Page 6 of Fit for Love
“Yes, I gather your friend is staying here too.” I glanced around the room, wondering where he had got to. He was meant to be taking my bags up to my room, and I thought he would come straight back.
Mal nodded. “He’s saving up for his next overseas trip, so rather than pay rent on somewhere, I offered him a room here. And he’s doing all the jobs I’d usually be paying someone to do, like decorating and gardening. I think it’s working out well for both of us,” he explained. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Mal, why should I mind? You’re doing me a favour too.” I forced a weak smile, suddenly tired from the journey and the stresses of the day.
“Can I get you anything?” asked Piper. “We were going to have spaghetti bolognese for dinner, but I can make a tomato sauce for you if you’d like? Although I don’t think we’ve got any gluten-free pasta left; Milla had the last of it when she was here last.”
I shook my head. Pasta was the last thing I needed. In fact, the only thing I wanted to do now was sleep.
“Thanks, Piper, that’s really kind, but I think I’d like to head off to bed. It’s been a long day.”
Both Piper and Mal nodded in acceptance.
“Whatever you need, Cora—make yourself at home,” said Mal.
A tear spilled down my cheek, and I hastily swiped it away, not wanting either of them to see. I wouldn’t break down in front of them. At least not on the first night.
Chapter Four
Cora
Despite all the stresses of the past twenty-four hours or so, I slept surprisingly well. I guessed that the combination of the shock, the bad food and drink, plus a long journey, had taken its toll, and I was out for a good ten hours straight.
I certainly felt a lot better than I had the previous morning too.
And I was hungry.
After a long, luxurious bath, I headed down to the living area. It was early—shortly after six, but Piper was already sitting at the kitchen table, pounding away at her keyboard. Her dark hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy bun, a pen stuck through it.
“Wow, you’re keen,” I said.
She looked up and shrugged. “If I don’t start this early, then I end up getting behind on things and that’s the rest of the day gone.”
“Business is going well then?” I approached the table.
“Thanks to you. I never really got the opportunity to say that properly.” She stopped whatever she was doing and swivelled around to face me. “If you hadn’t featured the jewellery, then I doubt I would’ve even sold a tiny proportion of what I have done. It seemed alien to have a stranger support me, particularly one that was Mal’s ex,” she admitted.
Her words made total sense. I could see how odd it must have looked to her when Mal asked for my help. But I thought her products would sell, and it seemed I was right. We were still practically strangers though, and here I was invading her space and no doubt upsetting her routine.
I spotted her cup was empty. “Do you want a refill?” I asked. “And some breakfast?”
“Sounds great, thanks.” Piper gestured to the refrigerator. “I’m not sure what we’ve got that you can eat, but I know there’s fruit and soya milk for starters. Perhaps we can go shopping later and pick up some things?”
A pang of guilt hit me. They were making allowances when I’d spectacularly fallen off the wagon. Not that I’d told anyone; I was having a hard enough time coming to terms with it myself. I needed to find a way to get back on track.
“Sure, let’s do that.”
I pottered about, making more coffee and investigating the contents of the fridge. Automatically, I reached for the fruit and yoghurt, checking to make sure it was soy or coconut and I could eat it. Then, while I was finding something for Piper’s breakfast, I found some croissants in the bread bin and stopped, stock still, my hand hovering over the pastry. Just one wouldn’t hurt, would it? I sighed. That was where I’d gone wrong at the hotel. Seemed I couldn’t stop at one bad thing; I had to have them all.
“What are you going to do while you’re here?” Piper asked.
It was a perfectly reasonable question, but one I had no answer to. I hadn’t posted on any of my social-media platforms since the other night. And those last posts were bubbly and fun, basically everything I wasn’t feeling right now.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t usually feel this lost. Under normal circumstances, I would have a plan: events to attend, photoshoots, meetings.
Suddenly I realised I’d run away from everything I had scheduled and I hadn’t told anyone. Except Louise. I guessed it was early enough that I could contact the people I was meant to see and cry off with illness or something. That would work for today, but what was I going to do for the rest of them? I almost felt like crying at the thought of explaining to everyone why I wasn’t able to attend. I tried to put it out of my mind and at least enjoy breakfast before thinking of what to do next.
“Where’s Mal?” I asked deliberately, changing the subject, as I took the mugs and plates to the table.
