past that jeweller’s hundreds if not thousands of times and never once had he looked at the display in the window. But that day he had felt compelled not only to look but to go inside. He had seen the pearl and instantly known it was perfect for Kat. It was unique and beautiful, just as she was.
He tossed the bedcovers aside and reached for his crutches beside the bed. He was completely over his foot. It wasn’t so much the pain now but the inconvenience. He was tired of how it slowed him down.
Where was Kat? Had she gone back next door? He made his awkward way downstairs and saw that her coat was no longer hung up next to his. Her hat and gloves were not on the hall table. A cavern of emptiness spread in his chest like a flesh-eating stain.
He was alone.
* * *
Kat knew Flynn was in a foul mood as soon as she arrived the next morning. She had left his bed the night before because he’d seemed restless while he slept. She’d assumed his foot was giving him trouble so she’d left so he could have the bed to himself without having to worry about her bumping him during the night.
There were other reasons she had left. One big reason, actually. Not that she wanted to examine it too closely.
He was in the kitchen stirring a cup of coffee, which seemed a little pointless, as he didn’t take milk or sugar. His back was turned towards her and even though he was wearing a business shirt and trousers she could see the tension in his body. She could even sense it in the air, crackling like static. Even Cricket was acting a little subdued. He wasn’t bouncing around and twirling in excitement but had a baleful look on his funny little face.
‘Good morning,’ she said with Pollyanna brightness.
‘Morning.’
‘How did you sleep?’
‘Fine.’
She waited a beat but he still didn’t turn around to greet her. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No.’
Kat rolled her eyes. ‘So why are you giving me the cold shoulder?’
He turned but in doing so he lost hold of one of his crutches. It clattered noisily to the floor, terrifying Cricket in the process. The poor little mutt went careening out of the room as if someone had taken a baseball bat to him. Flynn swore and tried to pick up his crutch but Kat got there first. ‘Here you go,’ she said.
‘Thanks.’ It was little more than a brooding mutter.
‘Clearly someone got out of the wrong side of the bed. Am I supposed to play twenty questions or will you tell me?’
‘Why didn’t you stay last night?’
‘I’m being paid to house-sit next door,’ Kat said. ‘That means I’m meant to actually house-sit. Pardon me for being a little pedantic about these things but accepting money from someone without doing the work is not something I’m all that comfortable doing.’
His tight frown relaxed slightly but didn’t completely disappear. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being unreasonable. Of course you have responsibilities next door.’
Kat put her hand on his forearm where he was leaning on his crutch. ‘I was worried I was disturbing you last night. You were tossing and turning so much I thought your foot would get hurt if I stayed.’
There was a flicker of wryness in his smile. ‘You don’t take up that much space.’
‘I’d better check on Cricket,’ Kat said. ‘Is he usually so jumpy around fallen objects?’
‘My father threw a shoe at him at Christmas. I got the feeling it wasn’t the first time.’
‘I don’t think I like either of your parents very much,’ she said. ‘I hope I don’t have to meet them. I’m not one for keeping my opinions to myself.’
His smile set off a twinkle in his dark eyes. ‘So I’ve found out.’
Kat reached up and planted a kiss to his mouth before she could stop herself. ‘Good morning,’ she said softly.
‘Good morning,’ he said with equal softness. ‘Do you want some breakfast? I’ve made coffee.’
She gave him a look of mock reproach. ‘Coffee is not breakfast. You need proper nutrition when your body is repairing itself.’
He tugged on a tendril of her hair. ‘Yes, dear.’
Kat laughed off his hen-pecked husband imitation. ‘As if you’d ever allow a woman to tell you what you could and couldn’t do. Or a man, for that matter.’
He didn’t answer when she turned to go and search for Cricket, but when she glanced at him as she got to the door he was no longer smiling and that brooding frown had settled back between his brows.
* * *
The next two weeks flew past with Kat juggling rehearsals and shifts at the café. She spent most evenings with Flynn but insisted on returning to her own bed next door. The Carstairs family was coming back the following week and she wanted to make sure everything was in tip-top shape for their arrival.
On set, Elisabetta was her usual demanding self, but Kat came to look forward to their scenes together onstage. She felt inspired by the older woman’s talent and knew when Elisabetta pulled her up for something it was because she knew Kat could give more, could dig deeper, could perform from her heart and soul instead of simply acting out a role. Elisabetta loved acting the way Kat loved it. It was a driving passion, an ambition she’d had since she was young.
Kat found it a little weird to have struck up a tentative friendship with her biological father’s wife, but over the course of the rehearsals she felt a bond growing between Elisabetta and herself that she never would have predicted. She wouldn’t have described them as friends, by any measure of the word, but she liked to think Elisabetta respected her for her willingness to learn. In a rare moment in the dressing room, Elisabetta even told Kat some of her anguish over finding out about Richard’s affair with Kat’s mother.
‘I hated her and I hated him,’ Elisabetta said, leaning forward to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. She pressed her lips together. ‘The worst thing was, he was still seeing her when he’d reconciled with me.’
‘I know,’ Kat said. ‘I don’t know how you could stay married to him after that. I would’ve divorced him in a flash.’
Elisabetta turned on her chair in front of the lighted mirror, her expression a little wistful. ‘Have you ever been passionately in love?’
Kat opened and closed her suddenly dry mouth. ‘I...erm...’
‘I loved Richard from the moment I met him,’ Elisabetta said. ‘I looked into his eyes and wham. That was it. But I hate him too. Some days the hate wins, other days the love does. Right now, I’m undecided.’
‘Do you think he’s learned his lesson?’ Kat asked.
Elisabetta sighed as she picked up her hairbrush. She examined it for a moment before absently drawing a couple of hairs free from the bristles. ‘Who knows? Some
