Kayley’s mouth dropped open.
‘Once you get her back?’
‘That’s what I’m here for, Kayley. No point beating around the bush. Even if not as my wife, then as my agent. I need her. I can’t write. I haven’t written a fucking note since she left.’ His voice broke and she saw a glisten in his eyes that might have been the start of tears. ‘I’m finished, Kayley, if I can’t get her back. The best thing that ever came from Bledburn …’ He threw his hands in the air. ‘Gone.’
She didn’t know what to say.
‘Maybe just, er, a glitch, don’t you think? Writer’s block. Lots of people get it.’
He shook his head.
‘Not this dude. I need Jenna. I can’t create without her. Please help me, Kayley. Please.’
‘I … don’t know …’ She was trying to construct some kind of sentence, or at least a thought that made sense. She was still trying when a very unwelcome third party appeared at their table.
‘Deano, I thought we were going to …’ Lawrence Harville stopped short and ran a hand through his impeccable hair, staring at Kayley.
She shrank back, wanting to pull the hood all the way over her face.
Shit.
‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘If it isn’t our little canary.’
Seeing that Deano’s curious expression demanded satisfaction, he waved a hand that was much less nonchalant than he appeared to want it to be.
‘Oh, nothing you need to worry about. Just … never mind.’ He made a huge effort to drive Kayley out of his field of vision. ‘Our meeting?’ he said. ‘We really need to get some of the fine detail sorted out.’
‘Look, I said I’d call you. I’m busy here, yeah? Lunch? With a lady? So I’ll see you around, OK.’
Harville pinched his lips, his cheeks whitening.
Kayley had seen that look on him before, and the last time it had been the precursor to a slap across the face.
Not this time, though.
‘Don’t forget,’ he muttered, before stalking out of the dining room.
Kayley looked after him, her eyes wide.
‘Fuck me, another bullet dodged,’ she said with sincere relief, once he was safely out of the building.
‘Do you really think he’s out to get you?’
Deano, interested, put down the forkful of salad he’d been about to shovel into his mouth.
‘He definitely is. I grassed him up. And you know what the rules are in Bledburn.’
‘Thou shalt not grass,’ agreed Deano. ‘Right. I’m going to level with you about something else, Kayley. I hate the bastard. I don’t want to deal with him. He’s a Harville. But he’s managed to get his name mixed up in this talent contest malarkey, and I can’t seem to prise him off it. I’m hoping that, if I give him enough rope, he’ll eventually hang himself.’
‘They didn’t get him last time,’ she said. ‘He’s coated in Teflon, that bastard. Nothing sticks to him.’
‘I’ll stick to him,’ said Deano. ‘Like glue, if I have to. I want the last traces of Harville out of this town, for good.’
‘Well, that’s something I’d definitely want to help you with.’
He tilted his head to one side, smiling at her consideringly.
‘You know, I’m glad we ran into one another, Kayley. Something tells me we’re going to hit it off.’