The Unexpected Consequences of Love (26 page)

Summer days didn't get hotter than this. Well, maybe they did, but not here in Cornwall. On the crowded beach, Sophie was listening to an overexcited Tula and doing her best to conceal her own emotions behind her sunglasses.

Basically her own emotions were in turmoil. Hearing about Go Destry's arrival in St. Carys and the offer they'd made Josh had given her quite a jolt. She now knew how she felt about him; the feelings were too strong to ignore. But acting upon them was something else entirely; breaking her own rules and getting properly involved…well, she still couldn't allow it to happen.

Which meant that Josh leaving St. Carys would, in theory, be an excellent scenario. With him safely out of harm's way, she would no longer have to face the temptation of seeing and interacting with him on a regular basis. Which would make life a whole lot easier.

Then again, the idea of
not
seeing him filled her with panic. Just knowing that he was around made her feel better. He was like a drug she wasn't sure she could live without. Which in turn obviously meant it would be for the best if he
were
to move back to California.

Oh
God
.

“Honestly, they're hilarious; it's so weird having them staying here in the hotel.” Tula was far more entertained by the arrival of Go Destry. “You'd think they'd have breakfast in their rooms, but they didn't; they came down and sat out on the terrace. Everyone was staring and taking photos of them!”

“Fancy that.” Sophie's mind was still on Josh.

“And they've hired a couple bodyguards. You know, to keep the fans under control.”

“So what do you think's going to happen?” Sophie meant did Josh seem likely to accept their offer and head back to the States.

“Well, I lent them the hotel's badminton set. Cal said they're going to be coming down here as soon as the girls have finished their reiki healing.”

“What do they need reiki healing for?”

“Jet lag.”

Jet
lag. Of course.
There was a smudge of sunscreen on Sophie's sunglasses. She took them off and began cleaning them with a corner of her beach towel. The next moment, glancing up, she saw someone looking at her.

It only took a moment to place the girl. Her name was Alice, and she was the slightly overweight teenager who had been so eager to pose for those modeling-type photos at Hannah and Owen's wedding in Launceston the other week.

“Oh, hello!” Sophie waved up at her.

“Hi.” Alice had just paid a visit to the café and was holding three drinks cans.

“Did you see the photos I took of you? I sent them to Hannah and asked her to pass them on.”

“Yeah, thanks, I did. They were nice.” She hesitated, looking a bit awkward, as if wondering whether to say something else. “Can I ask you a question?”

Bless her, such a sweet girl. “Of course you can.”

“Do you really think I could be a professional model?” Alice's cheeks had turned pink. “I mean, you can be honest.”

Oh. That question.
Sophie said carefully, “Well, the trouble with models is they're supposed to be tall.”

“And pretty,” said Alice. “And thin.”

Okay, may as well cut to the chase. Sophie said gently, “What happened?”

“Well, you were right. It wasn't a proper model agency. Their phone number stopped working and the website's not there anymore.” She puffed out her cheeks. “I didn't know people did things like that, but it turns out they do.”

“Oh dear, poor you. And what a rotten way to find out.”

“I know. My nan and granddad said it didn't matter about the money. But I just felt so bad for them. And so
stupid
.” Having decided to confide in her, Alice was evidently now finding it hard to stop. “I can't believe I really thought I'd been spotted by a talent scout from a real agency. My friends said the same thing,” she went on. “Turns out they'd been laughing their heads off behind my back because they're really beautiful and like they said, why would someone like me ever get chosen to be a model when I'm not nearly as pretty as them?”

Tula, who'd been listening, snorted and said, “Charming!”

“Well, they don't sound like very good friends to me,” said Sophie. “I'd think they were the kind you could probably do without.”

Alice was flushing again. “They don't mean it. It's just the way they are.”

“Honestly?” Tula's dark eyes glittered with disdain. “They sound like complete bitches.”

Alice shrugged helplessly. “We're all in the same class at school, though. There isn't really anyone else to be friends with.” As she said it, she glanced down toward the water and Sophie realized that these were the friends she'd come here with today. Two girls in multicolored micro bikinis were emerging from the sea, peering around in search of someone.

And yes, they were skinnier and prettier than Alice.

“I'd better get back to them. They'll be wanting their drinks.” Alice indicated the cans she'd just bought from the café. “Thanks anyway.”

Sophie longed to reassure her. “Listen. If you ask me, you're a much nicer person than they are.”

Alice looked anxious. “You won't say anything to them, will you? Promise?”

Sophie shook her head. “Don't worry, of course we won't. It was good to see you again.” She smiled up at the teenager in her crumpled pink T-shirt and too-tight denim shorts. “Bye, Alice. Have a nice day.”

***

“Here they come,” announced Tula forty minutes later. Sitting up like a meerkat, she waved excitedly at the little group making their way down the steps to the beach.

Sophie twisted around to watch them: three famous young Americans and their minders, all hyperaware of the attention they were garnering with their arrival.

Would they end up taking Josh away from here? From
her
? Who knew? They'd already attempted to sweeten the deal with a stretch limo; what was to stop them making an even more extravagant offer he couldn't refuse?

“Hey, there she is!” Spotting Tula, Cal changed course and headed over toward them. He was lithe, tanned, and swaggery, wearing a white cowboy hat, mirrored shades, and electric-yellow board shorts.

As you do.

“Hi.” Tula was beaming, thrilled to have been singled out for attention. “Did you bring the badminton stuff down with you?”

“Sure did.” He swung an imaginary racket. “I've never played this game before. What are the feathery things called again? Shuttledicks?”

“I told you what they were called.” Tula gave him a look.

“You did.” He broke into a grin. “And you said it's played like tennis, either two players or four players.”

“That's right.”

“But there's three of us. Me and the girls. So we're gonna need someone else to make up the numbers.”

Practically everyone on the beach was watching them now. Including, thirty meters away, Alice and her so-called friends from school. Sophie heard Tula say, “Well, if you're desperate…” And then she heard Cal say, “You wanna play? Cool, let's do it.”

“Hang on.” Sophie reached for Tula's wrist before she could scramble to her feet. “Cal, can I ask you something?”

He looked dubious. “What?”

Sophie decided to take the plunge; it was a long shot, but wouldn't it be amazing if it came off? “You could do something that would be so brilliant. Don't look now, but there's a girl over to your right, and if you asked her to play badminton, you'd make her year. More than a year. You'd make her whole life.” She gave Tula's wrist a squeeze. “Wouldn't he?”

Tula was looking like a toddler having her Christmas presents snatched away.

“Please.” Sophie looked at her.

“Which girl?” said Cal.

“Teenager. Pink T-shirt, denim shorts, sitting on a green beach towel. Be discreet,” said Sophie.

Cal turned and slowly scanned the entire beach, as if admiring the view. Turning back, he murmured, “Okay, I see her. Couldn't I ask one of her hot friends instead?”

“No, you couldn't.” How had she guessed he'd say this? Sophie shook her head.

“But the others are way prettier.”

“That's the whole point; it's what they'd expect you to do. Anything good that happens, they just take it for granted.” She was doing her best to make him understand. “But if you ask the one in the pink T-shirt, she'll feel better about herself for the next fifty years.”

Cal removed his mirrored shades and surveyed her speculatively through narrowed eyes.

“Did Josh ask you to do this? Is it some kind of secret test, to see if I pass?”

Sophie looked at Tula. Tula looked back at her. Sophie returned her attention to Cal and said, “No.”

She was saying no, but making it sound as if the answer was actually yes.

Cal assimilated this information for a couple seconds. Finally he said, “Okay. Leave it with me.”

“Be subtle,” said Tula.

Together they watched him turn and make his way back to join Bonnie and Jem.

“Thanks,” Sophie murmured.

“'S okay. Poor kid. I bet she feels like I always did around Imi's friends. But worse.”

“That's what I thought.”

They watched as the minders set up the badminton net. To give Cal his due, he did a good job of casually looking around before wandering over to Alice and her companions. After chatting to them for a couple minutes, he said something to Alice that caused the other two girls to stiffen in disbelief.

“Oh yes,” Tula whispered triumphantly. “Bingo.”

And while Alice finished double-checking that it wasn't a joke and he really did mean her, the expressions on her friends' faces said it all. Reaching out a tanned arm, Cal helped her to her feet. Then he led her over to join his fellow band members, who greeted her with cheery enthusiasm and handed her the fourth badminton racket.

“I feel like a proud mum,” Sophie said twenty minutes later. Alice was acquitting herself surprisingly well on the makeshift badminton court. She was also visibly having the time of her life, while a short distance away her friends sat with their cans of drink, hunched over, bristling with jealousy, and pretending not to watch.

When the game was over, Alice said something to Cal and he beckoned her friends over to join them. They posed for photos together, using their cell phones, and chatted for a minute or two before the members of Go Destry each gave Alice a hug and a kiss, then left the beach.

Half an hour later, Alice paused beside Sophie and Tula on her way to the café again. Without preamble she said, “Did you make him do it?”

“We didn't
make
him do it.” Sophie shrugged. “Just wondered if he'd like to.”

Alice beamed. “That's so nice of you. Thanks. This has been the best day of my life.”

Heavy traffic on the M5 meant it had taken three hours to reach Bristol. Josh had spent the entire journey thinking about Sophie and wondering what he was going to say when he came face-to-face with her ex-husband.

Assuming that Theo Pargeter
was
her ex-husband. For all he knew, they could still be married.

Anyway, almost there. Yesterday's planned visit had been canceled by the arrival of Bonnie, Jem, and Cal. Which had been frustrating at the time, but never mind. That was then, this was now.

Less than a kilometer to go. In the glove compartment, Josh's phone beeped with a message. He carried on down the road, then turned left at the mini roundabout.

And there it was, the entrance to the business, looking just as it had on the website. Rather than drive in through the gates, he parked outside and climbed out of the car. Took a few deep breaths. What if Theo refused to talk to him when he learned why he was here?

Once through the gates, he saw that there was a small house to the left, the shop to the right. There were no cars in the parking area and the high fence surrounding the outdoor garden was padlocked shut.

The shop wasn't open either. A handwritten note taped to the door announced:

Sorry, due to unforeseen circumstances we are closed today. Open again as usual tomorrow. Apologies for any inconvenience caused. T. P.

Inconvenience? Any inconvenience caused? Why ever would he think he might be causing any inconvenience?

Shit.

Just to be sure, Josh crossed the deserted parking area to the house and rang the doorbell. No reply.

If he'd come yesterday, Theo Pargeter would have been here. But he hadn't; he'd come today instead.

Oh well, nothing to be done about it. Hopefully the M5 would be clearer on the way home.

Back in the car, his phone beeped plaintively again like an abandoned baby bird. Josh leaned across, took it out of the glove compartment, and saw that Cal had sent him an email. There was a photo attached. He opened it and stared at the screen. For some utterly bizarre reason, Cal had chosen to send him a photo of himself on the beach with an arm draped casually around the shoulders of a short, plump teenager whose pink, beaming face exactly matched her too-tight T-shirt.

Cal had written:
See? And she wasn't even pretty!

Josh shook his head. God only knew what he meant by that. He'd better not have slept with her and be boasting about it.

Not that Cal's behavior was his concern anymore. Go Destry might have given him forty-eight hours to come to a decision, but he had no intention of taking them back. Putting the band out of his mind, he switched from emails to the calendar app on his phone. So many meetings, so much on; who knew when he'd be able to get up here to Bristol again?

***

Well, this was turning into a pretty weird evening. When Tula had finished her shift, she hadn't expected to be propositioned by Marguerite Marshall and brought here to Moor Court.

“I asked Dot. She says you're a hard worker, good with people, conscientious.”

“Yes.” Tula nodded cautiously; was she about to be headhunted? And just how much of a nerve did Marguerite have, asking Dot to recommend someone before attempting to steal her away from the hotel?

“Not full-time,” said Marguerite, answering that unspoken question. “As and when. If people are coming here for meetings, small parties, whatever. I need someone to take their coats, organize the drinks, pass around canapés, that kind of thing. And be charming to the guests, of course. Good impressions are
so
important. Dot tells me your shifts are pretty flexible, so do you think you'd be interested? Because if you aren't, I'll ask someone else. Twelve pounds an hour,” she added.

“Brilliant. Definitely interested.” Tula nodded vigorously. “Extra money's always good. I'd love to do it.”

“Excellent.” Marguerite gave a nod of satisfaction and said, “Now, let's have a drink to celebrate.”

That had been over an hour ago, and she was still here. Marguerite had been asking all sorts of questions about her life, from upbringing to school days, from the different jobs she'd done to the various boyfriends she'd won and lost over the years.

“Can I ask you something?” said Tula. “Am I being interrogated?”

Marguerite smiled slightly. “Sorry, is that what I'm doing? We writers are nosy people. We like to know everything.”

Tula brightened. “Are you going to put me in a book?”

“I very much doubt it. You're not interesting enough.”

“Thanks.”

“Just being honest. The female characters I write about are strong. They always get exactly what they want.”

“I've just got what I wanted.” Tula grinned. “Another job.”

“Touché.” Amused, Marguerite topped up their glasses. “Come on then, tell me some more about you.”

***

Over the limit herself, Marguerite had called Riley and asked him to drive Tula back to the hotel. When he returned, she said, “That was quick.”

“Dropped her off, drove straight back.” Riley shrugged. “Doesn't take long.”

“I thought you might have spun it out a bit, laid on the charm. Like you usually do.”

“I've tried. It didn't work. You know that.”

He'd told her, but he still hadn't told her why. Marguerite watched him examine a fraying hole in the sleeve of his favorite faded blue sweatshirt. “I like her very much; she's a lovely girl. I'm sure you could win her over, you know.” Encouragingly she added, “And we'll be seeing more of her now she's going to be helping me out here.”

There was a troubled look in his eyes. “So it's all part of your grand plan, is it? Maybe you could go one step further and pay her to be my girlfriend.”

“Oh, darling, I'm just trying to help.” The nicer Tula had turned out to be, the guiltier Marguerite had felt. Riley was normally so sunny-natured; she'd never seen him like this before.

“Well, you can't help.” He shrugged. “It isn't going to happen.”

“And it's all my fault.”

“What?” His gaze narrowed.

“I know why she won't take you seriously. I asked her and she told me.”

“Oh. Right.” He exhaled. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does, though.” She couldn't bear to see him hiding his feelings. “I can see what it's doing to you, how important this girl is.”

“Hey, don't worry. I'm me. I'll find someone else.”

Bravado. Did he think she was stupid? Marguerite took a deep breath and said, “If you want, you can tell her.”

Riley froze for a moment. Then he slowly shook his head. “No. We can't do that.”

“But if she matters that much to you…”

“Tula can't keep secrets. She told me so herself. She said she hates it, it's too stressful, and sooner or later things end up accidentally slipping out.”

“Oh,” said Marguerite.

“But thanks for offering.” He gave her a crooked smile.

“Oh, darling. I do love you. So much.”

“I know. I love you too. Don't worry about it.” As he headed for the office to start work, he added, “Really, I'll be fine.”

Marguerite watched him go with a heavy, guilty heart. If she hadn't known him so well, she might even have believed him.