Page 33 of The Wake-Up Call

When I’m at work, I’m always giving a little extra, going a little further, being a little nicer. But I wouldn’t want to be any other way—Ilikebeing brilliant at my job. I like being the person who brings that sparkle. That’s how everyone sees me and that’s who I want to be.

If I’m completely honest, though, I do sometimes wish I could dial it down a notch and spend the day with unwashed hair and a bad attitude. Justsometimes. And it’s not like I really get much of a chance to do that outside of work, either—I’m always with people,and lately, since Jem, Grigg, and Sameera have moved away, those people aren’tmypeople. They’re not the people I can completely switch off with. I have to be nice, bouncy people-person Izzy all the time.

Except with Lucas, obviously.

Mandy leans across to answer the phone. “Hello, Forest Manor Hotel and Spa.” She glances at me. “No, Lucas isn’t here right now, but I can take a message?”

Poor Mandy writes something down in her usual, painstakingly slow fashion. Is this how people achieve neat handwriting? Not worth it, I say.

I bob up to read over her shoulder.

Call back about wedding ring. Urgent.And then a phone number.

Shit, shit, shit.

“I’ll take that to Lucas,” I say, swiping the note off the desk.

“Oh, thank you, dear!” calls Poor, innocent Mandy as I walk away.

•••••

All’s fair in love, war, and petty workplace feuding, right?

I tap the number Poor Mandy wrote into my phone and then crumple the note in my hand. I seem to have ended up in the spa. I was heading in the direction of the restaurant bin, but chucking the note away felt just a bit too unscrupulous. However, if it were to happen to get wet, and the number were to be lost until, say, I had managed to returnmyring first... After all, I’m so close. Graham will drop in any moment now to claim his wife’s lost ring.

I sidle towards the swimming pool, note in hand. The water slops and echoes in the still, thick air.

“What’s that?”

I spin around and my foot slips on the wet floor. For an awful,teetering moment, I think I’m in danger of falling on my arse on the tiles in front of Lucas da Silva, as if the universe has decided I have not humiliated myself enough in front of this man. I right myself just in time. He folds his arms and a smile tugs at his lips.

I’m still clutching the note.

“It’s just... a thing,” I say, then pull a face at myself. “It’s a thing Mandy gave me,” I go on, rallying. “Not important.”

“Is that why you were holding it over the swimming pool?”

I look at his face—all smugness and chiselled jaw—and I narrow my eyes.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were. Almost.” He holds his hand out. “Mandy said you had a note for me.”

“Ugh. Fine. But I wasn’t going to drop it in the pool.” I hand it to him; then, without much grace, I add: “Probably.”

“Playing dirty,” Lucas says. “Isn’t that what that’s called?”

I flush. “It’s called playing to win,” I say, marching past him.

His broad shoulders take up so muchspace. I circle by on the pool side, and then, because I’m angry and in a bad mood, and maybe—just a little bit—because I want to see what he’ll do if we touch, I pass too close. But he moves at the same moment, leaning ever so slightly my way, as though he had the same idea. And I go glancing off him and...

“Shit!” I splutter.

... right into the pool. The shock of the fall leaves me gasping. I gulp for air, treading water, mascara stinging in my eyes.

“You arsehole!” I shout. “You just pushed me in the pool!”

“I did not,” he says, crouching down and reaching a hand to help me out. He tucks the note into his back pocket with his other hand, and as anger surges through me, as my sodden clothes drag at my limbs, I have an idea.

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