he preferred to eat on his own, hidden away in his room in front of his computer.
But he said, ‘Here’s OK, isn’t it?’
‘Of course.’ Emily tried not to look too surprised or pleased, but she couldn’t deny that she would prefer his company to being left alone with her own unhappy thoughts. She shot him a cautious smile. ‘What about wine? Would you rather red or white?’
‘Actually … I’m not drinking alcohol.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’ve given it up. Temporarily.’
Once again, she thought she caught a flash of emotion, as if there was something else, a deeper worry that haunted Jude. For a second she thought he was going to say more but, if that was his plan, he quickly changed his mind.
‘I won’t have wine, either, then,’ she said. ‘It’s not a great idea to drink alone.’
‘But you’re not alone.’ Jude was insistent. ‘Go on. Have a glass. It’ll do you good. You want to drown your sorrows, don’t you?’
If only she could just drown her sorrows and be rid of them. But the pain would still be there when the effects of the wine wore off. Just the same, as Jude peeled silver foil from the wonderfully aromatic tubs of curry, Emily poured herself a glass of white and gratefully flopped down in a seat.
‘That smells amazing. I didn’t eat lunch.’
‘Neither did I. I’m starving.’
At first they were both too ravenous to bother with conversation, but there were plenty of appreciative groans and nods of approval as they helped themselves to the food. Emily, however, hadn’t been able to eat much since she’d found out about Michael, and it wasn’t long before she had to call a halt.
‘My eyes were bigger than my stomach,’ she said as she watched Jude help himself to more curry. She sipped her wine instead, then because he was starting to look more relaxed, she gave in to her growing curiosity. ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how long have you known Alex?’
He looked surprised. ‘Why would I mind? I’ve known him for about five years. As I said earlier, I’m a writer. Alex is my agent.’
‘Oh? Really?’ So they had a business relationship as well as a personal one. ‘That’s a handy arrangement.’
Jude frowned at her, as if, yet again, he found her comment puzzling. ‘Yes, it is. Very handy.’
‘What do you write?’
‘Thrillers.’
She gaped at him. ‘As in thriller novels?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘How amazing.’ Now it was her turn to be surprised, and she stared at her mysterious host with new respect. ‘Should I have heard of you?’
‘Not unless you like reading thrillers.’
Emily liked reading crime novels, and she didn’t mind a thriller plot, but she mostly read books written by women writers because they had more female characters in their stories. ‘I’m not keen on the really blokesy books,’ she said.
Jude actually smiled at that. ‘To be honest, neither am I. In fact, I always include at least one major female character in every story.’
‘Well—’ her respect for him was growing by the second ‘—I should be reading your books then, shouldn’t I?’
His head dipped in a mock bow.
Before Emily could ask anything else, he held up a hand as if to stop her. ‘I think that’s enough questions about me.’
‘Ah …’ Emily pulled a face. ‘So now we talk about Alex? Or world affairs?’
‘Or you.’
‘Believe me,’ she warned him darkly, ‘you don’t want to go there.’
While she’d come rushing to the city to tell Alex everything about Michael, she couldn’t imagine ever confessing her personal problems to Jude. The very thought of telling him about her cheating boyfriend made her face burn. She took a swift and, hopefully, cooling gulp of wine.
As if he’d sensed her sudden panic, he said, ‘I was wondering what sort of work you do.’
This, at least, was easy to answer. ‘I work in a bank.’
‘As a teller?’
‘As a manager.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ His intelligent grey eyes narrowed. ‘Do you mean you’re a bank manager?’
‘I do.’
Jude blinked at her.
‘Don’t you believe me?’
His smile was sheepish. ‘I’m very sorry if I looked surprised, Emily. It’s just—’ Pausing, he took a breath and clearly made an effort to stifle another urge to smile. ‘I’m fascinated, to be honest.’
‘Most men find my work boring.’ Or threatening.
‘Perhaps you’ve been talking to the wrong men.’
Well, yes, Emily had discovered this the hard way, but she wasn’t prepared to admit it now.
‘I’d love to hear how you’ve done so well so quickly,’ Jude prompted.
‘By a rather roundabout route, to be honest.’
‘The best stories are never straightforward.’
He managed to look genuinely interested, and Emily decided that Alex would be very pleased with his housemate’s efforts to play the attentive host. At least talking about her job distracted her from other thoughts.
‘The thing is, I never planned to work in a bank,’ she said. ‘I was always going to be a famous ballerina. After high school I went straight to Melbourne, to study ballet.’
‘A dancer. That explains …’ His voice tapered off.
‘Explains what?’
‘Why you’re so graceful,’ he said simply, but he looked unhappy, as if he wished he hadn’t said that.
‘I certainly loved everything about ballet. I loved the discipline, the music and the opportunities to perform. But—’ she twisted the stem of her almost empty wine glass ‘—after a couple of years, I ran into problems with a choreographer.’
‘A male choreographer?’
‘Yes.’ Looking up, her eyes met Jude’s and she saw that he was watching her with another thoughtful frown.
‘Let’s just say I have bad luck with men.’
She
