‘I know.’ Despite the fact that she knew what Sophie thought of her, Grace refused to be intimidated. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She and Tom were friends, nothing more. ‘And I don’t know where Tom is. Perhaps he is at the pub. Why don’t you go and find out?’
‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do.’ Sophie’s angry response was out of all proportion to the offence. Clearly something hadn’t suited her and Grace was being made the scapegoat. ‘Anyway, when he does come back, tell him I want to see him. I’ll wait at the house. I’ve still got my key.’
Grace shrugged. ‘Okay.’ But she knew Tom wouldn’t like it. She didn’t like it much herself. The possibility that Sophie might take the opportunity to check out where Grace was sleeping now that she’d left had her hands balling into fists. But there was nothing she could do about it.
‘Right.’
If Sophie had expected an argument, she didn’t get one, and after a brief assessing glance in Lucy’s direction she turned and left the café. The two women saw her cross the yard to the car park and pull open the door of a late-model BMW. Then, following Oliver’s example, she drove out of the yard, turning in the opposite direction from the one he had taken.
‘Bitch,’ said Lucy succinctly, passing Grace on her way to the door to turn the sign to ‘Closed’. ‘That woman is a grade one bitch! I don’t know what Oliver ever saw in her.’
‘Or Tom,’ murmured Grace, but Lucy only grimaced.
‘Tom deserved her,’ she muttered, stomping back to the till. ‘I hope Oliver realises how lucky he’s been.’
Grace didn’t feel qualified to answer her. Sophie’s and Oliver’s divorce had been final long before she came on the scene. She’d heard the gossip, of course. How Tom had had an affair with his brother’s wife. But she’d also heard, from Tom admittedly, that Oliver had neglected Sophie in favour of his work. And no one could deny Sophie’s part in the breakup. Once again, according to Tom, it had been Sophie who had encouraged him, not the other way about.
Grace decided it was not something she wanted to get into a discussion over. Her own position, as a paying guest in Tom’s house, was open to enough speculation as it was. But when she’d come to work at the garden centre, Sophie and Tom had been living together. It had seemed a logical solution to her accommodation problem to accept Tom’s offer of the spare room.
Now, however, things were different. Sophie and Tom had split up and Grace didn’t know how to get out of staying in the house. The trouble was, it was so handy for the centre. On the outskirts of Tayford, not far from his parents’ home.
Mr and Mrs Ferreira had been instrumental in her accepting Tom’s offer in the first place. Grace wondered now if they’d had some intimation that all was not going well with their son and his lady friend—who just happened to be their other son’s ex-wife—and had hoped her presence might act as a calming influence. If so, it hadn’t worked. Sophie had never liked her, and Tom had attempted to compensate for her rudeness.
The upshot was, Sophie had got jealous and had started accusing her of having designs on Tom herself. Grace shook her head as she left Lucy to lock up the café and made her way to the offices that adjoined the main building. She liked Tom. Who wouldn’t? He was easy to get along with. But he’d never given her that hot, melting feeling in the pit of her stomach that she’d experienced when she’d encountered Oliver Ferreira’s dark gaze.
Just for a moment she wondered how she’d feel if she were sharing a house with Oliver. His lean, dark-skinned face and tall athletic body were so different from his brother’s bland good looks. Oliver wasn’t good-looking in the formal sense, but he was very attractive. And sexy, she conceded tensely. No wonder Sophie wanted him back.
And she did want him back, Grace would bet her life on it. There’d been so much pent-up aggression in her tone when she’d told Grace to get lost. Oh, not in so many words, of course, but Grace knew her well enough now to know what she was thinking. Sophie needed a man to lean on, and Tom hadn’t come up to scratch.
She shivered then, wrapping her arms about herself and rubbing the bare flesh below the tight sleeves of her tee shirt. But it wasn’t the cold that was making her antsy. The shiver she’d felt was purely anticipation. Despite what Sophie wanted her to think, she hoped she saw Oliver again.
She wasn’t sure how she felt when she discovered Tom was in his office, working at the computer. He must have known Sophie was on the premises, and deliberately kept out of her way. If so, he’d missed seeing Oliver as well. Or was that deliberate, too?
He looked round with a smile when he saw who it was in the doorway. ‘Hi,’ he said, subjecting her to a far too familiar appraisal. ‘How are things?’
‘Things are okay, I guess,’ said Grace slowly, propping her shoulder against the jamb. ‘Sophie’s at the house. Did you know?’
‘Sophie?’ He tried to sound surprised, but to her ears he failed abysmally. Then, as if realising he couldn’t fool her, his mouth pulled down at the corners. ‘I knew she was here,’ he confessed with a grimace. ‘I suppose she’s still agitating on about her money?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’ Grace refused to get involved in the ongoing saga. ‘Anyway, I just thought I’d warn you. In case you’d just got back.’ She sniffed the air. ‘Have you been drinking? Sophie told Oliver you’d be at the pub, but I defended you.’
‘Oliver!’ Tom looked genuinely taken aback now. ‘Oliver was here?’
‘As you’d know for yourself, if you didn’t spend so much time hiding from your girlfriend,’ retorted Grace with feeling. ‘Anyway, I’m leaving. I’m meeting a friend for a drink and I don’t want to be late.’
Tom frowned. ‘What friend?’ he asked, and she was tempted to tell him to mind his own business. But she didn’t.
‘A friend from the gym,’ she said. She spent a lot of her spare time at the leisure centre in Ponteland. Initially, she’d joined to give Tom and Sophie some time on their own. But lately, she’d been glad of a reason to avoid spending whole evenings alone with Tom. ‘You don’t know her,’ she added, straightening. ‘I’ll get something to eat while I’m out.’
‘Hey.’ Tom got up from his chair. ‘You still haven’t told me what Oliver was doing here. Did he want to see me?’ Then he grimaced impatiently. ‘Of course, he must have done. Why else would he come here?’
‘You tell me.’ Grace would prefer not to discuss Oliver right now. ‘Anyway, Sophie collared him as soon as she saw him.’
‘Sophie?’ Tom scowled now. ‘Goddammit, why didn’t you say so? She would have to turn up here today.’
‘Does it matter?’ Grace didn’t understand his agitation. ‘You said you were seeing him today. I assumed you must have arranged for him to visit.’
‘Well, I didn’t. I went to his office this afternoon, as a matter of fact.’ Tom glanced at his watch now, and Grace decided it was time to beat a tactical retreat.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she said, deciding she would go to the cinema after her date with Cindy. The last thing she wanted was for Tom to have another row with Sophie and then expect her to provide a shoulder to cry on. ‘Don’t wait up.’
Tom swore. ‘Do you have to meet this woman tonight?’ he demanded irritably. ‘After the day I’ve had, I could do without an undiluted diet of Sophie’s complaints. Come on, Grace, you know what she’s like. This will be another attempt to get her money. And I can’t stand knowing she can sink this business if she chooses.’
Grace sighed. ‘Surely things aren’t that bad?’
‘They’re that bad,’ Tom insisted. ‘I wish I’d never encouraged her to invest in the first place.’
‘But you did.’ Grace