Making Your Mind Up (26 page)

“Mum? Phone!”

Lottie, lying in the bath listening to the storm raging outside, heard Nat galloping up the stairs. The bathroom door burst open and he charged in, clutching her cell phone.

“Eww, Mum, I can see your big bosoms.”

“Shhh. Give me that.” Nat hadn't yet grasped that even when he wasn't speaking into the receiver, he could still be overheard. Reaching for the phone, Lottie could just imagine Seb's ribald response. “Hi, sorry…Oh, hang on a sec, I've got shampoo in my ear… Right, all sorted now.”

“It's me.” Tyler's voice caused her to juggle and almost drop the phone in the bath. “Sorry to bother you when you're busy. But I've got a bit of a problem and I wondered if you could help me out.”

Hmm, having trouble getting rid of Ms. Hairy Legs perhaps? Was she at this very moment wrapping them determinedly around his waist and begging to have his babies?

Cautiously Lottie said, “Doing what?”

“I'm down at Harper's Barn. I need your help.”

There was an edge to his voice that Lottie hadn't heard before. She sensed immediately that whatever came next would entail climbing out of her delicious cocoon of hot water. Bathus interruptus. There was something almost painful about having to get out of a bath before you'd been planning to.

“Did you murder someone and need a hand shifting the body?” If it was Hairy Legs she'd do it.

“Dora cleaned the barn this afternoon after the Averys left,” said Tyler. “Remember Trish Avery's perfume?”

“God, don't remind me.” Remember it? Lottie could still practically taste it on her tongue. It was the most overpowering perfume known to man, with top notes that made your eyes water and undertones of wild skunk.

“Well, she must have spilled the bottle in the master bedroom. Dora told me it was horrific when she went in there. What she forgot to tell me was that she'd left all the windows wide open to try to get rid of the smell.”

“All the windows? Including the dormer ones upstairs?” Lottie's heart sank like a stone.

“You got it. And the Thompsetts are due to arrive at ten.”

“I'm in the bath, you know.”

Tyler said, “I'd gathered that. Well?”

“OK, OK. I'll be there. Oh
God
.” Lottie winced as Nat danced back into the bathroom, having stripped off his school shirt.

“What's wrong now?” said Tyler.

“Tah-dah!” Strutting around like Mick Jagger, Nat cried ecstatically, “Look at me, Mum. I'm wearing your bra!”

* * *

Every light was blazing in Harper's Barn. As Lottie climbed out of the car, she was almost knocked sideways by the howling gale sweeping across the lake and the torrential rain slamming into her body. It was like getting out of the bath all over again. Taking a deep breath and seizing the bags of clean laundry in both arms, she raced up the muddy path and through the front door Tyler was holding open for her.

“Thanks for doing this.” Closing the door, he took the heavy polyethylene bags from her grasp.

“Don't mention it. All part of the service. Although I shall be expecting a pay raise.” Gasping for breath and wiping rain out of her eyes, Lottie bent and tugged off her pink and white-spotted Wellingtons. Her short gray skirt was clinging to her thighs, but it would dry quickly enough. The same with her pink fleece. She really was going to have to invest in a raincoat. At least the central heating was on and the house was warm.

“We need to change the beds, mop up the wooden floors, and do our best to get the carpets dry. I've cleaned up the en suite bathroom,” said Tyler as she followed him up the stairs. “And I did try to get hold of Dora, but she wasn't at home.” Baffled, he went on, “According to her husband it's…dingo night?”

“Bingo.” Unless Dora had invented some marvelous new game involving Australian wild dogs.

“Excuse me, but I don't think you're in any position to smirk. Who's the one around here whose son wears a bra?”

“Fine. Let's just get on with it.” Lottie took one of the laundry packs and began ripping off the cellophane wrapping. The windows were closed, but they were going to have their work cut out mopping the sodden areas of carpet.

“I feel like a chambermaid,” Tyler drawled as they remade their third bed.

“Bet you're glad you bought this business now.” Though she wouldn't admit it for the world, there was actually something incredibly sexy about a man making a bed. Distracting herself from the sight of his hands expertly folding and smoothing the dark blue king-size Egyptian cotton sheets, Lottie said playfully, “So when are you going out to dinner with that journalist?”

“Don't.” Tyler looked amused. “She dropped enough hints. Not my type.”

“No? Her legs would keep you warm on a cold night.”

“Meow.”

“She started it.” Lottie began stuffing a pillow into one of the pillowcases. “She wouldn't let me be in any of the photos.”

“Did you want to be? You should have said.”

“That's not the point. And she called me a handful.”

Tyler picked up another pillow. “You are a handful.”

Indignantly Lottie said, “I am not!”

“Sometimes you are. It's not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Cheek!” She took a swipe at him across the bed with the pillow. As she did so, making contact with his shoulder, everything went black.

Oh fuck.

Tyler's disembodied voice said, “Did you do that?”

“Only if you're a fuse box.” Putting down the pillow, Lottie inched her way gingerly over to the window. This bedroom overlooked the lake and the other properties dotted around it. More unrelenting blackness greeted her gaze. “Bugger, that's all we need.”

“So that means power's out all over the village.” Tyler's voice, now unexpectedly close behind her, made her jump. “Any idea how long it's likely to last?”

“You can never tell. Sometimes it's just a few minutes. Or it can stay out for hours.” Turning back, unsure exactly where he was standing, Lottie waited for her eyes to adjust enough to be able to make out shapes. “Oops, sorry.” Her outstretched hand brushed against warm flesh.

“Don't apologize.” Tyler's voice was oddly comforting. She felt his breath on her neck and experienced a twinge of…well, something she shouldn't really be experiencing. “Will the kids be OK?”

“Fine. They're over at Mario's. I didn't leave them home alone, if that's what you were wondering.”

“Right. Good.” He paused. “And they like this new guy, I take it? This…Sebastian?”

“They think he's great.” As she said this, she heard him exhale.

“Takes all sorts.”

“Do you just not like him full stop, or are you jealous?” If the lights had been on, Lottie knew she wouldn't have had the nerve to ask the question. For several seconds there was silence apart from the raging storm outside, the wind whistling through the trees, and the rain being flung like handfuls of gravel against the creaking windows.

“I don't think he's good enough for you,” Tyler said finally.

“And?”

“And I don't know why you think he's so fantastic.”

“And?”

“And…I probably am a bit jealous, yes. Since you ask.”

Ooh, there was that delicious feeling again. Quivering with pleasure, Lottie took a step toward him and held her breath. It was naughty and she shouldn't even be thinking it, but if Tyler were to kiss her now, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself kissing him back. That is, if they could manage to find each other's mouths in this pitch-blackness.

“But then I'm pretty sure you already knew that,” Tyler drawled.

Zingy shivers darted down Lottie's spine. Oh heavens, this wasn't supposed to be happening to her—she and Seb were a proper couple now. How many times had she lectured Mario on the evils of cheating? And now here she was, turning into him. She was nothing but a tarty trollop who should be thoroughly ashamed of herself. The trouble was, her conscience appeared to have taken a leaf out of Mario's book and gone AWOL. Seb was great, but there was no escaping the fact that her feelings for Tyler were stronger, and at this moment all she could think about was how it would feel to be—

Ding-de-diddle-de-dooo
, chirruped Lottie's phone, shattering the moment. Dazed, she fumbled in the pocket of her fleece and took it out.

“Mum? We've got a power cut!” It was Nat, sounding excited.

“I know, sweetheart. We have too.”

“All the lights have gone out! And the television! Even the PlayStation doesn't work!”

Lottie smiled. “That's why it's called a power cut.”

“And the toaster doesn't work either! But Dad says we can cook plain bread on a fork on the fire and that'll make it into toast, so we're going to do that in a minute. Isn't that so
cool
?”

“Cool.” Lottie nodded in agreement as Tyler moved away from her. From the tiny amount of light emitted by her phone screen, she was just able to make out the remote expression on his face. She was speaking to her son, and Tyler was distancing himself both mentally and physically.

Nat chose this moment to say beadily, “What are you doing, if it's dark at Harper's Barn?”

Good question. Preparing to hurl myself sluttishly into the arms of your least favorite person on the planet
, thought Lottie. “Well, we've got an awful lot of water to mop up. I suppose we'll have to find some candles and carry on working—oh.”

The lights flickered and came back on. Power was restored. The bedroom seemed blindingly bright.

“Oh no!” Nat was distraught. “The electricity's come back. Now we won't be able to make toast on the fire—I was really looking forward to doing that!”

“Right,” Lottie said when she'd hung up the phone. “Well, at least the power's on.” For a split second she experienced a wild, Nat-like urge to turn it off again, plunging them back into darkness. But it was no good, the moment had passed. Reality had intruded and brought them to their senses, the lights in the master bedroom acting like a bucket of icy water. Slightly ashamed of herself, Lottie realized that she hadn't quite been panting like a dog, but not too far off.

Tyler, who had been watching her intently, reached down and picked up one end of the duvet. “Just as well. We'd better get on with the job.”

Lottie bumped into Cressida outside the village shop. Glancing into Cressida's shopping basket, she raised an eyebrow.

“Always had you down as more of a
Good
Housekeeping
girl myself. Care to explain the offside rule to me?”

Cressida blushed. “Tom and Donny are coming down this weekend.”

“And you're going to challenge them to a game of soccer?”

“Don't make fun of me. They're staying in the spare bedroom,” Cressida explained. “I've just put fresh sheets on the bed and made the room as welcoming as I can, but there wasn't much for Donny. If he wakes up early, he might want something to read. And he likes soccer.”

“He's thirteen,” said Lottie. “He'd probably prefer
Playboy
.”

“Oh yes, I'd really do that, march into Ted's shop and buy a copy of
Playboy
.” Cressida pulled a face. “Anyway, Donny's only a young thirteen. He isn't like that.”

Lottie didn't have the heart to shatter her illusions. “Only teasing. You'll have a great time. Are they coming down on Friday evening?”

“They are.” Barely able to contain her excitement, Cressida said, “I can't wait. Nothing's allowed to go wrong this time. I know it's silly, but I can hardly believe I'm going to see Tom again. I haven't felt so excited for years! It's like being back at school and getting into a tizzy over the Christmas dance.”

“Except this time try not to get drunk on cider and end up covered in love bites.”

Cressida was shocked. “Is that what you did? Surely they didn't serve alcohol at your school dances!”

Lottie loved it that Cressida was so law-abiding. “Of course they didn't serve it. We brought our own and drank it secretly in the cloakrooms. Otherwise how else could we bring ourselves to hold make-out competitions with the boys?”

“Speaking of make-out competitions,” Cressida said playfully, her gaze following the progress of an approaching car. “How are things at work?”

Lottie turned her head as Tyler drove past, raising a hand briefly in greeting. He was on his way into Cheltenham for a business awards lunch and had even dug out his dark blue suit in honor of the occasion. Damn, he looked good in it too. Distracted, Lottie said, “Sorry, what?”

“That answers my question.” Cressida nodded with satisfaction. “Mind you, I expect I'd find it hard to concentrate with someone like that around all day. It must be like having to work in a truffle shop when you're on a diet.”

Lottie nodded sadly. “It is a bit.”

“You must be so tempted to have a nibble.” Her imagination working overtime, Cressida said daringly, “Or just grab him sometimes and tear his wrapper off!”

“Now you're getting carried away. Besides, I have Seb.” Lottie felt it was only fair to point this out.

“And? Am I allowed to ask how it's going?”

“Everything's fine.”

Playfully Cressida said, “Everything?”

She was implying sex. Which was fine, of course it was, it was just that if Lottie were honest, sleeping with Seb wasn't quite the thrilling, heart-stopping experience she'd been hoping for. It was nice rather than spectacular, adequate rather than dazzling. Oh well, maybe they just needed more practice. Anyway, she couldn't tell Cressida this; it wouldn't be fair on Seb. Lottie smiled and said firmly, “It's all great.”

“So,” Cressida went on, “which one do you prefer?”

“Honestly? Marks out of ten? Seven for Seb, nine for Tyler.” Lottie paused, wondering if Tyler was actually a ten. “But it doesn't matter which one I prefer. Nat and Ruby adore Seb. They can't stand the sight of Tyler.” She shrugged and said, “So they've made that decision for me. It's not as if I have the choice.”

“And you're happy with that?” Cressida looked concerned.

“Hey, it's not as if they're making me go out with some hideous old guy. You haven't met Seb yet. Just wait until you see him,” said Lottie. “He's gorgeous.”

* * *

Lottie was downloading the addresses of potential clients who had requested brochures via the website when the door opened and Kate Moss walked into the office.

Not really Kate Moss, but similar enough to bring the name instantly to mind. This girl had long, wavy, light brown hair, a delicate heart-shaped face, and incredible cheekbones. She was wearing a slithery olive-green dress, high-heeled boots, and a billowing cream wool coat with a burnt-orange silk lining.

Lottie, wondering whether a film crew, a stylist, and a makeup artist were about to burst in behind her, said, “Hi there, can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. I'm looking for Tyler?” The girl was hesitant, American; she had the face of Kate Moss and the voice of Jennifer Aniston. Now how could that be fair?

“He's not here. He's gone to an awards lunch in Cheltenham.” Lottie scooted sideways away from the computer and picked up a pen. “Can I take a message? Or maybe I can help you?”

The girl shook her head prettily. “No, that's OK. Do you have any idea when Tyler might be back?”

“Sometime this afternoon. I couldn't give you an exact time. Give me your name,” Lottie said efficiently, “and I'll tell him you were here.”

OK, not efficiently. Nosily.

But to her frustration the girl was shaking her head again. She smiled and reached for one of the color brochures Lottie had been preparing to send off.

“Don't worry, I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble. I'll catch up with him later. All right if I take one of these?”

She had perfect teeth—like little pearls—and an Audrey Hepburn smile. Feeling more and more like Hagrid, Lottie said, “Feel free.”

“Thanks. Bye.” The girl flashed another smile and gracefully retreated from the office. Moments later Lottie heard a car start up and pull away. Launching herself across the desk, she seized the phone and punched out Tyler's number.

It was turned off. Understandably, seeing as he was at an awards ceremony. Hmm, to leave a message or not to leave a message?
Hi, Tyler, this is Hagrid. Now listen, I don't know if you're interested, but there's been this absolutely stunning looking American girl here asking for you. Sorry? Prettier than me? Hell, loads prettier than me!

Lottie pulled a face at her reflection in the PC monitor. Maybe not.

Was that immature of her? Oh well, he'd be back soon enough anyway, and then she'd have a chance to find out who the girl really was.

* * *

Two hours later, Ginny Thompsett from Harper's Barn came into the office to return the bottle of superglue she'd borrowed earlier to fix the snapped heel on her shoe.

“All mended. Thanks for that. They're my favorites,” said Ginny. “And of course Michael's thrilled because it saves him from having to dig out his credit card and pay for a new pair.”

“You could tell him you need a new dress to go with them,” Lottie suggested. “To celebrate saving so much money on new shoes.”

Ginny laughed. “Absolutely a girl after my own heart. Listen, we're having a bit of a party tonight to celebrate Michael's fortieth. His family is all coming over from Dursley. They're great fun. If you're not doing anything else, would you fancy joining us?”

Lottie had taken an instant liking to the Thompsetts, helped along by the fact that when they'd arrived last week they hadn't whined about the still-damp carpets in the bedrooms of Harper's Barn and had taken the lingering traces of Trish Avery's nostril-curling perfume in good part.

“I'd love to.” Even better, Mario was taking Nat and Ruby off to the movies this evening to see some awful sci-fi film. Delighted to be invited to a party instead, Lottie said, “I'll bring a bottle. What time d'you want me?”

“Around eightish. We thought we'd invite Tyler along too,” Ginny added cheerfully.

“That's…fine!” It was, Lottie told herself. Nat and Ruby tolerated her working with Tyler because they had to, but they wouldn't like it if they knew she was socializing with him after hours. Which was why it was extra handy that they'd be out with Mario at the movies.

“So can I ask if there's a little something or other going on between you and Tyler?” Ginny had her head tilted to one side and an inquiring twinkle in her eye.

“We just work together.” The harder Lottie tried not to blush, the hotter her cheeks grew.

“Call me a nosy witch, but I think there could be more to it than that.”

Damn, was it that obvious? Attempting to sound like a Jane Austen heroine, Lottie said primly, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Well, bring him along with you.”

“He's in Dubai.”

“OK then, don't.” Mischievously, Ginny said, “Do you want me to ask Tyler, or will you?”

So much for primness.

“It's your party, you can invite him.” Lottie gave up; first Cressida, now Ginny Thompsett. Honestly, was Hestacombe awash with meddling women?

“I'll pop a note in his mailbox.” Ginny paused. “By the way, any idea who that girl is, outside his house?”

Outside Tyler's house? Lottie's heart sank. “Is she pretty?”

“
Very
. And wearing the most gorgeous cream coat.” Ginny gestured with enthusiasm. “I just came past Fox Cottage on the way up here and there she was in her car by the front gate. Just sitting there in the driver's seat. But I know Tyler isn't seeing anyone at the moment because I asked him the other day. That was when I decided you two would be perfect for each other, by the way.”

Touched, Lottie smiled and said drily, “She came in here earlier asking where Tyler was.”

“Well, I've got to nip up to the shop for cigarettes. But if you like,” Ginny offered, “I can ask her what she's up to on my way back.”

“Thanks, but it's OK.” As she said this, Lottie sensed that it wasn't going to be OK at all, not from her point of view at least. “I'll go down there now and check her out.”