But it was fine.
She’d had plenty of time to work out what she was going to say. The hilariously weird tale of them meeting up at the motorway services took ages. Then the extraordinary notion of them both—independently—having the same idea of a place to hide out.
Her cousin obligingly laughed, exclaimed in all the right places, but was clearly less than convinced. ‘Okay, that’s the version for public consumption. When you feel like telling me what really happened, I’ll be here with the shoulder to cry on.’ Then, before Willow could deny there was another version, Crysse shrieked. ‘What on earth is that?’
Stepping out from behind Willow, Sean grinned. ‘A fish.’ She pulled a face. ‘I thought we might have it grilled for dinner.’
‘Think again.’
‘Where’s Mike?’ Willow asked.
‘He’s just taking a shower, he’ll be down in a minute. And now I’ve given my beloved proof of my abilities as a hunter, I’m going to deliver this to the hotel kitchen and follow his example.’
‘You do that. But next time check out the frozen-food department in the supermarket,’ Crysse called after him. ‘The fish there don’t have whiskers.’
‘Actually,’ Willow said quickly, ‘I think maybe I’ll take a shower, too. And maybe take a nap before dinner. My body clock is totally out of sync.’
Crysse still looked unimpressed. ‘I’ll tell Mike shall I? Or will he know you’re avoiding him?’
‘I’m not—’
‘Puh-lease, darling. Treat me like an idiot if you must, but don’t expect me to play along.’ She peered over the top of her dark glasses. ‘You messed up your own wedding, sweetie, but I’m warning you, do anything to spoil mine and you’re cats’ meat.’
Willow unlocked her door and let herself in, leaning back against it, breathless from her haste to avoid seeing Mike. Facing the questions he wasn’t asking. Yet.
The room was cool, the curtains billowing in the breeze off the ocean. She frowned. She hadn’t left the French doors open. Anyone could walk in.
Anyone had.
‘Mike.’
‘Willow,’ he responded from the bed, where he was stretched out, hands behind his head, ankles crossed.
‘How did you get in?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘No, I suppose not. I thought you were taking a shower. Going down for a drink—’
‘That’s what I told Sean. I wanted to check whether I was being paranoid, or whether you really were avoiding me. Now I know. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Tell you?’
‘This could be a very long conversation. Or it could be a short one. Shall we try for brevity, since there’s rather a lot to get through?’
‘Mike—’
‘I’ll make it easy for you, shall I? I’ll ask the questions, you can give me the answers. Tell me about your job.’
‘You know—’
‘Or maybe I should say about your not having a job. About the fact that you told Toby Townsend what he could do with his precious job when you understood what it entailed.’
She felt the blood drain from her face. Felt faint, dizzy. ‘Who’ve you been talking to?’
‘Jake. I picked up your phone by mistake this morning…’ He’d been going to say, unfortunately, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. From his point of view it had been a very fortunate mistake ‘…which is why he got me instead of you. He wanted you to know that Aunt Lucy is out of harm’s way.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’
‘So we come to question number two.’ He swung his feet off the bed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked, advancing on her. She took a step back. ‘About the Globe…’ She took another. ‘About Aunt Lucy…’ She was running out of room to retreat. ‘About Toby Townsend…’ Her back was against the wall and his fingers caught at a stray curl, tucked it away behind her ear. Leaving her face exposed. Vulnerable. Her skin burning where he’d touched her. There was nowhere left to hide.
She shook her head. ‘I c-couldn’t.’
‘Haven’t you learned a thing, Willow? That secrets are corrosive. They eat away at a relationship until the foundations give way and suddenly there’s nothing left.’ She murmured something that he didn’t quite catch. ‘What?’ Hoped he’d misheard. ‘What did you say?’
‘I was ashamed,’ she whispered.
‘Ashamed?’ The sureness, the certainty of rightness in his voice wavered. ‘What on earth have you got to be ashamed about?’
‘I was prepared to throw it all away…’ The sun had blushed her cheeks a brighter pink, but beneath the colour, she was chalk-white. ‘The man I loved, my job on a terrific newspaper, a paper with heart and soul, and all for the cheap gratification of a step up the career ladder on a sleaze sheet that isn’t fit to wrap potato peelings in—’
‘Willow, please—’
‘You warned me—no heart, you said—but I thought I knew better. Well, I know now. I know nothing.’ She dashed away a half-formed tear, refusing to let it slide down her cheek. Self-pity would be the final humiliation. ‘Talk about pride going before a fall…’
‘Not a fall. Anything but a fall. Walking away was the big thing to do, Willow. And I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.’
‘Really?’ She sniffed, tried on a smile for size and decided it fitted. ‘Do you think the Maybridge Weekly Gazette would take me on as a junior? If I promised to make the tea? I could work my way back up and by the time I’m forty they might take me seriously enough to let me loose on the local village news round-up—’
His hand covered her mouth. ‘I take you seriously. I take you very seriously indeed. And I think you could look a lot higher than the Maybridge Weekly Gazette.’
‘Been there, done that. I’m happier down in the foothills—’
‘There’s going to be a vacancy at the Chronicle. Maybe you should go for that.’
‘Apply for my old job?’ She shook her head. ‘You can’t go back. Never go back. Besides, Julie’s been waiting to step into my shoes ever since we announced our engagement.’
‘Has she? What made her think there’d be a vacancy? You had no plans to leave. Not until—’
‘She assumed that marriage would be swiftly followed by maternity.’
‘Oh, right. Well, it would be really unkind to disappoint her.’ She looked up, her eyes for moment alight with hope. Did he mean what she thought he meant? ‘It’ll have to be another job, then.’ Idiot! Why would he think anything of the sort?
It was cruel to tease her, Mike knew. Especially when he’d seen everything he needed to know in that look. The way her face had crumpled when he hadn’t leapt in to fulfil the hope that had lit up her eyes like neon.
‘Of course there is another post vacant at the Chronicle.’ He stroked her heated cheeks with the tips of his fingers. ‘And one of us should have a proper job, don’t you think?’
She ignored that. She wasn’t being drawn into that trap twice. ‘What vacancy?’
‘Dad is still looking for someone to take over from him.’
She stiffened, finally moved from the protection of the wall. ‘Not you!’ she said urgently. ‘You mustn’t