Page 17 of The Suitcase Swap

He rubbed his eyes again. ‘Fine. Thank you.’

Her scowl deepened. ‘Why do you keep rubbing your eyes like that?’

‘They’re a little dried out from looking at the screen.’

Amaya made a muffled screeching sound. ‘Dad! Use the eye drops! What is wrong with you?’

‘If only Barney were here,’ Mike muttered as he grabbed the phone and took it with him to do as she demanded.

Her exasperated expression morphed into one of concern. ‘You sound grumpy. You don’t usually sound grumpy. Are you okay?’

He set down his phone and dug out his drops, blinking as the liquid hit his eye. ‘A little worn out, that’s all.’

It was more than that. Mike was the first to admit that he functioned mostly like a machine these days, except for the rare times when he was able to be with his family. The rest of his days were full of work and only work. This didn’t usually bother him. He liked work. What else did he need?

And yet, his mind kept swerving back to Sophie. It had been three days since their dinner. He didn’t know her. They’d shared a meal, that was all. So why did he keep checking his phone for texts and getting disappointed when there weren’t any? He also kept picking up his phone to text her . . . well, anything, really, just to see what she would say.

But he hadn’t and he wouldn’t, and it was making him crabby, like little Archie when he hadn’t had his nap.

Amaya made a thoughtfulhmmmnoise. Her eyes narrowed and grew speculative as she tapped her fingers along her hips. ‘Ra says you had dinner with the luggage lady. The one with the OnlyFans.’

‘She doesnothave an OnlyFans,’ he said sharply. Too sharply. ‘Or maybe she does. I don’t know.’

Amaya looked like she wanted to reach through the phone and pat his shoulder reassuringly. ‘It would be okay if she did, Dad. Nothing wrong with porn.’

Mike sighed and dropped his head back. ‘Sometimes I wish my relationship with my children was a littlelessopen.’

‘No you don’t,’ Amaya said automatically. ‘Okay, so that’s a maybe on the OnlyFans. What do you know about her?’

‘We had one dinner, Ama. One.’ A dinner so warm, so lovely, that it had smoothed out the irritations of the day.

A slow, Cheshire cat smile unfurled on his daughter’s face. ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’

‘I also regret taking you to see Shakespeare.’ He gave up, getting his phone and heading to the kitchen. He popped the cap off his beer and took a sip, propping his phone up against a fruit bowl as he rested his elbows on the counter. ‘She has a travel blog. A son named Tom and his wife or maybe fiancée, Marisa. They were very nice, though Tom seems worried that I’m up to no good.’

‘We only wish you were up to no good.’ Amaya opened her laptop and started clicking. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Sophie Swann.’ He took another long swallow of his beer. ‘She’s funny. A little weird.’ He picked at the corner of the label on his bottle. ‘I liked talking to her.’

Amaya made a thoughtful noise but kept clicking.

‘She’s divorced.’ He bit down on the other words that wanted to spill out of him.She smells like peaches and honey and it felt good to hold her. Her eyes have more brown than green in them; she laughs with her whole body; and I can’t stop thinking about the things I found in her luggage. Was that her only toy, or just her favourite? Does she have more? Did she buy those lacy underthings to please other people, or were they just for her?

Mike rolled the chilled bottle of beer against his forehead and wondered if he was getting a fever.

Amaya was focused on her laptop. ‘Have you read any of her blog? It’s funny.’

He’d been very carefully, very deliberately, avoiding it. He had a feeling that if he read it, the last fragile band of his restraint would snap. And then what? ‘No.’

‘You should read it, Dad.’ She clicked again and raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, Isee. She’s kind of fit, isn’t she?’

The chilled bottle wasn’t working. He definitely had a fever, or a virus, or maybe something worse, like malaria. ‘I didn’t notice.’

That Cheshire grin was back. ‘You do like funny women, Dad. Why not ask her out? Go . . .’ She trailed off. ‘Do whatever old people do on a date.’

Mike thunked his bottle against the counter. ‘Oh, fuck off.’

She laughed. ‘You’re blushing. I cansee it. Ooooh, wait until I tell Ra. He’s going to shit.’

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