Page 70 of A Secret Escape

If you’re free tomorrow, I’m ready to climb into the back of your van.

No. She couldn’t say that. It sounded awful.

She deleted it and started again.

Needed: one getaway driver. Tomorrow?

She sent it before she could change her mind and then waited a few breathless seconds before the reply came.

Sorry, but who is this?

She froze, and then another message came immediately.

Just kidding. Tomorrow works. 6:30 a.m.?

She felt a rush of relief and elation, and also a flicker of frustration with herself. She was so jumpy and on edge the whole time she no longer recognized a joke when she saw one.

But it was done now. She was going to leave Forest Nest for the first time since she’d arrived. And she was going to have to hope it didn’t go horribly wrong.

Chapter18Milly

Milly stepped out of Brendan’s sports car and grabbed the skirt of her dress before the breeze could catch it and expose the underwear Nicole had insisted that she wear. (Why? There was no way she was ready to show another person her underwear.) It had been years since she’d worn this dress, and she’d forgotten how flimsy it was. Still, it had given her a quiet confidence boost, and she was grateful to Nicole for insisting she try it on. Less grateful for her friend’s insistence that she wear the shoes.

All she’d done so far was walk to the car, but already they were biting into her feet. What had possessed her to buy them in the first place? They’d been purchased for a wedding, and she recalled dancing barefoot at that same wedding, which presumably meant she’d found them unwearable after the first few hours.

She silently cursed Nicole as she walked with Brendan to the restaurant, trying not to twist her ankle. She wore flats or trainers when she was working and walking in heels felt strange and unsafe. If this was what Nicole had to endure each time she appeared on a red carpet, then she felt sorry for her.

Fortunately, she made it inside without drama or mishap, and they were shown to a table on the terrace. It had an uninterrupted view of the lake and beyond to the craggy fells in the distance.

And when she glanced around her at the other diners, she was glad Nicole had made her wear the dress. It had been the right choice.

And Brendan looked good too, although it crossed her very undisciplined mind that he’d looked equally good fresh out of the shower, wearing just shorts.

Tonight he was wearing a pair of chinos and a pale blue shirt the same shade as his eyes. Of course, deciding what to wear was easier for men, particularly when it came to shoes.

She was willing to bet his footwear wasn’t testing the level of his pain threshold.

She was looking forward to sitting down so that she could give her feet a break.

“This is incredible. I had no idea this terrace existed.” In her opinion the restaurant had earned its reputation, and that was before she sampled the food. “How on earth did you get a table here at such short notice? Who did you bribe?”

“No one. I called and told them I needed a table for a special celebration. Turns out the chef is a fan. This table cost me an entire set of signed copies, and the promise that his name will appear in my next book.”

She laughed. “So does that mean that the murder victim is no longer called Callum?”

“He’s still Callum. But somewhere in there I have to introduce a chef. This table is okay for you? You’re happy being outdoors?”

“It’s perfect.” She settled herself in her seat, slid off her shoes with a quiet sigh of relief and gazed at the view. The surface of the lake sparkled in the late evening sunshine and a few sheep were grazing close to the shoreline. “I’ve read brilliant things about this place.”

She glanced around her, taking a proper look at their fellow diners.Their table was surely the best in the restaurant, tucked into a corner away from the rest of the guests. The terrace was strung with miniature lanterns, and candles flickered in the center of each table. It was the sort of place that stayed in the memory of the people who were lucky enough to eat here.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t be forgetting it in a hurry either.

She’d been worried she wouldn’t know what to say or what to do because it had been so long since she’d had dinner with a man who wasn’t Richard, but Brendan seemed so comfortable and relaxed she found herself relaxing too.

“You and Richard didn’t eat out much?”

“Generally I cooked.” He always said he preferred her food, but now she wondered if he was just saving money that he’d then spent on Avery.

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