‘I’ll meet him.’ She hurried into the hall and started pulling on her jacket. ‘I’ll make him see that going to Greenwich makes perfect sense.’
‘Mia, you can’t. He’ll think it’s weird.’
‘Maybe.’ She pushed her feet into some shoes, grabbed her bag. ‘Or maybe he’ll think it’s a...creative solution!’
‘It’s certainly creative.’ The smile she could hear in his voice faded to a sigh. ‘You’re crazy, you know that?’
She opened the door, squinted into the city sunshine. ‘But you still love me, right?’
‘Always.’
She smiled, then rummaged for her sunglasses and slipped them on. ‘Now, tell me where Molenaar’s staying, then get yourself to the planetarium.’
She preferred these small, boutique hotels to the generic glamour of the bigger five-star places. The reception lobby of this one was particularly nice. It had a cosy vibe—quirky art on the walls, comfy-looking sofas upholstered in dense fabric. If Molenaar felt at home in this hotel, it meant he wasn’t flashy. She liked that.
A desk clerk in a blue shirt looked up as she approached. ‘Hello. Can I help you?’
‘I have a meeting with one of your guests.’ She smiled. ‘Theo Molenaar.’
‘Your name, please?’
She paused for a beat. ‘Ashley Boelens.’ There’d be time for explanations later.
The man nodded and stabbed an extension code into the phone.
She drew in a slow breath, trying to quash the tremble that had just started in her knees. Hatching a plan to help Ash was all very well, but there was no getting away from it: Molenaar was expecting a business meeting, not an impromptu jaunt to Greenwich. He might be offended. Or dismissive. Maybe this wouldn’t help at all. Maybe she was messing everything up...
There was a little throat-clearing noise. The desk clerk was looking at her, his eyebrows slightly arched. ‘Mr Molenaar will be down in a moment. Please take a seat.’
In the seating area, she lowered herself onto a sofa, pulling her bag onto her lap. Mr Molenaar... A knot tightened in her stomach. She didn’t know what he looked like—or how old he was. There’d been no pictures with the article she’d read and in her five years as a features writer she hadn’t come across him. Of course, since she didn’t write about tech or astronomy, that was hardly surprising. She shifted on the sofa, running her fingers through her fringe. If she could just switch off her stupid nerves she’d be fine, but her nerves seemed to have developed a mind of their own and they were jangling chaotically.
She glanced at the lift doors and saw the floor numbers flashing...counting down. He was on his way!
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, suddenly noticing the bulky weight of the bag in her lap. Lotte would be laughing at her: Mia! You look like Mary Poppins! Hurriedly, she turfed it onto the sofa, but her phone spilled out along with a lipstick and two pens. Frantically she raked them back inside, yanked the zip shut and then she looked up.
Blink! Breathe!
A thirty-something gorgeous man was standing in front of the closing doors looking right at her. He was tall, clean-shaven. His dark-blond collar-length hair was swept back from his forehead, so it was easy to see his brow furrowing as he gazed over. And then his eyes moved on, sweeping the lobby, clearly looking for the real Ash Boelens.
She knew she ought to go over and introduce herself, but for some reason she couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he have been much older or at the very least a stereotypical computer geek? What she’d come here to do was audacious enough without having to contend with Molenaar’s movie star looks.
Helplessly, she watched him go over to the desk, exchange words with the clerk, and then he was turning, looking at her again.
Breathe.
She forced herself up onto unsteady feet.
He was walking towards her, eyes narrowing, softening, and then he was holding out his hand.
‘Ash...?’ His eyes were green, filled with confusion and curiosity. ‘I’m Theo Molenaar. But I’m...’ He hesitated. ‘I was expecting...’
His tone was friendly, his accent light. There was kindness in his face, a smile hiding at the corners of his mouth. She felt her lips curving upward. She liked him, just like that. Easy as pie.
‘You were expecting my brother.’ She put her hand into his. ‘I’m Mia Boelens.’
His fingers flexed around hers, warm and just firm enough.
‘So, Mia...what’s the story?’ Something in his eyes wouldn’t let her go. ‘Are you Ash’s business partner? Is he coming?’
‘Ash is coming, yes—and, no, I’m not his business partner.’
A wisp of hair was tickling her neck. She tucked it behind her ear and glanced at her feet, noticing the hem of her slouchy grey trousers skimming her patent loafers. Theo was smartly dressed in a blue suit and crisp white shirt. His brown shoes were well-polished. She’d been in writing mode when Ash had called and that was how she’d left the house. Without looking, she couldn’t even remember if she was wearing a plain white tee-shirt under her jacket, or the black one with the feminist slogan. Certainly, she wasn’t dressed to impress. There hadn’t been time.
She lifted her eyes to his. There was warmth behind the intensity of his gaze; something else too which was playing havoc with her pulse. ‘Unfortunately Ash has been delayed. He’s stuck on a train. It’s not his fault—it’s a signalling fault.’
His eyebrows quirked. Maybe he was amused. She moistened her lips. ‘This meeting is very important to my brother, Mr Molenaar—’
‘Stop!’
The breath caught in her throat. She’d screwed up.
‘My name is Theo.’ He was smiling properly now. White, even teeth.
She exhaled slowly, feeling a small wash of relief. He
