Untamed Bachelors: When He Was Bad... / Interview with a Playboy / The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta

And that girl would be turning up at any moment, if she wasn’t here already. Easing off the bed, he padded down the passage and into a spare bedroom for a view of the backyard. Low on the horizon, the early morning’s thin lemon sunlight was sliding obliquely between the clouds, glistening wetly on the lawn. He scanned the boggy patch where Ellie had been working yesterday. The garden shed. The back porch.

No sign of her.

She’d be here, he told himself; she wanted the job. Still, he felt oddly disappointed she hadn’t arrived yet. He wanted to see that glimpse of sunshine turn her hair to old gold and watch the jaunty, carefree way she had of moving.

He folded his arms across his chest as chilly air prickled his skin. Yeah, right. Watching her while he stood here naked. Scowling, he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Lucky for you, you’re not here yet, Ellie Rose.

Meanwhile he needed a cold shower and he needed it fast.

While he shivered and soaped up under the spray, he made a decision. This thing between them needed serious attention. Tonight. Get it out of their systems—two rational, consenting adults—then they could move on.

He turned off the taps, reached for his towel. Satisfied with his plan, he lathered on shaving cream and reached for his razor.

He checked his emails over fruit and toast. Coffee in hand, he made a follow-up call to last night’s meeting with Cole. Then he phoned the office to inform Joanie he’d be in before ten and took the next little while to look over a new project.

When Ellie still hadn’t turned up by nine o’clock he grew annoyed. He paced to the window. The devil of it was, he had no good reason to be so ticked off. Ellie kept her own timetable and Belle hadn’t expected him to wait around. But he was here now, and in Belle’s absence he felt he was entitled to know Ellie’s plans for today. Keep an eye on things. Keep his finger on the pulse.

He swung away. No, not Ellie’s pulse. Although if she didn’t get here soon he might have to throttle her.

He was a busy man. He didn’t have time to…He checked his watch. Nearly nine-fifteen…Didn’t have time to waste.

At ten o’clock he rang Joanie to tell her he’d been detained, that he’d phone again when he was on his way.

Responsibility. They’d talked about it. Ellie had worked two days and been on time. Perhaps that was her limit. He tapped in her phone number. Swore when her phone was switched off. She had no answering service so he couldn’t leave a voice message.

He paced to the window, glared at the front gate. When she arrived he’d tell her his expectations: While he was here, he preferred—wanted—her to keep regular hours…Damn, why wait until she’d arrived? He’d go inform her himself. That way he could drive her here if she was running late.

A short time later he parked and stared up at her sorry-looking apartment building. Daylight showed the dull facade in all its unspectacular glory. Grey peeling paintwork. Dusty windows.

He climbed out of his car and walked to the door. In this instance he was relieved it wasn’t a coded entry—except that anyone could walk in off the street. He took the stairs two at a time and followed a dingy passage until he found apartment number four, then knocked on the door.

No answer. Impatience snapped at him; he barely waited before knocking again, louder, longer. ‘Ellie, are you in there?’

A scruffy-looking sort in a grey hooded jacket with straggly blond hair and teenage fuzz above his upper lip exited an apartment down the hall. Mid- to late teens, Matt figured. The odour of sweat and dirty sneakers preceded the guy as he approached.

Matt’s nostrils flared in distaste. But Ellie had no choice; she couldn’t afford anything better. Matt understood that all too well.

‘She ain’t left yet,’ Scruffy said as he passed Matt.

He studied the youth through narrowed eyes. ‘And you’d know this how?’

Scruffy popped a wad of chewing gum in his mouth. ‘See everyone from my living room window. You dropped her off last night. Night before too. Black Ford, right?’

A twinge of concern jolted through Matt. ‘Do you watch everyone’s comings and goings?’

‘Pretty much,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Ain’t safe round here. It’s just me and Mum, and she’s in a wheelchair, so I keep an eye out.’

‘And you are?’

‘Toby.’ He stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. ‘You Ellie’s new boyfriend?’

‘I’m…Yes,’ Matt decided. One could never be too careful and any woman living alone was always a potential target, even if Toby seemed harmless enough. ‘My name’s Matt. I’ll see you around.’

‘Okay. See ya.’ Toby hunched into his hoodie and headed to the stairwell.

Matt resumed knocking. ‘Ellie, I know you’re in there. Answer the door.’ Finally he heard a muffled sound and the door cracked open. Her face was only partially visible and what he could see didn’t look good.

‘What are you doing here?’ She sniffed, dug a tissue from the pocket of her dressing gown, held it to her nose.

No wonder she hadn’t turned up. ‘You’re ill,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘You should have phoned me.’ He pushed the door wider, took in the dark circles beneath her glassy eyes before closing the door behind him.

‘Why?’ She turned away and headed over the worn linoleum floor towards her bed. She wore flannelette pyjamas under her robe, he noticed, and fluffy pink slippers.

‘To let me know you weren’t coming in…’ His voice was tight and clipped to his own ears. He saw the way her shoulders drooped and softened it with, ‘To let me know if you need anything.’ He glanced about him at the tiny studio apartment. The place was basic at best. And colder than an antarctic winter.

‘On my day off?’

‘Your day off?’

‘I don’t work Thursdays. I told you that at our interview.’ Stepping out of her slippers, she crawled onto the bed, dragging the covers over her. ‘So, if there’s nothing else…Pull the door shut behind you on your way out.’

Even with his jacket on, his skin goose-bumped beneath his cashmere jumper. ‘Don’t you have heating?’

‘It’s broken down,’ she mumbled.

‘I can’t leave you here like this.’

‘Sure you can. Don’t you have appointments to keep? Five-star hotels to frequent?’ A hand appeared from beneath the quilt to grab another tissue.

Five-star hotels? ‘What are you talking about?’ He crossed the room, stared down at her, shook his questions away. ‘Forget appointments, forget work. You shouldn’t be on your own and this place is an icebox. You’re coming home with me.’

Chapter Six (#ulink_78d3528d-1fb6-5a28-85d2-90316f7e8a66)

‘No.’ HER reply was razor sharp.

‘I don’t want to argue with you, Ellie.’

‘Good.’ A beat of silence. ‘I’m better off here. If I can sleep it off today, I’ll be right for work tomorrow.’

He lowered himself to the edge of the bed, his shoe skittering against something as he sat. He looked down…

His business card. Crumpled. By one very tight, very deliberate fist, if he guessed correctly. He picked it up, lowered the quilt so he could see her face and waved it in front of her. ‘I must’ve made a good impression Saturday night.’

Her eyes flicked open, then widened as she realised. ‘Oh.’ She blinked up at him. ‘How did that get there?’

He felt a corner of his mouth tip up. ‘You didn’t throw it out.’ He smoothed it out, tapped it against his chin. ‘This tells me something, Ellie.’

Her eyes slid shut again. ‘It tells you I’m environmentally aware, that I was waiting for the paper recycling day to come round.’