sn’t sure it ever would...without Mimi.
He stared down at his phone. Alicia had called and left several messages, saying it was nothing urgent, to call her back, but from Mimi there had been nothing.
Unsurprisingly.
His paralysed silence when she had announced she was leaving had not exactly given her any incentive to stay in touch, and now it was nearly a week since she had got into that car with Paul.
Watching her leave, he’d wanted to chase after her, to ask her to stay. But he hadn’t been able to ask or expect her to do that—not knowing what he did.
Two years ago she and her mother had been chased, snapped and vilified just for the crime of being related to Charlie and Raymond. It hadn’t mattered to anyone, himself included, that they were innocent, unknowing bystanders. They had been judged fair game and treated accordingly.
His shoulders tensed and he felt his heart contracting with rage and regret. Mimi and her mother had had nobody to protect them—no security team to hold back the photographers, no lawyers fighting to defend their reputation, their name. They had been helpless and scared. And after watching her face as the paparazzi had penned her against his car the other day, he knew that fear hadn’t dissipated over time.
And that was why he hadn’t stopped her from leaving.
He hadn’t been able to ask her to stay for him—not after everything else he had demanded she do. He hadn’t been able to make her go through all that again, so he had let her go.
But he missed her.
From the moment he woke up in the morning and all through his restless nights she was there. No matter what he was doing she was in his head. He could hear her voice, her laughter, and sometimes when he closed his eyes he could feel her hair sliding over his skin, the soft whisper of her breath against his mouth.
He stood up, loneliness lapping like waves against his heart, and made his way to the window, as if by moving he could shift the feeling of fullness in his chest. Running a hand over his face, he stared at his reflection. He hadn’t shaved for the last three days, and instead of his usual suit and tie he was wearing joggers and a T-shirt. It was slack of him, but the effort of dressing seemed to be beyond him right now.
As did eating.
Unless whisky counted as a food.
He glanced over at the half-empty decanter. He wasn’t a big drinker, but he needed something in the evenings to blot out the ache, something to fill the hollowed-out space inside his chest.
He heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He took a breath and composed his face before he turned, fully expecting to see his housekeeper, Annie, her mouth set in a conciliatory smile as she offered the tray of food she would be carrying, for it wouldn’t have escaped her notice that he had skipped breakfast again.
But it wasn’t Annie. It was his sister Alicia and she didn’t look the least bit conciliatory.
‘I’ve been calling you all morning,’ she said accusingly. ‘Why didn’t you pick up?’
‘Sorry, I was just going to call back. I got caught up in something,’ he lied. Crossing the room, he pulled her into a hug. ‘We can talk now...catch up properly. Would you like a drink?’
Her eyes darted to the decanter. ‘It’s a bit early for whisky.’
He released her. ‘I meant tea or coffee.’
Her face softened. ‘Coffee, please. And a talk would be lovely.’
‘So, what do you want me for?’ he asked.
They were sitting on the sofa and, glancing over at his sister, he thought how well she looked. Her dark hair was shining and her skin looked almost luminous.
Being in love suited her, and it also seemed to be acting as a protective shield, so that although initially she had been upset by the news story she had quickly recovered her equilibrium. Equally surprisingly, his father had too. In fact, out of the three of them, he was the one who was struggling to deal with it. Not the practicalities, of course, but emotionally.
‘I wanted to invite you to lunch.’
He stared at her blankly. Lunch? The thought made his stomach clench like a fist. He knew it was selfish, but the last thing he felt like doing was sitting down with Alicia and Philip and watching them gaze into each other’s eyes.
‘I’m not sure, Lissy...’ He glanced down at the pile of papers on the floor, seeking and finding an excuse. ‘I need to be here in case something kicks off.’
‘What could possibly kick off?’ Alicia frowned. ‘You haven’t left the house in days and Mimi’s gone AWOL. All the photographers have cleared off.’
His chest tightened. It was the first time in a week that he’d heard anyone say Mimi’s name out loud, and it felt like a kick to the stomach.