Hidden Kiss (Love Is The Law 2) by Isabella Brooke Read Free Book Online Page B

again.
    Emily glanced up to see who was coming in, and the mug
slipped from her hands, clattering into the sink. Had her thoughts conjured him
up?
    The young man nodded and smiled, but she couldn't smile
back. She was frozen, staring, as Polly said, "Hey Joel. How you doing,
pet?" She was looking at Joel, not Emily, and didn't see her reaction.
    "I'm all right. How are you?" He spoke lightly,
the typical Manc twang thick in his voice. Emily hadn't heard him for years but
he was almost as familiar to her as Turner was.
    "I'm doing fine," Polly said. "Hey, have you
met our new office manager and general dogsbody? Emily?"
    Emily picked up the mug and half-turned to face him, wanting
more than anything to just run away. She didn't take her eyes away from Joel
and she could see recognition finally spread across his face.
    He looked healthier than she'd last seen him. The treatment
for TB must have been working; she knew it took months, even years, to be clear
of one of homelessness's biggest killers. He was dressed in clean, old clothing
and his face showed he was getting regular meals at last. He was still slender,
but he no longer looked ill.
    "Emily."
    Polly finally picked up on the strange atmosphere between
them. She said, breezily, "So, you guys know each other! How cool is
that?"
    Emily forced herself to smile as warmly as she could. She
knew her face would look stiff and unnatural but she tried to make her eyes
crinkle at the corners. That was the sign of a genuine smile, wasn't it? "Joel,
how are things? It's good to see you."
    He didn't smile back. He was still looking shocked.
"Good to see me? After… well, okay than. Thank you. Things are better than
they were."
    "I'm glad to hear it. Really, I am."
    "Sure." He shrugged, clearly disbelieving
everything.
    "Well, fancy that. How did you two meet?" Polly
blustered on. She must have picked up on the awkwardness now, but it was in her
nature to plough through with humour and chirpiness.
    Emily and Joel blinked at each other, waiting for the
explanation to come for the other person. Finally Emily took the lead in the
awkward silence.
    "When I was starting out, fresh out of media studies at
college, I… met Joel as part of research for an article I was writing."
    Joel raised one eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate, but
she came to a helpless stop and thrust her hands into her pockets. She twitched
her shoulders upwards, a slight shrug to signal that was all there was to it.
    "So, anyway," she continued, swerving and changing
the subject, "Anyway. I had best be getting back to my desk. Uh, you take
care, Joel, see you later. Thanks for the tea, Polly."
    She squirmed past Joel who steadfastly did not move out of
the way, and walked as fast as she dared. She didn't want to look as if she was
running, even though she felt like it. It was a relief to throw herself back behind
the desk in the reception area, and bury herself back in work again. Thank
heavens for hundreds of pointlessly urgent emails. Little red flags of
self-importance listed down her screen. Hooray.
    She didn't even know why Joel was here. Working? Volunteering?
She should have asked. She should have said more. A thousand perfect-hindsight
recriminations nibbled at the edges of her consciousness but she gritted her
teeth, ignored the emails, and instead she masochistically ploughed through a
stack of ancient invoices.
    It worked. Unintelligible notes from the previous office
manager soon pushed the frets and worries of Joel out of her mind, and she was
absorbed into her work until it was time to go home.
     
    * * * *
     
    "My round, lads." Turner rose to his feet and
pointed his finger in turn at each of the men sitting around the pitted pub
table. "Lager, lager, cider, lemonade?"
    "We ought to get you this," one of the lanky young
ones protested, but he was quickly shushed by his friends. Turner laughed at
them all, and went to the bar to order five more drinks. The barmaid was
reluctant to be dragged away