Cupid's Way (23 page)

Which was looking less likely by the day, Evie thought. Yesterday Frank had come back from the pub with stories of how Bob Peacock had been bragging about the flashy holiday he was going to pay for with his compensation. Evie couldn’t bear the look of defeat on her gran’s face, or the atmosphere of tension between them.

Cissy was regarding Evie with interest. ‘Don’t you have some kind of connection with that Dynamite guy?’ she said.

Evie nodded. It was one way of putting it.

‘Well, there you go.’ Cissy nudged her in the ribs and grinned. ‘Use your feminine charms on him. See if you can’t get him interested in the cooperative idea.’

‘Ha! I don’t think that would work. Nice idea, though.’

‘How do you know? He seemed like a reasonable enough guy at that meeting at the community centre. And from what Sarah’s been telling me,’ Cissy added with a wink, ‘he’s got a pretty big soft spot for you.’

Evie glared across the gardens towards Sarah’s house. Had she, now? ‘Well, he might have had a soft spot initially, but I think it’s hardened up some recently.’ Like a calloused wart.

Pip grabbed Cissy’s arm and tugged her down onto the path. ‘Take no notice of her, Evie. She thinks everything can be solved with a bit of fairy dust and magic.’

‘If only it could,’ Evie murmured, watching them stroll back towards the allotment. She shivered in the nippy breeze and pulled the door closed. A voice at her back said,

‘Maybe it can.’

Evie wheeled around and found her gran standing at the bottom of the stairs.

‘You overheard that, I suppose?’

Mavis nodded.

‘And I’m guessing you think Cissy’s got a point. That I should go and talk to Michael, see if I can – what did she say – “use my feminine charms”?’

‘Evie, I would gladly sleep with the man myself if it meant keeping hold of my house, but I don’t imagine he’d be that up for it. With you, however …’

Evie clapped her hand to her mouth, shocked into silence. But when she looked again at her gran she saw she was smiling mischievously. ‘Gran, you are incorrigible. You’d pimp out your own granddaughter to a man you can’t stand?’

‘No, of course not. In fact, I forbid you to so much as kiss the hateful man. But … Oh, I don’t know. Would it hurt to talk to him? Would it hurt to have one last try?’

Trying to buy some time to think, Evie looked past her gran to the wall of photographs and prints. She noticed a clumping of holiday snaps in the far corner of the room, and then she realised why these frames had been shoved together. There was a new arrival. Sitting about two feet from the ceiling, half in the light from the lamp on the sideboard, was the photograph of Tommy. It was mounted in a navy frame, and sat at a slight angle, as though hung inexpertly and possibly in a hurry so no one would notice.

Evie raised her hand to point to the photo, but Mavis pressed her arm back down to her side.

‘Evie,’ she said. ‘Sometimes we just do what we have to do.’

Blinking back her tears, Evie nodded, but by the time she’d collected herself to reach out for a hug, her gran was back in the kitchen clattering cups and whistling under her breath. Evie took a deep breath and looked at the photo again.

Maybe it was worth a try. After all, things couldn’t really get any worse, could they?

*

The drive into Bristol was far too quick, and before she knew it, Evie was standing in front of the offices of Dynamite Construction Incorporated in one of the city’s well-to-do areas of commerce. She remembered Michael pointing out his office the day they sat having coffee on the other side of the river. None of this had seemed so serious back then. She’d kind of assumed it would all blow over, the way these things often did. Since that day she’d given up her job, found out about her gran’s tragic secret, moved back to her childhood home and discovered feelings for Michael that were stubbornly resistant.

But this was the hardest challenge yet. She stood on the pavement looking up at the mirrored glass and wondered if he would even agree to see her. Maybe he wouldn’t be here – he could be up in Edinburgh or flying around the world doing his thing. Being important. Trying to figure out which scenario would make her happiest, Evie pushed open the glass door and walked inside.

An ice-blonde receptionist perched behind a marble desk greeted Evie warmly. She didn’t bat a fake-lash-encrusted eyelid when Evie asked to see Mr Andrews, calling through to his office on a state of the art console. Evie couldn’t hear Michael’s response, but she figured it was positive because the receptionist pointed her in the direction of a pair of glass lifts and instructed her to get off at the sixth floor. Evie obeyed, wiping her palms on the side of her linen jacket every couple of steps.

In the lift, she checked her hair and make-up, despite having told herself over and over on the way into town that she wasn’t going to worry about that sort of thing. Michael would either listen to her or he wouldn’t, and the shade of her lipstick or the exact smoothness of her hair should have little impact either way. Still, it was reassuring to note that she looked pretty good today. In her bag she carried the folder with all her notes on the cooperative idea, and she’d rehearsed her speech at least five times in the car. She ran over it again now, mouthing the words into the mirror, tipping her head a little to test out her entreating expression. Then she realised that everyone in the offices she passed on the other side of the atrium could see her through the glass walls of the lift, and probably thought she was some kind of nutcase.

Michael was waiting for her when she exited the lift. He held out his hand and Evie shook it. She suppressed a nervous giggle – the formality of the situation seemed ridiculous suddenly – but Michael’s serious expression and the imposing surroundings soon knocked the hilarity out of her.

‘Please, sit,’ Michael said, closing the door behind them. His office was just as she’d expected – large and minimalist, with polished concrete floors and distressed wooden furniture. It screamed good taste, just like the man himself. Evie swallowed and took her position in the chair Michael indicated. She slotted her bag between her legs, wishing she’d worn the one and only skirt she’d brought with her from Manchester. When she finally got around to doing some job hunting she’d have to buy something suitable to wear for an interview, but for now dark blue jeans and navy heels were as smart as she could manage.

‘So.’ Michael pulled up a chair alongside hers and relaxed into it, lacing his fingers loosely in his lap. There were no signs of tension from him, or for that matter of the electrical charge Evie had picked up the last time she saw him. She tried to tell herself it would be for the best if he’d lost interest completely, and also that she couldn’t really blame him. But she still registered a twinge of disappointment at his casual manner.

‘I’m here on business,’ she said, shaking back her hair and reaching for her folder.

‘I don’t doubt it for one minute,’ Michael said gravely. There was no sign of his dimples today. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Evie found herself acutely aware of his movements, of every tiny detail. In the harsh light from the floor to ceiling windows, his eyes were a new shade of brown, almost hazel. His hair had grown a little too long again, curling around the tops of his ears. His skin was smooth, freshly shaved, and he gave off an intoxicating scent – not musky or citrusy but something she couldn’t name. Something expensive.

‘So,’ he said again, nodding his head towards the folder Evie held in her slack hand while she gazed at him. She gave herself a tiny shake and took out a sheet of paper.

‘I’m here to make a proposition to Dynamite Construction,’ she began, focusing on the words of her prepared speech. The last time she’d had to give a speech, Michael had been at the back of the room looking up at her with those encouraging eyes, just the way he was now.

‘Okay. And what’s your proposal?’

Evie jumped out of her reverie and started again. ‘Right. Yes, okay. The new Cupid’s Way residents’ association would like to explore the possibility of repurposing the city council’s plan for the aforementioned site with the view to seeing it used as a–’

‘Evie?’ Michael tipped his head to one side and reached out his hand. With one finger he gently traced a line down Evie’s arm, all the way to her wrist. When he reached her hand he turned it over, stroked her palm with the lightest touch, then traced the line back up to her elbow, watching her face the entire time. She felt his touch through the thin fabric of her top, and she didn’t only feel it on her skin. The charge went further, heating up her chest and throbbing deep between her legs. It was, for the briefest moment, so erotic Evie almost forgot to breathe.

So much for him losing interest.

‘Evie,’ he said, taking away his hand and leaning back again, ‘why don’t you just tell me what it is you want?’

She bit her lip and tried to gather her thoughts. Just think, Evie. Don’t let him distract you by being gorgeous and sexy. Concentrate, woman.

With a huge effort of will, Evie forced her body to relax. ‘We want you to tell the council you’re not going to build their medical centre, but that you’re going to support the development of a housing cooperative instead. It’s just as good for the local environment, but far less costly, and there’s no reason why the council shouldn’t let you go ahead with your housing plans regardless. We’ve come up with two alternative sites for the new medical centre should the council insist on it as part of your deal, so really, when you think about it, this new plan makes far more sense from every angle.’

And breathe. Evie shrugged down her shoulders, which seemed to have made their way up to her ears somehow, and lifted her chin. She looked around the office, suddenly parched. ‘Might I have a drink of water?’

Michael nodded and left the room, returning seconds later with a jug-shaped glass of ice-cold water, which he placed on a low table in front of them.

‘Very trendy,’ Evie said, heaving the glass to her lips as he turned away and began to root around in a cupboard that looked like it was fashioned from driftwood. ‘But not quite as user friendly as your bog-standard normal glassware.’

Michael turned around holding a normal-sized glass in each hand. ‘Evie – that’s not a …’ He grinned, the dimples back in business, and filled his own glass from the jug that now bore the tell-tale imprint of Evie’s peach lipstick. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he told her, still smiling. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. That night we spent together at the conference, I just felt that–’

‘The thing is, Michael,’ Evie said, her face still burning with embarrassment, ‘I’m not here to talk about that. I really want to get your thoughts on this project so I can take it back to the residents’ association and plan our next move.’

It helped a lot to just shut him down, she reflected. If she allowed him to go there, to the time they spent together in Cardiff, she’d be lost. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded.

‘Fair enough. Run it by me again. I’m afraid I was a bit distracted before.’

Evie sighed and talked through her ideas again. This time she went into detail, allowing herself to get fired up all over again when she told him about how the cooperative might work, drawing pictures in the air with her hands and showing him the notes she’d made. He listened, nodding in all the right places, and Evie began to think she might be on to something. Maybe Cissy had been right – maybe it was a good idea to come and talk to him. And maybe, just maybe, she could convince him on the merits of the idea alone. Maybe it wouldn’t come down to feminine charm after all.

When she finally ran out of steam, Michael ordered them coffee through an intercom and moved around to sit behind his desk. The change in position left Evie feeling a little lost, but as soon as he started to speak she understood why he’d done it.

So she wouldn’t hit him, most likely.

She watched him talking, only picking up distinct words here and there – words like ‘problematic’, ‘other considerations’ and ‘cost-effective’ – and wondered why she’d ever allowed herself to believe this might actually work out.

‘You know what, Michael,’ Evie said, suddenly finding herself on her feet. ‘Just forget it. Just wipe it from your mind and get on with whatever it was you were doing before I interrupted you.’ She took in the showy room with a sweep of her hand. ‘I guess you have to work pretty hard to achieve all this. You wouldn’t want the memories of a few old people and the hopes and dreams of their neighbours to get in the way of your massive salary, would you?’

She turned towards the door, but Michael was behind her so fast she figured he must have vaulted the desk.

‘Hold on, Evie. That’s not fair, and you know it. This has got nothing to do with my salary. It’s business. It’s a business deal, pure and simple.’

‘There’s nothing simple about it.’ Her voice rose, drowning him out. ‘These are people’s homes, not just bricks and mortar. I’ve come to you with a brilliant idea for the street, a way for the council to save face and still get their precious medical centre
and
the cash from Dynamite Construction, but you’re just coming at me with all these crappy reasons why it won’t work.’

‘Because it won’t work. It’s a stupid idea, frankly. An airy-fairy let’s-all-live-in-fantasy-land idea. And I’d have thought better of you, to be honest. You’re an intelligent woman. You know how these things work. For pity’s sake, Evie, that firm of architects of yours have done worse than this and you know it.’

Evie reeled at his words, barely aware of his hand gripping her forearm. ‘FYI, I resigned from Lee, Lee and Meredith two weeks ago.’ Her voice came out low and flat. ‘You’re wrong, Michael. About Cupid’s Way, about the cooperative, and about me. Most of all about me.’

‘Am I? I know that this thing between us, whatever the hell it is, isn’t going away. But whatever I feel about you, I can’t pull out of a development deal just because some people you know will have to move house.’ He let go of her arm and held out his palms to either side. ‘And move into houses that are better and warmer and not falling down. Is that so terrible?’