could feel the colour swishing through her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not my place to question you. Look, um, please ask the cabbie to pull over and drop me off, and I’ll get out of your way and find myself another taxi.’
‘You said it was urgent—a family thing.’
‘It is.’
‘Then let me get you to the hotel. Tarquin obviously overran with the interviews and made you late in the first place, so it’s Insurgo’s fault.’
‘No, it’s not,’ she said. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But right at that moment she was more worried about Grace than about making a good impression on her new boss, so she’d accept the offer. ‘But thank you for the lift. I really appreciate this.’
‘No problem.’
She texted Grace swiftly.
In taxi now. Wait for me in Reception.
Finally the taxi driver pulled up outside the Bramerton Hotel.
‘Thank you again, Mr Moncrieff,’ she said politely. ‘How much do I owe you for the cab fare?’
‘Nothing. You’re practically on my way,’ he said.
‘Thank you. Really. And I’ll work late every night next week to make up for it,’ she said, and left the taxi before she could say anything else stupid.
When she walked into the reception area, Grace was waiting there, white-faced and silent. And there was no sign of Howard. Why wasn’t Grace’s fiancé waiting with her? Had something happened to Howard? No, of course not, or Grace would’ve said something in her texts. Not just that single word: Help, followed by rejecting Bella’s call and sending a second text: Can’t talk now. And now Bella was seriously worried. What on earth had happened?
But Grace had been right about one thing. They couldn’t talk about it here. Not with Howard’s parents’ golden wedding anniversary going on in one of the function rooms. Whatever it was, Bella had her sister’s back. And they were leaving. Now.
‘Come on. Let’s get out of here,’ Bella said softly, put her arm round Grace and led her out of the hotel.
Back in the street, she looked around for a taxi.
Then she realised that the taxi that had dropped her off was still waiting at the kerb, exactly where she’d left it. And Hugh Moncrieff was still there too, though he’d moved seats so that his back was to the cabbie. He wound the window down and beckoned them over. ‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?’
‘But—’ she began.
‘Everything’s clearly not OK,’ he said softly, looking at Grace, ‘so I’ll drop you and...your sister, I presume?’ At her nod, he continued, ‘I’ll drop you where you need to go. What’s the address?’
Bella definitely didn’t want to leave Grace alone tonight, and her own flat wasn’t big enough for two. Biting her lip, she gave him Grace’s address. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘We both really appreciate this. Especially as you didn’t have to wait.’
‘No problem.’
She helped Grace into the car. Grace still hadn’t said a word. Worried, Bella took her hand and squeezed it; but Grace didn’t return the pressure. And this time nobody seemed disposed to make any small talk. With every second, Bella felt more and more awkward.
Then, just as the taxi turned into Grace’s road, Grace threw up. All over Hugh’s posh Italian shoes and suit trousers.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she mumbled.
She looked almost as mortified as Bella felt—and Bella had no idea what to say. What could you say when your sister threw up over your new boss? Apart from an equally apologetic, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Hugh brushed it aside. ‘These things happen. Do you need help getting her indoors?’
‘Thank you, but no—I think you’ve done more than enough to help us, this evening.’ Bella took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’ll pay for valeting the taxi and I’ll pick up the bill for dry-cleaning your suit and replacing your shoes.’
‘We’ll sort it out later,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you can manage?’
‘I’m sure,’ Bella fibbed. At least she had Grace’s spare door key, so actually getting into the flat wouldn’t be a problem. ‘And thank you. And sorry. And—’
‘Just get your sister safely inside,’ Hugh cut in. ‘We’ll sort out everything later.’
‘Thank you. And I’m sorry,’ Bella whispered again, and helped Grace out of the taxi.
This really wasn’t how Hugh had expected to spend a Friday evening. Or how he’d expected to meet the newest member of his team.
The poor woman had looked horrified when her sister threw up everywhere.
Did Bella often rescue her sister like that? he wondered. Funny, the other woman had been dressed so soberly, in a navy linen dress and sensible shoes. Looking at them together, most people would’ve guessed that the younger woman was the one who partied too hard and would be most likely to throw up in the back of a taxi and need looking after.
Or maybe Bella’s sister hadn’t been drunk. Maybe she’d been ill. But then surely Bella would’ve said that her sister was ill, or even called an ambulance?
But it was none of his business. He should just take a step back and ignore it.
‘I’m sorry about all that,’ he said to the driver. ‘If you can drop me home, I’ll pay for the cost of valeting the taxi and lost fares.’ He gave the driver the address.
Though he still couldn’t get Bella Faraday out of his head. Especially the moment when she’d kissed his cheek; it had felt as if he’d been galvanised. And then, when she’d shaken his hand, every nerve-end had been aware of the feel of her skin against his.
Hugh was definitely attracted to her. More attracted than he’d been towards anyone in a very long time.
But.
After the whole fiasco with Jessie, he’d learned his lesson well. Hugh would never, ever mix work and pleasure again. As Tarquin had just hired Bella as their new graphic artist, it meant that she came firmly under the category of work. So he’d have to just ignore the pull of attraction in future and treat her just the same as he did every single one of his colleagues—by keeping her at a professional distance.
Even if she did have the sexiest mouth and sparkliest eyes he’d ever seen.
No involvement.
No risks.
This time, he’d stick to the rules.
‘I’m so sorry I
