(2012) Evie Undercover (15 page)

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Authors: Liz Harris

Tags: #mystery

BOOK: (2012) Evie Undercover
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She
beamed at him. She
certainly
was
!

 

Chapter Ten

 

A gal’s gotta do what a gal’s gotta do

 

Evie leaned back in her seat and stared up at the awning of leaves above her. The hot sun shone through tiny gaps between the leaves
and
sp
rinkl
ed
the
terrace
with
a shower
of gold
.
She
felt blissfully relaxed.

S
igh
ing with
pleasure
,
she
g
lanc
ed
across the table
at Tom
. He was
trying to brush away a fly.
He looked up
and
met her eyes.
H
e
sat back in his seat
, abandoning his battle with the fly,
and smiled at her
.

God, he was absolutely fabulous
.

T
he cornflower blue of his shirt brought out the
deep blue
of his eyes and
brilliantly
set off
his
light
tan.
He really
was
something.

Not that
his dishy appearance and
cool
sense of fun
would
get in the way of
what she had to do
, she thought quickly. I
t wouldn’t

she’
d
no choice but
to get her story

but it was lovely to
let herself
imagine
for a m
oment
that she
was
in Italy solely
as Evie
Shaw
,
secretary and interpreter. J
ust that and no more – no digging into his past life; no pretending to be what she wasn’t; above all, no editor behind her.

‘We’ll sock it to him when it hurts the most,’ her editor had thundered down the phone on the night before she left for Umbria. ‘The minute that stuck-up bastard stands up in court to start on some poor sucker, our readers are gonna be learning the truth about
Mr
Squeaky Clean. Squeaky Clean, my arse! You’ve got the two weeks
you’re
back in London to flesh out the details, Evie – and believe me, I want flesh and lots of it

and then you send me the low-down on his fucking affair, and you make sure it’s fucking good.’

On the Monday that her story came out

the day that his next big libel case
was beginning

she’d be back in the offices of
Pure Dirt
. It was just as well
that she would be
. S
he co
uldn’t begin to imagine what he woul
d say about
her role in the whole thing. W
ell, she could, but she
’d no intention of going there; it would hurt too much.

She took a deep breath
. S
he was going to have to grow a thick
er
skin if she wanted to keep
he
r
job at
Pure Dirt
long enough
to be able to jump from it
into a mainstream magazine.
Perhaps it would help if she ke
p
t
on telling herself that if it hadn’t been for
Pure Dirt
, she wouldn’t have met Tom.

‘I
was hungrier
than I thought I was
,’ she said. ‘That penne with vodka was
yummy
.’

‘It’s a specialty of Umbria. Eduardo introduced me to it on one of my early visits. I’m glad you liked it. How about some pudding now?’

‘I really couldn’t, thanks. I’ve had more than enough. What with the hot sun and all that food, I feel just about ready for bed as it is.’

‘Tut, tut, Evie. S
exual invitations shouldn’t fall upon the ears of someone
at risk of
develop
ing
monastic aspirations.’

Yay! He was as keen as she was to get back to the banter they’d
had earlier
in his bedroom. This was a very promising path, but she’d better decide
quickly
on where she wanted it to end

get
ting
his confession
was her goal, not
get
ting
into his bed.

She straightened up in her chair
.

‘I
’ll be more careful in future
,’ she said, a
playful, demure lilt to her voice. ‘
I can assure you that I would
n’t want to make you blush
, Tom.’

‘My sentiments entirely.’

Their eyes met and they smiled at each other in amusement. Tom moved first. He picked up the bottle of wine and re-filled their glasses. ‘What about a coffee
, then
?’

‘That sounds good. Thank you.’

‘I’ll have one too.’
He caught the waiter’s eye and beckoned him over.


Due caffè, per piacere
,’
she told the waiter.

He returned a few minutes later with their coffees and
a small dish of
amoretti
. She poured some milk into her coffee and took
one
from the dish. She unwrapped the biscuit, and popped it into her mouth. ‘Oh, they’re
amoretti morbidi
.’

‘How can a biscuit be morbid?’


Morbido
means soft. I prefer them hard, though.’

Ohmigod, did she really say that!

A wave of heat spread over her chest and up to her neck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. She must
have gone
scarlet. What must she look like
?
Her frantic gaze fell on her glass of ice-
cold
water. S
alvation! She hastily
wrapped
her hands hard around the cold glass
,
then
pressed them
against
her flushed cheeks.

Her hands
still
against her
face
, she glanced up and met Tom’s eyes. He was grinning broadly.


I, too, feel somewhat warm,

he
said.
Still smiling, he look
ed around the restaurant
. ‘In fact, it’s the perfect afternoon for doing nothing.
That was a good idea
to leave Montefalco till this evening.’

She felt the red fading and sat heavily back in her chair in relief.

‘Doing nothing sounds pretty OK to me, too. Doing nothing the Mediterranean way would be
to
sit on the
loggia
and star
e
ahead. We could fold up our towels, sit on them
,
lean back against the wall and let the mountain breeze waft over us.
We might
even drop off for a bit. Or maybe we could sit on the edge of the pool
, like you suggested
. Then later on, when we felt more energetic, we could finish the room plans and do the Montefalco thing. What do you think?’

‘I think it sounds a really good idea.’

‘Which bit of it sounds a really good idea?’

‘The bit you didn’t mention.’

             

‘I’m getting us some water to drink,’ Tom called from inside the kitchen. ‘And I’ll bring out one of the bottles of wine we picked up.’

‘Do you need a hand?’ Evie asked, turning round as she heard Tom coming out of the kitchen.
He was
walking
towards her, a thick piece of cardboard with two plastic glasses on it in one hand
,
and a bottle of wine in the other. ‘You look pretty laden.’

‘I’m fine, thanks. Well, perhaps you’d better take the wine

I wouldn’t want to drop it.’

She jumped up and took the
bottle from him
. H
e carefully set the
makeshift
cardboard tray down in the space between the two towels that
she’d spread out on the grass, and
sat
down on one of the towels. S
he sat down on the other
,
picked up one of the plastic glasses of water and stared
thoughtfully
down the slope at the pool.

Their conversation at the restaurant had sounded as if it might lead to great things, whatever th
ose great things proved to be
, b
ut the drive back to the house had broken the mood, and they
were
back to thei
r normal friendly relationship.
She couldn’t see how to get th
e
frisson
back
that
they’d
had
at the end of their lunch
, but she’d have to come up with something, and before long
.

She’d only got one and a half days left in which to find out about him and Zizi, and much of that time was going to be spent with two other people. This was
the
last afternoon
that she’d be
alone with him
in Italy, and s
omehow or other, she was going to have to get him talking.

I
f only she’d never got into such a shitty situation
.

If only she’d been offered a job on an ordinary magazine, no matter how lowly the job. If only she’d thought for a moment about what
she’d have to do if she
work
ed
for
Pure Dirt
. If only she’d never put herself in the position of finding herself in the hot sun, sitting next to a really attractive
,
fun guy, unable to think of anything else but how to worm out of him something he’d rather not tell her
,
and
that
she’d rather not hear.

Sh
e was caught in an unholy mess.

She absolutely didn’t want to do the job that she’d been sent to do in Italy, but she was going to have to do it. Her editor was the sort of man who carried out the threats he made, and he’d see her blacklisted from every magazine if she jacked in the job at that stage.

No way could she let that happen.

She had a stark choice

kissing goodbye
to the dream she’d had since she was ten years old
or getting Tom to talk. The Tom option
was
the only possible choice for her, and she
had
to take it, no matter how much she didn’t want to. Everyone had to follow their dream, and that was that.

‘A penny for them,
or a euro, if you prefer. You look miles away.’

‘I was just thinking how tempting the water looks.’ She gave an audible sigh. ‘I wished I was putting me into the water, instead of putting water into me. It’s such a shame that we can’t go in the pool.’

‘Which reminds me, I need to ask Eduardo about the man who’s going to be looking after the pool and garden. I know he’s found someone – he sai
d so the last time I was here

and t
he original plan was
for me to
meet
him
this week, but he hasn’t said anything about it since we got here so I probably need to remind him. I’ll certainly want to
be able to
swim when I come back in August.’

‘I don’t blame you. I
f it’s this hot now, it’ll be really hot then. And
as you said,
your parents
will be here, too.

‘That’s the plan. If the case finishes when it’s scheduled to finish, I’ll have a couple of weeks here before they join me. But these things are always unpredictable, so it’s not worth counting any chickens yet. While we’re on the subject, though, it might be an idea if you rang Eduardo now – perhaps he can set up a meeting for this evening
,
or for early tomorrow evening
when we’re
back from Perugia. Here, take my phone.’

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