Red After Dark (Blackwood Security #13) - Elise Noble Page 0,41
what last night’s film was, who was in it, or anything about the plot.
I gave “my” second horse a pat and led him back to the barn. Chaucer would love it here—he was a big fan of summer, always seeking out the sun, and the acres of pastures would be his idea of heaven. But we didn’t have this much space in England. Everything was smaller.
I was just shutting the stall door when my phone rang. Alaric?
No, Gemma.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I asked.
What time was it in London? Nine p.m.?
“Good, I think. Better than last week. I still… I can’t believe…”
“That part of your life’s done now. It’s okay to move on.”
“Move on? Are you serious? I’m staying single forever. I’m totally not cut out for dating.”
“I didn’t mean dating. Just finding new friends.” What was that weird cry in the background? I had limited experience with children—unless you counted Piers—but it sounded almost like a baby. “What’s that noise?”
“Uh, Feather?”
Feather? Feather was Judd’s cat, a velvety grey British shorthair who wore a perpetual scowl and acted as if she owned the place.
“Gemma, where are you? I thought you were staying in my flat?”
“I was going to, but then Judd had to go to Switzerland for the weekend, and he asked if I’d stay to feed Feather, and she’s so cute…”
Fair enough—Alaric had mentioned Sirius’s previous PAs having to take care of Judd’s cat when he went away, and since I wasn’t in London, it was kind of Gemma to step in. But why did she seem so edgy?
“Are you okay?”
“Yes?”
She didn’t sound sure. But the small talk was Gemma’s way—whenever she didn’t want to say something, she’d beat around the bush for a while until she worked up the nerve. I’d left London too soon, hadn’t I? I should have stayed to support her. Four thousand miles away, all I could do was talk.
“It’s Wednesday. Is Judd still away?”
“Uh, no. He came back.”
Please, say she hadn’t…
“Gemma, you literally said two seconds ago that you’d sworn off men.”
“And I have. He’s just…just…”
A lunatic? Emmy’s earlier words echoed in my head. Dammit, I wished I’d been able to hear the rest of that conversation.
“He’s just nice. Honestly, that’s all.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“And I’m worried about you.”
“With Alaric? There’s really no need.”
Gemma gave a little giggle, and I was glad to hear it. Perhaps things weren’t as bad as I’d feared?
“Oh, no, I’m not worried about Alaric. Like, he’s the gay best friend every girl wants. I meant with all the stuff in America. Judd said the people Alaric’s after aren’t very nice.”
I’m sorry. What?
“Back up a bit. What did you just say?”
“The painting thing—Judd said the people who took it could be dangerous. I haven’t seen any more dodgy art at the gallery, in case you were wondering. Hugo’s had a cold the whole week, so he’s been moping around and complaining instead of working.”
“No, I meant the part about Alaric being gay?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Well, I don’t think he is.” He definitely knew how to please a woman.
“Really? But I heard him…you know…with Ravi.”
“What?” Was she serious? “When?”
“The first night I was at Judd’s place.”
“You must have been mistaken.”
Although hadn’t Emmy also thought Ravi batted for the other team?
“No, I don’t think so. When we walked past the bedroom door, I could hear…uh…”
“Gemma…”
“Balls on flesh, okay? It’s quite a distinctive sound. And Judd, he just chuckled and said that Ravi and Alaric were up to their old shenanigans again.”
Alaric and Ravi? My knees gave way, and I slumped onto a hay bale. I felt sick. No, not at the thought of that. Rather, at the loss of a man I’d never truly had. I… I really, really liked Alaric, yes, in that way, even if I’d been in attempted denial. The big speech in England he’d made, the one where he’d told me he wasn’t worth it… I’d thought that if I just stuck around long enough and showed him that he was, maybe things could be different. His words replayed in my mind. I live in the shadows, Beth. I’m no Prince Charming. And I’m not the kind of man you throw your entire future away for. It’s only a job. Had he been talking about himself as relationship material? Or merely as an employer? I’d believed it was the former. At least, I’d wanted to believe it. But what if I’d been wrong?
Another memory popped into my head, of Alaric telling me he wasn’t in the market for