Page 131 of For Love or Money
‘No.’ Lesley was relieved Al saw it that way. ‘She’s been humiliated enough already. It’d be cruel to bring it all back up again.’
‘Right. Well,’ Al said, raising his mug in salute, ‘congratulations on a job well done.’
‘Thank you.’ Lesley bumped her mug against his. ‘I’m going to miss this,’ she said, patting the file affectionately. ‘I guess you never forget your first.’
Al glanced at his watch. ‘Well, I have to get back to work. But we should celebrate this evening. Would you like to go out? Or shall we stay in and have champagne and sex?’
‘Champagne and sex, please.’ Lesley had discovered a newfound love of quiet nights in, and staying home with Al was her new favourite thing. Though they tended not to be very quiet, not with all the moaning and groaning that went on when the two of them got together. ‘Why don’t I call over to your house? Say around seven?’
‘Oh! Um ... why don’t I come here?’
Lesley frowned. That was the third time in the last few days that Al had put her off going to his house. ‘We’re always here. Why can’t we go to yours for a change? I’ve never even been to your house. I’m beginning to suspect you’re hiding something. I hope you don’t have a sex dungeon or a creepy doll collection or something.’
‘Oh no, nothing like that. It’s just ... I’m, um ... I’m having work done on my kitchen.’
‘Still?’
‘What do you mean still?’
‘You were having work done on your kitchen the first time I met you. That was ages ago.’
‘Yes, well ... it’s a big job. Big kitchen.’
‘I’ll have to take your word for it,’ she said huffily. ‘Okay, then. You come here.’
‘Great!’ he said, standing. ‘See you later.’ He bent to give her a quick kiss on the lips that turned into a long, lingering kiss that threatened to eat up the rest of the afternoon. God, how could she ever have thought he was a bad kisser?
‘Mmm, mustn’t start that,’ Al said, breaking away reluctantly. ‘Later.’
Lesley just sat there smiling dopily for a while after he’d gone. Then she picked up the folder and brought it into her office, filing it away. It had been fun getting to play amateur sleuth and she was very pleased with how the case had turned out, but now she needed to get back to real life and start tackling the backlog of work that had piled up in her absence.
But first there was one last investigation she needed to carry out on her own behalf. Al didn’t know it, but she’d just given him a test, and he’d failed it. She couldn’t suppress the niggling feeling that he was hiding something. Besides, lust had made her sloppy when it came to Al. She’d neglected to do the basic background checks she’d automatically undertake on a friend’s behalf. She took out a new manila folder and wrote Al’s name on the cover.
Three days later,she sat in her car across the road from Al’s house. She’d parked a few yards down the street so that hopefully she wouldn’t be spotted. But if she was, at least it would be easy enough to come up with a cover story. She’d watched Al setting off for work early in the morning, looking very handsome and capable with his hard hat in one hand and a bunch of rolled-up plans tucked under his arm. It had been over an hour since he’d driven off, and Lesley figured she could call it a day soon and return later for the evening shift. There was no point in watching an empty house.
Just as she was about to start the car, a delivery van arrived outside Al’s house. As the driver got out carrying a parcel, she decided she might as well stay and watch. At least she’d have something to show for her morning’s work. She watched as the courier rang the bell and waited – and then, the door opened. There was someone in the house!
Damn! She hadn’t been prepared for that. She scrabbled for her binoculars, but the angle she was at made it impossible to see who was signing for the package before the delivery man handed it over. She wanted to growl in frustration as the door closed again and the courier went on his way.
Shit! She gave the steering wheel an angry thump. So she’d been right. Al was hiding something and he’d been lying to her. She’d never wanted so badly to be wrong. She picked up her bag and took out her book. She’d have to settle in for the long haul.
* * *
Stella stoodon the beach at Killiney, watching the sun rise over the bay. She was going to miss this. She’d come so close, she thought, twisting the diamond ring on her finger. Maybe they could still ...
But no. She shut off the thought. Peter had been so kind and sympathetic since she’d come back from Galway and told him what had happened at her father’s funeral. He’d started talking about trips they would go on once his play was finished, and he’d invited Dan and Annie to come and stay whenever they liked. They’d been added to the wedding guest list and he was looking forward to meeting them. But she knew his heart wasn’t in it, and he was always a bit distant at the same time, as if his head – and his heart – were somewhere else. She suspected they were on a stage with Jane.
The past few days she’d felt he was pulling back a little, and a couple of times she’d thought he was gearing up to say something. She could feel him steeling himself to break it off with her, throwing her wary looks as he seemed on the verge of speaking. But then the moment would pass and still nothing was said. The wedding was getting closer, and if one of them didn’t put on the brakes soon ...
She didn’t know if Rafe had told him about her meltdown in Galway, but Peter had been treating her like she was made of glass lately. And as the days wore on, it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything to stop this juggernaut hurtling to its natural conclusion. She sighed, turning towards the house. If one of them was going to say something, it was going to have to be her.
She foundPeter in the kitchen, nursing a cup of green tea.
‘Good run?’ he asked.
‘Yes, great. It’s going to be another beautiful day.’ She sat down beside him at the kitchen table.
‘So what’s on the agenda today? No rehearsals, so I’m completely at your beck and call for wine choosing, flower arranging, menu planning. Whatever you want – I’m at your service! Well, maybe not flower arranging—’
