Page 77 of Slow Burn Summer

She panicked at the thought of Liv seeing all this, and messaged Nish to tell him to throw her mobile in the pool if necessary. He came back with the welcome news that Liv had put herself on a social media ban at his suggestion, and she was currently in the pool with the kids. He was too kind to be intentionally short or want to make her feel unnecessary, but something in his words left her feeling unbearably lonely.

—

Balaclava man didn’t turn upon Sunday. Whether it was because the shop was closed or he’d had a skinful the night before, she didn’t know, but whatever the reason for his absence, Kate’s relief was immense. She’d crouched behind the counter from sixa.m. till eight, her stomach in knots and her eyes nailed to the door, then afterward crawled back upstairs to bed and pulled the covers over her head until midday.

Richard’s knife between her ribs had upset her more than she cared to admit. Not because she still harbored feelings for him, but because their shared history obviously meant nothing to him, and he’d certainly not shown her any respect as the mother of his child, even though he was at pains to suggest otherwise. It probably wouldn’t have cut so deep if everything else around her was peachy, but as it was, it felt like another kick in the teeth. The rate she was going, she’d need to ask Richard for his Turkish dentist’s number.

Knowing Liv was safely out of the way for nine days more was a temporary relief, but also a ticking clock. There was anoutside chance balaclava man wouldn’t come back again, and an outside chance that the book being published in the United States wouldn’t increase the scrutiny around her too much, and an outside chance that Liv would come back from Portugal and not be pulled straight back into the drama.

But Kate wasn’t a gambling woman. Outside chances weren’t enough to bet the house on. She couldn’t leave Liv and the baby’s safety in the hands of fate. She needed a plan.

46

“Good to have you back,”Charlie said, after tapping on Fiona’s office door with his morning coffee in his hand. He’d arrived back in London late the night before; it was the first time they’d both been in the office since her trip away.

“Don’t bother with pleasantries unless that coffee is for me.”

The Caribbean sun might have warmed her usual pallor, but it had clearly done nothing to soften her approach. That was fine, because Charlie had some straight-talking of his own to do. He considered giving her his coffee, but instead turned to Felicity on reception and asked if she’d mind bringing another cup through when she had a moment.

Fiona made a point of checking her slim gold wristwatch. “We might need to reschedule this catch-up meeting to later,” she said.

He didn’t wait to hear why. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he said. “I’ve got an appointment this afternoon.”

“Not in the diary,” she said, arching her penciled brows.

He swallowed his annoyance. Fiona rarely bothered to keep him abreast of her schedule yet kept a keen eye on his.

“We need to talk about Kate,” he said, stepping into the office and taking the seat opposite hers.

She made a show of slowly screwing the lid on her pen and placing it down in a ceramic pen tray on her desk. His gaze snagged on the tray. Deep blue marbled with lava orange.

“Indeed,” she said, looking at him over the top of her glasses.

They paused while Felicity came in and set Fiona’s coffee down, waiting until the door clicked to pick the conversation up.

“I have concerns about the way things are being handled,” he said.

Fiona’s expression flickered, a micro-tell of annoyance, gone as soon as it was there. “I spent time with her U.S. publisher a few weeks ago. They want her out there to do a raft of media interviews. She flies on Friday.”

He put his coffee down and stared across the desk. “You’re not serious.”

She glared straight back. “I’m deadly serious. The backstory around the publication has becomethestory that’s selling the book. They’ve paid big money to get their slice of the action and they want her out there to fulfill her contractual obligations, which in this case means national TV and radio slots to apologize for things in her own inimitable way, without revealing Hugh’s identity, of course. God knows the woman is fond of her own voice, never one to use three words when three hundred will do—it’s right in her wheelhouse, and for some unfathomable reason, she sells copies.”

Fiona picked up her coffee cup, indicating the conversation was over as far as she was concerned.

“There’s absolutely no way on this earth Kate is going to the U.S. or anywhere else to do some goddam hideous apology tour.” Charlie banged his hand on the desk in temper. “She’s taken too much heat because of all this already, not to mention the detrimental effect on her family. It was always an experiment, Fi, andhowever successful it’s been in terms of sales, it’s not sustainable on a personal level for Kate.”

“Business strategy isn’t personal,” Fiona said, then sighed and slid her glasses down their golden chain, headmistress to pupil. “Charles, can I respectfully suggest you take a couple of steps back from the situation and let me handle things from here on in? You’ve allowed yourself to become rather too…embroiled.”

“Respectfully, Fiona, you’re overstepping the mark,” he said.

Her eyebrows fired up into her rigid hairline.

“I’m not sure I’ve made myself properly clear, so for the purpose of clarity, let me speak plainly,” he said. “Kate is my client, not yours, which means you don’t get to make the decisions about what she does and doesn’t have to do.”

Fiona sipped her coffee, unaffected. “It’s all there in the contract.”

Charlie knew Kate’s contract inside out and, technically, Fiona was right. He had one more ace to play, though, and now was the moment to show his hand.

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