scaffolding looked bleak, cold and abandoned … the description could well have been applied to her.
Back in her flat, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the hallway telephone rang. Abandoning the removal of her jacket, she haphazardly shrugged it back onto her shoulders and urgently grabbed the receiver.
It was him … it had to be him.
‘Hello?’
‘Layla? It’s me—Colette.’
She’d never been so disappointed to hear the voice of a friend. It was a loyal pal she occasionally enjoyed ‘girly’ nights in with—drinking wine, putting the world to rights and giggling over the latest rom-com together.
‘Hi,’ she answered, her hand shaking from the onrush of adrenaline that had poured through her when she’d thought the caller might be Drake. ‘How nice to hear from you. It’s been a while. How are you?’
‘I’m good. How about you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ It grieved Layla that she wasn’t able to sound more convincing. A girl needed her friends—especially at times like these—and Colette was a good one.
‘Hmm …’ the other girl commented. ‘You don’t sound fine to me. Want to talk about what’s been going on?’
Was she a mind-reader? Flushing guiltily, Layla absently curled some silky dark strands of hair round her ear. ‘I’ve met someone, that’s all.’
There was a pause, then Colette asked wondrously, ‘You mean you’ve met a man you’re crazy about?’
‘How did you know?’
‘Because if you weren’t crazy about him you wouldn’t even tell me you’d met someone. You’re not a girl who indulges in casual meaningless encounters … or casual meaningless sex, for that matter. I’ve always sensed that when you finally met a guy you were genuinely attracted to it would have to be all or nothing. Who is he and where did you meet him?’
Feeling protective of Drake’s privacy, and how much or how little she could safely reveal about him, Layla examined the short unvarnished fingernails she’d recently taken to nibbling and sighed. ‘I met him here … in the town.’
‘Is he local?’
‘No. He lives and works in London.’
‘What on earth was he doing here, then?’
The incredulity in her friend’s voice didn’t surprise her. Their town was hardly the jewel of the county … at least not yet. ‘Working … He’s part of the professional team that’s working on the regeneration.’
‘So he’s a town planner or surveyor, perhaps?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Something like that.’
‘Okaay … I can tell you’re being more than a little protective of him … Got any plans for tonight?’
‘No … I don’t.’ Layla wished she was planning on getting ready to see Drake, and it hurt more than she could say that she wasn’t.
‘That’s settled, then. I can tell you’re in need of some friendly advice and support. As soon as I get ready, and pop into the off-licence on the way for a cracking bottle of wine, I’ll be round to pay you a visit. And don’t worry about searching through your collection for a film … we’ll have far too much to chat about for that! Bye for now. I’ll see you soon.’
As she heard the line disconnect at the other end Layla stared blankly at the wall, wondering miserably if she could summon up the energy to share confidences with a well-meaning friend when in all honesty she’d much rather crawl under the duvet and cry …
He’d sat in the car outside the house for almost ten minutes, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say to her. The first hurdle Drake had to cross was whether Layla was actually in, because he hadn’t phoned ahead to let her know he was coming. When he’d seen the lights shining from the windows of the upper floor he had murmured a fervent and relieved, ‘Thank God …’ and told himself that fate must be on his side after all.
Now that he was here he could hardly believe he’d so foolishly stayed away from her for an entire week. Yes, he had genuinely had a workload that barely gave him time to draw breath, but the real reason he hadn’t rung her was because he’d had a nagging story running in his head about her being unwilling to compromise on what she wanted. Consequently he’d allowed the twin gremlins of doubt and fear to prevent him from taking the courageous step he needed to.
This morning, for the first time in days, Drake had woken with the clarity of mind he’d prayed for and his heart filled with absolute certainty about what he should do. But now that he was here, sitting outside the gracious Victorian house that Layla had grown up in, he suddenly felt unsure again. After all, there was no guarantee that she’d be happy to see him, was there? Not after he’d so abruptly cut their last evening together short without any real explanation. What if she thought he was a terrible coward … even worse an unreliable bastard?
‘Damn!’ A colourful expletive followed his frustrated exclamation, and hurriedly stepping out onto the pavement from the Aston Martin that he’d told Jimmy he would drive himself that evening, he closed the door shut with a slam.
Straightening the blue silk tie he wore with his tailored suit, he climbed the wide stone steps up to the front door, his heart hammering harder than if he’d received a prestigious commission from the Queen herself. When he rang the bell, and shortly afterwards saw the hallway light come on through the frosted panes in the door, he stood there in dry-mouthed anticipation of seeing Layla again, fervently hoping that nothing would jinx the event.
‘Well, well, well—as you said to me when I paid a surprise visit to your office … To what do I owe the honour?’
Dressed in black skinny jeans and a biscuit-coloured cardigan, with her feet bare, Layla flashed her glossy brown eyes as if Drake was the last person on earth she’d expected or indeed wanted to see. But her less-than-warm welcome made him even more determined to get her to see reason, and his avid gaze roamed her beautiful features with a slow, teasing smile.
‘If I tell you that this past week I’ve missed you more than I’ve ever missed anyone or anything in my life will that get me an invite in for the cup of coffee I so foolishly declined when I was last here?’ he asked, his voice pitched intimately low.
She was still holding onto the doorframe, as if undecided whether to let him over the threshold or not, but there was a glimmer of what he took to be hope in her eyes, and the majority of the tension that had been making his insides ache for days slowly ebbed.
‘That’s all you want? A cup of coffee?’ she quizzed warily.
‘A cup of your expertly made coffee would be a start, I suppose.’
‘A start to what, exactly?’
‘I’m hoping a frank and truthful conversation.’
‘That’s what I’d like too. Okay. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until my friend leaves. She’s popped round to give me a little female support.’
Drake
