Tara touched the chain she always wore around her neck, rubbing her fingers over the familiar heart-shaped crystal. Perhaps she wasn’t ready for Rule Number Three yet, but she was meeting Jamie and Chloe at a bar, and planned to have a damned good go at Number Two.
The bar was a trendy place done up like an old-fashioned pub, with wood paneling and horse brasses hanging on the walls. It was popular with the after-work crowd and the steady hum of voices met her as she pushed open the door. It took her a moment to locate her friends in the dim light. They were arguing about something but shut up as she approached. They both smiled brightly.
Tara frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Great,” Chloe said. “And I love your hair.”
“You really think it’s all right?” Tara ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. She’d gone out that morning with it down to her waist. Now it was cut off blunt, level with her shoulders.
“It’s gorgeous. That long fringe is very sexy, makes your eyes look enormous.”
Chloe and Jamie were new friends; Tara didn’t have any old ones. She had literally bumped into Jamie on her first day in the city. Nothing in her life had prepared her for London, and Jamie had helped her from the start. After six months, it was as if she’d known him all her life.
Chloe lived in the apartment below Tara.
“Jamie was just telling me that I’m a bad influence,” Chloe said. “That you’re a nice girl, and I shouldn’t try to change that.”
Tara took off her coat and perched herself on the red leather stool opposite. “I don’t want to be a nice girl.”
“Hah!” Chloe grinned. “I told you so.”
Jamie frowned at her. “She doesn’t know what she wants. She’s obviously still in shock from her aunt’s death.” He stood up. “I’ll go get you a drink. You want a coke?”
“No. I’ll have a…” She didn’t know what to have. Chloe was drinking a pint of something dark and not particularly appetizing.
“Guinness,” Chloe supplied.
“You do not want to drink Guinness,” Jamie said.
“I’m determined to break Rule Number Two tonight. So accept that, or sit down, and I’ll get my own drink.”
“Rule Number Two?” Chloe asked.
“My aunt had all these stupid rules. Rule Number Two was never drink alcohol.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “You mean you’ve never had a drink? Not ever?”
Tara shook her head.
Chloe regarded Tara curiously. “Your aunt sounds like she was crazy. Why did you stay so long?”
“I’d planned to go to college when I was eighteen. But Aunt Kathy got ill, and I couldn’t leave her. I was all she had and, rules or not, I loved her.”
Still, it had given Tara insight on how love could be used against someone, and she never wanted anyone to have that sort of power over her again. An unexpected vision of Christian Roth flashed through her mind, and a wave of heat washed over her.
“What are you thinking?” Chloe asked. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”
“Nothing. You know, I think I’ll have a glass of white wine.”
Jamie didn’t appear happy about it, but he went off to the bar without any more argument.
“It’s quite sweet really,” Chloe said. “Jamie and you, I mean. It’s like he wants to look after you.”
“I don’t need looking after.”
Chloe patted her arm. “Of course you don’t, sweetie. How did it go with the private investigator?”
“I never got to see Mr. Grant.”
“You didn’t?”
“He couldn’t make it. I saw Christian Roth instead. He’s the owner of the company.”
Chloe gaped at her. “You saw Christian Roth?”
Tara nodded. “Do you know him?”
“No one knows him. At least, if they do, they don’t talk about it. He’s like this totally mega-rich recluse. Absolutely gorgeous, or so the rumors go. There’s always stuff in the papers about him but never photographs. I can’t believe you got to see him. What was he like?”
“He was very nice.”
“Very nice?” Chloe said, her voice rising in disbelief. “I can’t believe anyone would actually get to see Christian Roth and have the nerve to say he was ‘very nice.’ Come on, spill the beans, tell all.”
“Tell all what?” Jamie placed a very small glass of wine in front of Tara, and another pint of Guinness for Chloe.
“Tara had a meeting with Christian Roth.”
“Really? That’s…interesting.”
“Interesting?” Chloe shook her head. “It’s not interesting. It’s amazing.”
Tara inspected her drink. She thought about taking a sip but decided to put it off a little longer. After all, breaking Rule Number Two was a momentous occasion, and she was determined to treat it as such. Instead, she considered what to say to Chloe.