Friday's Child Read Free Page B

when you reach twenty-two. Mum said they missed—” A hand dropped on her shoulder and she froze. Glancing up, she acknowledged Mr. Blue Suit who had managed to come up right behind her, without Patrick noticing.
    That was more than a tad disconcerting. Had he got so focused on Elle that his training went right out of the window? Especially when he’d already identified him as a possible threat.
    “Zeke, this is Patrick, an old friend. Patrick, this is Zeke.”
    Patrick offered the tall, thin chap a hand. “Pleased to meet you.” The hand that took his was firm, the handshake brief, and the glint in his eyes warned him off as surely as the hand on Elle’s shoulder did.
    Dropping his hand, Zeke turned his attention to Elle. “Don’t be long, Lisa. We need lots of orders for the CD tonight.”
    “OK.”
    Patrick narrowed his eyes as Zeke ran his eyes over Elle. He was glad when the man nodded and walked away. “He seems a little possessive. Is he your boyfriend?”
    She shot him a scathing look, causing his cheeks to burn. “No, not that it’s any concern of yours, but he’s my manager. He doesn’t like me resting.”
    “He pays you to work, not fraternize?”
    Elle studied her glass, running a finger around the rim. “Something like that.”
    Patrick wanted to ask more, but her tone indicated it was a closed subject. There was a time to push things and a time to leave them, and right now was definitely the latter. His mind whirled, trying to assimilate all the information he’d gleaned. Not to mention work out where he’d seen Zeke before.
    He nodded to her empty glass. “Want another one?”
    She shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I won’t. I didn’t think clubs were your scene.”
    “I was coming with my brother Liam, who claims to be your biggest fan this side of the equator. However, he stood me up in favor of the game instead. His fiancée, Jacqui, likes football as much as he does. Either that or she’s just humoring him. I wasn’t going to play gooseberry despite it being a cup match.”
    “I prefer rugby.”
    “Really?”
    Elle nodded. “Thirty fit men in tight shirts and shorts running up and down a field. At least, according to the girls I work with.”
    Patrick laughed. “Jacqui says the same thing.”
    “But going back to rugby, what I like is the fact the players don’t fall down and act hurt like footballers do.” She smiled properly for the first time since joining him. “They fall down, and they get right up again and carry on, bleeding all over the place. Footballers lie there and go, ‘Ref, he tripped me up!’”
    The laughter died down. Patrick studied his glass for a moment. He had to know why she left all those years ago. “What happened that weekend of the house party, Elle? Where did you go? When I woke, you were gone. No one saw you after that. You just vanished off the face of the planet.”
    Elle set the glass down on the table. “Stuff happened. I had to go home.”
    Patrick pressed his hands together, his stomach twisting. “Was it…?” He took a deep breath. “Was it something I did or said? Did I hurt you or push you away?”
    She shook her head, shoving a hand through her hair. “No, no, it wasn’t you.” But her voice wobbled and experience told him she wasn’t being entirely truthful. “I have to go.” As Patrick reached over to grasp her hand, she pulled away, rising quickly. “Please don’t. I have to go. Thanks for the drink.”
    Patrick’s entire body chilled and numbed as she moved away from him. What had he done? One minute she was chatting and the next the portcullis came slamming down, the drawbridge went up and she was gone. Whether Elle was here or not, the guy he’d been watching for hadn’t made an appearance. He listened to half of the second set, and then walked out to where he parked his car.
    He wasn’t at all happy with the fact she worked there. Was she involved? Or, if not, could he warn her and get her away