Valentine watched her, his head on his paws, clearly deciding that this was one of those days when it was best to keep a low profile.
“I’m upset,” she told him, her bad mood lessening as he thumped his tail on the floor. “He should at least have told me, don’t you think?”
Valentine watched her in silence and she sighed.
“He was doing the best for his clients, I know.” And it was hard to criticize a man for that. “I mean, I know I kept secrets from him, but that was different.”
Valentine’s gaze followed her as she clattered her way around the small, sun-filled kitchen.
“All right, maybe it wasn’t that different.” She glared at him. “Stop looking at me like that. You’re making me feel guilty.”
Valentine yawned and thumped his tail.
“You want me to feel guilty? What sort of a friend are you?” A good friend. The best. Except that lately, Daniel had been a good friend, too.
She made her coffee strong, breathed in the aroma and took several restorative sips before taking it to the window seat. It was the place she did most of her thinking. “I love talking to you, but talking to him felt good, too.” She leaned against the cushions, curled her legs under her, and stared down into the street.
“I should probably call him.”
It wasn’t as if he was the only one who had been stingy with the truth. She had, too, hadn’t she? In fact, if she’d told him the truth from the beginning, none of this would have happened.
His behavior had been no worse, or better, than hers.
She should definitely call him.
With a sigh, she reached for her phone.
“Here’s the thing,” she told Valentine. “It’s okay to make mistakes, just as long as you’re not afraid to admit when you were wrong. I was wrong. In his position, I probably would have done the same thing. Give me five minutes to drink this and recover and then I’ll call him and take you for a walk in the park. Maybe he’ll even meet us there.”
Valentine’s ears pricked up at the promise of a walk, but before she’d had a chance to finish her coffee there was a hammering on the door.
“Molly?”
Valentine sprang to his feet and shot across the room, barking with delight as he recognized Daniel’s voice.
Molly, who was having much the same reaction, walked to the door, her coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.
He’d come to her. That was good, wasn’t it?
She unlocked the door and opened it.
Daniel stood there. He was still wearing the shirt he’d had on the night before, although he’d replaced tailored trousers with jeans. His face was ashen, the blue of his eyes intensified by the pallor of his skin. At the sight of him the last of her anger evaporated and all that was left was concern.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Had he lost a client? Was he ill? “You look awful.”
“You didn’t answer my text.” He pushed his way into her apartment without waiting for an invitation and she closed the door.
“I was just going to call you, but you beat me to it. What did your text say? My phone was switched off.” She switched it on, wondering what the message was. Something affectionate? Another apology? Or was he waiting for an apology from her? She had a feeling she owed him one.
“Sit down.” His mouth was tight. His expression grim.
Her stomach gave a little lurch. “Look, I admit I may have overreacted a little last night. I’ve had time to think about it and—”
“I’m not here because of last night.”
“Oh. I assumed…” She swallowed. “So why are you here?” She’d never seen him like this before. She’d only ever seen him calm and in control. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to you?”
“It’s not about me, it’s about you.”