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As if he knew she needed time to unpick her brain. Or maybe he just had other things to do, like putting his gargantuan intelligence to work solving the world’s problems, bit by bit.
“I’m glad. Now, about this weekend.”
Portia frowned.
“I know you might think you have to avoid coming home, but it will be so strange not to have you here. And awkward for us too. Jenny and Ron have been missing you, you know.”
At the mention of Jack’s parents, Portia’s spine tingled. “What’s happening this weekend?”
Stephanie sighed. “Jack’s thirtieth birthday, darling.”
Portia sat up straighter, staring straight ahead. “Oh, right, of course.” Her eyes flicked automatically to her computer, where the date was displayed in the top right corner.
“He misses you too, Portia.”
Portia’s eyes swept shut as she navigated a familiar sense of betrayal and anger. Anger that her mother wasn’t on her side. Wasn’t justtherefor her in the ways she needed. While she understood, to some degree, her parents’ split loyalty, it was also wrong. Jack had cheated. He’d broken her heart. He’d lied to her. Never mind that he was their godson and the son of their best friends. He’d hurther.Their only daughter. Didn’t that count for something?
“People make mistakes. Why don’t you come, just for a little while. A glass of champagne. Let him see you, talk to you…”
“No.” The answer blurted out of her, as her heart, finally, which had been trying to communicate to her all week, shouted loud enough for her to stop pretending not to know what it was saying. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
“It’s a work thing. I have to go away for the weekend. Sorry.”
Silence crackled down the line and Portia felt her mother’s disapproval. But her mind was far too firmly made up for any degree of guilt or maternal displeasure to come near changing it.
“On a weekend?”
“Yes, on a weekend, mum. My job isn’t normal. You know that.”
She didn’t feel even a whisper of guilt about lying. Suddenly, she was excited. Invigorated even.
A noise alerted her to the fact she wasn’t alone and when Portia looked up, it was to find Dante standing in the door frame, watching her thoughtfully, a wad of papers in his hand.
“I have to go.”
“You’ll at least text him, won’t you?”
Portia gritted her teeth. “I’ll call you next week. Love to dad.”
She disconnected the call, her cheeks flaming hot.
“Hi.” Dante looked at her quizzically and Portia tried her best to appear calm and unbothered.
“You need something?”
“Sure.” He handed her the files. “Can you deal with this?” She eyed the document, flicked through it, then nodded.
He turned and walked back towards his own office, pausing in the door. “Everything okay?”
She nodded quickly, her heart racing.
“We’re not going away for work this weekend,” he pointed out needlessly.
“I know.” She rubbed her finger, absentmindedly feeling the space where an engagement ring had once sat. “It’s Jack’s birthday. Mum was asking if I’m coming to his party.”
Dante let out a low whistle.
