Jess sat in the corner of the bar, keeping an eye on the door and glancing at her watch. He was an hour late – an hour, and not a word. She’d tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail and she was afraid to leave a message. Something must have happened. Perhaps one of the kids was sick; maybe he’d been in a car accident. And then, just as she was really starting to worry, he walked in.
‘Hey, babe.’ He slid in beside her and kissed her neck.
‘Where were you?’
‘The boss invited us for drinks.’
‘Drinks?’ She blinked. ‘And you couldn’t call?’
‘Don’t be mad, darling.’ He put his hand on her thigh and nuzzled her neck.
Jess steeled herself to resist him and moved away, fixing him with a glare. ‘Where do you tell Maeve you are when you’re with me?’
His smile disappeared. ‘Let me worry about Maeve. I have it all under control.’
‘Exactly what have you got under control? Are you going to separate?’
‘No, I told you. We agreed to stay together until the children were older. Surely you can understand that?’
Jess toughened herself against his reproachful look. ‘So you have separate lives, sleep in separate beds?’
‘We have an understanding.’
‘What kind of understanding?’
‘It’s you that I’m interested in, Jess, that’s all you need to know.’ He smiled, stroking her arm.
Jess pulled away, grabbed her bag and stood up. ‘And what you need to know, Louis, is that it’s over.’ She walked away, not giving him a chance to reply, and was surprised and, admittedly, disappointed when he didn’t follow her.
As she drove home, Jess fought back tears, telling herself she was doing the right thing. What kind of a man behaved like that? How could he make love to her and then go home to his wife and maybe even make love to her too? She felt a wave of nausea at the thought and wondered, What now? Would Louis move on or would he try to woo her back? And, if he did, would she be strong enough to say no?
Jess wasn’t the only one having man trouble. Mandy opened one eye and glared at Jeff, whose snores were becoming progressively louder. He had turned out to be yet another disappointment. So suave, sexy and rich, he had told her all about his high-powered job that took him all over the world, dropping names of the politicians and famous people he hung out with and describing the Porsche he had on order; the Ford he’d driven her home in was just a rental. Once he was asleep and she’d had a chance to glance through his wallet, she found that, rather than being VP of the company, he was a salesman, and a tiny photo tucked in the back showed a smiling woman and two surly-looking teenagers, confirming she’d been taken for a ride. Granted, the sex had been good, but not that good. Mandy, unlike her niece, was not interested in a man with ties. She wanted one who was free to spend his money on her and her alone.
She was starting to doubt that she would ever find him. Her thoughts, inevitably, turned to the only man who had ever held her attention completely for the duration of their relationship, and he hadn’t even been rich. He had talked about them building a new life together and she believed he’d meant it. Certainly, no one had made her feel the way he had, not that she really gave them a chance. He had ruined her for anyone else. She didn’t need or want love now. She just needed a relatively affluent, single or widowed lover who would take care of her. That wasn’t much to ask for, was it? She was willing to play the part of the adoring girlfriend. Nothing in life was free, after all.
An even louder snore prompted her to give the man beside her a sharp prod. ‘Time to go, lover boy. I have an appointment.’
‘Can I see you again, darling?’ he said as he was leaving.
She gave him a wide smile. ‘I’ll call you.’
After he’d gone, Mandy flopped back on to the bed and retrieved her laptop from underneath it to check her emails. There was one from her boss.
Flying in at 3.45. Pick me up in the usual spot. D.
‘You could say please,’ she muttered. Still, it would be nice to have Douglas back. She missed the banter. When she applied for the job as personal assistant to a travel writer she’d imagined herself seeing the world, staying in glamorous hotels and mixing with clever, witty people. But, except for his trips to London to meet with his publisher, Douglas Thornton rarely went anywhere. As for her accompanying him, two years in the job and she’d never got further than Dublin airport. Nor did he entertain. His infrequent visitors were taken for a pub lunch and he’d return home alone. He had a cool, indifferent manner that Mandy figured was a deliberate ploy to keep people at a distance. She’d had a good look around for signs of a wife and kids but had come up with zilch. She was reasonably sure he was straight but there was no woman on the scene and he showed no interest in Mandy, which was an entirely new experience for her. Any man with a pulse usually gave her the eye.
Despite Douglas’s peculiarities, though, he had a dry humour she enjoyed and it was actually relaxing not having to fend off male attention for a change.
In the past, Mandy had tired of most jobs within six months or had to leave because she’d got involved with a colleague and it became awkward once she tired of them, as she always did.
Douglas was different, though. He fascinated and frustrated her in equal measures and, in doing so, managed to achieve what only one man had before: he held her interest. They’d fallen into an easy relationship and rubbed along quite well together, their conversation peppered with teasing and sparring.
‘How can you write travel books if you don’t travel?’ she’d asked one day over lunch in the kitchen.
‘I assure you, I’ve visited all these places.’
‘Yeah, years ago, but places change. You need to keep up.’
Douglas had shaken his head and given her a patronising smile. ‘They’re not holiday brochures, Amanda. They’re a description of a country, its culture and its people, and those things rarely change.’ He’d tapped the manuscript between them. ‘Don’t you ever read what you type?’
‘I try not to,’ she quipped. ‘I’m sorry but it all sounds a bit pretentious to me. It’s like people who rant on about a painting of a triangle that costs millions, arguing about what it’s trying to “say” to us. I’ll tell you what it’s saying. The so-called artist is laughing all the way to the bank.’
He’d laughed, really laughed, at that, and she’d caught a glimpse of the man he could be, perhaps once was.
‘I won’t argue with you. I’ve had to listen to my fair share of so-called authorities on art over the years and wanted to punch them for being so damn pompous and boring.’
She’d nodded in agreement. ‘And don’t you just hate people who go on about wine and the different scents and flavours and which year was best? I bet most of them wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a bottle that cost a thousand and a tenner.’
Douglas had pulled a face at that. ‘I was probably among them at one stage in my life,’ he’d admitted.
Mandy sensed that her boss was going to open up about his past and sat forward, eager to learn more. ‘Tell me more.’
He’d glanced at his watch and stood up. ‘Some other time. I’ve got work to do.’
And she had got no further information about him.
Mandy knew Douglas was in his late sixties but he didn’t look or behave like a man of that age, despite the baggy cords and ancient check shirts. He had probably been quite a catch twenty years ago. He had lovely blue eyes, a deep laugh and good teeth, too. There was definitely life in the old dog yet. She wondered what or who had turned him into a hermit.
Maybe she should take him in hand. She’d given Suzie a makeover; there was no reason why she couldn’t do the same for Douglas. She’d be a little more restrained, though. Mandy chuckled as she thought of some of the outfits she’d persuaded her sister to buy. She would need to be much more circumspect with Douglas. Yes, organising her boss’s wardrobe would be a hell of a lot more exci
ting than typing his manuscripts, and she’d welcome the challenge. Mandy complained about how boring her job was, but she was well aware that she had a very cushy number. Once she got the work done, Douglas didn’t mind her reading or shopping online as long as she answered the phone, checked his email and kept the coffee pot full. The only downside, although she secretly enjoyed it, was that she had to tolerate his scathing commentary on her active love life.
‘What age group do you target, eighteen to eighty?’ he’d ask.
‘Why, are you applying?’ she’d retort.
After she’d blown off one guy, he’d texted incessantly, begging her to give them another chance, proclaiming he loved her. Finally, Douglas had snatched up the vibrating phone and read the texts.
‘Sounds like he’s desperate to see you.’ He raised an eyebrow at one particular text. ‘All of you.’
She’d grabbed it back. ‘He’s a pest who can’t take the hint that we’re done.’ With that her phone started to ring and she groaned. ‘Not again.’
Douglas took it from her. ‘Hello? No, I’m afraid she’s in the shower. This is her husband, can I help? Hello? Hello?’ He grinned at her. ‘That’s odd. He hung up.’
After that he’d quizzed her regularly, seemingly fascinated as to why she was so fickle and couldn’t settle with one guy. Mandy deflected the questions with flippant remarks. ‘I’m set it my ways and I’ve no interest in becoming the good little wife at home, ironing shirts and cooking. I want to live, not exist.’
‘So, basically, you just want a wallet on legs.’
‘Legs aren’t mandatory,’ she’d shot back and walked out of the room, his chuckles following her.
Mandy pulled into the drop zone outside Dublin airport, pretending she didn’t see the parking attendant’s gestures, and watched Douglas stride through the doors and climb in next to her. Giving the approaching attendant a cheeky wave, Mandy pulled out.
‘You’re pushing your luck, Amanda,’ Douglas warned. ‘That guy will be waiting for you next time. He’s probably given your registration to all his mates.’
‘No worries. I’ll wear a low-cut top in future, job done.’
‘You have no shame.’
He actually sounded critical and, when she glanced at him, she saw a weary resignation. She was surprised to find that his obvious disappointment in her hurt.
‘How’s your sister?’
‘Suzie? She’s doing really well. We’re planning a trip to New York.’
He glanced over, eyebrows raised. ‘I didn’t think you were close.’
‘Why do you say that?’ She frowned. This man was far too perceptive. She needed to be more careful.
‘Oh, comments like “she’s more like my mother than my sister”, “old before her time” and “too good to be true” spring to mind.’
‘All true, believe me. We’re very different,’ she said, forcing a laugh. ‘But she’s more chilled since she woke up, and we’ve become quite close.’
‘Hmm.’
She glared across at him. He was really beginning to piss her off. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing.’
She fumed inwardly, knowing that he had made some kind of judgement call and she had come out wanting, yet again. It was infuriating but she knew from experience that there was no point in badgering him. He had a habit of making cryptic comments but would never be drawn into further discussion or argument. She went to overtake the car in front, crashing the gears.
‘Everything okay, Amanda?’ he asked calmly.
‘Everything’s just hunky-dory, thanks, Douglas,’ she said through gritted teeth, tightening her grip on the wheel and imagining it was his neck.
Chapter Eight
Suzie studied her to-do list with a critical eye. Salsa classes, choir, meditation, book club, travel. It was pathetic and she’d accomplished only two. Jess hadn’t asked any more about the dancing and Suzie had left it at that. Despite the fact that her daughter protested her innocence over the Louis affair, Suzie was still furious. Even if she believed the man was separated, why would her beautiful girl put so little value on herself that she’d settle for the likes of him? How could she care for a man who said he would walk away from his wife and kiddies? It was just as well she was doing meditation, Suzie thought. She needed something to keep her from throttling Jess.
The first book club session that she and Aileen attended had been a good laugh. Well, except for the feckin’ snobs who only wanted to read highbrow fiction. As if that was going to happen! It really annoyed her that the romantic, comic and mystery novels that she adored were looked down on. There were some sniffs of disapproval and a few eye rolls when she said her piece but, most of the others had sighed with relief or nodded in agreement and she and Aileen had enjoyed a laugh and made some new friends.
Suzie had also sent off her passport for renewal and called the consultant about getting a note saying she was fit to travel. Out of the question, his secretary told her. The consultant wouldn’t do that without seeing her first. Bloody red tape.
Mandy had told her about a couple of hotels in New York that would be perfect bases for sightseeing and shopping, telling her to have a look at them online. Suzie had nearly passed out when she saw the price of the rooms. Still, this was a special trip to celebrate her return to the land of the living, so why not push the boat out? Lord knows she’d spent precious little on herself over the years.
‘Cooee! Anybody home?’
‘Come on over, Aileen,’ she called.
The woman climbed over Suzie’s hydrangeas and walked into the kitchen, smiling. ‘All set?’
‘Yes.’ Suzie stood up and reached for her jacket. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘Now, don’t get carried away,’ Aileen warned. ‘This is a huge decision. You want to make very sure that you’re doing the right thing. Would you not get young Noel to come along?’
‘No, he’s still asleep. The poor lad is worn out with all this bloody studying.’
Aileen frowned, obviously not happy. ‘What about Jess?’
Suzie snorted. Jess was the last person whose opinion she wanted at the moment. ‘What’s it to do with her? It will be my dog, I’ll be the one feeding, walking and cleaning up the shite.’
‘Ah, you’re an awful woman,’ Aileen chuckled. ‘Come on then, let’s go.’
The dog rescue centre was on the far side of Dublin, and Aileen told her the procedure as she drove. ‘If you find a dog you like, then you talk to an adoption consultant to find about their background and temperament and whether you’re a good match or not. If you still want to go ahead, the dog should really meet the rest of the family—’
‘What? Why?’ Suzie looked at her, baffled.
‘They want to make sure that it’s going to be happy and well treated. And, if that goes well, they’ll arrange to visit to make sure that you have the space he or she needs.’
‘Crikey, you would think it was a child, not a feckin’ dog!’
‘They have to be careful, Suzie. So many people buy or adopt a dog or puppy and then realise they can’t cope with them or simply get fed up with the hassle and mess.’
Suzie hadn’t really thought about any of this. Perhaps she was taking on too much. ‘But you haven’t had problems with Hector, have you? He’s a good little dog.’
Aileen laughed. ‘He was murder for the first few weeks. He howled all the time. I couldn’t leave him alone and, when I’d get up in the morning, there would be poo and wee all over the place. It’s like having a new baby, Suzie, and they’re nearly a year old before they really start to behave.’
Suzie’s heart sank. She wasn’t sure that she could handle that. She had lots of plans and spending a year cleaning up after a mutt wasn’t among them. ‘Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all.’
Aileen pulled into a parking spot and switched off the engine. ‘Well, we’re here now. Still want to go in and have a look or will we go for a coffee?’
‘Ah, sure,
I suppose there’s no harm in looking.’
Minutes later she was drooling over one puppy after the next, her worries forgotten when she looked at the cute little bundles of fluff. As luck would have it, there weren’t many people visiting and an adoption consultant soon approached them.
‘I’m Mary. Can I help you?’
‘I’m not sure what I want,’ Suzie confessed.
‘No problem. Why don’t we have a walkabout and you can meet the gang?’
‘That would be great, thanks.’ She and Aileen followed the girl around and when Suzie pointed to any she liked, Mary told her about the dog’s background, how big it was likely to grow and the exercise and care it would need. ‘Oh, look!’ Suzie fell to her knees in front of a cage with greyhound puppies.
‘Oh, please, Suzie.’ Aileen rolled her eyes. ‘They may be small and cute now but once they grow to full size it would be a full-time job exercising one. And you need to look after yourself. You’re still recovering, remember?’
‘Recovering?’ Mary frowned.
Suzie pulled a face. ‘I had a little accident.’
Aileen snorted. ‘She had a head injury and was in a coma for two months,’ she said, ignoring Suzie’s glower. ‘She’s only been home a few weeks.’
‘Nearly two months and I’m fine, and will you please stop telling everyone my business?’ Suzie snapped.
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