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Grace stares at me. “You own a load of buildings, Evie? You? On your own? You never said.”
“Errrrr, I don’t like to talk about it generally.”
“Oh God, Evie, I’m so sorry. Marcus told me on a conference call the other day. Said I should ask you about them. He thought some of the acoustics we could build in… Jeez, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that Kenny,” I try to make him feel better. “It's just that I may not sell any. It may be just rental, so I don’t want to take you there and say here’s what you could have, but I’m not selling.”
“Well, I’m happy to rent it as long as it’s longer term. I just don’t want short term stuff, we can’t get settled. And as it's you, I’m sure Marcus will approve it.”
I figure as the cat is out of the bag, may as well go for gold and tell them how amazing my buildings are. “Okay, well, if you want to come over Tuesday next week, I’m there then. I can show you what I did to the building that’s done. And in fact, I’ve nearly finished another one. We can see which one will be good for you.”
I start to gush as I think of my buildings, my whole body lighting up with enthusiasm. “They’re all beautiful. Well, I think so.” Kenny’s smile gets wider and wider as I carry on. “The one I live in is heaven. I’ll send you the address. Will 12:30 be okay? I can make you lunch in the courtyard, it’s a divine space.” He nods, still grinning, and adds it to his calendar.
As I go to pick up my bag from the floor, I look across the room, and freeze. It’s her. I know she’s seen me, the whole restaurant has probably heard and seen me blathering on about my buildings. And now she’s staring over at us.
Isobel.
Fuck.
“Don’t look now, but wicked witch of the west at three o’clock,” I say to both Grace and Kenny. And what do they do? Spin around and look, of course. Double Fuck.
“Which bit of ‘don’t look now’ were you two not understanding?” I laugh, shaking my head. “No way,” I squeak out as she comes towards me. I look over to check Tommy has seen her, and of course he’s clocked her and is hot on her heels. She’s so laser focused on me, she doesn't even notice Tommy behind her.
“Evie, I’m sorry to bother you.” I don’t look up. “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”
Talk about a stupid statement.
I sneer at her, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Yet here you are.”
So desperate to impart her views, she ignores my tone, rushing on, “I need to talk to you about Jude. He’s not doing well. He’s…”
“What? Because you’re not his girlfriend?” I interrupt her.
“NO, Evie. Because he can’t see you. He needs to talk things through with you. Please, Evie. Please see him.” I look behind her at Tommy and her eyes go wide as she finally seems to take stock of her surroundings. “I’m going, but please, please speak to Jude, he’s a mess, he’s…”
Tommy touches her elbow and she flinches. I focus sharply on her face. She looks terrified. What’s that all about? “I’ll sort it one way or another. Leave it with me,” I tell her. I can tell she’s mulling that over. My deliberately ambiguous statement could mean good or bad, she’s not sure. Looking squarely into her eyes, I say with confidence, “I’ll sort it.”
She capitulates, her body sagging knowing that’s all that’s coming. I follow her progress as she moves back through the restaurant towards the large group of women she’s come with. And what a surprise, they’re all staring at me. Not one friendly. God, has Kellen bonked them all? Probably.
Grace and Kenny are looking at the women now, too. “Do you know them, Evie?” Grace asks, shocked at the animosity directed our way.
“Not a one. Only Isobel. And to be fair, I wish that wasn’t true.”
“What’s up with them all, then?” she asks, discernable confusion in her eyes.
“Probs Kellen, if I had to guess,” I mutter in a bored voice, rolling my eyes for effect.
Kenny starts to laugh. “Definitely a Marcus stare, that one.” He points subtly at a very beautiful, statuesque blonde who seems to be glaring more than the rest.
“Even when I’m actively avoiding him, he haunts me,” I sigh and shrug. “Oh well, let's have another drink and ignore them.”
I chat on cheerfully, but my mind is going ten to the dozen. What’s up with Jude? Why’s she so worried? I may have to come out of hibernation to have a look-see. I’m enjoying my hiatus, my Greystone free zone. But I don’t want my brothers in bits as I’m doing it.
The next day in my apartment, in my lovely renovated building, watching the boats go up and down the Thames, I pick up the phone, take a deep breath, and punch in Jude’s number.
He answers on the first ring. “Evie, Evie I, How..”
Oh dear, we’re at that stage.
