29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The bell over the door to the café pinged as Cillian opened it.
He felt like a man on death row allowed a brief reprieve.
He’d spent the best part of three days holed up with only Brian and Kia for company after they convinced him to get a room at their hotel, and he’d been desperately missing the normality of Saffron Bay.
Also, although he hated to admit it, he had been missing May far more than he should be.
The way they’d left things was far from perfect, and he’d been both longing for and dreading the opportunity to apologise for blindsiding her.
‘Oh my God.’ A pretty blonde jumped up from her table. ‘It’s really you. I didn’t believe May when she told me Elvis was actually Cillian McDonaugh. Is it too embarrassing to ask for your autograph, only I’m a massive fan?’
‘Yes, Paige, it is too embarrassing.’ May appeared from behind the blonde woman and pulled her back down in her seat. ‘Finish your coffee, then skedaddle. I’ll come over to yours once we’ve finished our meeting with Margot.’
‘Spoilsport.’ Paige pouted before taking longer than necessary to finish the dregs in her cup. Slowly, she set her empty cup on its saucer, said goodbye to May and walked over to Cillian with an outstretched hand. ‘It’s been an honour to meet you. I hope our paths cross again soon.’
‘I said, skedaddle!’ shouted May with a laugh. Paige winked at her, and with one last longing look at Cillian, left the café.
‘Your friend is interesting,’ said Cillian as he took his seat.
‘Oh, don’t mind her.’ May batted her hand. ‘She’s a terrible flirt, although nothing compared to her mother. And Paige has a fiancé she adores, so you don’t need to worry about her turning into your latest stalker.’
‘Thank God for that.’
‘Where’s your entourage today?’ asked May, taking a sip from her coffee.
It left her with a foamy milk moustache Cillian wished he could brush away, He stilled his hand.
Despite the bright chat, the tension in her movements told him that what intimacy or trust had developed between them had evaporated.
‘You mean Brian and Kia?’
May nodded.
‘Back at their hotel.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about how they showed up like that. We were having a great time and then …’
‘Whether or not we were having a good time,’ said May primly, ‘you should have told me you had a partner. In fact, you should have told me when we first met in Plymouth. I may be a lot of things, Cillian. A home-wrecker isn’t one of them.’
‘It’s not like that, May.’ Cillian scratched his chin. How to explain? ‘You don’t understand. The thing with Kia and me …’ Cillian started. And got no further. The bell pinged. Kia, complete with sunglasses and a brunette wig, walked towards them. His heart sank.
‘Room for a little one?’ she asked, sitting at their table and crossing her long, lithe legs. She smiled at May with the warmth of a winter storm, her eyes steely.
Cillian frowned. ‘Kia, we’re here for a meeting about our sisters’ wedding.’
‘I know,’ said Kia, ‘and I’m amazing at organising parties, so thought I could help.’ She smiled disarmingly.
‘That’s very kind, but …’
‘We can manage fine by ourselves, thank you.’ May stared Kia straight in the eye.
‘Alright.’ Kia shrugged, keeping her sweet smile. ‘I’ll keep my brilliant ideas to myself. Pretend I’m not here.’
May stood and pushed back her chair. ‘I’m going to get another drink and see if Margot’s finally free,’ she said stiffly.
There was no offer to get drinks for anyone else, and Cillian couldn’t blame her.
‘Kia,’ he said when May was a safe distance away, ‘you shouldn’t be here.’
She leaned in conspiratorially. ‘I know we said we should keep our heads down until we’re ready to drop the story, but no one’s going to recognise me in this disguise.’ She tossed her head, her expensive wig shimmering as it caught the light.
Cillian wanted to tell her that wasn’t the point.
Experience, however, had taught him the only way to get Kia to listen was to stick to her favourite topic, herself.
‘Listen, you heard what Brian said. We need to keep control of the story, and timing is everything.’ He copied her earlier disarming smile.
‘Why don’t you go for a walk on the beach, and I’ll call you when we’re done here?
I should take you to meet Kitty before the story breaks. ’
Kia pouted but didn’t disagree. She picked up her designer handbag, and with another toss of her head, left the café.
‘She’s rather glamorous,’ Margot commented as she walked over with May.
‘I suppose she is,’ said Cillian. ‘Would it be alright to get a coffee before we start, Margot? It feels like it’s already been quite a long morning.’
‘I can see how hanging around with beautiful women could tire you out.’ Margot winked at May and sashayed with an exaggerated sway to the coffee machine.
‘Listen,’ said Cillian as May sat at the table. ‘I really need to explain the situation with Kia. It was all Brian’s idea. He said, and I’ll admit I agreed at the time …’
May held up a hand. ‘Let me stop you there, Cillian.’ Her eyes were hard.
‘I don’t need or want an explanation of your private life.
I’ve had an insight into the kind of man you really are, and to be frank, I have enough going on in my life without piling someone else’s complicated situation on top. ’
‘No, no…’ Cillian started.
May ignored him. ‘It’s better we keep more distance between us from now on.’ She gave a sharp nod. ‘Obviously, we’ll have to meet to plan the wedding, but please don’t be under any illusion we’re friends.’
‘But, May…’
‘No.’ May shook her head. ‘It’s simpler this way, trust me.’
Cillian slumped in his chair. ‘Maybe. It doesn’t stop me from feeling awful for blindsiding you.’
To Cillian’s surprise, May laughed. ‘Blindsiding is a good choice of word for what happened on the beach.’ Her hardness softened, a fraction.
‘Please don’t worry about it. I can hardly blame you for being dishonest when I’ve been keeping plenty of secrets of my own.
But, as I said, any sort of friendship wouldn’t be in either of our best interests.
And your fiancée might have a thing or two to say about it, even if we tried. ’
Cillian nodded. Here was a whole different version of May Tyler, and for the first time since they’d met, he saw her logical, scientific brain coming to the fore.
There was a steeliness to her tone, a decisiveness to her words he couldn’t ignore.
She was right, his life was complicated and messy, as, by the sound of it, was hers.
It made sense to keep some distance between them.
But as Margot placed a coffee in front of him and launched into a monologue about wedding cakes, Cillian wondered why, if the decision was so sensible, it left him so miserable.