8

 

Eleanor nodded to Patrick and then headed through the back entrance of the club, while Shay went in through the front as a normal punter. She glanced behind to see him head around the front to join Shay. He’d tried to insist on coming in the back with her, but that would have been wrong. She’d have gotten into trouble for that.

The office door was shut and she heard PJ shouting at Jake as she passed. She glanced into Zeke’s office, which was empty, then headed into the bar itself. She shivered as Zeke’s gaze ran over her. He didn’t approve, and she knew that before he even opened his mouth.

He reached her in several large strides. “You can’t sing in jeans and a shirt. Where’s your evening dress?”

“I can sing perfectly well like this, and my dress is at home. What I wear isn’t going to affect my voice.” She pushed past him, to find him grab her arm, his fingers digging in painfully.

“Just remember who you’re talking to,” he hissed. “I hold the purse strings and the record deal. That can vanish as quickly as you can blink.”

“I know that.” She kept her voice low, not wanting to worry Patrick. He stood by the bar, keeping his steel gaze on her. Shay had seated herself near the door. “But it still needs cleaning after you spilled that drink down it, therefore I don’t have anything to wear. I can’t get it to the cleaners for a couple of days yet.”

“Then I’ll give you an advance and you can go and buy one for tomorrow night.” He opened the cash register and pulled out a wad of twenties. He folded them, and leaning forwards, tucked the notes inside her shirt. Her skin crawled and she shuddered. “PJ has given special instructions concerning you, babe. But if you think that makes you invincible, think again.”

Her cheeks burned and she turned her face to one side, not wanting to see Patrick’s reaction. She slapped Zeke’s hand away, then her head jerked as his hand connected sharply with her cheek.

Suddenly Patrick was there. “Elle, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Her face stung, but she wasn’t going to give Zeke the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Do you want to press charges?”

“No, I need to go and get ready.”

“OK.” He looked at Zeke and lowered his voice. “You raise your hand to her again and I’ll have you arrested for assault. No matter what the lady wants.”

“I think you need to leave.”

 

Patrick drew himself up to his full height. “If I leave, so does Elle.”

Zeke stared at him, smirked, then raked his eyes over her. “Is that so? Is he your boyfriend or something? Are you really going to jump because he says to?”

She swallowed hard. She’d never stood up to him. She’d always been afraid of what he’d do. But now he’d actually hit her? She wasn’t so scared. At least, not with Patrick at her side protecting her. “Yeah…” Her voice wavered. She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

Zeke’s face creased in shock. “I’m sorry?”

“I said yes. I asked Patrick here tonight. If he can’t stay, nor can I.” She held his gaze. “So, do I sing or do I walk?”

“Sing. Then we discuss this. You, me and the boss. Your boyfriend can wait here for you.”

Patrick opened his mouth to argue but Zeke cut him off.

“It’s non-negotiable. She won’t be more than half an hour.”

“Elle…”

“I’ll be fine, Patrick.” She turned to Zeke. “The meeting sounds thrilling. I can’t wait.” She pulled the money from inside her shirt and dropped it onto the bar. “I don’t need this. As I said, what I wear doesn’t affect how I sing. I’m sure the punters won’t care either.”

She walked over to the microphone to begin the first set. As she sang, she watched Patrick. He sat at the bar, sipping his iced water keeping his eyes alternately on her and everyone else. Shay sat near him but not with him, watching the crowds coming and going.

They made a good pair. Almost as good as she and Patrick once had—with him she’d felt invincible. She’d thought, hoped, prayed that they’d be together forever. But things had turned sour after one night in April and she had been left with no alternative but to run.

Before she realized, the music ended and the audience clapped. Was the first set over already?

She got up and walked across to Patrick, gratefully taking the glass of water he held out to her. “I don’t remember any of that.” Her hands were shaking

“Well, you knocked their socks off,” he said, toasting her.

She chinked her glass against his. “Glad to hear it.”

“You honestly don’t remember singing?” He leaned forward, concerned.

“No. I assume I didn’t fluff the words at all.”

He shook his head. “Nope. At least not the ones I knew.” He took a long sip. “Do they have the music for any that you wrote?”

“I don’t know. Probably not here. Why?”

“I’d like to hear something that you came up with.”

She tilted her head, studying him. Was he just playing with her now? Was she just a case to him? Or was he trying to reopen old wounds and continue the conversation from before despite her wishes? She had to keep him at arm’s length because if she didn’t he’d be back in her heart before she knew it. “Really?”

He nodded. “I expect it’d rock this place. Even if it were a secular one.”

“I told you, God and I parted terms…”

He tipped his glass at her. “One thing you need to remember about the Lord, Elle. You may let go of Him, but He never lets go of you.”

“It’s too late,” she whispered, grief filling her heart.

“Why?” he asked. “No one is beyond redemption, no matter what they think.”

“I am. I can’t explain here, but I am.”

“You’ll have to explain later.”

She finished her water. “Maybe not tonight. I’m tired.”

“Fair enough, it’s been a long day for all of us. But at some point you’re going to have to come clean.”

She looked down at her empty glass, hesitating. She didn’t want to talk about it at all. Perhaps if she agreed, he’d drop it and then forget about it.

“OK.” She touched his hand for a moment, jerking back. She hadn’t expected the jolt of electricity to pass between them.

His gaze held hers and then he took her hand. “You felt it too.”

“I did, but I can’t act on it.”

“Why not? We’re both adults here. There is nothing stopping us from going out with each other once this is over. Start again, see where we end up.”

She sighed. “Patrick, I made a promise to someone and I have to honor it.”

He dropped her hand like a lead balloon. “Were you engaged? Are you now?”

“No. Nothing like that. I would have told you if there was someone else when we were together.”

“A promise to do what, then? Stay single?”

Sucking in a long deep breath, she stood. “As it happens, yeah.”

“A promise? Who to?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “The promise stands. It has to.”

She headed back to the stage. But it did matter, because she now knew without a doubt that Patrick had stolen back into her heart where he belonged.

 

****

 

Eleanor followed Zeke back to the office. Patrick had made his objections again, but Zeke had over ruled him. She glanced behind as the door shut, seeing Patrick sat at the edge of the bar, eyes trained on her and the door.

“You are treading a fine line here,” Zeke told her. “Just because the boss fancies you, doesn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry?” She looked at him in amazement. “The boss what? I am not involved with Jake.”

“I mean PJ. He owns the club. Jake just manages it. Besides, everyone can see it. The cozy chats you have in his office. The huge pay rise he just gave you. Tell me, are you sleeping with him?”

Her hand shot out and slapped him before she realized what she was doing. “How dare you? No, I’m not, and even if I was it’d be none of your business.” She stormed ahead, barging into the office without knocking.

PJ jumped at the sudden intrusion and turned, sliding something into his pocket. “Can’t you knock…Eleanor, babe.” He crossed the room and kissed her cheek. He glanced at the two men in the room and nodded to the man slumped between them. “Get him out of here.”

The men nodded, dragging the unconscious man from the room.

Eleanor swallowed hard. Was that Jake? Was that blood on his shirt? Was he dead?

PJ dragged her attention back to him, by kissing her cheek again. “You were great tonight, watched you from here. Your outfit though leaves a lot to be desired. I thought I made it clear you had to sing in a dress. Not dressed like a tramp.”

She snorted. “I look more like a tramp in those slinky silver things than I do in this.”

Zeke scowled as he shut the door. “I told her she should change. She came up with a pitiful excuse why she couldn’t. Her boyfriend even threatened to have me arrested.”

“Only after you hit me,” Eleanor snapped. She looked at PJ. “What’s this about a pay rise?”

“I was going to talk to you about that. And something else. Have a seat. Zeke, leave us. I’ll deal with this.”

She perched on the edge of the seat, suddenly aware that she was alone with PJ and he was well and truly in her personal space. “I haven’t got long tonight.”

“Hot date? I assume it’s the bloke who’s been hanging around.”

“Something like that.”

He trailed his hand across her shoulders. “Known him long? Is Zeke right about him being your boyfriend?”

“I’ve known him a while. Years actually, we’re old friends. Look, what is this? There is nothing in my contract that says I can’t have a boyfriend, is there?”

“No. I’m just looking out for you.” PJ sat opposite her. He slid another package over the table. “Keep this for now. I can’t have it here.”

“What is it?”

“Doesn’t matter what it is. Look after it. It’s sealed and I want it sealed when I get it back.”

She slid it into her bag. “OK. Where do I take it?”

“You don’t. Someone will come and pick it up. It’s a one off doing it this way. It’s perfectly safe, so don’t worry.” He smiled at her. “While you’re here, I wanted to talk to you about your father.”

She looked at him. “He’s dead. He was killed in a hunting accident several years ago.”

“Yes. Tragic, but if you play with fire, then you get burned.”

“Huh? You’ve lost me.”

PJ opened a file on his desk. “I thought I might have. I also thought it was time that someone told you the truth about him. Did you know he worked for me?”

She frowned. “That can’t be right. Dad was an accountant, nothing to do with the music industry...or bars.”

“I haven’t always worked in music and nightclubs. I made my money elsewhere. Your father was my accountant when I first started out, a working relationship that lasted until his death. He was a pretty good one too; he’d worked for my father for a few years. That is, until he got greedy and started skimming the books.” His eyes hardened and he shut the file with a resounding thud. “Then he decided to run something on the side, and got a little too arrogant. It didn’t work.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“It was my money that put you through college. He worked for me for years. You kept moving because I told him to, to go where I needed him most.”

“What?” Bile rose in her throat and she twisted her hands. “I thought…” Had her parents lied to her? They’d said it was the embarrassment of her illegitimate child and the shame of her being a nightclub singer. And she’d believed them...

PJ smirked. “Yes, Eleanor. Your father was as corrupt as they come. But a bent accountant has their uses. Hence, he kept working for me, and you kept moving when I needed him elsewhere. And with you singing in my clubs, I could keep tabs on you as well.”

“Oh…”

“You can go far if you do what I tell you.” His hand reached over the desk and ran up her arm. “Record deals are just the tip of the iceberg.”

She pulled her arm back, not wanting to talk about her father any longer. She needed to assimilate what she’d been told and she couldn’t do that here.

“I need some time off.” She took a deep breath. She hated lying but didn’t have much of a choice. Patrick would never go for her coming here every night, not matter how much she begged. Once had been pushing it. “Looks like I need to babysit the next few nights and as I can’t bring my sister here, then I need to stay at home with her.”

“No can do. You’ll need to find a babysitter. Hey…” he winked at her. “Maybe the boyfriend could do it. Zeke said he took her the other night. I’m sure he’d oblige.”

“I can’t ask him.”

PJ looked thoughtful for a moment, then smirked at her. “If he loves you as much as it appears he does, he’ll do anything for you. Ask him. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

****

 

Driving back to the safe house, Patrick glanced in the driving mirror at the two women in the back of the car. Shay was ever vigilant. Elle, on the other hand, had her eyes closed, exhausted, no doubt, by the twists and turns the day had taken. Totally understandable. He’d been pushed to the limit the last few days, without the emotional strain of Elle being thrust back into his life again.

Should he have tried harder to find her? What had happened to cause such a change in her? She only ever seemed to come to life when she sang.

He shot Shay a barely perceptible nod before he turned his attention back to the road.

Just as Nahum expected, Elle had pushed to go to the club. Just as planned, he objected then relented. He refused to believe Elle was involved in this drug ring, and the best way to clear her was to keep appearances as normal as possible and keep her singing. Not that he liked the way she dressed or the lyrics she chose. But it was her choice and she wasn’t prepared to discuss her faith, or lack of it, with him right now. He wasn’t going to let it drop, however. The fate of her soul hung in the balance.

Lord, Elle needs my help. Not just to keep her safe from Foster if that’s who this Mr. F turns out to be, but to guide her back to You. I don’t know what she thinks she did that was so terrible, but the very fact she says she’s beyond redemption, indicates to me at least, that she hasn’t done anything that unforgivable.

He glanced at her again. His feelings for her hadn’t changed, yet he knew deep down there wasn’t a chance of anything developing between them. And it wasn’t just the fact he didn’t have time.

She didn’t want him anymore. Her attitude towards him made that perfectly clear. Well, that wasn’t going to stop him from loving her, looking out for her, and protecting her to the best of his ability.

Whether she liked the idea or not.

And as for the fight with her manager? Someone in the club had threatened Elle, and he had a good idea now who it was. Whether he was involved in the drug ring or not, Zeke had just put himself on the MI5 radar. If Patrick had tipped his hand, it would have exposed Elle and that wasn’t going to happen—at least not yet. He had a role to play here, and it wasn’t to look threatening. Thus he’d sat back down at the bar and waited. He’d bide his time, then this Zeke bloke would pay for hitting Elle.

He parked outside the safe house and secured the area before nodding to Shay. She woke Eleanor and together they escorted her inside the house as quickly as possible.

Shay looked at Patrick. “I don’t know about you, but I’m shattered. You all right if I go to bed?”

Patrick nodded. “Sure. I need to unwind for a bit first anyway.”

“OK, good night.” She headed up the stairs.

Eleanor looked at him. “Bit early to go to bed, isn’t it?”

“We’ve worked pretty much every hour there is since Monday,” he explained. “The case culminated in a raid and shootout this morning. The last time I actually saw a bed was Sunday night.”

“But it’s Thursday. How did you manage?”

“Cat napped at the desk. It’s just the way it goes sometimes.”

“If you want to sleep…”

He stifled a yawn. “In a bit. Once Nigel gets here.”

Her face creased. “Who’s Nigel? I thought you and Shay were my guard dogs.”

He grimaced at her derogatory tone. He’d have preferred sheep dog given the choice. “He’s doing the nightshift. He’ll sit in the lounge and watch TV.”

“OK. Silly question, but why can’t you sleep now?”

“Because if I’m asleep, I can’t protect you.” He broke off as his phone rang. “Shame I don’t get paid extra to answer this,” he quipped. “Page.” He listened for a moment. “What’s wrong? Oh, no, is she all right? I see. OK, no, no, you stay home and make sure she rests up. We’ll manage. Yes—Give Laura a hug from me and tell her to go to bed and stay there. OK. Good night.”

“What’s up?” Her hand touched his arm, sending rivers of warmth pouring through him and straight to his stomach.

“That was Nigel. He’s been at the hospital with his wife most of the afternoon.”

“That’s not good. Is she all right?”

Patrick nodded his head. Nigel and Laura had been trying for a baby for years. And a scare like this was the last thing either of them needed. “As long as she rests, she’ll be fine. So I’ll go take a cold shower to wake up some and then make a pot of coffee.”

“There’s no need. You don’t need to watch me. I’m tired. If I go to bed, you can lock up and sleep, too. This is a safe house, right? No one knows where we are?”

“Yeah…” What was she getting at? Maybe he was more tired than he thought. Or she just didn’t understand. Surely she wasn’t that naïve?

“So we’ll be fine. Lock up. Go to bed and sleep. You look exhausted. I trust you not to let anything happen. Good night.”

He stood in the hall, completely dumbfounded, as she crossed the small space to the stairs and vanished up them. Locking the front door, he then pulled the heavy curtain across it and flicked off the light.

This Elle was a paradox. Just when he though he’d figured her out, she blindsided him with something else. Maybe the old Elle was still there. The Elle he’d fallen in love with, and still was in love with. But she’d made it clear she didn’t feel the same way. He could live with that. Couldn’t he?

He went upstairs, showered and returned to the sofa fully dressed. At least this way he’d be on guard, albeit asleep.

Lord God, keep watch over us tonight.