‘How are you?’ Rachel asked. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’
‘Worried?’ Mateo repeated shortly. ‘Why?’
‘Because you left so suddenly, for a family emergency,’ Rachel said, sounding both defensive and a bit exasperated. ‘Of course I’d be worried.’
‘You needn’t be concerned.’ Too late Mateo realised how he sounded—brusque to the point of rudeness, and so unlike the usual way he related to his colleague. His former colleague. The truth was, he was feeling both raw and uncertain about everything, and he didn’t want to admit that to anyone, not even Rachel.
Rachel. She’d been a good friend to him over the years, his closest friend in many ways although she knew little about his life, and he knew less about hers. They’d functioned on an academic plane, both enjoying the thrill of research, of making discoveries, of joking in the lab and discussing theories in the pub. Mateo didn’t think he’d ever asked her about her personal life, or she about his. The thought had never occurred to him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, for his tone. ‘But it’s all under control.’
‘Is it?’ Rachel sounded hopeful. ‘So you’ll be back in Cambridge soon?’
Realisation thudded through Mateo at the assumption she’d so blithely made. The leave of absence he’d been granted was going to have to become a termination of employment, effective immediately, and yet he resisted the thought. Still, he steeled himself for what he knew had to be both said and done.
‘No, I’m afraid I won’t. I’m resigning from my position, Rachel.’ He heard her soft gasp of surprised distress, and it touched him more than he expected it to. They might have been close colleagues, even friends, but Rachel would be fine without him. She’d find another research partner, maybe even move up in the department. It wasn’t as if they’d actually cared about each other.
‘But why?’ she asked softly. ‘What’s going on, Mateo? Can’t you tell me?’
He hesitated, then said, ‘I need to take care of the family business. My brother was in charge but he’s stepped down rather suddenly.’
‘The family business...’
‘Yes.’ He wasn’t ready to tell her the truth, that he was now king of a country. It sounded ridiculous, like something out of some soppy movie, and it made a lie of his life. Besides, she would find out soon enough. It would be in the newspapers, and rumours would ripple through the small, stifling university community. They always did.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Rachel said slowly. ‘You’re really not coming back at all?’
‘No.’
‘And there’s nothing I can do? No way I can help?’
‘No. I’m sorry.’ The words sounded so final, and Mateo knew there was no more to say. ‘Goodbye, Rachel,’ he said, and then he disconnected the call.
* * *
Rachel stared at her phone in disbelief. Had Mateo just hung up on her? Why was he acting as if he’d died?
And yet it felt as if he’d died. In truth, Rachel felt a far greater grief than she’d ever expected to, to have Mateo walk out of her life like that. She knew they hadn’t
actually been close in the way that most friends were, no matter how much they’d shared together. She suspected they wouldn’t keep in touch. Mateo probably wouldn’t even think of it. Typical scientist, existing on a mental plane rather than a physical one.
And yet Mateo Karras was a very physical man. Rachel had noticed it the moment she’d been introduced to him, when they’d both been obtaining their PhDs. Mateo had been in his third year while she’d been in her first, and the rumours had already been swirling around him, with the few female students in the department pretending to swoon whenever his name was mentioned.
Still, Rachel hadn’t been prepared for the sheer physical presence of him, the base, animal attraction that had crashed over her, despite the glaring obviousness of their unsuitability. She was plain, nerdy, a little too curvy, with no fashion sense. Mateo might be a brilliant scientist, but he didn’t fit the geeky stereotype as so many of his colleagues did.
He was devastatingly attractive, for a start, with close-cropped dark hair and those amazing blue-green eyes, plus a physique that could grace a calendar if he chose. He was also charming and assured, his easy manner and wry jokes disguising the fact that no one actually knew anything about him. Some people wondered at the aloofness under his easy exterior; some had called him a snob. Rachel had felt something else from him. Something like sadness.
In the intervening years, however, she’d disabused herself of that fanciful notion and accepted that Mateo was a man, and a law, unto himself. Charming and urbane, passionate about his work, he didn’t need people the way most others did. The way Rachel had, and then learned not to, because it hurt less.
‘Rachel? Is that you?’ Her mother’s wavery voice had Rachel slipping her phone into her pocket and plastering a smile on her face. The last thing she wanted to do was worry her mother about anything, not that she would even be worried. Or notice.
Carol Lewis had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s two years ago, and since then her decline had been dispiritingly steady. She’d moved into the second bedroom of Rachel’s flat eighteen months ago. After living on her own since she was eighteen, Rachel had struggled to get used to her mother’s company, as well as her many needs...and the fact that her mother had never actually seemed to like her very much. Neither of her parents had, and that had been something Rachel had made peace with, or thought she had. Having her mother here tended to be an unwelcome reminder of the lack in their relationship.
‘Hey, Mum.’ Rachel smiled as her mother shuffled into the room, squinting at her suspiciously.
‘Why were you making so much noise?’
She’d been talking quietly, but never mind. ‘Sorry, I was on the phone.’