Book 4 - Page 97 (1/2)

“We did,” I told her. “We do.”

I stepped closer, put my hands on her hips. To my profound relief she didn’t pull away, and I bent, kissing her neck. “Ruby, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, her arms limp at her sides. “You hurt me.”

“I was an idiot.”

Pulling away, she closed her eyes to collect herself and then, to my absolute horror, she picked up her box and walked down the opposite way from me, down a row of cubicles and out of the office before I could gather the right words to make her stop.

Bringing home the folders was an exercise in going through the motions. I remained just as useless for the remainder of the weekend.

Sleep. Eat. Drink myself into a stupor. Stare.

My phone was disturbingly silent. I was grateful to receive no calls from Tony, no calls from family, nothing more from Portia. But it devastated me every time I looked down at my phone and had heard nothing from Ruby.

So when it began buzzing over where I’d hurled it a few hours before, on a throw pillow on the floor across the room, it took a few full rings for me to startle out of my trance and answer.

I stumbled over, and cursed down at the screen, answering it anyway. “Max.”

“I talked to Rebecca earlier,” he said by way of greeting.

“Mm?”

“Mum’s in bits over this. Rebecca already told her she thinks Ruby’s going to be the one.”

My sister. “She’s never b.l.o.o.d.y met Ruby.”

“Doesn’t matter, apparently.”

I spoke into my tumbler of gin, “At least you two never dive in to anything headlong.”

“You sound p.i.s.sed.”

Staring into my drink, I told him, “On my way. And miserable.”