Flirting with Danger by Bev Hardy (digital e reader TXT) 📖

be forced to step into. But did she want to take that risk? Would she be letting an opportunity for happiness slip away without Richie? All she did know at that moment was that she wasn't ready to make that decision then; she wasn't thinking clearly enough.
She turned to him, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "We had a nice time together today, didn't we? I thought we did."
His face filled suddenly with pain. "We did; it was almost like old times," he said sadly.
She approached him then, her demeanour suddenly more determined. "It was like old times Rich; I loved the old times. Why can't it be like that now?"
He reached out and took her hand in his. "Say you'll marry me, and it will."
She fought to stop from pulling her hand away then. "I'm not ready for marriage again yet."
He sighed and dropped her hand. "I can't go backwards Charlie. I love you and I want you to be mine."
Tears of panic and emotion began to threaten. "Is that why you asked me to marry you; because you think that every man I speak to will whisk me away from you? Because if so, that's absurd..."
"It's not that." He ran a hand over his face. "I'm in love with you," he finished simply.
She'd never told Richie that she loved him. He had told her on numerous occasions and she had felt awkward, acutely aware that he probably expected the same declaration back. She couldn't say it though; she just didn't feel that way about him... not then anyway. She had thought that with time her feelings would deepen, but at that moment, she couldn't lie to him.
With each passing moment of Charlie's silence, she could feel their relationship slipping away; his face told her so.
Finally, he broke eye contact and turned for the door.
"I'm sorry Charlie, I can't do this anymore."
At the door he paused to ask, "Are you okay to get home?"
She nodded, her throat aching too much for her to risk speaking.
He left then, shutting the door behind him.
Silence filled the room, and loneliness filled her heart. She suddenly had the most awful fearful, sinking feeling as she leant back against the counter top and let her sadness pour out unchecked, her hands covering her face as she wept. Would she ever find the right man for her? She had the horrible feeling that she was going to be alone for the rest of her life. Everything was falling apart. She had anticipated this breakup, but now it had happened, she wasn't ready for it. Within the space of two days, the happy, comfortable life that she had finally managed to find for herself was slipping away from her, and she was back to how she was before: yearning for Luke, the man she could never have, and scrambling to keep him from self-destructing.
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Luke barged back through the crowd, receiving disapproving looks from people, until he was at the bar once more.
"Eddie," he called loudly.
Eddie had his back to him as he placed glasses into a sink to wash. He swung around on hearing Luke's voice.
"Hey," he smiled, "you left. Where's Charlie?" he asked.
Luke ignored his question. "There was a woman over there just now," he said, pointing out across the garden, "Dark hair, American, kinda looks out of place here. Did you see where she went?"
Eddie went slightly pale. "Is she from New York?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's her! Where did she go?" he asked desperately.
"I don't know. I haven't seen her tonight. Didn't think she'd come back here tonight," he replied.
"She's been here before?" he barked out.
Eddie was becoming more and more anxious by Luke's reactions. "Yes, she was here earlier this morning. I guess you know then," he lowered his voice, "about her… and…" he coughed, "…and Richie."
In truth, Eddie was sort of relieved to have someone else who cared about Charlie knowing. Maybe he would do something about the cheating ratbag?
Luke had stilled, his eyes boring into Eddie's as he asked in a slow deliberate voice.
"What about this woman and Richie?"
Eddie began to regret saying anything. Luke looked like a volcano about to explode.
"Err…"
"What about them!" he yelled.
Eddie's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "She's his other girlfriend," he whispered, bracing himself for the onslaught.
Charlie was in danger.
Seconds later and Luke was gone, leaving a crowd of mystified people looking over their shoulders.
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After several minutes of indulging herself with tears, Charlie realised that she at least had to move from the kitchen or the staff would be returning, and plus, she needed to put that alcohol back in Doug's office.
Grabbing the plastic bag with the bottles in, she left the kitchen and headed down the corridor to the lifts, her vision swimming with the remains of the tears… her eyes red and puffy.
As she exited the lift on the top floor and made her way down the corridor to Doug's office at the end, to her horror she heard a familiar voice behind her and turned to see Doug approaching. She simply stood there, her hand tightening nervously on the plastic bag, and all energy to find excuses seeping out of her.
"Charlie, wait up," he called, his face draining of colour when he saw the distress in hers. "What is it? What's happened?" he said, the panic clear in his voice.
With a shaking hand and tears now falling again down her cheeks, she held out the bag to him. "I borrowed some drink from your office. I'm sorry."
He frowned at the bag and took it from her with bewilderment. "Never mind about that, what's wrong?" he asked again urgently. "What did Richie do?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, it was me, I…I…"
Relief swept over Doug then. For one moment, he had thought that maybe Luke's mistrust of Richie might have been justified.
"Come on," he said, turning her around and leading her to his office. "I'll get you another drink and you can talk, if you feel up to it."
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"Here," Doug said, handing Charlie a glass of wine, and taking a seat on the sofa. She joined him, placing the glass down on a side table so that she could wipe the tears from her eyes. "I'm assuming that you and Richie have argued tonight," he said, testing the water.
She nodded. "We've split up," she replied, fresh tears seeping from her eyes. She attempted to stop their path down her cheeks but gave up and took comfort in her wine glass instead.
Doug looked to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Are you?" she asked. "I mean, I know that you don't exactly like Richie."
He looked up at her. "I don't dislike him. I just didn't think he was right for you. And I am sorry because I can see that you are upset. But, I hope you don't mind me saying, you turned down his proposals over and over again. You have good instincts Charlie; trust them," he advised.
The tears started falling afresh now but for another reason: relief. Having Doug tell her that Richie wasn't right for her meant that she now had less regrets about splitting up with him.
"Hey," he said, reaching out to wipe her tears with the back of his fingers, "break ups are never nice but you'll be okay," he assured her, standing to move to his desk in search of some tissues for her.
"I know," she sighed. "But working with him on the charity projects is unfortunate."
He returned with a box of tissues, offering them to her. She took a couple, dried her tears and blew her nose.
Doug became silent for a moment and thoughtful before he replied,
"Tell me something sweetheart, truthfully now, why did you join MI5?"
Charlie looked taken aback by the seemingly random question. "I'm sure we've had this conversation before sometime," she laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. "Why do you ask?"
"We did," he replied, "you said something vague like, 'to work for Queen and country' because you didn't know how else to reply, but that was a long time ago. I'm asking you now for a different reason."
She shrugged. "What reason?"
She was being evasive. He wasn't at all surprised. He wanted to know if she knew herself why she had joined.
"Go with me on this Charlie," he appealed.
She thought about it for a moment and realised to her surprise that the answer wasn't coming to her that easily. A slight frown of confusion passed over her brow. She had the distinct feeling that he already knew, so then why on earth didn't she? It should have been an easy enough question to answer.
His face filled with wry amusement watching her. "Come on, it's not a trick question. This is me you're talking to. Just be honest," he urged.
"I…I wanted to help people," she finally said.
He smiled affectionately at her. "I know, but there are many ways of doing that; you do that here now with the work you do, and you did it here before you joined MI5," he pointed out.
Then why? Why couldn't she think? Her mind wandered back to how she used to feel.
"I wanted…" she paused for a moment before answering, "a challenge," she came up with. As soon as she had uttered the words, it became startlingly clear to her how accurate that was.
His smile grew. "That's closer to the truth."
She gave a small laugh in response. "You know what it was like Doug, everyone used to treat me with kid gloves just because of who I am. I wasn't experiencing life."
"Exactly. So now I have one more question. If that were the case, why did you come back here?"
She sighed and sat back against the sofa cushions behind her, running a hand through her hair and holding it on top of her head. She supposed that he had a good point.
She just stared at him, unable to come up with a reply.
He didn't really expect one; he had just wanted her to think about it.
"Look," he said, reaching out to take her hand that was resting on top of her head to hold it in his, "Don't get me wrong, I want nothing more than to have you here, but you're not living life properly, you're…hiding from something," he said, giving her a knowing look.
She laughed nervously.
"Yes, you are," he pushed, "I know you well enough by now. I'm not going to pry by asking why or what, but all I know is that it frightens you more than the mobsters and murderers you used to face every day, and that's a lot of fear."
Fresh tears sprung to her eyes then. How could he see everything so clearly?
He reached out to her again and cupped her face with one hand.
"Listen sweetheart, don't you think you might be happier if you faced it...whatever it is...and moved on from here? I don't want you stuck here going through the motions of life, and certainly not with someone like Richie," he frowned, dropping his hand. "He wasn't right for you."
She laughed, with tears falling down her face at the same time. "Thank you, I actually feel surprisingly better now," she said, her tears contradicting her words.
"Hey, hey," Doug stood then, pulling Charlie up and into his arms to comfort her. " I just want you to be happy sweetheart. Whatever you decide to do, I'll always be here if you need me," he assured her.
She took in a shuddery breath and looked up at him with a pained expression. "I want you to be happy too. I'm…I'm sorry," she said.
"What for?" he frowned.
She lowered her eyes. "You know."
He stared down at her for a moment. "I'm not sorry," he smiled. "Life is too short for that."
She nodded, pulling away from him, running her hands over her face and taking in a steadying breath. She had to pull herself together.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes. And thank you Doug."
"You don't have to thank me," he smiled. "I just have to get some paperwork from out there," he said, gesturing to the outside office, "and then we can