Artful Lies (Hunt Legacy Duology #1) m- Jodi Ellen Malpas Page 0,62

I leave the room, clenching my eyes shut, hoping he doesn’t follow me. ‘Eleanor,’ he repeats, this time more urgently.

I increase my pace, but only make it halfway to the library before I hear footsteps coming after me. Taking a deep, confidence-boosting breath, I stop and turn, plastering a fake smile on my face.

Brent skids to a stop, frowning. ‘Are you okay?’

I look over his shoulder when Becker emerges slowly from his office and stares down the corridor at me. His hands are in his trouser pockets, his stance wide as he regards me with probing eyes. I break our eye contact before Brent notices that I’m distracted. ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ I chirp, straightening my shoulders. ‘Just busy.’ I don’t give him a chance to extend the conversation, turning on my heels and hurrying towards the library.

‘Tonight,’ Brent calls. ‘Dinner again?’

What the actual fuck? No, my head’s already twisting because of my sinful boss’s games. I’m not up for another round of Brent’s game, thank you very much. ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ I say. ‘Out with a friend.’ I swipe my card quickly and throw my weight into the door before closing it just as fast and collapsing against the back of it.

Shit.

So much for clearing the air.

Chapter 13

I’m ambushed by a very excitable Lucy as I climb the stairs to my flat, my feet aching, along with my brain for overthinking about . . . certain things. She has giant rollers in her hair and half a face of make-up on. ‘It’s six thirty,’ she screeches at me, hurrying over and taking my arm. ‘What’s taken you so long?’

‘Um, London rush hour,’ I answer, as I’m practically hauled down the corridor to my front door. ‘What’s the rush?’ Admitting to her that I could quite easily curl up on my couch in my jammies would be stupid. I know I won’t be allowed to do that tonight. She’s ready to paint the town red.

Taking my bag from my shoulder, she starts rummaging through it while I look on. ‘You have an hour,’ she tells me, dragging out my keys and opening the door for me. I accept my bag when she hands it back, then she pushes me through the door. ‘For your reference, I’m going with tits tonight.’

My brow furrows. ‘What?’

‘Tits.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘Not legs.’

‘Should this mean something?’

She sags on the spot, shaking her head. ‘Tits or legs, Eleanor. Never both.’ She grabs the handle and pulls the door shut. ‘An hour,’ she repeats before the wood comes between us and I’m alone.

I head for the shower but just before I get there, I hear my phone ping. I pick it up to find a message.

From my ex.

I damn my stomach for churning, and damn myself further for opening it.

Your mum is still refusing to tell me where you are, and you won’t answer my calls or messages. Just talk to me, please.

What part of we’re finished and I never want to see you again doesn’t he understand? I huff my disgust and make a quick call to Mum. Her voice is chirpy when she answers, and it doesn’t falter when I apologise for David’s persistence.

‘Don’t you worry about that,’ she says cheerfully. ‘It’s not hard to say no to him.’

I smile and settle on the couch. Although I was pretty much emotionless when I told Mum about David and Amy, she saw through that but knew I didn’t want sympathy. Anger, possibly. Sympathy, nope. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Never better.’ She wouldn’t say if it wasn’t, yet I know she’s doing well. The attentive close community of our village helps her, whereas it suffocated me. We chat for a while, her telling me about the gossip of home, which isn’t a lot, and me bringing her up to date on my new life in London. Well, most of it.

Apparently, David isn’t the only one who’s been sniffing around. ‘Amy stopped by,’ Mum says tentatively. ‘Asked how you are.’

‘That’s nice,’ I mutter, brushing off my mother’s reference to my ex-best friend. ‘Did you ask her how David is?’

Mum lets out a light laugh. ‘They both insist it was a stupid mistake. David wants you back.’

‘David can go swivel. Tell him that if he comes sniffing around again.’

‘Okay, darling,’ she replies, and I know she will.

‘Anyway, I’m out tonight with Lucy,’ I say, moving things along as I unfold my body from the sofa.

‘You must bring her home to meet me. She sounds like a doll.’

I don’t think Lucy will

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