the Costa Blanca?’
‘No, not in Spain—here.’
Jake marched across the kitchen and yanked the fridge door open, although when the blast of cold air hit his face he had no idea what he’d come to fetch, if anything. ‘I’ve told you before. I don’t care what that man does, as long as he doesn’t come within fifty feet of me.’
‘It’s been ten years. Aren’t you even curious?’
‘No. He won’t have changed. Don’t fall for his flannel, Mel.’
Her tone was defensive. ‘What makes you think I’m going to see him?’
‘I didn’t say you were. Are you?’
Silence.
‘You were much younger than me when he left. You don’t remember half of what went on—and there was lots of stuff I made sure you didn’t find out. I know you’ve got these fairytale ideas that he’ll come back and it’ll be happy families, but it’s not going to happen, Mel. He’ll pick your pocket the same time as giving you a hug.’
Her voice was quiet. He knew she was on the verge of tears, but he wasn’t prepared to have her hurt. He had to be tough with her now to stop worse pain in the future. All the same, he didn’t want to unleash the anger reserved for his father on Mel.
He softened his voice. ‘I’m sorry, sis, that’s just the way it is.’
‘I know. I just wish it wasn’t, you know?’ She sniffed. ‘I thought I should tell you, that’s all.’
‘Thanks. I’m glad you did.’
Another sniff. ‘Well, I’d better be getting on …’
‘Take care of yourself. I’ll see you on Sunday, okay? Don’t cry for him, Mel. He’s not worth it.’
‘I’ll try. Bye, Jake.’ There was a gentle but despondent click as she put the receiver down.
Jake resisted flinging his phone against the dark slate tiles of the kitchen floor and carefully placed it back in its cradle. Hadn’t that man done enough damage in the past? Why couldn’t he have just stayed disappeared? He wrenched the door of the glass cabinet open. He’d bet last year’s salary that the reason for Charlie Jacobs’s return was not a good one.
JAKE walked back towards the bottle of wine. Grinding the corkscrew into the cork felt good. Just the scent of chocolate and cherries as he poured it into a goblet eased the creases from his forehead. The doorbell chimed.
He walked into the hallway, glass in hand, and checked the screen of the video entry system. The camera looked down upon a head of dark, glossy hair. She was fiddling with her nails. Suddenly she turned and stared straight at the camera.
He actually jumped back slightly, almost as if he’d been caught spying. She gave the camera a saucy wink. It took him a good few seconds before he remembered to press the button, and the buzzer sounded long after she’d disappeared inside.
He swung his front door open and waited for her, heart thumping.
Calm. Calm.
Never lose your cool in front of a woman, remember? Who was he kidding? His cool had run screaming from the room the first time he’d laid eyes on Serena, and he hadn’t found its hiding place yet. Still, better not to let her know that.
He held the glass out to her as she rounded the corner. ‘Perfect timing.’
She took it and glided past him into the flat. ‘That’s what I like,’ she said, and stopped to take a sip. ‘A man who knows what I need even before I do.’
Jake took a little bow.
A naughty grin spread across her face. ‘I’m getting a little 1950s flashback here. Shouldn’t I be saying, Hi, honey. I’m home?’
‘Not if you don’t actually live here.’
She ignored him and waved the glass in his direction. ‘By rights, this should really be a martini and you—’ A finger lifted from the stem of her glass and jabbed the air. ‘You ought to be wearing a frilly apron.’
That was what he liked about her. She was always seeing things from a different angle. He pulled her close and kissed her ever so gently on the lips. When they pulled apart she whispered in his ear. ‘Actually, I think you’ll do quite nicely just as you are.’
He took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen.
‘Dinner smells nice. Where did you order from?’
‘Chez Jake. Do you know it?’
‘I’m not falling for that one! Don’t you know that’s trick number five in the bachelor handbook on how to impress women? Order a good takeaway and pass it off as your own. And if I’m not mistaken …’ She edged over to the bin and popped the lid up with a flourish of her hands. ‘Ta-dah!’
The smug smile evaporated from her face as she looked down into the carton-free bin. Her eyebrows rose. ‘You mean you actually cooked it all by yourself? I am impressed!’
‘You haven’t tasted it yet.’
‘But you really cooked? For me?’
‘Yes, I really did.’
A softness glittered in her eyes and she took a quick sip of her wine. When she looked up again it was gone.
He stirred the bubbling sauce. ‘Would you take the wine and the glasses through to the dining room for me? It’s just opposite.’
Serena hesitated, then walked over and gave him a feather-light peck on the cheek.
‘Thank you, Jake.’
He stopped stirring and frowned. Thank you for what? It was only dinner.
Serena placed the glasses on coasters and surveyed the bone china plates, silver cutlery and elegant wine flutes that were laid ready on the table. Long-stemmed candlesticks flanked an arrangement of fresh flowers in the centre. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a man would pamper her so. Jake must be really serious about her. The ramifications of that thought made her heart skip a little faster.
The most she’d ever got from a boyfriend before was a packet of peanuts thrown across the pub table after he’d been to the bar. In her experience, musicians who knew she had a rich father didn’t bother frittering their hard-earned cash on her—quite the opposite. But it wasn’t the quality of Jake’s chinaware that impressed her. It had taken time and careful thought to create all this—just for her. It
