‘And what does me trying to find Michel have to do with Oliver?IfMichel gets in contact, we’re not going to rekindle the one night of romance we had and morph into Brad and Angelina.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do know that. Because I don’t want that,’ she said with determination. ‘Anyway, he could be married. Or… he could have realised he’s gay.’
She gave a satisfied nod as that sentence settled into Dean’s conscience.
‘I’m not looking for a relationship. I wasn’t even looking for a date but… he asked and… he’s funny and stupid and irritating and… I’m on holiday for the first time in nine years and in between the searching for an ex-lover, I wouldn’t mind having a bit of fun! And… I like him.’
A conscious pang of heat took her by surprise. Shedidlike Oliver. It was obviously casual, but not casual enough to dismiss entirely.
Dean sighed. ‘Well, what about this job? You know you can’t work here without a permit.’
‘Yes I do know that.’
‘So…’
‘So I needed some extra cash because I quit my job, and I took a chance. I thought I could see how it went and…’ Hayley stopped.
‘And what?’ Dean asked.
‘I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘After the boss finally put his clammy, wandering hands on me one too many times, I thought maybe…’ She sighed again. Dean would think she was certifiable if she admitted she’d hoped to see if New York’s streets were paved with opportunity for them when they got here. ‘It was stupid.’
‘There are harassment laws to stop that sort of thing.’ Dean shook his head.
‘I know. I just couldn’t bear the hassle of all the paperwork and the meetings. It was just easier to leave.’
‘He could do that to the next girl. How could you be so stupid?’
‘All right! I don’t need it rubbing in my face from the golden child.’
The second the words were in the air, Hayley regretted them. She wanted to say she was sorry or retract the fierceness of the statement; instead, she nudged the photo of Shirley Bassey with the side of her head and it fell off its nail and hit the floor.
Hayley bent down, retrieving the picture and brushing the glass with her fingers. ‘Sorry… I’m sorry.’
Dean snatched the frame from her. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s just apicture.’ He slipped it back into position on the wall. ‘I’m worried about you.’
‘I’m fine,’ Hayley responded quickly.
‘You’re not fine.’
‘Aren’t I?’
‘I know what it is,’ Dean said with confidence.
‘You do?’
‘Angel’s coming up to secondary-school age. She’s growing up, getting more independent; it’s making you re-evaluate everything.’
‘Who made you Dr Phil?’ She tutted. ‘It’s really not that.’
‘You think you need to strike out a little.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with doing that anyway. You said so yourself. Or did you mean something more like crochet?’
‘I think you know that in a few years’ time, Angel’s not going to be occupying so much of your time and you think you need to fill it with something else.’
‘Don’tI need to fill it with something else? Don’t Ideserveto fill it with something else?’
