From Italy With Love. Jules Wake
course if he knew her, he’d have known she had no claim on Miles nor wanted anything from him, except perhaps for one last postcard. The incredibly valuable collection of cars and the properties scattered across the world would belong to her aunts now or once probate had been sorted. Miles was fair though, no doubt he’d sorted everything out to everyone’s satisfaction.
‘Enjoying the wine?’
The voice interrupted her reverie and she stared up at him, her cheeks turning pink. She’d just managed to snag a new full glass of the Lafite, abandoning the broken one out of sight in the laundry room on her way back in. Had he heard that tell-tale tinkle of glass? Did he know it was her? Was he about to challenge her on it?
He lifted an eyebrow while she struggled to think and speak before finally managing a squeaked, ‘Yes’.
If only she could have come up with something wittier or clever to say. Ever since she’d followed him back indoors, her eyes kept straying towards him. The vibrant coloured shirt stood out in the room; it was impossible not to notice him. He seemed to know everyone and the women all seemed to know him. He’d charmed his way around the room.
For a moment he held up his glass, tilting the wine in it in consideration. Any minute now he was going to say something. Her stomach clenched with nerves.
‘So how did you know it was Miles’ favourite wine?’ he asked with a flirtatious smile toying around his mouth. She almost sagged with relief.
His default expression, no doubt. Definitely a ladies’ man. Although why not with those looks? No one with any sense would take him seriously. Love them and leave them was written all over him.
‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Her words came more sharply than she intended. ‘You knew?’ She gave him, an uncharacteristically challenging look. Something surged in her blood, heady power buoyed up by nothing more than Dutch courage.
In response, the smile blossomed into a knowing grin as he gave her an unhurried look up and down, a leisurely perusal that tugged at her.
She gulped. He was good. And she was not his type. He knew that as well as she did. And he certainly hadn’t looked at her like that in the church.
Her eyes must have signalled something because he looked surprised and then intrigued for a second. He took a step back and this time studied her more carefully.
And she blushed … again.
‘Hi,’ the overly-loud voice cut through her stupor, ‘I’m Robert Evans. Lauren’s boyfriend.’ He thrust out his hand towards the other man.
‘Cameron, Cameron Matthews.’ His eyes glittered with mischief. ‘No one’s boyfriend.’
The heat of the room or maybe it was the wine started to catch up with her, a flush suffused her face and she rocked, feeling dizzy.
‘So,’ Cameron’s gaze took both of them in, ‘how do you know Miles?’ He looked at Robert’s suit and then down to the shiny polished brogues. ‘His accountant?’ He nodded at Laurie, ‘Wine broker?’
She didn’t think Robert realised he was being insulted but she’d underestimated him.
‘No, family.’ Robert informed him.
The wine must have really got to her because she felt unexpectedly embarrassed at his pompous tone and aggrieved he’d applied the term to himself.
Cameron Matthews looked surprised.
‘I’m Laurie, Miles’ niece.’
‘Laurie?’ His voice went up in question. Disbelief etched across his face as he stepped back and said, ‘You’re Laurie. Aw shit.’
She flushed at the vehemence in his tone and watched as he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, parting the crowd and leaving everyone staring their way with hushed voices.
‘Rude bastard,’ said Robert. ‘What the hell was that about?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘You happy to close up?’ asked Gemma, the other librarian, as if it was an unusual occurrence. Leighton Buzzard Library had been dead for the last half hour.
Laurie nodded. Thank God, today was almost over. From the moment the alarm clock had gone off this morning, set for exactly 6.30 a.m. so Robert had time to make both packed lunches before he caught the train into London, she’d found herself checking the clock almost hourly. The damn long-hand seemed to be on a go-slow. The day just wasn’t right. She couldn’t put a finger on what was wrong. It just felt wrong. And as for what ‘it’ was, she had no bloody clue.
Served her right for drinking all that wine yesterday. Her spirits had been well and truly dampened. Alcohol did that, didn’t it? And she wasn’t used to it. Drinking more in one afternoon than you did in an entire month was bound to have an effect.
She stacked the last of the books on the trolley. Oh stuff it, just this once sorting the thrillers from the romance and Sci-Fi could wait until morning. In fact Gemma could do it. Time she pulled rank, she was the senior librarian, after all and Gemma needed reminding that librarians are well-read, not well-informed on celebrity gossip. And didn’t that make Laurie sound a dried-up old stick. Part of her wondered whether maybe Gemma had got it right; the magazines seemed to be a stronger draw than books in the library these days. Other people’s lifestyles proving more exciting than their own. Even Gemma’s life seemed a lot more exciting than hers.
What was the matter with her today?
She had a job, home of her own, a live-in boyfriend and her health. She was being ungrateful and stupid. Security, stability … you knew where you were with them. For a moment she wondered if she was trying to convince herself just a little too hard.
OK, so they didn’t lead the most exciting life, her mouth turned down in disgust, they didn’t lead an exciting life full stop, but then excitement wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Loads of people would kill for that type of security. She thought of her mother and then tried hard not to. She’d left Laurie’s dad in her quest for excitement and had found fulfilment in fast cars, rich husbands, glitzy parties, designer clothes and visits to one exotic location after another. Quite what her mother had ever seen in Dad in the first place was a mystery. There were poles apart but he had clearly adored her at one point.
A tap on the window was an unwelcome reminder she should have switched out the lights and locked up.
‘Hello dear, I know it’s late but can I just …’
Laurie wasn’t supposed to stay open after six. ‘Go on, quickly.’
Mrs Wright slipped into the door and headed straight down to the crime section. ‘You are a dear,’ she called over her shoulder.
Laurie might as well start re-homing the books on the trolley.
Luckily Mrs Wright found something straight away.
‘Thanks love, you’re a lifesaver.’
Laurie smiled. The widow inhaled books like other people took in air. Her taste in gruesome killers obviously provided the escape from killing loneliness.
Rattling around on your own in a house when someone had died was so hard.
The ring of her mobile coincided with the click of the door when Mrs Wright finally left. Robert.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi, you still at work?’
‘Just leaving. I’ll be a while. I’ll heat up that shepherd’s pie for you when I get back.’
‘I’m already home. Actually, I thought I’d take you out to dinner.’ Robert sounded very pleased with himself.