Isla wrapped the blanket around her tighter. She'd had no appetite for supper and now sat snuggled up in her armchair at home, listening to the rain tap against the window. A candle burned on the table next to her and she watched the flame flicker silently. She remembered hearing one time that a person's home reflected his state of mind. That was certainly true of her now. The place was so quiet and still.
She looked around and wondered when she'd decided to trade in her dream life for this one. SoHo was nice and her apartment, by anyone's standards, was stunning. But it was empty and she was alone. The shaggy dog, noisy kids and loving husband she assumed she'd have, had been replaced by artwork, expensive clothes and loneliness. Her entire life was wrapped up in a career she hadn't chosen.
She wanted a hug. One of Marlowe's hugs.
Everything seemed to be better when he was around, but he'd only be around another couple of months. The fiasco at work would likely take years to recover from — if they recovered at all.
Her head throbbed. Maybe she was simply getting a cold and with a good night's sleep, she'd feel better. Instantly she imagined Marlowe tucked in behind her, with his arm over her waist. He had a way of comforting her and making her believe things would be ok. She could call him and tell him, in a cryptic sort of way, what was troubling her. He'd know what to say.
A cell phone rang and for a moment, she had the crazy idea that somehow she'd summoned him. Then she realized it was her work phone and not the one Seduction had provided. It was on the coffee table and out of reach, but she could see the screen.
Joe. He'd called a half dozen times already and left messages of concern.
If she asked, he'd come by and make her tea with a little shot of brandy. He'd stay with her. He wouldn't say the right things, of course — he didn't have Marlowe's knack for it — but at least she wouldn't be alone.
Marlowe couldn't come, but Joe could. She wouldn't have to be alone, lying awake, staring into the darkness and worrying about things to come.
One quick call would avoid another sleepless night.
She picked up her cell and selected his number. The line connected and started to ring.
Then, she remembered Marian.
"Hello?" He sounded anxious, and maybe a little surprised to have heard from her. "Isla, are you there?"
She pulled the phone from her ear and watched the seconds tick over on the call timer. Without responding, she disconnected and powered down the device.
Tonight, she'd make the tea and brandy herself.