Between The Sheets

Between The Sheets by Colette Caddle Read Free Book Online

Book: Between The Sheets by Colette Caddle Read Free Book Online
Authors: Colette Caddle
Tags: FIC000000
mother died?' Gus asked.
    Walter screwed up his face as he tried to remember. 'No,' he said at last. 'We had talked on the phone a few times but her mother died before I had secured the Peyton contract.'
    'So you weren't at the funeral,' Gus said, deflated.
    'Had it happened a few months later, no doubt I would have been. Sorry, I'm not much help, am I? What will you do now?'
    'Forget about it and her,' Gus said grimly, taking a long drink. 'And get on with my life.'
    'Why don't you just talk to Dana?'
    'I've been trying to talk to her for months,' Gus snapped. 'No, make that years.'
    Walter looked at him thoughtfully. 'Then maybe you should talk to her brother.'
    Gus lowered his glass and stared at the agent. 'Ed? I wouldn't even know where to find him.'
    Walter's eyes twinkled. 'Now that I can tell you. He lives in their family home in Wexford.'
    Ian Wilson sat in his office looking at the long list of calls and emails he had to return. He should get stuck in but he couldn't get Dana De Lacey out of his head — or her beautiful, blonde assistant, for that matter. Walter Grimes was nagging him to organize some publicity for the author but it was next to impossible while the woman remained holed up in her room. He'd thought the night she'd gone to Lobo with Sylvie had marked the end of her reclusion but it seemed the woman was now worse than ever.
    He picked up the phone and called Sylvie, hoping for some news. Even if there wasn't, it would be nice to hear her voice.
    'Hello, Sylvie. It's Ian Wilson.'
    'Oh, hi, Ian.'
    From the despondent tone of Sylvie's voice, it was clear that things hadn't improved. He could imagine her sitting at her desk, full lips pouting as she brushed her fringe out of her troubled blue eyes and stretched those long, lovely legs in front of her. He sighed.
    'Oh, sorry, Sylvie. I was just wondering if Dana was available for a quick chat.'
    Sylvie gave a short laugh. 'No, sorry, she's not.'
    'Tell me, is it just me she won't talk to or is she like this with everyone?'
    'Don't take it personally, it's everyone, and I'm the one who has to deal with the fallout.'
    'Poor you,' he said sympathetically. "So I take it there's no sign of her and the husband getting back together.'
    'He's the one person who hasn't called,' Sylvie confided.
    'Is she writing at all?'
    'Are you kidding?'
    Ian closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. 'That's not good.'
    'Tell me about it.'
    'Perhaps if you and I put our heads together we could think of some way of getting her out of this rut. We could meet up later and discuss it over a drink.'
    'If this is your roundabout way of asking me out, Ian Wilson, you can forget it.'
    He laughed. 'Oh, well, it was worth a try.'
    'Goodbye, Ian.'
    She might have turned him down but he could hear the smile in her voice. He'd wear her down. It was only a matter of time. 'Bye, gorgeous.'
    Sylvie hummed to herself as she took the bus home later that day. There was no reason for her good humour. Her day had been as boring as all the others lately and Dana's house was not a pleasant place to work at the moment, given it was as silent as the grave. The only highlight had been the call from Ian Wilson. He was a cocky, big-headed guy but at the same time he made her smile and he was quite attractive in an obvious, all-American sort of way. Pity he was broke. Not that you'd know that from the way he went on, but his car gave him away. Ian wasn't the successful businessman he presented himself as.
    'Hi, Mum, I'm home,' she called as she put the key in the door and let herself into the modest but pretty little house in Ringsend.
    'Hello, love, I'm in here.'
    Sylvie followed the voice and found her mother in the kitchen, ironing and watching Richard and Judy.
    'You're just in time for the book club slot,' her mother told her with a smile.
    'How's Dad?' Sylvie asked as she threw her jacket on the back of a chair and put on the kettle.
    'Not bad at all today. Dana?'

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