by Ella Hayes
He rocked back in his chair. ‘We’re definitely on the same page, Ash. The world needs creative thinking tied to practical applications and that’s exactly what your software is going to deliver.’ He smiled. ‘We need to get you to Amsterdam soon, to meet my technical team.’
‘No problem. I could come the week after next.’ Ash’s eyes were merry. ‘Mia will be very happy—she’s always telling me I don’t visit often enough.’
The words were plainly spoken but Theo couldn’t make sense of them. He pressed a finger to his temple. ‘She likes you to visit Amsterdam?’
Ash was powering off his laptop. ‘She likes me to visit her.’ He looked up. ‘Mia lives in Amsterdam—didn’t she mention it?’
His heart bumped. ‘No...she didn’t.’ He opened his briefcase and slipped his notes inside, keeping his eyes down. Why hadn’t Mia told him that she lived in his city? They could have talked about it, the places they liked and didn’t like. For some reason it stung that she’d kept it to herself. Sensing Ash’s gaze, he looked up, forced a smile onto his lips. ‘To be fair, she was rather preoccupied.’
‘That’s Mia! Unstoppable when she gets the bit between her teeth.’ A shadow crossed Ash’s face. ‘We’re very close, you know. We’ve been through a lot...’ He seemed to drift momentarily and then his face brightened. ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’
‘One of each.’
Ash slid his laptop into its case. ‘And what do they do?’
He hesitated. There wasn’t enough time for that conversation even if he’d felt inclined to have it. He closed his briefcase. ‘I’m sorry, Ash. I have to scoot. I’ve got a plane to catch.’ He wondered if he’d sounded a little brusque, so he added, ‘I’m having an early dinner with my sister, actually, and I can’t be late.’ He stood up, held out his hand and smiled. ‘We’ll sort out the Amsterdam meeting, okay? Get things moving.’
* * *
In the car to London’s City Airport, Theo sank back into the seat and loosened his tie, considering what Ash had just revealed. In his mind, he went over the conversation he’d had with Mia on the way to Greenwich. They’d talked about cycling... She’d told him she’d never cycle in London. She’d even remarked that London was a long way behind Amsterdam for cycle paths, but she’d framed it in a general sort of way. He’d assumed that she was familiar with Amsterdam, given that she was Dutch on her father’s side at least—they’d never got as far as talking about her mother’s family—but he’d also assumed that she was based in London, like her brother, and she’d done nothing to dissuade him of it.
Why?
Suddenly the words he’d spoken in the hotel reception area came back to him: ‘I’ll order us a car.’
He swallowed hard. Had he overstepped a line without realising it? What if she’d never intended to accompany him to the planetarium, had felt pressured to go? If that was how she’d felt, she might have been worried that, if he knew she lived in Amsterdam, he’d ask to see her again...
He groaned inwardly. It was the last thing he’d intended—to come on too strong, to come on in any way at all. It was just that she’d taken him by surprise, thrown him off-balance with her clear brown gaze and her sweet smile, and when she’d said that the observatory was six miles away there’d been something in her voice, more than just hope in her eyes... She’d trapped him in her warm light, had drawn him in with a teasing glint. That was what had made him think she wanted to go with him...
He turned to look through the window, but it was her face he saw. The way she’d laughed at his lame joke, her hand on his arm, eyes full of...what? If he’d been sending out signals, then she’d been sending out signals too. He wasn’t imagining it. In the car, he’d had the feeling that there was a whole other conversation going on between them in a parallel dimension. He hadn’t known what to make of it, or what to do about it. All he knew was that for the past three weeks he hadn’t been able to get her smile out of his head, and it was confusing, because even starting to think about someone in that way again was precisely what he’d told himself he could never do.
He sighed. Now he wouldn’t have to think about it any more. Whatever he thought or imagined he’d felt between himself and Mia, she hadn’t wanted him to know where she lived, and that could only mean she wasn’t interested in seeing him again. She’d been helping her brother. End of.
He closed his eyes. Some part of his subconscious had misread the situation. No surprise! Experience had taught him that he couldn’t trust his own judgement when it came to matters of the heart, even if Mia did seem to be the polar opposite of his ex-wife, Eline de Vries. Supermodel.
A fist closed around his heart. It always happened when he thought about Eline. When he’d met her, she’d simply been a pretty student at the same university, the girl who’d stolen his heart. He’d loved her smile, her confidence, the way she could light up a room. He’d proposed to her on her graduation day and nearly died with happiness when she’d said yes.
Six months later, they were married. His only thought had been to make her happy, to be a better man than his father had ever been. That meant never touching a drop of alcohol, never releasing the inner violence that was his legacy. It meant providing stability and financial security—all the things he’d grown up without.
After university he’d started his own software development business, working from a room in the apartment until things had grown sufficiently to require a small contingent of staff. Then he’d taken a small unit by the river and started to build the MolTec brand.
Eline had wanted to be a fashion buyer, but fresh out of university she’d joined a company which specialised in fashion events...for the experience and the contacts, she’d said. At a catwalk show an agency scout had taken her picture, told her she had a distinctive look. She’d laughed about it but within a fortnight she’d been signed to a top agency and after that everything changed.
While he was working eighteen-hour days building the business, Eline was courting the limelight. While he was helping Bram battle alcoholism, Eline was partying. Her confidence turned into haughtiness; her sweetness turned sour. She’d said Bram was weak. She’d said that he should put Bram into rehab and get on with his own life—their life. She’d said he was neglecting her, that she needed him by her side, but Bram needed him more. Helping Bram through his illness was something he’d had to do, something he’d wanted to do. He’d thought Eline would support him, but instead she’d had an affair—not a love affair, but a casual thing. She’d done it out of spite, to hurt him. She’d broken his heart.
He opened his eyes to redness—the flank of a bus in the other lane. That was what love did. Filled in the view so you couldn’t see around it or through it. There’d been a time when he’d thought Eline would walk through fire for him but instead she’d betrayed him when he’d needed her most. He’d wanted them to be perfect. He’d wanted one perfect thing in his life, but she’d ripped it up, thrown it away.
He’d vowed never to let anyone hurt him like that again, but somehow someone had... It wasn’t a big, devastating kind of hurt, more of a little pinprick, but it ached just the same, maybe more for being so unexpected.
In a parallel dimension he must have been nurturing a vague hope that he’d see Mia again. The thought of it gave him a head rush and, as he got out of the cab and paid the driver, it suddenly struck him that in spite of everything that had happened in his life he still believed in love.
* * *
Mia felt an arm sliding around her waist, the press of lips against her neck. She caught the distinctive scent of Lotte’s perfume and a second later there came the soft, musical accent whispering into her ear. ‘Guess who might be coming tonight?’
She wriggled free so she could see her friend’s impish face. ‘If it’s someone important, I should have been told...’
Lotte gave a little shrug and widened her eyes. ‘Well, it’s not defin
ite, but...’ She leaned in, whispered, ‘Madelon Mulder!’
Mia nearly dropped her champagne flute. Madelon Mulder had been involved with the Saving Grace women’s refuge in Amsterdam for many years. After winning the best actress gong at the Sunshine Film Festival, for her breakthrough performance in Chris Van Kooten’s lauded movie Going Home, the twenty-nine-year-old was beginning to attract attention from the press, which could only benefit the refuge by association. Mia dipped her chin, keeping her voice low. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell me?’
Lotte tugged her arm, steering her away from the guests mingling in the middle of the function room. ‘Because we only just found out. Madelon’s only in Amsterdam for a few hours so there’s no time for an interview. She’s on her way to Athens to start shooting a new movie, but her agent said she wanted to drop in for a quick photo op to publicise the work of the refuge.’ Lotte hitched the camera strap higher up her shoulder and faked a swoon. ‘I love her. Do you think she might fall in love with me while I’m taking her picture?’
‘Everyone falls in love with you.’
Lotte frowned. ‘Don’t be disingenuous. You know what I meant...’
Mia sighed, slipping her arm around Lotte’s shoulders. ‘I don’t know, Lotte. My grandmother used to say that what’s meant for you won’t pass you by.’
Lotte twisted round, her eyes wide and wounded. ‘You’re telling me I was meant to be assaulted?’
‘No! I didn’t mean...’ She bit her lip. She’d been talking about finding love, but Lotte had twisted it, made it about that night... She shuddered involuntarily, remembering the darkness and the pouring rain, the strangled sob, the sight of Lotte struggling with the big man... That terrible night had brought Lotte and her together, forged a friendship between them that she knew would last for ever, but if their friendship was the silver lining then now wasn’t the time to mention it. Lotte was on the edge of tears. It was a side she didn’t reveal to anyone else, but Mia saw it all too often. To the rest of the world Lotte projected strength and spirit. She liked to shock people with her forthright manner, but Mia knew the truth. She knew how Lotte’s spirit had been broken, how she still looked over her shoulder even in the day time.
She gave Lotte’s arm a squeeze. ‘Of course you weren’t meant to be attacked. That’s not what the saying’s about. It’s about good things, like love... It’s about destiny.’
‘Destiny?’ Lotte turned to face her. ‘I don’t believe in all that “written in the stars” crap, Mia. I never have, and I don’t understand how you can believe in it either after losing your mum and dad...and after Hal ripping Ash off like he did, breaking your heart.’
Mia bit down hard on her lip. Lotte wasn’t trying to upset her, she knew that, but it was hard to hear the layers of her pain being piled up like mattresses in the fairy tale. The Princess and the Pea. Her mum used to read that story to her when she was a little girl, but she couldn’t hear her mum’s voice in her head any more. It had faded away. Hal and everything that went with him would fade away too, in time. One day, even Lotte might stop seeing menace in the shadows. She looked away, staring into the milling crowd with unseeing eyes. For some reason Theo drifted into her thoughts. Green eyes. Warm smile. She drew a breath, braved Lotte’s gaze again. ‘You’re all out of faith. I understand. Most of the time, I’m the same, but sometimes...’ She gave a little shrug. ‘Don’t you just want to believe that there’s a reason for it all? That something good can come out of the bad stuff?’
Lotte stretched out and took her hand. ‘You’re the only good thing, Mia. You get me...put up with me, even when I’m a mess.’ She stepped closer. ‘I wish...’
The wide blue eyes held her, and for a moment Mia wished that she could make Lotte’s dreams come true, but she’d never be able to do that. She smiled softly. ‘You’ll find your lobster, Lotte... One day.’
Lotte huffed a sigh and then her mouth quirked. ‘Well, I’m not going to find her if I don’t start working the room.’ She lifted the camera strap off her shoulder, looping it around her neck. ‘If I hear any more about Madelon, I’ll let you know.’
Mia watched Lotte disappearing into the crowd. Hal, and the man who’d tried to force himself on Lotte, they’d left such a trail of destruction behind, so much damage, so much pain... She sipped her drink, starting a slow circuit around the great room, forcing herself to think about other things. Interviewing Madelon Mulder really would have been something! In the interviews she’d seen, the actress had always seemed so grounded, so completely genuine. At least Lotte would get pictures—another famous person to add to her growing portfolio.
She looked upward and around, taking in the mottled plaster walls, the sharp shiny angles of the suspended lighting rig. The Machine Room at Westergasfabriek was one of her favourite places—a wonderful venue for events. The light through the tall arched window in the gable was turning to a peachy glow. She stared into it, stepping back slowly, losing herself in its warm haze as she thought about what she was going to write...
The Machine Room at Westergasfabriek was the perfect venue for the recent Saving Grace fundraiser.
Two hundred guests attended: contributors, trustees and sponsors of the women’s refuge charity which, for the past decade, has offered support and, more importantly, places for women and their children to stay while they find their feet again.
The gathering was ‘graced’ with an unexpected visit from...
A sudden, solid presence at her back startled her and she spun round.
‘I’m so sorry. I hope—’ Black denim jacket. Dark V-necked sweater. Smooth, golden skin at the base of his throat. Perfect mouth, straight nose, green eyes. She blinked once, twice, but it wasn’t her imagination. Theo Molenaar was standing right in front of her.
‘Hello, Mia.’
Her heart was galloping and the floor seemed to be moving, throwing her off-balance. She pressed the balls of her feet into her shoes and swallowed hard. ‘Hello, Theo.’
He was looking into her face, a question in his eyes, but there was something else too, a tiny glimmer of hurt, a trace of vulnerability, which made her feel ashamed. She twisted the champagne flute around in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. In a million years she hadn’t expected to bump into him and now she had some explaining to do.
She moistened her lips, shot him a little smile. ‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns... That’s what you’re thinking, right?’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘More or less.’
She drew in a breath. ‘I live here, okay? Well, not here in this exact building, obviously, but in Amsterdam.’ His expression was softening. ‘I grew up in London. I spend a lot of time there, but I moved here a while ago, and I didn’t mention it because...’
The amusement in his eyes was making it impossible not to smile. ‘Because it was such a bizarre situation: coming to your hotel; making you go to Greenwich...’
‘You didn’t make me. You convinced me.’ Eyes locked on hers. ‘There’s a big difference.’
She wished he’d stop looking at her like that but, then again, she liked the happy fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, liked the way he made her senses fizz like sparklers.
‘I wanted to tell you, really I did. At the planetarium, when you said you got your coffee from Koffiemeester’s, it almost broke me because I buy my coffee there too.’
‘You do?’
‘Of course! It’s the best coffee in Amsterdam.’ As his eyes held hers, she felt her smile fading, a little frown taking its place. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Theo. I’m not one for secrets—quite the opposite—but at the time it just didn’t feel...’
‘Appropriate?’
She nodded.
A smile played on his lips. ‘It was a rather unusual situation.’
She tilted her head. ‘We could start over...’
‘Start over?’
&nb
sp; She smiled, held out her hand. ‘Hello. I’m Mia Boelens, resident of Amsterdam.’
Warm fingers closed around hers. ‘Theo Molenaar.’ He held her gaze, smiling softly. ‘It’s really good to see you again, Mia—a nice surprise.’ For a moment the room fell away and then he released her hand, motioning to the throng. ‘So, what brings you to this particular gin joint anyway?’
‘I write blog posts and press releases for the refuge.’ She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wondering if her cheeks were as pink as they felt. ‘What about you?’
‘I used to be a trustee. Now I support the refuge in other ways...’ He shifted on his feet, lowering his voice. ‘I like to keep my involvement private, Mia.’
There it was again, that wariness. What was he hiding? After Hal, she had no time for secrets, but there was something raw in Theo’s eyes which made her want to put her arms around him. Impossible!
‘Don’t worry. I get it; you were never here!’ She lifted her chin. ‘I can’t pretend I’m not curious, though...’
‘Motives get misconstrued, Mia.’ He shrugged. ‘You buy properties for abused women and children to stay in and you’re accused of pulling a PR stunt, or you’re accused of dodging corporation tax or whatever.’ Weariness in his eyes. ‘It’s easier to be invisible.’
There was something noble about that. He wasn’t completely invisible, though. She’d found one small headshot with a brief profile on the MolTec website, not that she’d spent hours searching or anything.
‘Hey, Mia!’ Lotte was coming towards them. ‘That thing we talked about...’ She lowered her voice. ‘It’s happening!’
‘When?’
‘Soon.’ Lotte’s eyes slid to Theo’s face. She stepped back, looked him up and down then lifted her camera. ‘You’re very handsome! Can I take a picture?’
‘No!’ Mia put her hand on Lotte’s arm. ‘Mr Molenaar hasn’t agreed to pictures.’