Page 70 of Fierce

Coming To An Agreement

I rang Hope on Sunday night and swallowed my frustration over the fatigue I heard in her voice, which I thought was pretty restrained of me. And then I didn’t see her on Monday, and I didn’t see her on Tuesday, either. Until I did.

I was walking into O’Doul’s, the Irish bar in the lobby of the building next door to the office, with Vanessa and Vivienne Farnell when it happened. Because there, sitting in a back corner, was Hope. And some bloke.

No, not some bloke. A bloke of about her own age, every inch the perfectly groomed metrosexual, and every bit focused on her. I stopped in my tracks as she put her elbow on the table, shoved a hand into her hair and laughed, then gave him a smack on the arm, exactly as she’d done with me on the roof. As he laughed back at her, every intention perfectly clear.

I forgot all about Vanessa and Vivienne. I was headed straight over to that table, and I could almost hear the click when Hope noticed me. Her eyes widened over the wine glass she’d lifted to her lips, and she was setting it down again without drinking. Looking flustered, as she bloody well might.

“Hemi.” Her hand went straight to the hair that had been mussed up during her little exhibition, began smoothing over it as if that would make me forget what I’d seen. “I mean—” She shot a look at the bloke. “Mr. Te Mana.”

The bloke was standing now. “Hello,” he said. “Uh—I’m Nathan Forrest.”

I finally looked at him. I didn’t grab him, which took some major self-control. “Excuse us.”

“What? Oh. Uh—I’ll just—”

I didn’t listen to the rest of it. He was gone, that was all I cared about. And I was telling Hope, “Let’s go. Now.”

“What are you doing?” She was standing up now as well.

“No,” I said. “What are you doing?”

She took a breath, and to my fury, she was looking narky now. “I’m having a glass of wine with my coworker.”

Her eyes widened, slid to the side, and I glanced over, saw Vivienne and Vanessa, said, “One moment, please,” and turned back to Hope. “You’re leaving.”

“No.”

“No? No?”

“I mean it, Hemi. No. So—so not all right.”

Her breasts were rising and falling under that turquoise blouse and cutaway gray sweater. It was the same outfit she’d been wearing when she’d slapped my face. The same outfit that had had me staring at her in exactly the way the bloke had been staring just now.

It seemed she could tell what I was feeling, because she said it again. “No. Not here. Call me later. You’ve got this all wrong. But…” Her gaze shifted again to our audience. “We can’t do it now.”

She sat down, picked up her wine glass, and swallowed a mouthful, though I could see her hand was shaking. And there was nothing I could do short of dragging her out by the arm, which was what I wanted to do. Never mind the fool I’d look, though—it was what Hope would do if I tried that was stopping me. So I left her there. I saw the bloke, who’d been loitering around the bar, drifting back to the table. And I sat down with Vanessa and Vivienne all the same.

“Sorry,” I said, trying to yank myself back under control again. “A personnel issue. Where were we?”

“I think,” Vanessa said, “you were about to buy us a drink. And let me just say...” She exchanged a glance with her sister. “I didn’t think that’s what it was called.”

“Does this mean our threesome’s off?” Vivienne, the outrageous one, drawled.

“Business,” Vanessa said, frowning at her sister.

“Oh, honey,” Vivienne said, “I’m all about the business.”

Maybe the office would’ve been a better place for this meeting. I tried not to turn my head, and I didn’t succeed a bit. I saw Hope standing up, shrugging into her coat, saying something to the fella, and leaving the bar. And I stood up myself.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll ring you tomorrow. Something urgent has come up, I’m afraid.”

“I knew it,” Vivienne sighed, but I barely heard her. I was already gone.

I could have ignored him. I could have sat there with Nathan and had another glass of wine. Except that I didn’t want to play games, and I didn’t want to talk to Nathan. I just wanted to go home.

“Oh-kay,” Nathan said when he’d sat down again. “Want to explain that? Since when do you call Hemi Te Mana ‘Hemi’? You two pals, or what?”

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