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Charlie asked the taxi driver to wait outside Halligans, then concentrated on getting himself into the right frame of mind. It wasn’t hard.
The po-faced woman on Reception was a dead ringer for Nurse Ratched, from the Jack Nicholson version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and how appropriate was that?
Charlie guessed her objective at work was simple—to keep patients and visitors as far apart as possible. However, he’d bet anything that her training didn’t include how to cope with him. He howled and wailed, almost bent double with grief, and staggered to the counter where he sobbed some more. He deserved an Oscar. For good measure, he waved a half-empty bottle of malt around—the other half had been poured on the ground outside—as he demanded to see the person in charge.
When someone generated this level of fuss, it didn’t take long to be seen. A young woman appeared within minutes—a skinny thing with huge, dark eyes. She reminded him of Sylvie.
“I’m Clare Talbot, the night manager. How can I help you?”
Charlie clung to the counter, wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and held back another sob. “I can’t believe it,” he cried. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” He adopted an Irish accent. He always thought the Irish sounded persuasive when they were drunk, and that was the impression he wanted to make—Drunk Dubliner.
Clare tried to take his arm, probably to lead him into a quiet office, but he stayed put.
“Who’s gone?” she asked.
“I can’t believe it. I flew in from New Zealand, as soon as I heard the news.”
Clare tried again to take his arm.
He shrugged her off and gesticulated with the malt. “Tell me it’s a practical joke, please.”
By now, the noise was attracting patients and staff alike, and clusters of people were gathering at a discreet distance.
“I’m sorry.” Clare started to sound stressed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What joke?”
He put down the malt and closed his hand around her arm “Please tell me she’s still alive.”
“Who?”
“Joni. I got a... message...” He pretended to be overcome and buried his face in his arm.
Clare was becoming more concerned by the minute. “Joni? You mean Joni Dean? What message?”
“For the love of god, please tell me it’s not true. I was told that she’d... oh God... died.”
Clare’s eyes opened wide. “Died? No. How did you hear that?”
Turning to face her fully, Charlie transferred his grip to the front of her white coat. “She’s alive? Saints be praised.” Was he overdoing the accent? Maybe not. He thickened the brogue. “But Clare, how can I be sure you’re telling me the truth? That this isn’t one huge cover up?”
She smiled a little woodenly. “I can assure you Mr... er... that Joni Dean is alive and well. I saw her fifteen minutes ago.”
“Please, let me see her. Please, Clare. I’ve travelled thousands of miles to be here now, and I need to be sure she’s still with me. And not just in here.” He banged his chest for emphasis.
Was that a sheen that appeared on her forehead? Her discomfort told him Ms Talbot wasn’t used to strangers weeping all over her. “I’m afraid our policy is no visitors—”
“Clare, Clare, Clare.” He had no qualms about interrupting. “All I want is two minutes, to prove to myself this has been one huge mistake. Please, let me see her, and then I’ll go away. My taxi is waiting outside.”
She was about to refuse.
He wouldn’t let her.
He dropped to his knees and tugged the hem of her white coat. “Joni.” He wailed at the top of his voice. “I just need to know she’s alive.”
The crowd of onlookers grew by the minute. Everybody wanted to see what had happened in the church-like Reception.
Clare leaned across the counter and muttered something to Nurse Ratched.
Yessss.
Charlie stayed on his knees, still wailing for Joni.
Moments later, Clare tried to release his fingers while talking to him in the soothing tones normally used on the elderly or the very sick. “She’s here now. You can see for yourself. Joni’s here. Come on, stand up.”
He risked a quick glance in the direction she was pointing. Nurse Ratched was hauling an attractive woman along by the arm, in the direction of Reception. The patient didn’t look happy about coming to see him.
“Now, then.” Clare was still soothing. “I’ll give you two minutes together, but that’s absolutely all. You can sit here.” She gestured to a clump of squashy-looking sofas and hauled Charlie to his feet.
He swayed theatrically and staggered toward the first sofa, as Nurse Ratched shoved the woman into the seat opposite.
“As you can see,” Clare sounded proud. “Joni Dean is absolutely fine.”
He blinked. This woman looked fine indeed. But she wasn’t Joni Dean.
*
Jean-Luc stuck to Juli’s side all morning. Everyone else called him Lucky, but she preferred his given name. It was fun to talk French to him. She was bilingual from birth, and although Jean-Luc had grown up in the States, he’d lived in Paris until he was seven and spoke the language like a native.
They schmoozed the delegates again for a couple of hours, and then listened to one of the speakers presenting an interesting approach to extending the run-time of batteries for electric vehicles. Jean-Luc spent the time playing Candy Crush on his phone, while Juli scribbled notes for things to check out later.
It was her keynote speech after lunch. She was prepared, but nerves still bubbled inside. Her talk was an adaptation of one she’d used before, to great success, but every conference was different. The audiences had different expectations.
She wouldn’t know until she was partway through her slides, whether or not the delegates were engaged. Whether they were paying attention or were more like Jean-Luc, playing with brightly coloured balls on their phones.
There would be time to check her presentation again when the sessions broke for lunch. It had been loaded into the central system, but she could tweak her delivery. Ask additional questions.
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice her phone vibrating on the counter, until Jean-Luc nudged her. “You gonna get that?”
She had a missed call from Jack, followed immediately by a text message.
Hi. Need to see you. Do you have 10 mins?
Maybe he was free for lunch? She sent her reply.
Yes! Breaking for lunch soon. My keynote is at 2pm. x
His reply pinged right back.
On my way. 10 mins. I need to leave and want to see you before I go. Wait there.
Oh. She didn’t like the sound of that. Anxiety nudged at her. Where was he going? And why?
“Everything okay?” Jean-Luc’s question dragged her out of her head.
“I’m not sure. I just had an odd text from Jack. He’s leaving. Do you know why?”
“He’s probably needed in Houston. He and Tanner own Griffon Security, so maybe one of them is needed back home. Some boss thing that can’t wait.”
It sounded plausible, but she hated the idea of not seeing him again, and that in itself was unsettling. She’d known him four days. She wasn’t the impulsive kind, to get attached so quickly. Not even when Jack looked at her the way he did, with an intensity that probably left scorch marks.
Not even then.
“You sure you’re okay?” asked Jean-Luc.
“Of course.” She spoke briskly.
“You look as though someone kicked your puppy. What did Jack do?” Jean-Luc paused and narrowed his eyes. “Are you and he a thing?”
To her mortification, she felt her cheeks heating. “No.” Yep, her face was probably glowing now. “Not really.” She clapped her hands to her burning cheeks. Liar, liar, face on fire. “Well, a little. You know.”
Jean-Luc sighed, and gave one of his expressive gallic shrugs. “I was gonna ask you on a date, but the boss moved in first. Typical.” He looked woebegone, and despite her anxiety, she couldn’t help smiling.
“Sorry. I like you, but you’re not Jack.”
“Mon coeur est cassé.” My heart is broken. He pretended to clutch at his chest and stagger.
His playacting lifted her mood. “Idiot,” she murmured. Her neck prickled, as though someone was watching her, and she turned around to see Jack striding across the hall.
He stopped at her side. “Am I interrupting something?”
Jean-Luc held up his hands and walked backward. “Nope. I’ll be on the stand if you want me.”
“Hey,” Jack said to her, in the rumbly voice that turned her insides to mush. “Can we talk somewhere quiet?”
“Sure. Let’s find a breakout room.” She headed down the corridor in search of an empty room, Jack at her side, his palm in the small of her back.
He was leaving, but she’d be fine. Aloof. Dignified. Four days, she chanted to herself. It was impossible to fall in love in four days.
*
Charlie looked up at Clare Talbot. “Could I please have a glass of water? I need a moment.”
She strode away. Nurse Ratched had slunk back to the counter, to stare from a distance. This was his chance.
The pretty young woman sitting opposite, glared at him.
With the staff safely out of earshot for a minute, Charlie leaned forward and spoke urgently. “Okay. I’ve known Joni since I was eight years old. Who the hell are you?”
She stared, mute.
There was still no sign of Clare. “Since they obviously think you’re Joni, if you want me to keep your secret, you’d better tell me what’s going on and where the real Joni is. Otherwise, I’ll tell the lovely Clare Talbot that you’re no more Joni Dean than I am.”
Indecision raged across her face. She bore a superficial resemblance to Joni. The same shape face, with high cheekbones, icy blue eyes, and straight blonde hair.
“She’ll be back in a minute,” he said. “I can tell her; it’s no problem to me.”
“Who are you?” She whispered, and Charlie smiled broadly.
“I’m Charlie, one of her oldest friends.” Okay, so he was stretching the truth a little, but hopefully she wouldn’t know. It was warm in here, and he tugged off the beanie.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened in excitement, and she reached forward to grip his hands. “It’s you. She’s left him.”
“Huh?” For a moment, he was lost. “You mean...?”
“Yes. She’s left Gregory. For you.”
It was Charlie’s turn to go mute. What the fuck was she talking about?
In his peripheral vision, he saw Clare Talbot approaching with a jug of water and two glasses.
“I’m Bea,” said the woman. “I’m Joni’s personal assistant. She told me she was leaving Gregory for the love of her life, but she needed a few weeks to get away before anyone noticed. So when Gregory decided he wanted her to come here, I brought her, and we swapped places. It was easy. It’s just to give her enough time to get to you. But you’re here.”
“Where is she, Bea? This is really important. Where was she going?”
“To New Zealand, of course.” She made it sound obvious. “That’s where she said she’d find you.”
“Me? She definitely said she was looking for me?” After the day he’d had, what was one more piece of madness?
Bea paused, and glanced sideways. She couldn’t miss Clare approaching. “She told me she’d found the love of her life and had to go to New Zealand to be with him. I’m sure she mentioned your name. Charlie. Or was it Callum?”
*
Juli was hyper-aware of Jack’s touch. The noises from the conference hall faded, as they walked together. Voices spilled out from the first breakout room, but the second was empty. She led Jack inside and closed the door, before leaning against it.
“So.” She made her voice bright and friendly. “You’re leaving?”
He nodded—a small movement—his gaze fixed on hers.
They stood only inches apart. She longed to kiss him, but she had some questions first. “What’s happening, Jack?” Her voice cracked when she said his name.
He stepped forward and opened his arms, and she stumbled into his embrace. Closing her eyes, she pressed her face against his chest, slid her arms around his waist, and tried to merge her body into his.
Hard Fact Number One—she didn’t want to let him go.
“Juli.” He whispered her name, cupping his hands around her cheeks and lifting her face to his. He dropped his head and captured her lips in a kiss. The familiar heat sparked between them. He kissed her deeper, harder, taking everything she gave.
She was drowning in his kiss.
Her breath raced, and her heart pounded, and the kiss continued. Common sense declared they couldn’t stay here all day, but the reality of him pulling back made her whimper.
“I need to talk to you.” His voice was hoarse. “I have to leave this afternoon. There’s another job I need to go to. I wanted to tell you in person.”
“You’re off to Houston? Jean-Luc thought you might be going back to your base.” She was proud of how composed she sounded.
“Yeah.” Something like guilt flickered in his eyes.
Juli was instantly wary. “Is there a problem? I guess there must be.”
“There’s something I need to take care of. It’s not my choice to go.”
Hard Fact Number Two—he was lying through his straight, white teeth. She just knew.
Juli crossed her arms across her chest. She could walk away and try to forget him, or she could give him a chance to be honest. As honest as she was with Philip? Juli shoved that thought to the side and focused on Jack. “Is this something to do with last night? Coming home covered in blood? Are you in trouble?”
“I wasn’t covered in blood.”
“You had someone else’s blood on your shirt and no explanation why. Maybe tell me the truth?” Ouch. Did she mean to sound like a snarky housewife in a fifties sitcom?
“Juli.” He stepped forward into her space again and closed his hands around her shoulders. “I hate leaving you. That’s the goddamn truth. I wanted more time, to see if this could go somewhere, and that’s also the truth. I can’t give you details, but I want you to trust me. Okay? Can you do that?”
She wanted to. God, how she wanted to.
He smoothed his finger across her lips, and it reminded her of their first kiss, after the gelato.
She shifted her mouth to catch his fingertip in her teeth. He groaned, and then crushed her to him again, kissing her with a desperation she felt down to her toes.
They separated far too soon. He stroked her hair... Kissed her eyelids... Nuzzled her throat...
Hard Fact Number Three—she was going to make a complete fool of herself over this man.
“I’ll miss you, Jack.”
“Stay with Lucky. Don’t go anywhere on your own.”
She gazed at him. There was so much she wanted to say. “Will I see you again?”
He hesitated. “I hope so.” He pressed one last hungry kiss on her lips, and then pulled back. “I have to go now.”
Her tongue could have been glued to the roof of her mouth. She watched silently, as he reached for the door. Her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and her chest hurt when he strode down the corridor.