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‘Oh,’ she said dully. But he hadn’t taken time out of his day merely to chat. ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked, knowing in advance that she wasn’t going to lift a finger to help if he was still insistent on claiming guardianship of Violette.
‘I’d like to see you,’ he stated.
Why her heart should give a little flip just then, she had no idea. He wasn’t asking her for a date, for goodness’ sake! Not that she’d go out with him if he was. ‘I’ve a full appointments book today.’ She countered that peculiar little heartbeat—why should she want to see him? Grief!
‘I meant outside of business hours. I’d like to call round at your flat this evening. Unless, of course, you’d prefer we shared dinner while we...’
‘My flat will be fine,’ she said hurriedly, too late realising that in her haste to show him she had no wish to have dinner with him, she had taken another option she didn’t want either. ‘Presumably this is in connection with the baby?’ she queried, just to let him know that she wasn’t interested in entertaining him socially.
‘Of course,’ he replied, just as if the notion of seeing her socially had never for a minuscule moment so much as occurred to him. ‘Seven-thirty?’
‘Seven-thirty,’ she agreed. Simultaneously their phones went down.
Ellena seemed to take a queue of phone calls after that, some of them needing action, so it was lunchtime by the time she got round to ringing her solicitor. ‘Mr Ollerenshaw has left for the day on other business,’ his secretary informed her. ‘He’ll be out of the office until Monday—can anyone else help?’
Ellena declined, but made an appointment to see Mr Ollerenshaw on Monday. She liked the fatherly man and, as well as having a first-class legal head on his shoulders, she remembered him as being warm and kind. She’d wait and see what Gideon Langford had to say that evening, and perhaps would have more to check with Mr Ollerenshaw on Monday.
She was late getting home. That wasn’t unusual on a Friday. She liked to clear her desk, and, having had Thursday off work, there had been yesterday’s work to catch up on. She just had time to make herself a sandwich and ponder on whether she should make Gideon one too. She raised her eyes skywards—was she going mad? This man was coming to try and talk her into forfeiting any claim she intended to make for Violette. If he hadn’t had dinner—let him starve!
Ellena did consider changing from her smart all-wool light navy suit and into trousers and shirt. She decided against it. She had an idea that to take away her business suit for something less formal might give him the edge, make her oddly vulnerable somehow. Oh, rot, she was letting her fear that the Langford family would take Violette from her get to her.
Gideon Langford arrived a minute after the appointed time. ‘You found the address all right, then,’ she commented. He was in her home and good manners decreed she was polite to him to start with—even if he’d be leaving with a flea in his ear! ‘Coffee?’ she enquired, her good manners working overtime. She had never thought her sitting room tiny, but he seemed to fill it.
‘Thanks,’ he accepted, and wandered out to her kitchen and watched her while she made the coffee.
In her view, depending on what he had to say, he might not be around long enough to drink it, but—painful though it was to remember—he need not have offered her a lift to Austria in his private jet on Wednesday.
She made herself a coffee as well and carried a tray to the sitting room. ‘Take a seat,’ she invited and, sitting down herself, looked at him opposite her, his long legs stretched out some way. ‘Have you seen Violette today?’ she asked by way of an opening as he drank some of his coffee.
‘No,’ he replied, and asked sharply, ‘Have you?’
She shook her head, and saw no harm in revealing, ‘I’m taking legal advice on Monday.’
‘An excellent idea,’ Gideon answered to her surprise. ‘Though I may be able to save you the trouble.’
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