it here. Where it had all begun.
‘Jonas? Are you listening to me?’
He jumped. ‘Of course,’ he lied.
‘You didn’t even hear me come in! Honestly, Jonas, if I want to be ignored I’ll stay at home and ask my husband to clean.’
‘Sorry, Fliss, I was engrossed in this email.’
Fliss peered over his shoulder. ‘I can see why. It’s not every day you get offered a million pounds just for letting somebody borrow your bank account, is it?’
Damn spam. ‘The spam filter should be picking these up. I was just wondering why it’s not working.’
She shot him a sceptical look. ‘Delete that and turn your formidable mind to a real problem for a change. Suzy has been ordered to keep her feet up for the rest of her pregnancy and won’t be able to project-manage Wave Fest for us.’
‘Pregnancy?’ He looked up in shock. ‘I didn’t know Suzy was expecting.’
‘I expect she was keeping it a secret from you, knowing your less than enlightened views on working mothers,’ Fliss said drily.
Jonas raised an eyebrow for one long moment, watching her colour with some satisfaction. ‘I have no view on working mothers—or on working fathers, for that matter, I just expect my employees to pull their weight at work—not be at home with their feet up. Damn! There’s only a month to go and we’ll never get anyone to take over at this short notice. Fliss, is there any way you can take this on?’
‘I don’t think so.’ The petite redhead was contrite. ‘I still have a lot to do with the last café you bought, and if you do take over The Laurels I’ll need to start on the rebrand there too. I can help with the PR—I usually do most of that anyway—but I cannot project-manage an entire festival. Suzy has all the information written out and timetabled, so at least all we need is someone to step in and run it.’
Jonas acknowledged the truth of Fliss’s statement. Her workload was pretty full-on right now. He pushed his chair back and swivelled round, staring down sightlessly on the room below. ‘Think, Fliss—is there anyone, any summer jobber, who’s capable of taking this on?’
She stood lost in thought, concentration on her face, then shook her head. ‘Nobody springs to mind.’
Jonas grimaced. ‘We’ll just have to bite the bullet and get a temp in—though that’s far from ideal.’
It had been hard enough handing the festival over to Suzy when it and the rest of the business had got too big for him to manage comfortably alone, even with Fliss’s support. Letting a stranger loose on such an important event was impossible to imagine.
But he couldn’t see another way.
Fliss was obviously thinking along the same lines. ‘A temp? That will take at least a week, and cost a fortune in agency fees.’
‘Bringing outsiders in is never easy, but it looks like we have no choice. You and I will have to keep it all ticking over until we find somebody. We managed the first three, after all...’
She flashed a conspiratorial grin at him. ‘Goodness knows how. But we were young and optimistic then—and they were a lot smaller affairs; we are victims of our own success. But, okay, I’ll let Dave know I’m working late so he’d better come here for dinner. Again. We were going to come back for Open Mic Night anyway.’
‘Great. You drive straight over to Suzy’s and go over all those lists and spreadsheets with her. We’ll divvy up tasks later. Have another think about anyone internally, and if there really is nobody I’ll call a couple of agencies later today.’
A sense of satisfaction ran through him as he made the decision. He was a hands-on boss—too hands-on, some said—but he liked to know exactly how everything was handled, from salad prep to food sourcing. It was his name over the door after all.
Fliss saluted. ‘Yes, Boss,’ she said, then turned round to leave the room, only to stop with a strangled cry. ‘Jonas! Look—in that corner over there.’
‘Why exactly are you whispering?’ Although he knew exactly what—exactly who—she had seen. He cocked an eyebrow at her, aiming for a nonchalance he didn’t feel. Lawrie’s unexpected presence was no big deal. He had no intention of letting it become one.
Fliss obviously had other ideas. Her eyes were alight with excitement. ‘It’s Lawrie. Look, Jonas.’
‘I know it’s Lawrie, but I still don’t know why you’re whispering. She can’t hear you, you know.’
‘Of course she can’t, but...’ Her voice turned accusatory. ‘You knew she was here and didn’t tell me?’
‘It slipped my mind—and it’s obviously slipped yours that we were discussing a rather pressing work matter.’ His tone was cool. ‘Don’t you have somewhere to be?’
‘Five minutes?’ Fliss gave him a pleading look. ‘I can’t not say hello.’
To Jonas’s certain knowledge Fliss hadn’t seen or spoken to Lawrie in nine years. What difference would a few hours make? But his second-in-command, oldest employee and, despite his best efforts to keep her out, best friend was looking so hopeful he couldn’t disappoint her.
He wasn’t the only person Lawrie had walked out on.
‘Five minutes,’ he allowed, adding warningly, ‘But, Fliss, we have a lot to do.’
‘I know. I’ll be quick—thank you.’ Fliss rushed from the room, casting him a grateful glance over her shoulder as she did so. Less than a minute later she had arrived at Lawrie’s table, falling on her in a breathless heap.
Jonas watched as Fliss sat down at the table. He saw Lawrie look up in slight confusion, her puzzled expression quickly change to one of happiness, and the mobile features light up with enthusiasm as she greeted her friend.
When they both looked up at the office he looked away, despite knowing that they couldn’t see through the tinted glass; he had far too much to do to watch them catch up.
Jonas pulled up a report he had commissioned on the small chain of restaurants in Somerset he was considering taking over and read it.
After ten minutes he was still on the first page.
He glanced over at the window. They were still yakking away. What on earth had they got to talk about for so long?
Typical Lawrie. Turning everything upside down without even trying.
When he had seen her standing outside, looking so uncharacteristically unsure, he had seized the opportunity. As soon as he’d known she was back—heard through the village grapevine that she was here to stay, that she was alone—their moment of meeting had been inevitable. Trengarth was too small for a run-in not to be a certainty, but when it came he’d wanted it to be on his terms.
After all, their parting had been on hers.
Inviting her in had felt like the right thing to do. The mature thing. Maybe he should have left her outside after all.
He
