Page 164 of The Black Trilogy

On Monday he’d ventured into the office, only to spend more time on Google than corporate affairs. Ashlyn Hale, Ash Hale, Emmy Hale, Emily Hale… He’d searched every possible permutation, but nothing relevant came up for any of them. After making a fool of himself in his first meeting because he couldn’t remember key details of his own product, he’d dragged an intern to the next to take notes for him. Notes he still hadn’t read. And worse, when he’d ventured to the break room to fetch a cup of tea, he’d interrupted a cluster of red-faced employees around the water cooler, whispering about his mental state.

“I’m going to work from home for the rest of the week,” he told his secretary after that. “Call me if anything important comes up.”

So, there he was, lying on the sofa at three in the afternoon, wearing the same pair of jeans and T-shirt he’d slept in for the past four nights. Evidence of the two king-sized Snickers bars and family-sized bag of crisps he’d eaten for lunch lay discarded on the floor beside him, and he’d absentmindedly watched four back-to-back episodes of The Jeremy Kyle Show.

Still, at least his beard was coming along nicely.

He picked up his can of beer and took a long gulp. Why stick to soft drinks when he planned to stay at home for the entire day? Arabella’s mother was picking the girls up, which meant Luke didn’t need to move until tomorrow morning.

Mental note: remind his housekeeper to buy another bottle of whisky.

Since the kidnapping, Luke had been holding onto a thread of hope that Ash would get in touch, but now that was all but frayed through.

“Anything from Ash?” Tia still asked every day, but her voice was devoid of its initial optimism.

“No, nothing.”

As the days wore on, Luke’s hurt turned to confusion. Why had Ash left England so fast? Sure, he’d yelled at her, but he thought they’d got past that during their days in London. Yes, she’d been distant, but she hadn’t blanked him like one ex did when he’d accidentally spelled her name wrong in her birthday card. Who spelled Jessica with a Y in it? No, Ash hadn’t borne an obvious grudge. And didn’t all couples have arguments? If they could only talk, he’d apologise for whatever he’d done, she could explain why she hadn’t told the truth, and maybe they’d have a chance at a future together. All she needed to do was come back.

He shifted on the sofa because one butt cheek had gone to sleep. Perhaps he should invest in more comfortable furniture? One of those massage chairs or something, as long as he could order it off the internet.

Groaning, Luke blew out a long breath. Hadn’t Ash felt the same way he did? In his head, he’d started planning a future with her by his side, one filled with love and laughter. Despite their different backgrounds, they’d clicked. But maybe they’d just been too different? Him, a millionaire with a crazy work ethic and a love of extreme sports, and her, the housewife turned stable girl who led a quiet life. Or so he’d thought.

What good was his money now? All those millions couldn’t buy the normality he craved. Once, the status quo had meant flaunting a piece of arm candy that cost him plenty in clothes and jewellery but not much in terms of emotional involvement. Then Ash came along and he discovered the joy of companionship. Having someone to come home to each evening sure beat the parade of insipid socialites. But it had to be the right “someone.”

Wow, this was all getting a bit too Sigmund Freud for a weekday.

The door slammed, breaking him out of his melancholy. Thirty seconds later, Tia arrived in front of him, hands on hips.

“Have you been lying there all day?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“It’s not even five o’clock, and you’re already on your fourth can of beer. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“No, you’re right.” He glanced at his watch for confirmation. “It’s time I switched to wine. Can you bring me a bottle from the kitchen?”

“No, I can’t! You need to get up and start acting normal again. You’ve been lying there for weeks eating rubbish and getting drunk. The gym’s got cobwebs, and you stink.”

Her mouth set in a hard line, and she glared at him.

“Okay, I’ll get my own wine.”

Tia whirled away and clomped up the stairs to her bedroom.

What was normal anymore?

The next afternoon, Luke rolled over on the sofa, accidentally squashing a packet of biscuits. Sheesh, they’d spilled out and melted onto the cushion. At least the dark chocolate matched the leather. He briefly considered clearing up, but soon forgot the mess as a particularly enthralling episode of Bargain Hunt distracted him. Who knew somebody would pay so much for an ugly porcelain cow?

Five o’clock, and the click of Tia’s key in the front door made him glance over at the coffee table. He’d run out of beer again. Would she bring him a drink tonight, or was she determined to stick with the holier-than-thou attitude?

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, stopping outside the door.

“He’s in there,” Tia said.

A few seconds later, the door to the den was pushed open and a shadow fell over Luke. Uh oh. Tia had brought reinforcements in the form of Arabella’s brother, Mark, and another friend of theirs, Rob.

“Good grief, mate,” Mark said. “Tia warned you’d turned into a slob, but I didn’t think it’d be this bad. Your jeans could stand up on their own. And what’s with the beard?”

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