‘Well?’ Her eyes sparked.
‘I’m pretty adept with a computer,’ Luke answered. ‘I found a mention of the sale of this house from a Julia Schmidt to you in the town property records.’ She shook her head, coldly incredulous, and he tried a smile. ‘Aurelie Schmidt. I wondered what your last name was.’
‘Nice going, Sherlock.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I still don’t know why you’re here.’
‘I’d like to talk to you.’
She arched an eyebrow, smiled unpleasantly. ‘Oh? That wasn’t the message you were sending me back in New York.’
‘That’s true. I’m sorry if I appeared rude.’
‘Appeared? Well, I appeared like I was strung out on drugs, so what does it really matter?’ She pivoted on her heel and walked down a dark, narrow hall, the faded wallpaper cluttered with photographs Luke found he longed to look at, to the kitchen.
‘Appeared?’ he repeated as he stood in the doorway, sunlight spilling into the room from a bay window that overlooked a tangled back garden. Aurelie had picked up a mug of coffee and took a sip. She didn’t offer him any.
‘I told you, it doesn’t matter.’
‘Actually, it does. If you have a substance abuse problem, I need to know about it now.’ That was the one thing that had almost kept him from coming at all. He would not work with someone who was unstable, who might overdose. He would never put himself in that position again.
‘You need to know?’ she mocked. She held her coffee mug in front of her as if it was some kind of shield, or perhaps a weapon. Luke stayed by the door. He didn’t want its contents thrown in his face. ‘What else do you need, Luke Bryant?’
Her eyes flashed and he tensed. He hated innuendo, especially when he knew it held a shaming grain of truth.
‘I have a proposition to put to you,’ he said evenly. ‘But first I need to know. Do you have a substance abuse problem, of any kind?’
‘Would you believe me if I told you?’
‘Yes—’
‘Ri-ight.’ She shook her head. ‘Why are you really here?’
‘I told you, I have a proposition to put to you. A business proposition.’
‘It’s always business, isn’t it?’
Luke bit down on his irritation. Already he was regretting the insane impulse to come here. ‘Enough. Either you listen to me or you don’t. If you’re interested in making a comeback—’
He saw her knuckles whiten around her coffee mug. ‘Who said I was interested in that?’
‘Why else accept the Bryant’s booking?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Boredom?’
Luke stared at her, saw the dangerous glitter in her eyes, the thin line of her mouth. The quivering chin. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said quietly.
‘Why are you interested in me making a comeback?’ she challenged. ‘Because you certainly weren’t in New York.’
‘I changed my mind.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Look, I’ll tell you all about it if you think we can have a civil conversation, but first just answer the question. Do you have a substance—’
‘Abuse problem,’ she finished wearily. ‘No.’
‘Have you ever?’
‘No.’
‘Then why were you passed out in New York?’
Her expression was blank, her voice flat. ‘I hadn’t eaten anything. Low blood sugar.’ Luke hesitated. It hadn’t seemed like just low blood sugar. She eyed him cynically. ‘Clearly you believe me, just like you said you would.’
‘I admit, I’m sceptical.’
‘So honest of you.’
‘I won’t have anything to do with drugs.’
‘That makes two of us. Amazing,’ she drawled, ‘we have something in common.’
He thought of the tabloids detailing her forays into rehab. The pictures of her at parties. He really should turn around and walk right out of here. Aurelie watched his face, her mouth curling into a cold smile he didn’t like. ‘That doesn’t mean I’ve been a Girl Scout,’ she told him. ‘I never pretended I was.’
‘I know that.’