The Closer You Get - Mary Torjussen Page 0,27

impulse I bought a few packets of cat food from the corner shop. I took a couple of foil containers from my kitchen and filled one with water, the other with food. I knew I shouldn’t feed a stray cat; it would think it belonged to me, but I couldn’t bear to think of it hungry. I took the containers down to the lamppost outside my house and watched from the doorway as the cat devoured the food.

It looked desperate. I recognized that look. It was how I felt, too.

CHAPTER 14

Ruby

Back in the flat, I charged my phone and put on one of my favorite song lists. I dragged my suitcases into the bedroom and started to unpack. I had to shut out the memories of packing the week before, hastily cramming clothes into my bags, muttering my memorized list as I raced around gathering everything together. I remembered sitting on my cases to zip them shut, so excited for my future. That excitement had vanished now, oddly enough. I tried to forget my imagined future as I organized my clothes in piles on my bed: sweaters, shirts, jeans, dresses. There were hangers in the wardrobe and I was just about to hang the dresses up when the music stopped and my phone beeped.

Immediately I thought of Harry. Like a fool, I hurried over to check. Of course it wasn’t him. At that moment, though, it was the next-best thing: an e-mail about a job.

Dear Mrs. Dean,

Thanks for completing our online application form. Apologies for the e-mail rather than a phone call but I’m in a meeting and can’t talk at the moment.

I’m looking for a PA for the next few months and haven’t found anyone suitable through the agencies. I’m returning to my office in Boston in the New Year so I’m just looking for temporary cover until then.

I’ve got a busy week ahead and won’t be in my office until next Monday. I’m in Manchester at a conference today and wonder whether you could meet me there for a chat about the job? Details are below. I’ll book a meeting room but perhaps we could meet in the café at the front of the building at 2 p.m.?

Kind regards

Alan Walker

Managing Director

Immediately I brightened up. At last, a response and it was for a PA role, too. I replied at once, saying I’d be happy to meet him.

* * *

? ? ?

I drove to the conference center, panicking in case I was late. It was on the other side of Manchester and it took longer than I’d estimated to drive through the city traffic, but still I managed to get to the car park in good time. I had to park on the top floor. I hated multistory car parks, with their tight bends and tighter spaces to park, and I could feel the perspiration trickling down the back of my neck by the time I parked in an empty space.

As I arrived at the café, I looked at my watch. There was plenty of time; I was fifteen minutes early. I ordered coffee and sat in the window, just as we’d arranged, and took out my copy of the Times, so that he’d know it was me. I sent him an e-mail to say I was there. I felt like I was going on a blind date and for the first time I felt a bit uneasy.

I’d already checked the links he’d sent me but now I Googled his name. He was on LinkedIn and all his work and educational history were laid out in front of me. There was a photo, too; he was in his late fifties, quite attractive, with an engaging smile. He’d owned a small company for ten years, according to the bio there. I wondered why he was looking for a PA now, then remembered what he’d said about going back to the States. What would happen to his business then?

After half an hour, I was bored and starting to get a bit edgy. I forced myself to relax. I didn’t want to look annoyed when he did turn up. I spent a few minutes rereading my research into his company, then

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