ELIZABETH knew she’d be paired with Harry for the stroll along the boardwalk to the marina, and she was. There was no point in trying to fight for Michael’s company. His preference for Lucy to be at his side had been made so clear, pride dictated that the arrangement be accepted with as much dignified grace as she could muster.
The two of them walked ahead and it was sickening watching the connection between them flourishing. Lucy, of course, was never short of a word, and Michael was lapping up every one of them, enjoying her bubbly personality. It wouldn’t last, Elizabeth told herself, but that was no consolation. The damage was done. Lucy had achieved in one minute flat what she had been unable to draw from Michael in two years. Even if he turned to her later on, she would never be able to forget that.
The boardwalk ran along the water’s edge of the park adjoining The Esplanade, and she tried to distract herself with the people they passed; couples lounging under the shade of trees, children making use of the play areas set up for them, boys scaling the rock-climb. It was a relief that Harry was leaving her to her silence for a while. It was difficult to cope with him at the best of times, and this was the worst.
She could have chosen to tell Lucy about her secret passion for her boss. That would have warned her off although she wouldn’t have understood it. It simply wasn’t in Lucy to pine for a man who didn’t respond to her as she wanted him to respond. She probably would have looked aghast and said, ‘Throw him away, Ellie. He’s not that into you if you’ve waited this long for him to make a move.’
That truth was staring her in the face right now.
And it hurt.
It hurt so badly, she had to keep blinking back the tears that threatened to well into her eyes. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. She’d been a fool to hope, a fool to think today might be the day. It was never going to happen for her.
‘Ellie …’
It was a jolt to her wounded heart, hearing Harry speak her childhood name in a low, caressing tone.
‘I like it,’ he went on. ‘Much better than Elizabeth. It conjures up a more carefree person, softer, more accessible.’
Her spine stiffened. He was doing it again, digging at her. She shot him a hard, mocking look. ‘Don’t get carried away by it. Lucy simply couldn’t say Elizabeth when she was little. She calls me Ellie out of habit.’
‘And affection, I think.’ There was a look of kindness in his eyes that screwed up her stomach as he added, ‘She doesn’t know she’s hurting you, does she?’
Her mind jammed in disbelief over Harry’s insightful comment. ‘What do you mean?’
He grimaced at her prevarication. ‘Give it up, Ellie. You’re not Mickey’s type. I could have told you so but you wouldn’t have believed me.’
Humiliation burned through her. Her cheeks flamed with it. She tore her gaze from the certain knowledge in Harry Finn’s and stared at his brother’s back—the back Michael had turned on her to be with her sister. How had Harry known what she’d yearned for? Had Michael known, too? She couldn’t bear this. She would have to resign from her job, find another.
‘Don’t worry,’ Harry said soothingly. ‘You can keep on working for him if you want to. Mickey doesn’t have a clue. He’s always had tunnel vision—sets his mind on something and nothing else exists.’
Relief reduced some of the heat. Nevertheless, it was still intensely disturbing that Harry was somehow reading her mind. Or was he guessing, picking up clues from her reactions? She hadn’t admitted anything. He couldn’t really know, could he?
‘On the other hand, it would be much better if you did resign,’ he went on. ‘It’s never good to keep being reminded of failure. And no need to go job-hunting. You can come and work for me.’
Work for him? Never in a million years! It spurred her into tackling him head-on, her eyes blazing with the fire of battle. ‘Let me tell you, Harry Finn, I have never failed at any work Michael has given me and working for you has no appeal whatsoever.’
He grinned at her. ‘Think of the pleasure of saying what you think of me at every turn instead of having to keep yourself bottled up around Mickey.’
‘I am not bottled up,’ she declared vehemently.
He sighed. ‘Why not be honest instead of playing the pretend-game? Your fantasy of having Mickey fall at your feet is never going to come true. Face it. Give it up. Look at me as the best tonic for lovesickness you could have. Balls of fire come out of you the moment I’m around.’
‘That’s because you’re so annoying!’
Her voice had risen to a passionate outburst, loud enough to attract Michael’s and Lucy’s attention, breaking their absorption in each other. They paused in their walk, turning around with eyebrows raised.
‘It’s okay,’ Elizabeth quickly assured them. ‘Harry was just being Harry.’
‘Be nice to Elizabeth, Harry,’ Michael chided. ‘It’s her birthday.’
‘I am being nice,’ he protested.
‘Try harder,’ Michael advised, dismissing the distraction to continue his tête-à-tête with Lucy.
‘Right!’ Harry muttered. ‘We need some control here, Ellie, if you want to pretend there’s nothing wrong in your world.’
‘The only thing wrong in my world is you,’ she muttered back fiercely. ‘And don’t call me Ellie.’
‘Elizabeth reigns,’ he said in mock resignation.
She bit her lips, determined not to rise to any more of his baits.
They walked on for a while before he started again.
‘This won’t do,’ he said decisively. ‘We’ll be at the restaurant soon. If you sit there in glum silence, I’ll get the blame for it and that’s not fair. It’s not my fault that Mickey’s attracted to your sister. Your best move is to start flirting with me. Who knows? He might suddenly get jealous.’
This suggestion stirred a flicker of hope. Maybe …
The shared laughter from the couple in front of them dashed the hope before it could take wing. Nevertheless, Harry did have a valid point. If she didn’t pretend to be having a good time, even Michael and Lucy would realise this birthday treat was no treat at all for her. She had to look happy even though she couldn’t be happy.
She sighed and slid him a weighing look. ‘You know it won’t mean anything if I flirt with you.’
‘Not a thing!’ he readily agreed.
‘It’s just for the sake of making a cheerful party.’
‘Of course.’
‘It’s obvious that you’re a dyed-in-the-wool playboy, and normally I wouldn’t have anything to do with you, Harry, but since I’m stuck with you on this occasion, I’ll play along for once.’
‘Good thinking! Though I take exception to the playboy tag. I do know how to play, which I consider an important part of living—something I suspect you do too little of—but that’s not all I am.’
‘Whatever …’ She shrugged off any argument about his personality. Arguing would only get her all heated again and she needed to be calm, in control of herself. Harry was right about that.
They’d walked past the yacht club and were on the path to the cocktail bar adjoining the restaurant when Harry made his next move.
‘Hey, Mickey!’ he called out. ‘I’ll buy the girls cocktails while you see the maître d’ about our table.’
‘Okay’ was tossed back at him, his attention reverting to Lucy with barely a pause.
‘No