Chapter 10
Day Three
I spot my laptop bag dumped on the hallway floor. Discarded in her haste to see the circus going on in the bedroom, Haley hasn’t mentioned the success of her mission. I scoop it up with my working arm and head for the dining room. It’s a challenge to haul it onto the table, unzip the case and flip the laptop open. Operating with one arm is already sending my frustration levels through the roof. I glare in annoyance at Sam’s back.
Stationed at the coffee machine in the kitchen opposite, she’s deep in hushed conversation with Haley standing next to her. I hear my name a couple of times, and I assume Haley is filling her in on the saga of me being here. I hope Sam’s as good at keeping her mouth shut as she is at slamming people to the ground .
I try to focus on getting this computer running. The sooner I can find those documents, the sooner I can begin on a plan. I hit the power button. It’s dead. I scan the room and spot a power outlet next to a sideboard behind me. I’m crouched down, fumbling to plug in the power cable, when I hear my name once more. This time I pay attention.
“Very easy on the eye,” Sam says, voice still low.
“Yeah, well, no surprise you’re only noticing now when you’re no longer trying to beat the shit out of him.”
“Just because he’s gorgeous doesn’t mean he’s harmless. Bad guys still come in pretty packaging.”
“Not this one. The inside matches the wrapping.”
“You like him.”
The teasing whisper sends a little thrill of anticipation. Haley’s delay in answering kills me. I dare to sneak a look as I slide back into a chair. She’s turned to lean against the counter, facing me, but head still tilted towards Sam. Her face is alight, and she’s nodding at her friend, her mouth turned up in a small grin.
“I knew it,” Sam hisses.
“Let’s say he grows on you.”
“Oh god, a man with a body like that—now that I know he’s harmless of course—I’d let him grow all over me. And me on him. Climb him like ivy.”
“Sam. Shhh. He’ll hear you.”
I stare extra hard at my laptop screen, forcing a frown of concentration, but inside I’m bursting. Three years. Three whole fucking years. That, and this ridiculous situation with the TV series, is what it’s taken for Haley Templeton to notice me as more than her brother’s friend. But that thought brings forward the looming presence of Ollie and his inevitable disapproval, tarnishing the moment. I push him away, weighing the possibility of stealing another glance at Haley.
I’m dying to see what she thinks of Sam’s suggestion. God knows if she let me tangle myself around those slender limbs, fit the smooth curves of her body against mine, I’d hold on so tight I’d never let her go; except perhaps until her brother found out.
Although, to look her way is risky. I don’t think I’d see Haley with an expression of disgust at the thought, but I’m still unsure. And if she sees me watching her while she thinks those sorts of thoughts—her knowing that I know—it could be too much, too soon, and blow it.
There’s a soft giggle, and her words are low and husky. Sam responds with a dirty little laugh and I feel their eyes swivel towards me.
I keep mine fixed on the screen and put on a mask of intense concentration, while inside I’m silently cheering. I can’t decipher what was said, but Haley’s tone suggests there’s hope where previously I had none. My fingers fly across the keys, the only outlet for this surge of optimism, as possibility dances before me. This day suddenly got a whole lot better.
There’s a thump of a coffee mug on the table, black and strong exactly how I like it. I look up into those eyes, pupils wide, the colour of the dark liquid in the cup. Rimmed with green and delicate flecks of gold, Haley’s gaze is hypnotic. She slides into the chair opposite me and I see the trace of something in her face, as if the residue of her awareness of me as more than an annoying burden still lingers.
“Thank you,” I say, as I grasp the solid mug. “Not just for this, but for getting the computer. ”
“It’s not a problem,” she says, then takes a sip of her coffee, licking a slight wisp of pumpkin-spiced foam from those peachy lips. God, I’d love to lean in and taste it for myself. “Whatever you need, I’m your girl.”
I swallow hard. There are a lot of things I need, and to be able to call Haley ‘my girl’, well, that would be like winning a Grammy. I’m sure there’s elation written all over my face, no matter how much I try to hold it back. But I’m saved by a distraction. Sam arrives, coffee in hand and a plate in the other.
“Here.” She shoves the plate towards me. “A peace offering.” Three curved squares of pastry dusted with icing sugar sit there.
“Beignets,” Haley says. “Have you tried them?”
I nod, thinking of a trip to New Orleans, and two hungover guys, me and Ollie, in the French Quarter seeking food, any food to ease a queasy stomach after a big night on Bourbon Street. In the absence of our usual antidote, a greasy British fry up, a couple of these had done the job.
“Best in London,” Sam says. “And fortunately for you, sold in boxes of three. Haley and I usually split the last one.”
“Generous of you, then.” I reach for one. “Probably me who should be buying to celebrate Haley’s successful mission.”
“About that,” Haley says. “There was a man.”
I stop chewing and mumble between flakes of pastry.
“A man? At the apartment?”
“Outside,” she says. “I’m sure he was watching when I arrived. Over by the river. Then when I came out the door onto the street, he was right there.”
My first thought is he’s press, but it seems unlikely, with film of me in Scotland still rolling across the TV screen every night .
“What did he look like? Did he have a camera?”
She shakes her head. “I’m fairly sure he wasn’t a journo. He just didn’t have that sort of look about him. Older guy, jeans and a leather jacket.”
I almost wish he had been a photographer, not some random guy staking out my place. My neighbourhood is pretty safe, but dodgy stuff can happen anywhere. There’s a sick whirl in my stomach.
“And did he say anything? Do anything?”
“Yeah, he asked if you were up there. I told him no. Said I was the cleaner, come back to get something I’d left behind. He didn’t believe me.”
I’m freaking out. I have no idea who this guy is, but he wants me. What if he’d hurt her? The thought I may have put her in harm’s way wrecks me.
“He didn’t touch you, though? Follow you?”
She breaks into a little grin.
“No, I made sure he couldn’t. You’d have been proud of me. Took the long way home. He’s no match for me.”
“God, Haley, I’m really sorry,” I say. “If I’d have thought…”
“Don’t be silly,” she interrupts. “I was a bit rattled at first. It felt weird, this sneaking around. Once I was on the train, I realised it’s OK. He wasn’t interested in me. Only you.”
“But he might have thought you’d lead him to me.”
“Yeah, well, that may be true. But I made sure that didn’t happen.” Her face dimples in a smug smile. “You should have seen me duck and dive in and out of streets and trains. I didn’t know I could be so sneaky.” She studies my face, the fact I’m not convinced written there for her to see. “Christian, it’s OK. I wasn’t in any danger. ”
I’m not sure I believe that, but smart girl she is, she avoided the possibility of him tracking her.
“If you need Haley to do anything else, I’ll go with her,” Sam volunteers enthusiastically. “She’s safe with me.”
“Yeah, I absolutely believe that,” I say. I can’t help but crack a smile at this crazy woman’s offer, even though my head still throbs and I’m not sure she hasn’t fucked up my right arm permanently; although she assured me it will be fine in a day or so. “But I think I’ve got all I need here.”
Inside, the bright blue folders in orderly rows on the screen are copies of the documents I signed. My last hope is there’s some tiny loophole I can wriggle through. Some obscure clause that allows me to spill all on what’s happened. However, the production company is large and experienced in this game, and so my hope is like a tiny fish gasping for air in the polluted ocean of shit suffocating me.
“God, I’ve got to go,” the ninja nurse says, looking at her watch while stuffing almost the whole of a beignet in her mouth. She gulps a mouthful of the coffee and gathers a tote bag from the floor. It’s huge and I’m glad she dropped it on her way to investigate my bedroom, otherwise I’d have probably worn a blow from that to my skull as well.
“Might catch you tomorrow, Hales,” she says. “My first day off in a week.”
“I’ll be back at work,” Haley says. “That’s if Christian will watch Tully for me.” She glances over at me under those thick lashes. “Work will give me as many days as I need, but with the current situation, I’d rather not risk it. You know, if they have to decide who keeps their job and who doesn’t… ”
Guilt nips at me, knowing I threw away the chance to keep the job she loves safe.
“You got it,” I say. “Anything for my girl Tully.”
I rub the head of the grinning dog. They’re both camped at the table, no doubt hoping for beignet crumbs. Anything for my girl Haley. That’s what I’d like to say, but it’s too soon to even think of going there.
After Sam leaves, the house descends into a scene of peaceful domestic bliss. Haley folds onto the couch in the room next door with a book. How she can read with a giant flashing snowman in a Christmas hat on the table beside her is beyond me. I adore this girl, so I suppose I’ll have to get used to her obsession with the season of the year I hate.
For me, it just brings back unpleasant memories; my family, all trapped in the house together, with Mum tiptoeing around Dad’s grumpy mood. Him resentful at her insistence he not work on the farm for this one day of the year; and my brothers quietly siding with him, while happily stuffing their faces with the food she’d spent days preparing. Perhaps, in this time here with Haley, I might see another side of Christmas. Maybe, for her, I could even learn to like it a little.
Mularkey snores comfortably at Haley’s feet. Perched on the armchair, Tully swivels her head framed in its huge cone, like Queen Elizabeth the First surveying courtiers gathered in her chambers. Eventually, accepting neither of us will free her from the confines of the plastic ruff at her neck, she collapses with a resigned canine sigh and is soon snoring, too.
I settle back in the dining room, burying my brain in numbing legal jargon, searching for something, anything, as a way out of my dilemma, staring at the screen until my eyes hurt. Two hours flick by before I give up. I’m not an unintelligent guy, but I need help.
I stand and stretch my body tall and wide, then lean through the lounge room door. Haley raises her head with a smile. It’s a small smile, but my brain, desperate for any sign that her feelings towards me have possibilities, magnifies it so it’s like I’m basking in the heat of a high wattage spotlight.
“Don’t happen to know any lawyers, do you?” I ask. The record company could produce one in an instant, but I want to keep a clear line between them and this disaster.
“I do, actually,” she says. “My friend Rachel is an absolutely kick-butt corporate lawyer.”
“You have some pretty impressive friends there.”
“Yeah,” she says, a little wistfully. “I’m the slouch of the group, no doubt about that.”
“Don’t say that. You’re no slouch. Just because you don’t go around literally or metaphorically kicking arse, doesn’t mean what you do isn’t important.”
“It’s OK,” she says. “To tell it like it is. I’m perfectly fine with it. Growing up with Ollie the musical wunderkind as your brother, you learn to accept being ordinary.”
I’m speechless. The words I’d like to say—that she’s not ordinary, that there is some indefinable quality about Haley that makes her the most extraordinary girl I’ve ever met—stick in my throat.
I’m torn. I’d love nothing more than to dispel this lie she’s told herself by holding up a mirror to show her how I see her. But if I do, I risk her glimpsing what lies beyond that; realising how obsessed I am with her. How I’ve always been obsessed, ever since seeing her unassuming goodness, her gentleness, her kindness; and that might frighten her off.
I’m saved from the decision.
“She’s on her way back from Scotland today. I’ll call her after dinner,” Haley says, heading for the kitchen. “Do you like lasagne?”