Bernadette frowned at her ringing phone in surprise. Why was her mother calling her in the middle of working at Mr. Anton’s business function? She wasn’t ready to go home yet, was she? “Hi, Mum,” she answered.

“Bernadette,” June said in a whisper. “I need you to come here to Dural right now.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you. Just come here.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me? Are you in trouble?”

“No. I can’t tell you because of that blasted NDA. You have to see it for yourself.”

Bernadette rolled her eyes. “Remember that you can tell me because I’ve signed an NDA myself?”

“Oh. That’s right. Well, I still want you to come. Otherwise, you won’t believe me. We’ll just get into a fight and you might even kick me out of your apartment.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Mum?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, just come here, will you?”

“Okay, fine. But will I be allowed in?”

June was silent for a few seconds. “Just tell Boyd you have to talk to me urgently. He’s seen you before. I’m sure he’ll be nice.”

“Okay. I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Good.” June hung up.

Shaking her head, Bernadette got up from the couch and put on a jacket. Admittedly, she was very curious about what she had to see for herself at Dural.

Her mum must have gotten into some kind of trouble. Why else would June assume they’d get into a fight if Bernadette didn’t see proof of whatever had happened with her own eyes?

Traffic was light, so it didn’t take her long to get there. Well-dressed people were lined up by the door, and Boyd was checking invitations.

Ah, damn. Why didn’t she think of putting on something smarter? Her old jeans and daggy jacket would make her stand out like a sore thumb in there—if Boyd agreed to let her in. More than likely, though, Boyd would just get her mother for her.

She texted June, stating she’d arrived, then waited for a response. The last of the guests had been welcomed and Boyd had closed the door. Perhaps she should have attracted his attention before he’d disappeared. She was most definitely not going to ring the bell.

June answered her text and asked her to wait by the front door. Sighing, she got out of her car and walked towards the house, wrapping her jacket tightly around her. She should have remembered to wear a beanie to help ward off the cold. Who knew how long her mother would make her wait out here?

She breathed a sigh of relief when Boyd opened the door.

“Hello, Bernadette,” he said.

“Good evening, Boyd. How are you?” she said with a smile.

“I’m well. You?”

“Good, thanks. My mum asked me to come. I’m not sure why.”

“Yes, she did say she needs you for something urgent. But she’s very busy right now. Most of the guests have just arrived and Mr. Anton doesn’t like the flow of food and drinks to be interrupted.”

“Okay… um… what do I do, then? Wait in the car?”

Boyd sighed as another vehicle stopped near the front of the house. “If I let you in, can you go straight to the kitchen? The guests are all in the marquee at the back of the house.”

“Okay.”

Boyd opened the door for her. “Just go straight down the hall and to your right. Don’t go through the formal dining room. That’s where the guests are walking through to get to the back garden.”

“Got it. Thanks so much, Boyd!”

“And try not to show yourself to Ross,” Boyd added in a loud whisper.

Bernadette nodded and quickly headed to the kitchen. It was buzzing with activity, with five people doing different things. Her mother was standing by the large kitchen island, transferring yummy looking finger food from a large caterer’s box to attractive serving trays.

“Mum,” she whispered loudly.

June looked up. “Oh, yes. Wait till I empty this thing.”

Bernadette smiled shyly at the others as they glanced at her curiously, but no one asked a question.

Thankfully, it didn’t take her mother long to finish emptying the box. A guy in a waiter’s uniform came in from a back door to take two of the trays June had filled, then went out again. Everything seemed to be going like clockwork—and June broke from the assembly line to drag her to what appeared to be a sunroom next to the kitchen.

“Oh my God, you won’t believe this,” June said, looking flustered.

“What?”

To her surprise, June cupped her face.

“I’m so sorry,” June said gravely.

“What happened, Mum?” she asked impatiently, nervous at the tone her mother had taken.

“Derek’s here.”

“He is?” Bernadette asked with surprise.

“With Holly Stirling, the singer.”

Bernadette frowned. Derek had said he was showing properties to some overseas client tonight. Had he decided to attend a business networking function? “What do you mean he’s with Holly? Did they arrive together?”

June shook her head. “They are together.”

She stared at her mum. No. That couldn’t be.

“Holly Stirling and Derek are girlfriend and boyfriend,” June elucidated. “I saw them with my own eyes embracing each other. And Mr. Anton knows about it. Apparently, they just got back together, so they must have broken up before. They’re keeping it a secret from the public.”

Bernadette swallowed, her throat constricting just like her heart was. So the boyfriend Holly had spoken about the other day—the one who’d given her the scarf she’d lost—was indeed Derek.

Bernadette heaved a ragged sigh, trying with all her might to control her emotions. How could Derek have lied to her like that? Why did he have to lie to her? He’d even told her the other night that he loved her.

“I would have told him off for being an asshole,” June said with a huff, “but I can’t make a scene in here. I’m too scared of getting sacked. But the two of them are even thinking of staying here tonight—in one of the bedrooms!”

“Does Derek know you saw them?”

“Oh, yeah. He definitely saw me all right.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. Just looked at me, then nothing.”

Bernadette shook her head. She couldn’t imagine Derek being that rude, much less hurtful. But how could she explain what her mother had seen?

“You should dump the bastard,” June said angrily. “If you have anything of his at our place, burn it to ashes.”

“I think I’m the one who’s been dumped, Mum,” she said through watery eyes. “I just haven’t been told yet.”

“Hi,” they heard a voice that was unmistakably Holly’s say. “Is Ross’s new housekeeper around?”

“Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Stirling?” asked someone eagerly.

“No, thank you. I just want to meet Ross’s new housekeeper. She’s put some lovely flowers in the vases and I just want to compliment her.”

“Boyfriend-stealing bitch,” June muttered.

Bernadette smiled. At least her mother was standing up for her. She needed that comfort right now.

“I think she went over there with someone,” another answered.

Bernadette took a deep breath to compose herself as they heard footsteps coming their way. Someone else was walking with Holly.

Then they appeared. And Bernadette was eye to eye with the man who’d just broken her heart yet again.

“Bern,” Derek breathed, clearly shocked.

Bernadette blinked back tears. Part of her felt some satisfaction that Derek appeared totally lost—and Holly, too.

“And what do you have to say to my daughter, Derek McCarthy?” June demanded.

“Where’s June?” someone shouted from the kitchen.

“Oh, shit,” June said.

“Go back there, Mum. I’ll be fine here,” Bernadette said calmly.

June hesitated, but nodded and hurried back to her tasks.

“What a mess,” Holly murmured, looking down at the floor.

“So you’re back together,” Bernadette stated bravely.

Derek gulped audibly. “I’m sorry.”

Bernadette shut her eyes, sharp claws scratching at her heart. She couldn’t stand this. She had to leave.

She looked around to see if there was another exit from this room, but she couldn’t spot any. So she started to make her way back to the kitchen.

“Bern,” Derek said, grasping her arm.

She stopped, even though she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Seconds ticked by without Derek saying anything. Finally, he let go of her arm. “I’m sorry.”

She hurried out, but tried to walk naturally for the sake of her mother. When June intercepted her, she smiled brightly. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to have to explain to her coworkers. The less drama they saw, the better.

“I’ll come back for you when you’re done,” she said in a cheery tone.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call a taxi,” June said softly.

Her mother’s unexpected gentleness threatened to break down her self-control. “Thanks, Mum.”

She navigated her way to the front door with a small smile despite her blurry eyes. Fortunately, no one else paid her any attention, and she was able to make it to her car without shedding a tear. But once she’d locked her door, the dam burst.

“Damn you, Derek McCarthy,” she sobbed out in the stillness of the night. “That’s the last time you hurt me—knowingly or unknowingly.”