necessary. I drove Bethann’s car today.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I appreciate the fact that you are always giving me a ride but it seemed important to have my own way home.”
“Why is that?” he asked.
“Because I always want to invite you up to my place and that’s not a good idea, is it?”
Astrid didn’t regret her candor. They both knew the attraction between them was growing. There was nothing they could do about it.
“I think inviting me up is a fine idea. Why haven’t you?”
“Because you’re my boss, Henry,” she said. The night breeze was cool and a little crisp as she tipped her head back to stare up at the stars.
“Why is your name Henry?”
He laughed a soft sound. “It was my mum’s dad’s name. What about you, Astrid?”
“My mother got it from a book. Bethann was named after my mum’s mum and me … I get a name from a book,” she said.
“What book?”
“Pippi Longstocking. The author was Astrid Lindgren. My mum said she wanted me to have that passion for life that Pippi always had.”
Astrid looked back over at Henry to find him watching her with that unreadable expression of his. She was talking too much, she knew, but she was tired. Physically of course, because her body had yet to adjust to the night owl hours, but also tired of keeping parts of herself from Henry. She wanted him to know the woman she was. Wanted him to look at her and see the real woman.
“I like that. Your mum sounds like she knew what she was doing when she named you,” Henry said.
Astrid wasn’t certain about that. A part of her had always felt as though she had to live a larger life than her sister. Bethann was driven and always made the right choices. She had achieved more and accomplished great things, as opposed to Astrid, who was always starting over.
“I’m not so sure. But I do like where I am right now,” she said.
Henry grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together as they walked down the street to where he’d parked his car.
“Have you ever thought about what you’d name your children?”
Astrid felt a sting of tears at his question. And turned away from him.
“Astrid?”
She shook her head. “Probably after my parents. You?”
“I’ve always thought I’d name a son after Jonny Wilkinson, the great rugby player.”
“Better hope your wife likes the sport,” she said. She tried to keep her tone light, but she knew that children was never going to be an easy topic for her…. How had they taken this track?
Henry didn’t want to talk about kids; he’d never really thought much about them other than when his mum had given birth to his two younger half brothers. But there was a tone in Astrid’s voice that made him believe he should pursue this line. There was something more to the way she had answered his throwaway question.
“What are your parents’ names?” he asked.
“Spencer and Mary,” she said. “I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m not even sure how we ended up on this topic.”
He unlocked the passenger door of his car and helped her inside. He walked around to the driver’s side and sat behind the wheel for a minute before starting it.
“My mum contemplated naming me Mick after Mick Jagger, but in the end she said she wanted to name me after the man who always loved her.”
“That’s sweet,” Astrid said. She had to wonder how hard it was on Henry growing up the way he had. “Why did you play rugby? Wouldn’t it have been easier for you to try to be a musician?”
Then she covered her mouth with one hand as a thought occurred to her. “Or can’t you sing?”
“I can sing,” Henry said. “Not very well, but I can sing.”
“So why not music?”
“I’m a stubborn cuss,” he said, starting the car. “I didn’t want anyone to say I had anything given to me. I started playing rugby when I was eight. I’d already grown up in the glare of my mum’s spotlight and the infamous circumstances surrounding my birth…. If I achieved anything I wanted it to be on my own terms.”
He pulled out and started driving toward Astrid’s car. “Where are you parked?”
“Near Waterloo,” she said, giving him directions to the location.
“You were very wise to make that choice so young,” she said. “Bethann is like that. She’s a solicitor. Always knew she wanted to be one.”
“What about you?”
“I always knew I wanted to live in London,” she said with a little laugh. “I love the excitement of the city and being so close to everything.”
“Why don’t you live in town?”
“Well, Woking was all I could afford on my own and all my mates are married now. Anyways, that’s why I have a flat in Woking.”
“I meant how did you find your way to the music industry?” Henry pulled into the car park where she’d left her car.
“My car’s in the second level,” she said. “I took a job out of university as a receptionist. It was with Mo Rollins Group, and I just sort of worked my way up. The funny thing is the longer I worked there the more at home I felt.
“It’s that green Ford Fusion.”
He pulled up behind the car and she gathered her bag to get out. But he wasn’t ready to say good-night just yet.
“And now you’re working for me. Still like this industry?” he asked.
“After a night like tonight? You bet. I loved the raw sound of XSU and once you sign them it’ll be exciting to watch their transformation into a solid band.”
“I agree. I had thought of being a sports agent or a recruiter.”
“Why didn’t you? I remember that telly show you had a few years ago that featured child protégés of the sports world.”
“You do? Did you watch it?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” she admitted. “How did you get into doing that?”
“My mum knows all kinds of people in the entertainment industry and after my injury she started putting me in touch with them.”
“She sounds like she’s very helpful.”
Henry
