‘And it’s going well?’
‘Very well. Much better than we’d ever imagined.’ A sudden unpleasant thought struck him. Was he being particularly dense here? Had she contacted him because she wanted money or –?
‘Sorry,’ she said, as if reading his mind. ‘I only asked out of interest. Please don’t think I want anything. Money, I mean, or anything like that. Because I don’t. I just wanted to meet you. To find out a bit about you. But if you’d rather not –’
Rich reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘I would,’ he said.
***
‘I can’t believe it,’ admitted Annie, clearing away the remains of the vegetable lasagne her husband, Jake, had made for dinner. ‘I mean, I thought –’
Portia nodded as she sliced off a sliver of Stilton from the hunk on the board in front of her. ‘That there’d be loads of money left?’
Annie grimaced. ‘Not that it’s any of my business. But I merely assumed –’
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