Page 33 of Butterfly

“I’m not going to do it.” A throb starts in my temples.

“Good.” Martin gives me a curt nod. He orders a cab, pacing next to the car. “Don’t let Vance decide for you,” he says, putting his phone away. “And between you and me, I’m not fond of Rebecca’s work. She’s a great director, but I don’t know. There’s something about her that doesn’t convince me.”

If you only knew. “I should find another manager.”

“Why are you stuck with him, anyway?”

I close the car door so that Dart doesn’t get cold. “He’s been with me since the beginning. I owe him—”

“Nothing.” He points his finger at me. “He did his job. You did yours. If you need to move on from him, you don’t have to feel guilty. Do what’s best for you and your career. Not for him.”

“Thanks, mate.” I squeeze his arm.

A cab stops at the kerb, and Martin lifts a hand. “See you.” He waves at Sienna as she walks over to us, carrying the bag of drugs. He climbs into the car and leaves, and I’m alone with Sienna.

She double-checks Dart before handing me the bag. “Let me know if something, anything, happens to him.”

I take the bag. “You’re coming this evening, right?” Maybe I’m staring at her with too much intensity because she worries at her bottom lip, but nods. A world of relief swirls in that tiny movement of her head.

“Trust me; I’ll be there.”

This is the second time I’ve been told to trust her. “Later then.”

~ * ~

I CAN’T GET Sienna out of my mind.

A nervous tingle keeps nagging at the back of my neck as the irrational thought that I’m not going to see her again torments me. It’s not only the fact that after our kiss I want to see her. It’s that she saved my dog and didn’t want to be paid, so I owe her a big one. I want to do something for her to thank her, and given her previous disappearing tricks, I’m worried she won’t let me. Do I have the right to feel robbed of something by her behaviour? Not sure, but here I am, wishing she would let me satisfy my blasted white-knight syndrome. The truth is she woke something inside me, a need to take care of her, to protect her, but she doesn’t want to be taken care of.

I lie down next to Dart in my sitting room. The flames in the fireplace sizzle, and the scent of burning wood thickens the air. The dim light makes the room seem bigger and more cavernous than it is. But no sense of loneliness washes over me. My phone is on silent. My laptop is turned off. It’s just my recovering dog and me. I stroke Dart’s fur as he drifts in and out of sleep, but in my mind, I’m in a small room that smells of disinfectant, kissing a shy girl. I texted her my address, and she texted back. Good sign. At least she’s answering me. While I’m ignoring Vance’s calls.

I close my eyes as Dart breathes on my neck.

I must’ve dozed off because now the sun is dipping behind the clouds. My phone vibrates with Sienna’s text. She’s here, waiting for me to let her in. My heart leaps to my throat as I press the button to open the front gate. Dart lifts his head, blinking, one ear up, the other down.

“Nothing to worry about, mate.” I hope so.

My feet can’t keep still as I wait for her to park the car and exit it. I’m temporarily distracted by the way her black yoga leggings hug her shapely legs, and her tight top enhances the curve of her breasts. She strolls along the driveway to my front door, gazing at the sycamore trees bordering the garden.

“Hi.” She pauses before taking the last steps. Unease rings loudly in the single word.

“Thank you for coming.” Because I wasn’t sure you would have come. I hold the door open for her.

“Of course.” Her arm touches mine when she brushes past me. “Amazing house.” She keeps her leather bag in front of her, like a shield. “It doesn’t look like London. I mean, the noise of the traffic is barely audible with all those trees around, like Martin’s mansion.”

“It’s pretty secluded.” Actually, it’s not. We’re in the middle of Belgravia, but in a cul-de-sac with other large houses surrounded by gardens. No flats cramped together in an alleyway.

“How’s Dart?” She follows me through the hallway and into the sitting room, almost tiptoeing on the wooden floor.

“Tired, but more active than this morning. He ate a little.”

“Great.”

Dart wags his tail as she enters the room. He’s stretched out in front of the fireplace but tries to stand up when she comes closer to him.

“Oh, you still like me.” She crouches next to him and strokes his ear. “Even though I cut you up.”

“But stitched him afterwards.” I sit next to her, inhaling her scent like a freaking addict.

---