‘Ah, Livy, come on!’

‘Piss off.’ I don’t look back. There’s likely to be explosions if I do. But then I think of something and swing around. ‘Where did you get Miller’s card?’

He shrugs. ‘That black-haired bird who was at Ice’s opening night. Hot as f**k!’

Cassie.

I feel my hackles rise and the pressure in my head mount. The bitch! I steam off, worrying about my mounting fury. I want to hit something. Hard.

‘Oh!’ My yelp is high-pitched as I’m captured and tossed up so I’m lying across his arms. He changes direction and strides off down the road, back in the direction of the coffee house, ignoring my incredulous look.

‘Sass,’ he says simply. ‘I’m kind of glad you’ve hung on to it.’

My body lets up on the tension stored and I relax in his arms. ‘I love him, Gregory.’

‘I can see that,’ he admits begrudgingly. ‘And does he love you?’

‘Yes,’ I answer, because I know for certain that he does. He just doesn’t say it so straightforwardly. But that’s his way.

‘Does he make you happy?’

‘More than you’ll ever know, but I’d be so much happier if people just left us alone.’ I feel him deflate beneath my suspended body on a sigh.

He stops and places me on my feet, then takes a solid grip of my petite shoulders. ‘Baby girl, I get a bad vibe. He’s so . . .’ He pauses, his hand reaching to his forehead and rubbing in a clear sign of worry.

‘So what?’

His lips purse and he drops both hands to his side where they hang lifelessly. ‘Dark.’

I nod, taking a deep breath. ‘I know every dark thing there is to know about him. I’m making it all light again. I’m helping him and whether you agree and accept it or not, he has helped me, too. He’s my someone, Gregory. I’ll never give him up.’

‘Wow.’ My friend exhales, his cheeks puffing. ‘Those are some strong words, Olivia.’

I shrug. ‘That’s how it is. Don’t you see? He isn’t holding me captive or forcing me into anything. I’m there willingly and because I’m supposed to be. I hope you find your someone someday, and I hope you feel as consumed by them as I do Miller. He’s special.’ I mentally wince at my own words, tossing that thought far, far away.

Peace seems to settle over me under the evident realisation in Gregory’s expression. I’m not sure if he understands, and maybe he never will, but acceptance would be a good starting point. I don’t expect them to be bosom buddies. I don’t think Miller could be bosom buddies with anyone; he’s not a people person. He doesn’t mix well with anyone, least of all interferers. But the least they can do is be civil. For me, they should find the strength to do that.

‘I’ll try,’ Gregory whispers, almost reluctantly, but it still makes my heart dance with happiness. ‘If he’s willing to try, then I’m game.’

I smile, probably the brightest I ever have, and launch myself into his arms, making him stagger back on a small chuckle. ‘Thank you. He cares about me, too, Gregory. Just as much as you.’ I neglect to mention that he probably cares more, knowing that won’t help my cause.

There are no more words, just us hugging each other with the energy of too many weeks’ worth of lost time until I finally pull out of his hold, victory and elation spiralling through my whole body. His willingness, of course, is riding on Miller agreeing, but I have no doubt that he will. As long as there’s a promise of zero interference and my happiness, then we should be good. I kiss his handsome cheek and link his arm, turning to continue our journey to the coffee house.

And freeze.

The blood drains from my head and Gregory grabs me with his spare arm to steady me. ‘Livy? What’s up?’

The white BMW parked at the kerb is unfamiliar, but it’s not the swanky car that has my interest. It’s the woman leaning up against the side who holds my attention, watching us as she draws on a cigarette. I’ve seen her once before and I’ll never forget her face.

Sophia.

She has a beautiful raincoat on that’s as polar white as her vehicle, her lips are blood-red, and her blond, sharp bob is as perfect as it was the last time I had the pleasure. I feel sick.

‘Livy?’ Gregory’s concerned voice shakes me back to life, pulling my eyes away from the smug look splattered all over her flawless face. ‘Shit, you’re all white.’ His hand rests on my forehead. ‘You gonna throw up?’

‘No,’ I insist weakly, considering the high possibility that I really will. This woman, above all the others in Miller’s life I’ve encountered, I’m wary of most of all. For one thing, she’s been in Miller’s apartment in the middle of the night. She was also sipping wine, all at home, and that thought hasn’t crossed my mind until now. There’s something different about this one, and I don’t like it. Not one little bit. After clearing the air with Gregory, the last thing I need is her making a scene, warning me off or belittling me.

Trying desperately to gather myself, I force a smile and tug on Gregory’s arm. ‘Are we ever going to make it to Costa?’

‘I was just wondering that myself.’ He smiles and follows my lead, not appearing to have noticed anything untoward, other than me having a strange moment. Sophia could screw that up, and when I hear the clicking of designer heels on the pavement behind me, I know immediately that she’s about to.

‘Olivia, I believe,’ she purrs, making every muscle in my body tense. My footsteps falter, my eyes clenching shut in silent hope that if I ignore her, she might go away. I doubt it, but I’m willing to give it a go. I continue walking. Gregory’s speaking, yet I can’t hear a word, just the distant hum of his tone rattling on in the distance. I can hear her, though. ‘Or do you answer to sweet girl these days?’

My heart stops in my chest and my feet stop beating the pavement. There’s no escape, and when Gregory glances over his shoulder in curiosity, I know I’m about to be forced into a confrontation. I slowly turn, finding her just a few steps behind me. She takes a slow draw on her cigarette, watching me closely.

‘Can I help you?’ I ask, as evenly and casually as I can muster, not bothering to look and gauge Gregory’s expression. I know it’ll be inquisitive, and I can’t rip my wary gaze from a knowing, haughty one, anyway.

‘Oh, I think you can,’ she replies, flicking the butt of her cigarette into the gutter. ‘Let’s take a drive, shall we?’ Her arm extends towards the BMW and I look to find a driver holding the back door open.

‘Who’s this?’ Gregory finally speaks up, moving in closer to me.

‘Just a friend,’ Sophia answers for me, alleviating the pressure of dreaming up a convincing answer before Gregory probes further. Except I’m not sure her explanation of who she is will wash.

‘Livy?’ Gregory nudges me in the shoulder, forcing me to confront him. His brow furrows in question.

‘A friend,’ I mumble feebly, my mind racing in search of my next move. I’m coming up with nothing. She referred to me as sweet girl. Miller’s been speaking with her, and he’s been speaking with her about me?

‘I haven’t got all day.’ Sophia breaks into my thoughts with her impatience.

‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’

‘But I have plenty to tell you – at least, if you care anything for Miller at all . . .’ She trails off provocatively, and my legs shock me by automatically carrying me towards the car, the enticement of her words and potential information pulling me in.

‘Livy!’ Gregory calls, but I don’t turn back. I don’t need to see his face and I don’t need him deterring me from doing something that could be incredibly stupid. ‘Olivia, what are you doing?’

I look behind me and see Sophia’s driver intercept Gregory, stopping him from coming after me.

Gregory frowns at him. ‘Who the hell are you? Get out of my way.’

The driver’s hand lifts and settles on Gregory’s shoulder. ‘Be wise, boy.’ His tone is oozing threat, and Gregory peers past him, still frowning, confusion rife on his handsome face.

‘Olivia!’ He starts to struggle with the driver, but he’s a big man. A threatening man. I get in the car.

The door shuts and a few moments later, the other rear door opens and Sophia sinks into the leather. I must be stark-raving mad. I don’t like this woman, and I know for sure I’m not going to like what she says. But there’s an obscenely unreasonable desire for knowledge rippling through me. If she knows something that can help, I have to find out what it is. More knowledge. Knowledge that’ll likely break my fallen heart, or possibly just break me.

The car pulls away from the kerb, just as Gregory starts hammering on the window next to me. I hate myself for it, but I ignore him.

‘Boyfriend?’ Sophia asks, smoothing down her coat.

I’m about to snap a retort, something along the lines of Miller being my boyfriend, but something stops me. Instinct? ‘He’s my best friend. He’s also g*y.’

‘Ah!’ she laughs. ‘How very idyllic. The g*y best friend.’

‘Where are we going?’ I ask to change the subject. I don’t want her to know anything more about my life.

‘Just a pleasant drive.’

I scoff. Nothing about being with Sophia is pleasant. ‘You said you had information. What is it?’ Let’s cut to the chase. I don’t want to be in this car and now I’m determined to remove myself from it fast. Just as soon as this woman divulges exactly why I’m in it.

‘First and foremost, I’d like you to walk away from Miller Hart.’

It’s a request, but delivered in such a way that there could be no mistaking the threat. My heart, my soul, my hope, it all sinks. But Miller’s words – everything about damage control and diversion is suddenly all I can hear. No one can know about us, and although it kills me, I know what I must do. ‘There’s nothing to walk away from. I saw him a few times.’ I feel like I could shut down, give in, and she’s only just getting into her swing. She has lots more to say; I can feel it.

‘He’s not available.’

I frown, focusing on blue eyes that scream victory. This is a woman who always gets her way. ‘That’s of no interest to me.’

‘Oh.’ She smiles. It makes my skin crawl. ‘You’re rather close by to his apartment.’

I nearly falter, but just catch my composure before it rumbles me. ‘My friend lives nearby.’

‘Hmmm.’ She opens up a structured Mulberry handbag and reaches in, pulling out an engraved silver cigarette case. Her condescending hum riles me. I can feel irritation overriding the uneasiness, and I conclude that to be a good thing. Sass, damn it, don’t fail me now! Her long fingers select a cigarette from the neat row held tidily under a silver brace, and she taps it on the lid before slipping it between pouting lips. ‘Miller Hart hasn’t got time to be wasting on a curious little girl.’

My neck retracts on my shoulders as she lights up. ‘Excuse me?’

Taking a long pull on her cigarette, she regards me thoughtfully and blows out a stream of smoke in my direction. I ignore the cloud of putrid air that engulfs me, keeping my eyes on her. I’m not backing down. My sass appears from nowhere and stands strong by my side.

‘Most women have fun with Miller Hart, sweet girl.’ She emphasises Miller’s term of endearment for me. ‘And some, like you, stupidly think they’ll get more. You won’t. In fact, I believe he called you “just a little girl who’s too curious for her own good. I’ve taken her money, had fun with her, nothing more.”’