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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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BOOK: City Woman
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‘Tell him I’ve been slightly delayed. Offer him coffee. Do what you usually do when this happens.’ He led the way towards his office and closed the door firmly behind himself
and Devlin.

Just what the hell was
she
doing here, Dianne wondered furiously, as she sat at her computer and clattered the keys with much more force than was necessary. God,
she’d nearly died when she had walked out to reception and seen the blonde bombshell in all her glory. And she had been looking glorious too, blast her, in her exquisitely tailored taupe suit
and whiter than white camisole that showed off her tan. And the hair. The bob really suited her: it made her look sophisticated and vulnerable at the same time, if that were possible.

‘Oh shit!’ A thought struck her. Devlin would no doubt mention that she had called and left a message. Now she’d really be up the creek. Luke would be raging. Just when she
thought she was getting somewhere with him, too. He had been really pleased that she had collected him at the airport. He had taken her for a meal at Scott’s in Mayfair and the lobster bisque
had been superb. She had asked him all about his trip and shown great enthusiasm when he’d told her all about the deal he’d made. He’d even bought her a present, a beautiful,
carved jewellery box, and told her he really appreciated how hard she worked for him. Dianne had gone to bed that night on such a high. Even her discovery on coming into work that morning that he
had also brought Sally back a present hadn’t affected her great good humour. Everything had been going swimmingly until that Devlin had appeared, batting her big blue-green eyes and making
Dianne look a fool.

What was going on in that office? She would give anything to know.

‘Thank you for seeing me,’ Devlin said, feeling more than a little awkward.

‘Don’t be daft, Devlin. Of course I’d always see you!’ Luke expostulated.

‘Well, I wasn’t too sure,’ Devlin retorted, ‘especially when you didn’t return my calls.’

‘What calls? I didn’t know you’d called.’ Luke’s brows drew down in a frown.

‘Well I did; and I called you at home too. When I didn’t hear from you and then when my solicitor told me about the letter from your solicitors, I figured that was the end of us . .
.’ Her voice trailed off.

‘If I remember correctly, that didn’t seem to worry you too much the last time we met,’ he said dryly.

‘Ah, Luke, don’t be a pig! You told me you never wanted to see me again. Remember? Maybe you really meant it.’ She turned to walk away, but Luke caught her by the arm and
turned her back to face him.

‘I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. You’re right: I
am
being a pig. And I’m sorry about the other day at the airport. I don’t want to be the one to end our
partnership.’ His amber eyes stared down into hers.

‘I don’t either,’ she whispered. ‘I need you as my friend.’

‘Ah, Devlin, I’ll always be your friend,’ Luke sighed, putting his arms around her. It was as if a huge burden had evaporated and she rested her head on his shoulder, hugging
him back tightly.

‘I’d better call the solicitors and tell them we’ve changed our minds,’ he said ruefully. ‘We’re like two kids. You’d better tell me all about this
Belfast deal we’re getting into.’

‘Luke, you’ll love it.’ Devlin’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. ‘I think we could be on to a winner.’ A buzz on the intercom interrupted them. It was
Dianne.

‘Kenneth Major is on the line for you.’

‘Tell him I’ll call him back – and hold all my calls please,’ Luke said briskly.

‘Certainly,’ came the frosty response.

Devlin smiled ruefully. ‘We’re upsetting your PA’s carefully planned schedule. I know Liz, my secretary, goes mad when I upset her plans.’

‘If I’d known you were coming I’d have rescheduled today’s meetings,’ Luke said regretfully. ‘What time’s your flight home?’

‘I haven’t booked one. I wasn’t sure what time I’d get to see you; so I was just going to go back to the airport and hang around for a stand-by.’

‘Look, why don’t I try and get as much done here as I can? You take the keys of the apartment and go and freshen up. Or go shopping or whatever . . . and we’ll go out to
dinner. I’ll get Dianne to book you a flight for tomorrow.’

‘Liz will go spare,’ Devlin laughed. But the idea was very appealing.

‘Be a devil! I’ll risk Dianne’s wrath if you risk Liz’s.’

‘You’re on,’ Devlin said, smiling at him.

‘I’m really glad you came, Devlin.’ Luke’s eyes were warm.

‘So am I.’

Luke bent his head and kissed her very lightly on the lips. It was like the fleeting touch of butterfly’s wings.

‘Go and have a lovely day to yourself and I’ll try and get home by four.’ He took a bunch of keys out of his pocket and slipped one off the ring.

‘The key to the castle. I’ll ring Raji the doorman and tell him to expect you. OK?’

‘OK,’ Devlin agreed.

He walked out to the reception area with his arm around her shoulder, quite unaware that Dianne was glowering at them both.

‘See you later.’ He pressed the lift button. The last thing she saw was his face smiling in at her, and then she was on her way down to the ground floor, her heart as light as a
feather.

A huge fork of lightning streaked across the London sky and the heavens opened. By the time she had crossed from one side of Knightsbridge to the other Devlin was drenched.
Laden down with parcels, she hailed a taxi, gave Luke’s address and sank gratefully into the back seat. It had turned out a horrible day, muggy and thundery. Maybe after the storm the air
would freshen up a bit.

She’d had a wonderful few hours browsing and shopping. There was nothing like a bit of a spree for lifting the spirits, she reckoned, especially since she hadn’t been on one for
ages. She had bought herself a gorgeous kimono. It was black with splashes of pale pink and turquoise, and the sleeves and neck were edged in pink. She’d also got the pale pink nightdress
that went with it. She’d need it for tonight, she assured herself, as she hadn’t come prepared to stay over. She’d treated herself to some silk and lace underwear while she was
there. But the silk dressing-gown was exquisite, so feminine. It had just caught her eyes in the lingerie department of Harrods. Well, a girl was entitled to treat herself now and again, and it was
certainly different from the terry-towelling robes she normally wore.

While she was in Harrods, after she’d had coffee and florentines, she’d gone to the opulent foodhall and bought some provisions. She planned to cook dinner for them tonight. It was
cosier than going out. She knew Luke loved home-cooking. Like her, he had to eat out so often that it was no longer a treat. Whenever she cooked a meal for him at home, he relished it. She’d
cook him a steak-and-kidney pie. His favourite.

She glanced at her watch. Two-thirty. Luke would be home soon. She was dying to hear what he thought of the Belfast project. She was so glad their tiff was over. It had made her downright
miserable.

‘You got wet already, Madam.’ Raji, the doorman, held an umbrella for her as she alighted from the taxi.

‘I sure did, Raji. That was some downpour.’ Devlin’s clothes clung damply to her and she was looking forward so much to getting out of them and having a shower.

‘Mr Reilly left a message to say he’ll be later than he thought; he sends his apologies.’

‘No problem, Raji,’ Devlin said cheerfully. It would give her a chance to get organized.

An hour later she was a different woman. Dressed in a borrowed shirt of Luke’s, she padded barefoot around his kitchen, making preparations for the meal she was going to cook. She cut the
steak in cubes, sliced the kidneys and chopped an onion and parsley finely, adding a few mushrooms because Luke liked the flavour, and whistling all the while. She had cheated and bought ready-made
pastry because pastry-making was not her forte. But the ready-to-roll stuff was just as tasty. She had parboiled the potatoes to make another favourite of his, roasties.

In the distance, over towards Westminster, she could still hear the low rumble of thunder. It had stopped raining but it was still very overcast. Stepping out on to the balcony she inhaled the
moist oppressive air. It really had turned into a horrible day and she was glad she wasn’t still traipsing around the shops. Still, she could not help admiring the panoramic view of London
and the Thames that Luke’s huge balcony afforded. His penthouse was very expensive but he had worked very hard for everything he had and in her opinion he deserved the luxury.

She hoped he wouldn’t mind that she had changed their arrangements about eating out. Anyway she had nothing to wear now: Raji had sent her clothes to the dry cleaners. The phone rang and
she hurried back inside to answer it. It was Dianne.

‘Mr Reilly asked me to phone: he’s tied up at a meeting and it will probably be after five before he gets away.’

‘Tell him not to worry, Dianne,’ Devlin said cheerfully. ‘I’m in no hurry now that I’m staying over. Did you organize a flight for me for tomorrow?’

‘Mr Reilly has all the details,’ Dianne said in her snooty accent.

‘Great. Thanks. Cheerio.’ Devlin hung up and thought how lucky she was that as well as being efficient, Liz, her secretary, was very pleasant, and had a terrific phone manner.

She decided she would set the pine table in the kitchen rather than having the whole works in the dining-room. Anyway, she wasn’t exactly dressed for a formal dinner! She grinned to
herself at the thought. Luke’s shirt was enormous on her and the shoulders came down nearly to her elbows. She had tied one of his ties around her waist to keep the shirt ends from flapping
when she was cooking. A more glamorous specimen it would be hard to find! But she didn’t mind with Luke. With him she could always be herself. He had seen her at her worst, when she had been
so low that she wondered if life was worth living. It had been Luke who had got her going again and he was the one person in the world that she never felt she had to impress. He accepted her for
who and what she was. Warts and all.

After she had set the table, she braised the steak and kidney and left it simmering slowly, made herself a cup of coffee and went into the lounge. Flicking through Luke’s compact disc
collection, she chose a Grieg compilation and sat back to let the evocative notes wash over her. She suddenly felt weary. She had been up at the crack of dawn to get to the airport and besides she
hadn’t been sleeping very well over the previous few days through worry about the situation with Luke. It was bliss just to sit relaxed, listening to the beautiful music.

That was how Luke found her, curled up in a corner of the sofa in his shirt and tie, fast asleep. He eyed her with some amusement and then followed his nose into the kitchen,
inhaling the delicious aroma of the simmering steak and kidney.

‘Hmmmm!’ Luke’s eyes brightened. Trust Devlin: this was a much better idea than going out to dinner. To tell the truth he was feeling pretty bushed himself. That trip to
Holland had been a killer and he’d found himself tossing and turning a lot at night ever since his row with Devlin. Well, at least that was over, he thought with satisfaction, as he turned
off the heat under the pan.

Twenty minutes later, he’d showered and shaved and changed out of his suit into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He had just made fresh coffee, when Devlin walked into the kitchen rubbing
her eyes.

‘Hi,’ she said, giving him an affectionate hug. ‘I meant to have your dinner on the table. I just fell asleep. Sorry about that.’ She yawned.

‘Only that it’s steak-and-kidney pie you’d be sacked,’ said Luke with a broad grin. ‘Do you want me to do anything to help?’

‘Yes: butter the brown bread for the smoked salmon. I’ll just pop the pie into the oven. It won’t take the pastry long to cook.’ She busied herself with the pastry
she’d already rolled out. She glazed the top with egg yolk, moved the roast potatoes, which were crisping nicely, down to the lower shelf and placed the pie dish on the top shelf of the oven.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind not going out? I thought this would be more homely and besides, I’ve loads to tell you.’ Devlin sat up at the breakfast counter beside him and
took a cup of coffee. ‘Luke, I phoned my mother and invited her to lunch.’

‘Devlin, that’s great news. You won’t regret it, believe me.’ Luke gave her a comforting hug.

‘I hope not,’ Devlin sighed. ‘I hope we’ll be able to talk and that things won’t be too awkward.’

‘I’d say your dad’s pleased.’

‘Yes, he’s really chuffed about it.’

‘Don’t worry; everything will be fine,’ Luke assured her.

‘Do you want to hear about Belfast?’

‘Well, I can see you’re bursting to tell me. Just don’t get too excited. Don’t you think we should wait until Galway’s up and running first?’

‘Oh, but Luke, wait until you meet Arthur. He’s great! He’s done a thorough business plan, including one of the best strategic marketing plans I’ve seen,’ she
declared. ‘He’s commissioned a survey in the catchment area to check our target market and find out about the disposable income of females in the twenty to mid-forty range . .
.’

‘What about cash flow? Have you sourced the finances that will be required? What about the fitting-out costs? Are you considering buying or renting? What about the financial institutions?
Will the banks want personal guarantees? Are the interest rates going to be fixed or variable?’ Luke, she could see, was enjoying himself. ‘Have you considered insurance cover? What
would our break-even point be?’ Luke shot the questions at her like bullets from a machine-gun.

‘Of course I’ve considered all the factors – you’re not dealing with an amateur here,’ Devlin replied calmly. She grinned at him. ‘I was taught by the best.
So you just sit there and I’ll get the figures that Kieran prepared for me; you’ll soon see whether Belfast is a good idea or not. Don’t forget,’ she added, as she slipped
off the stool to get her briefcase, ‘the complex will be grant-aided as well.’ Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, mister, she thought smugly, as she fetched the papers. The business
plan was A1 – she knew it. Devlin had learned a lot when City Girl was being planned, especially from Luke and her father. She had expansion in mind, and Belfast was her target.

BOOK: City Woman
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