Page 78 of Slow Burn Summer

“How does Hugh feel about your plan to send Kate to scrape and grovel on American TV?” he said, watching her reaction carefully.

She lifted one shoulder, her shoulder pad skimming her earlobe. “You know perfectly well that Hugh doesn’t wish to have any involvement.”

“So he doesn’t know,” Charlie said, flat.

Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “He’s away and uncontactable.”

“As far as I’m aware, they have excellent mobile signal in Spain.”

She leaned in, a crack finally appearing in her armor. “Leave Hugh out of this, he needs a break.”

“As long as you leave Kate alone, because she needs one too.”

Fiona stared at him, shaking her head with disappointment. “Jojo would have handled this very differently.”

Charlie had had just about enough of having his father’s memory held over him.

“Leave my father out of this,” he said, shaking his head. “You know, Fiona, I’ve worried since he died that I don’t have his famous gut instinct, but thanks to you, I know I do. Something about this whole experiment hasn’t sat well with me since day one, and now, finally, I see what it is—it didn’t take human unpredictability into account. The arrangement protected everyone but Kate, and now the shit has hit the fan, you’re happy to hang her out to dry for financial gain, to ask her to publicly humiliate herself over and over again on international TV for the sake of sales. Muriel Blackstock was right—an AI ghost authorwouldhave been a better option, because real people are messy. Sometimes they screw up, and sometimes they say the wrong thing, and sometimes they put everyone else’s needs in front of their own until they practically disappear.”

Charlie paused for breath, and Fiona didn’t take the chance to jump in.

“And you’re right, with the benefit of his experience my fatherwouldhave foreseen all of the things that could possibly go wrong, and he’d never have allowed Kate to sign that damn contract in the first place. But then you knew that all along, didn’t you?”

Fiona folded her arms and put her head on one side. Her silence told him everything he needed to know.

“Cancel the U.S. tour, Fiona. Kate has nothing to apologize for and she isn’t going anywhere.” He pushed his chair back and left her office, and for once Fiona didn’t insist on the last word.

47

Balaclava man returned again thatmorning. Kate had dared hope it was over after his absence the day before, but her heart dropped into her trainers when she came downstairs at a little after seven to find he’d already been and sabotaged the front door.

As she’d cleared away the mess, Kate considered whether it was time to involve the police; she couldn’t allow this abuse to go on indefinitely. Balaclava man might eventually get bored and stop, but then again he might get frustrated by her lack of response and escalate his behavior. A brick instead of a trifle, perhaps, or something worse.

She flicked through the latest pictures from Portugal, her heart full at the sight of them all looking so relaxed. Sandy toes and sunburned noses, a shot of all of them pointing at Liv’s belly, her hands pressed over her face as she laughed. The thought of her sister walking back into trouble turned her blood cold.

—

“Did someone order lunch?”

She looked up as Charlie came through the shop door with a brown paper bag in his hand a little after midday. His latest text had let her know he was back in the country, but he hadn’tmentioned coming over. She tried not to notice his deepened L.A. tan, and she didn’t love the way her body reacted to the unexpectedness of him being there. The quickening of her breath, the warm flush on her neck.

“Depends what it is,” she said.

He placed the bag on the counter in front of her.

“How have you been?” he asked.

She lifted one shoulder. “Busy. Liv’s on holiday so I’m minding the shop for her.”

He nodded. “You look tired.”

The truth about what had been happening hovered in her throat, desperate to spill out. “How was L.A.?”

His jaw tightened. “Same as it always is.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been beyond Europe.” She knew she was being obtuse, and she didn’t like herself for it.

“I came to tell you that you won’t be asked to have any further involvement with the book. No one is going to lean on you for interviews or appearances.”

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