Page 88 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
WHEN THERE WAS STILL NOresponse to knocking at Jonty’s door, Devan was disappointed and a little anxious. He looked through the letterbox and didn’t see Jonty’s bike.
“Get away from there,” a woman shouted.
Devan turned in time to have a shopping bag whacked into his side.
“What the—?” he gasped.
“Attack, Snoopy!” The woman let go of her dog’s lead.
The dog stayed where it was.
“I’m looking for Jonty,” Devan said quickly, before the small black and white dog decided it was a Rottweiler.
“I’m going to call the police.” The woman glared at him.
Devan felt as if he’d slipped into another dimension. “What have I done?”
“Where’s your snake?” she snapped.
“Er…”
When she lifted her bag again, Devan retreated to his car and drove away. What the hell had that been about? When he saw a place to park, he pulled in. If Jonty’s bike wasn’t there, then maybe Jonty was still at his friend’s. But why wasn’t his phone on? He had a nagging concern that Jonty was in trouble. Devan looked up the number for Mike’s shop, but an automated message said it was closed until tomorrow. He left a message, saying he was worried about Jonty and asking Mike to call him. Devan tried Jonty again, then gave up and went back to the hotel.
He went straight up to his suite, then ordered room service. If he’d fucked things up with Jonty, anger was going to make a reappearance in his life. He could only in part blame Ravi. It was his own stupid fault.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, WHEN RAVIsettled into the seat opposite at breakfast, Devan regretted not having eaten in his room again.
“Don’t mind, do you?” Ravi asked.
“Yes. Sit somewhere else.”
“Don’t be mean.” Ravi smiled up at the waitress. “Black coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice, and avocado on toast. Thank you.”
Devan ate faster. When his phone rang, he pulled it out of his pocket so quickly, he almost knocked over his coffee. He was ready to leave if it was Jonty, but it wasn’t.
“Morning,” he said to Alan.
“Good morning. I have Roger and Clara on their way north. I’ve read your report and I’m thinking a million to a million and a quarter. Any thoughts?”
Devan left his half-eaten breakfast and moved away from the table so Ravi couldn’t hear. “The position is stunning. I think he’ll want more. I’d go another quarter.”
“Hmm, well there are a couple of properties coming up for auction that might work better. I’ll send you details. Let the dynamic duo take a look at McAllister’s and we’ll come up with an offer. I’m not sure how quiet we’re going to be able to keep this once they start measuring and asking questions. McAllister can say there are plans for renovations, which wouldn’t be a lie. Tell him he needs to speak to his staff sooner rather than later.”
“Okay. I’ll be in touch.” Devan went back to the table, reached for his coffee cup and once he’d emptied it, he walked away from the table.
“Hey,” Ravi called.
Devan ignored him, which was what he should have done yesterday.
Chapter Thirteen
FIRST THING ON FRIDAY MORNING, Jonty tried to creep out of Mike and Willis’s place before they woke, only to find them having breakfast in the kitchen, smiling at each other and laughing. He hesitated at the door. They looked happy, settled…in love, and Jonty felt a surge of longing powerful enough to make him wobble. He wished he had someone to have breakfast with, someone happy to see him, someone who wouldn’t let him down.
“Get in here and have something to eat,” Mike said.
“It’s fine. I can buy—”
“It’s toast and marmalade we’re offering, not scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.” Willis beckoned him. “Coffee?”
