Second Chance At Sea. Jessica Gilmore

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      ‘Okay, then.’ She picked up her bags and smiled at him. ‘Thanks, Jonas.’

      ‘Good luck. They’d be mad not to offer you the job.’

      ‘That’s the hope.’ She stepped forward and gave him a brief, light kiss, inhaling the fresh, seaside aroma of him as she did so, feeling an inexplicable tightening in her chest. ‘Bye.’

      He stood statue-still, not reacting to the kiss. ‘Bye.’

      She paused for a split second but she had no idea what she was waiting for—why she had a sudden leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the bags and, with a last smile in Jonas’s direction, turned and walked away towards the sliding glass doors.

      ‘Lawrie?’

      She stopped, turned, unexpected and unwanted hope flaring up inside her.

      ‘I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll go and visit my parents if you email your mother.’

      The familiar panic welled up. ‘I don’t have her email address.’

      ‘I can forward it to you.’

      ‘Oh.’ She searched for another excuse.

      ‘Scared?’ His voice was low, understanding, comforting.

      ‘A little.’ Not that she wanted to admit to fear—not to him. ‘I don’t know, Jonas. I feel safer with her not in my life.’

      ‘I know.’ His mouth twisted. ‘It’s just one step. It doesn’t have to be more.’

      Just one email. It sounded like such a small gesture and yet it felt so huge.

      ‘One step,’ she echoed. ‘Okay.’

      ‘Good. I’ll see you here in four days.’

      And he was gone.

      * * *

      Five hours later Lawrie was ensconced in a comfortable reclining seat, her laptop already plugged in on the table in front of her, her privacy screen blocking out the rest of the world.

      Wriggling down into her seat, Lawrie squared her shoulders against the plump supporting cushions. She loved business class! The firm’s willingness to pay for it boded well.

      Ostensibly her ultra-comfortable journey should ensure she arrived in New York both well rested and prepared, but although her research on the firm was open on the laptop she had barely glanced at it.

      Instead she had spent an hour composing an email to her mother. Lawrie reread the few short lines again and sighed. For goodness’ sake, how hard could it be? She was aiming for polite, possibly even slightly conciliatory, but she had to admit the tone was off. The words sounded snooty, accusatory, hurt.

      Exasperated, she deleted the lot and typed a few stiff sentences as if she were addressing a stranger.

      She supposed she was. Would she even recognise her mother if she sat next to her? Her early teens were so long ago. Had it hurt her mother, leaving her only daughter in Trengarth? Never seeing her again?

      Did she ever wonder if she had done the right thing? Regret her past?

      She wondered how Jonas was doing with his parents—if his efforts were any more successful than her own.

      She shook herself irritably. For goodness’ sake! She was supposed to be preparing for her interview. This was it—her big chance.

      So why did she feel so empty?

      Lawrie slid a little further into the plush seat and looked out of the small window at the wispy white clouds drifting lazily past. What was wrong with her? Surely she hadn’t let a blue eyed surfer derail her the way he had done twelve years ago?

      Hot shame flushed through her body. She couldn’t—wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of her past. Because let’s face it, she thought, ambitious little Lawrie Bennett wanted many things. She had planned her whole life through, and getting married the year she left school, before she’d received her A-level results, going to university as an eighteen-year-old bride had not been part of that plan.

      Yet she had still said yes.

      Lawrie pulled a piece of hair down and twizzled it around her finger. That moment—the utter joy that had suffused her whole being the second he’d asked her. Had she felt like that since? Not when she’d graduated with a first, not when she’d got hired at a top City firm.

      And certainly not when Hugo had proposed.

      She shook herself irritably, tucking the strand of hair back into her ponytail. Joy? ‘For goodness’ sake, grow up,’ she muttered aloud. She was in business class, flying to be interviewed for the job of her dreams, and—what? It wasn’t enough?

      It was everything.

      She had to remember that. Everything.

      * * *

      Jonas pulled over and typed the address into his phone, but he knew long before the icon loaded that he was in the right place. Looking around the tree-lined lane, he saw a row of identikit 1930s detached houses, all painted a uniform white, every garden perfectly manicured, every drive guarded by large iron gates, every car a sleek saloon. There wasn’t a plastic slide or football goal to be seen.

      The quiet, still road was crying out for bikes to be pedalled along it, the wide pavements for chalk and hopscotch. But there was no one to be seen.

      Jonas sighed. What was he doing here? How many times could a guy set himself up for disappointment? He wouldn’t be welcome. Even if his parents liked surprises his unheralded appearance wasn’t going to bring them any joy.

      But he had made a deal. And he might not know much about Lawrie Bennett any more, but he did know that there was something lost at the heart of her.

      That desperate need to fit in, to be in control. To follow the plan...

      He’d tried to fill that void once. Maybe someone in New York could, if she could just let go of her fears. And if he could do that much for his ex-wife—well, maybe their marriage wouldn’t have been such a disaster after all.

      A sharp pain twisted inside him at the thought of her with someone else but he ignored it. One of them deserved to be happy; one of them should be. And himself? Well... He smiled wryly. There were moments. Moments when a deal went well, when a chord was played right, when he looked around at a café full of content customers, when a wave was perfect.

      Those moments were gold. He didn’t ask for more. He wasn’t sure he was capable of more.

      Sighing, Jonas looked down at the icon on his phone, busily flashing away, signalling a road just to the left. He was pretty sure the next few moments were going to be anything but gold. But he’d promised.

      And he always kept his word.

      * * *

      Why did his СКАЧАТЬ