The thought warmed her and encouraged her to get out of bed and get on with her life.
Helen took her tea out to the garden and replied to the numerous messages Tom and Emma had sent asking how she was. At the end of this week, they’d be leaving for their holiday in Cornwall, visiting Emma’s parents, and Helen didn’t want them to worry about her. She texted them back, telling them she was doing okay.
Even if her stomach tightened every time she looked at the section of her garden that would soon be blown apart.
Her world, held in a fragile bubble on the verge of bursting, and knowing that it would soon change forever simply … crippled her.
Think, Helen, think.
Yesterday, she’d revisited the software tools she’d written for Jaxon, tweaking the code so that she could possibly sell it somewhere, somehow. But these tools were used for penetrating—hacking into—computer systems, and though they weren’t illegal to produce, they could be used harmfully by the wrong people. People like Jaxon.
Considering that she could still be on the police radar, Helen had to tread carefully. She could only legally use her software to try and penetrate systems for companies that were openly inviting hackers to find security loopholes and weaknesses. She could win the bounties they offered. She could even set up that cybersecurity business she’d wanted to do with Jaxon—but this time, all on her own.
Helen could do lots of things, but these weren’t goals that could be achieved overnight. Setting up her own company, winning clients—that all took time, and she had,what? Four, maybe five months left before the new owners evicted her?
Logging on quickly to her emails, Helen sent one to Mr. Roberts, asking—for the millionth time—if her lease could be extended. Last night, lying comforted and naked next to Sebastian, she’d realized that those golfing people wouldn’t be bulldozing anything this side of Christmas, or even next summer. Feigning ignorance, she’d pleaded a case to Mr. Roberts, saying that any sale would take time to go through, especially if planning permission for renovations had to be processed.
And as for the ten-meter radius … maybe Helen could offer to buy the land surrounding the cottage so that the new road wouldn’t cut so close? But it all came back to the same thing.
Helen needed a massive amount of money.
And she needed it fast.
At six o’clock, Sebastian came home with Chinese food. “It’s got vegetables in it, at least.”
The smells coming from the bag were divine and made Helen’s stomach rumble. “I forgot to have lunch.”
“Not good, Hobbs.”
“I was busy working.” But she didn’t want to discuss the software she’d been working on. Sebastian was likely to go all sergeant major on her as soon as he heard the wordhacking, and she’d rather just eat the delicious food he’d so kindly bought and try to enjoy the evening as best she could. “Liz also called to chat. Her and Tony want to come to the event this weekend. Is that okay?”
“Sure it’s okay.”
Media attention on this weekend’s event—the finale—had gathered pace recently. The Wags had been in the news again, having confirmed they’d be starring in a new reality TV show. Brenda had pounced on the extra publicity and now it seemed that half of the southwest would be turning up.
Sebastian reached into the cupboard for plates. “I can ask Freddy to arrange backstage passes, if you want them with you?”
“That’ll be really nice, thank you.” They ate outside in the garden and Helen told Sebastian about her email to Mr. Roberts. “He hasn’t replied yet, but it usually takes him a day or two.”
“It’s a good plan. You’re being proactive. Kicking ass.”
Scooping up rice, Helen watched Sebastian eat. This was nice, the food, the talk, the sharing a meal with him. And last night had been special, too. After they’d made love, Sebastian had joked about the pasta that had gone cold outside—seriously, Hobbs, the things I have to do to get you to eat—and just like that, they were back to their usual bantering.
But Helen would hate to think it was a pity shag—done only to cheer her up.
Like buying her Chinese food.
“How do you feel about me, Sebastian?” she asked.
If the direct question rattled him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair like they were about to conduct a business meeting. Fine by her. Helen respected his hang-ups enough to know that he’d be more comfortable treating it as such.
“I like you, Helen. I like you a lot.” Sebastian exhaled. The man who wasn’t fazed by public speaking was nervous discussing his feelings. “Maybe I like you too much.”
“Too much for what?”
“To keep everything neat and tidy, and in those little boxes you said I have.” He held Helen’s gaze, sending a jolt to her stomach, an electrifying punch that made her heart skip many beats—until, out from the depths,Jawsstruck again. “Dammit!”
Just when you thought it would be safe to go back in the water …
