Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,59

tricks?”

Simon glanced off screen. “Don’t you mean how’s Leia?”

Oh, mate! She’s right there?! Tarquin’s heart kicked against his ribs as he held back a breath. Bollocks. His cringe twisted into a sheepish smile. “Oh, hey, Leia—”

Simon tilted his phone, the picture zooming over the woman sat to his right wearing a frilly blouse and a blank facial expression. “It’s a mannequin, silly.”

A hard exhale pushed through Tarquin’s lips. “Well, I couldn’t tell.”

Simon’s live feed shifted back to his face again, and his fake friend left the conversation. “Leia’s out running errands, and yes, I know.”

Fuck. “Erm…she told you?” Tarquin veered into the narrow alley between the pub and a fish and chips shop, trading the sun and most of the street noise for the reek of grease and rotting haddock wafting from a small dumpster. Jesus, that’s rank! “Gimme a moment.” He grimaced and held his phone aloft, squeezing past the overflowing bin, putting distance between himself and the stench. “Sorry…” His stare returned to the screen as he rested his hard hat upside down on the dented lid of a recycling bin. “What did she say?”

“A week has passed and you haven’t heard from her.” Simon smirked. “So, how does it feel, eh, Tarq? Being the one waiting, wondering, thinking why hasn’t she called?”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Tarquin nodded, an anxious chuckle behind his tight lips. “Look, mate, just put me out of my misery. If she’s said something—”

“She didn’t.”

She didn’t mention me? That can’t be good, either.

“I asked about her weekend and she got tongue-tied, so I put two and two together…her blush pretty much confirmed it.”

“And? What did she say?”

Simon laughed like he was reveling in every minute, torturing his friend. “I think it’s great. Two of my friends hooking up, enjoying each other’s company.”

“So, she enjoyed herself? I wasn’t sure.”

Simon took a long sip from a colorful juice and shook his head. “Tarq, you of all people couldn’t, you know, tell…?”

“Of course I could tell! I know she…” Unless she faked it? He pressed his lips together. “What I mean is, I’m not sure she wants to see me again. I drove her home after, but she was quiet, seemed lost in thought.” He glanced down the graffiti-sprayed alley, spotting a rat eating something from a discarded Styrofoam container. A frown soured his expression as he shuffled sideways back toward the smelly bins, leaving the rodent to dine in peace. “Hopefully, she wasn’t having regrets.”

“Oh, I didn’t get that impression.” Simon hid his grin behind a sip of a bright red juice.

“Did she say she wasn’t?”

“She didn’t say a whole lot, okay? But she did say she ‘had fun’,” said Simon.

His face pinched.

“Tarq, stop doing a Freddie! Don’t overanalyze it! From what I’ve seen, Leia values her privacy, so if I were you, I wouldn’t take it personally if she’s hesitant to open up. She said she had a good time, so stop worrying. And for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been out with anyone since.”

Thank Christ. Tarquin blew out a breath. That ‘sex with other people’ thing was doing my head in.

“In fact, she hasn’t been out full stop—not with her sister, not with me, no one.”

“Really? Why?”

“She got a last-minute commission—a red carpet gown. Funnily enough, it’s for a client going to Mark’s New York premiere of A Promise Unspoken.”

Erghhh. Must everything come back to Keegan? Tarquin forced a grin. “Wow, small world. Is Mark going?”

“No, his play here doesn’t end until mid-April, and the film premiere is late March. Leia’s been laser-focused, traveling around sourcing material and draping fabric day and night. Two mornings last week, I woke up and found her face down, asleep on my work table.”

“Blimey. She slept there?”

Simon nodded. “She’s skipping meals, doing whatever it takes to get the job done. But two days ago, she trashed everything—started over from scratch. She was cursing a blue streak, pulling out pins and stitches, swearing at Liam.”

Bollocks. There’s a guy? The pungent stench from the dumpster, the breezy mention of another guy…Tarquin’s stomach rolled with nausea. “And Liam is…?”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Monsieur Balfour?”

A sour taste tormented his throat. “Si—”

“Relax! Liam is my spare sewing machine.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! The tension in his jaw let go as he chuckled. “You named your sewing machine?”

“Don’t judge! You named your car.”

“Yeah, because a gorgeous ’66 Alfa Romeo Spider deserves a name!”

“Millie? Yeah, that’s très sexy, Tarq.”

“I didn’t call it Millie! It’s the Millennium Falcon! Lucy calls