Page 113 of Mafioso's Muse

Vaughn nodded once.

‘Where’s Willow?’

Vaughn glanced in the direction of the Star. ‘Inside.’

Finn followed his gaze. ‘You going back inside?’

‘No.’ Vaughn went and leaned against his Mercedes, pulling his cigarette case from his pocket.

Seeing that the plan was to wait for her, Finn retreated to the car.

For the next thirty minutes, Vaughn chain-smoked and watched the automatic doors in front of him. As tempting as it was to go searching for Willow, he knew waiting until she was ready to face the outside world was the right thing to do.

Eventually, the four board members exited the building, acknowledging him with a polite nod as they passed by. All except Caroline, who threw him a slightly wicked smile instead.

Nigel was next to appear, looking ten years older than before the hearing and in desperate need of some sleep. He stopped when he spotted Vaughn. The pair watched each other for a moment.

‘She’ll be down soon,’ Nigel said eventually. He offered a weary smile before shuffling away towards the car park.

Vaughn felt bad for the man. ‘Hey.’

Turning back to him, Nigel waited.

‘I’m sorry,’ Vaughn said.

‘For what?’

Vaughn tapped the ashes of his cigarette on the ground. ‘For everything you’ve lost.’

A slow blink was his only response.

‘You’ll get it all back,’ Vaughn assured him. ‘And it’ll be better than you can imagine.’

Nigel looked around. ‘I hope you’re right.’ He went to leave, then said, ‘I’m sorry too.’

Vaughn raised an eyebrow in question.

‘For believing them.’

Vaughn laughed through his nose, then took a drag of his cigarette. ‘I’ll see you around.’

Nigel waved before walking off down the street.

It was close to an hour before Willow finally emerged from the building. He was used to seeing her in leggings and T-shirts, but that day she wore wide-legged trousers, a cream silk shirt tucked into them, and a blue wool coat. A crossbody bag sat in place of her usual sports duffel. She looked taller in heeled boots.

Willow glanced around, and her gaze locked with his. For a moment, she didn’t move. Then she walked towards him, holding tightly to the strap of her bag as if it were the very thing holding her up. She stopped five feet from him, as though there was a boundary there he couldn’t see.

‘Hi.’ She sounded about as energetic as Nigel had.

Vaughn put out his cigarette, then straightened, respecting the space she’d put between them. ‘How are you doing?’

She shrugged and looked around. ‘Did they take him to the police station?’

‘They did.’ The smell of coffee drifted from a nearby cafe, mixing with the exhaust fumes of passing cars. It was an oddly pleasing combination. ‘You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.’

She touched the scar on her head. ‘Amazing what a shower and some stitches can do.’

His lips turned up briefly. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’

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