his arms had faded, but the little knot of concentration between her eyes as she’d bathed his torn skin was burned into his memory, as was the image of her wrapped in his sheets, hair tumbling around her shoulders. She’d been asking him about Eline...and he’d given her a half-story. He pressed his temple, swallowing hard. She deserved more. She’d told him about Hal, not holding anything back. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes, the tears brimming there, the devastation on her face. She’d let him in, shared her pain, but he hadn’t returned the favour.
He lowered himself onto the bed. Half-stories and half-truths...that was his life now. If only he could let go, allow himself to trust again, but he couldn’t because this wasn’t about him. He was strong enough to take life’s knocks, but Bram wasn’t. Everything he did, the precautions he was forced to take, was all for his brother. And he was happy to do it, because Bram had always had his back, not just at home, but at university too. When he’d been an impoverished student Bram had helped him out, even though he hadn’t been earning much himself. He used to bring delicious food round, pretending to be after Theo’s opinion about some new ingredient he’d discovered. That was Bram, looking after him. It was what he’d always done. His brother was the most selfless person he’d ever known, and the fact that he was ill didn’t change that. It just made Theo even more determined to pull him back from the brink, to protect him while he healed.
He’d compelled Eline to sign a non-disclosure agreement as part of the divorce; she was forbidden to mention or allude to himself or any member of his family, be it on the radio, on television, in the press or online. She’d
called him a crazy control freak, but control was what drove him. It was what having grown up powerless did to you. It made you burn for the opposite. If that made him a freak, then at least he was a freak with good intentions.
He got to his feet and fished a tee shirt out of his suitcase. Madelon’s success was going to be a problem but she was mindful. That was how they both had to be until Bram was properly back on his feet again. He unhitched his belt and took off his trousers. Would that day ever come? A wave of weariness swept over him. It was all the false starts that had exhausted Eline’s patience. So many times they’d thought Bram was clean and every time they’d been wrong. He’d kept falling back into his old ways and then it was picking up the pieces, starting all over again. Weeks on end at the beach house, running the business from his laptop, babysitting his brother.
He pulled on some jeans. But now Bram had been clean for eight whole months—the longest stretch he’d ever managed—and he’d told Theo to leave him be.
‘You’ve got a life you’re not living, a house that you barely spend time in. And it’s because of me. I’ve been weak, unforgivably selfish. Poor little brother... I’ve dragged you through every miserable moment, but I’m not doing it any more. I know I’ve promised you so many times, but this time I’m doing it for you, Theo, and because I’m doing it for you, not for myself, I’m going to make it.’
He’d seen a new resolve hardening in Bram’s eyes, a firmness of intention that had rowed him right back into their childhood, to the days when Bram had been the protector; himself, his mother and Madelon, the protected.
He’d agreed to leave Bram to his own devices on the condition that he saw someone every day; not a healthcare worker—Bram hated that idea—but the young woman, Marta, who went in to clean twice a week. He’d asked Marta if she’d check in with Bram on a daily basis, and she’d readily agreed, but she’d refused to take any payment. She’d said it was no trouble to call in, that she passed the beach house every day anyway.
