‘Earth to Lexi,’ said Amelia, snapping her fingers and my attention back to her hospital room. ‘Where did you go? You were miles away.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I was just thinking about work things.’
I instantly regretted my words as a troubled look crossed the face that looked so much like mine.
‘Don’t you think you should be back in New York by now?’
‘Don’t you think it’s time you stopped asking me that?’ I batted right back.
‘They’re not going to wait forever for a decision from you,’ Amelia pointed out reasonably, unaware this was something I’d already considered and made my peace with. ‘And what about Jeff?’ she persisted. ‘He can’t be happy you’re staying here to look after me – which incidentally I don’t need, in case you were wondering.’
‘I thought you didn’t like Jeff?’ I asked, slipping easily back into the sisterly banter that came as naturally to both of us as breathing.
‘I never said that.’
‘You didn’t have to.’ I grinned at her and touched my forehead and then pointed at hers. ‘It’s a twin thing.’
‘It’s a good taste in men thing,’ she shot back, just as one of the nursing team came in to take her obs.
I didn’t need to ask for the results to know that Amelia was getting better. Maybe the end to this whole awful ordeal really was in sight.
*
Perhaps because Amelia had mentioned him, or perhaps because I’d spent the best part of the day with another man, Jeff was on my mind more than usual on the drive back to the cottage. Our relationship had slipped into a coma, and if I was being honest, it had probably started long before I’d got on a plane to be with my family. We were sleepwalking through something that wasn’t old enough to be comfortable and taken for granted. And yes, the physical attraction was still there, but sex – even the great kind – can only carry you for so long. You couldn’t and shouldn’t build a future on it. The cold hard truth was that Jeff and I had been happily travelling along two parallel tracks that were now slowly veering off in different directions. It wasn’t the first time one of my relationships had run out of steam. In fact, for a romantic fiction editor, I didn’t seem to have a clue how to find my own happily ever after.
Less than forty-five minutes after getting home, I would find out just how true that was.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the message from my assistant, Kacey, in New York wasn’t entirely unexpected… but the first line was definitely an attention grabber.
I’ve thought long and hard and I still don’t know if I should tell you this…
They’ve offered the job to someone else, I thought immediately. They’re going to reassign my authors to another editor; they’re making cuts, they’re letting me go. My worst-case scenarios just kept on coming, each one making me feel a little queasy. I typed back:
You can’t start a message like that.
The blip of my sent message sounded extraordinarily loud in the empty lounge.
Okay. I have something to tell you. But you didn’t hear it from me.
Except I patently did, I thought, as my lips twisted in concern.
Fine. What is it?
The dancing dots of her typed reply went on and on, creating their own telephonic torture. I was already wondering how up to date my CV was and who I should send it to first, when her reply finally landed on my screen.
Do you remember me telling you I was going to my cousin’s wedding in The Hamptons?
I stared in bewilderment at my phone. What did this have to do with the team restructuring? Kacey’s question was clearly one I wasn’t expected to answer, because she followed it up with her first revelation.
Well, I was worried I wouldn’t know anyone there. But it turns out that actually I did…
Kacey stopped typing, and a tiny wave of irritation swept through me. This wasnotthe moment to pause for dramatic effect, but she was doing so anyway. I typed:
Who?
And even before I’d pinged the question to New York, I think part of me already knew the answer.
Jeff.
