‘Yes.’ She looked puzzled. ‘What are you saying?’
He moistened his lips. ‘I’m saying that I’d also like to keep the connection between Madelon and myself private. I don’t want anyone to know that we’re related.’
She frowned. ‘So you didn’t want me to tell Ash?’
‘It’s fine for Ash to know, but he can’t tell anyone else.’
‘Why? Why does it matter?’
He was relieved that she knew something of his history. It meant his explanation would stack up. He set his coffee down on the deck. ‘For the same reason I keep my charity work private. In the wrong hands, facts can get twisted. I don’t want to expose the rest of my family to the wrong kind of scrutiny. Bear in mind our background, Mia. A deadbeat father, so drunk that he cycled in front of a tram and killed himself. Why do you think Madelon changed her name?’
Her eyes held him softly. ‘I’m so sorry about your father, even though I know you’re not.’ She put her mug down and slipped her hands over his. ‘To be so lost, to be so beyond help... I find that very sad.’ For a beat she looked away and then her eyes were on him again, recognition flaring. ‘It’s why you didn’t want to go over to Madelon that night, isn’t it? You didn’t want to be seen with her, photographed with her?’
‘Partly.’ He laced his fingers into hers. ‘But it was also because I didn’t want to leave your side.’
Her expression softened momentarily but then she was frowning again. ‘I don’t think people would care about your background, Theo. Quite the opposite. I think people who’ve conquered adversity and go on to become successful—they inspire others.’
‘You’re right, but we’re not talking about people generally.’ A knot tightened in his stomach. ‘We’re talking about the press. The media loves to destroy its icons. Fred Zucker—remember him? Cricketer, role model, patron of his own charity for young people. Fighting gang culture through sport. He’s a friend of mine; a thoroughly good person. But he had an uncle who’d been engaged in dubious activity with young boys. When the press found out, Zucker’s whole family was dragged through the gutter. There were insinuations that Fred had known what was going on...’ He disentangled his fingers from hers, rubbed the back of his neck. ‘The sins of the fathers, Mia. They come back, especially if there’s money to made out of it.’
‘It’s a minefield.’ Her tongue touched her bottom lip. ‘So...what about Lotte?’
His heart stumbled again. Last night she’d mentioned Lotte... He’d been going to talk to her about provisos but then they’d gone to watch the stars. He tried to keep his voice even. ‘Does she know about Madelon?’
‘I haven’t told her anything about you.’
Relief washed over him.
‘But I wanted to offer her a shoot, remember, to go with the interview piece...?’
‘You can still offer her a shoot. Just don’t tell her that Madelon’s my sister, okay?’
‘But... Lotte’s my friend.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘How do you live like this? Where do you draw the line with who can know what? Doesn’t it drive you crazy?’
If only she knew. Suddenly his head was pounding. Since Eline there’d been no one, and now he remembered why he’d sworn off relationships. Being close to someone widened the circle, made everything much more complicated. More than anything, he wanted to be with Mia, but at that moment he needed space; needed not to be answering questions. He got to his feet. ‘It’s hard, yes, but it’s just the way it has to be.’
‘Are you leaving?’ She rose from her seat, putting her hands on his forearms. ‘I thought you wanted to see the cabin...’
Her gaze was open, traces of pain and confusion behind her eyes. His chest tightened. The thought of hurting her frightened him more than anything, but he couldn’t stay. He was suffocating. Direk was coming to the house at eleven to talk about ideas for the sitting room. If he bent the truth a bit, he could spare her feelings.
He took her face in his hands. ‘I do want to see the cabin, but Direk’s coming over with paint and goodness knows what else. I’d completely forgotten about it until now.’
Her eyes searched his, turning him over, and then her gaze softened. ‘Don’t let him talk you into black, okay? I’ll text you a photo of my dress so you can show him the colours you like.’
He kissed her softly. ‘He knows the colours already, but send me a photo anyway...of yourself.’ He tasted her lips again, felt desire thrumming in his veins. ‘Something to keep me going until I get back.’
Her eyebrows arched. ‘Are you objectifying me?’
That was her gift—the way she could make him smile even when his head was throbbing. ‘Of course not. I’d never do such a thing.’
CHAPTER TEN
HER PHONE WAS VIBRATING. She stopped typing, glancing at the unfamiliar number before swiping the screen. ‘Hello? Mia Boelens...?’
‘Mia! It’s Eline... Eline de Vries.’
Her heart stalled. ‘Hi!’ She cleared her throat. ‘How nice to hear from you. Lotte said you might be calling.’ She gritted her teeth, trying to breathe calmly.
‘There was no might about it! I loved the Dilly and Daisy write-up you did, and I’ve been devouring your blog. It’s terrific!’
‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘So...we need to meet! I know the event’s a while away, but I have to plan well ahead because of my schedule. I like to be organised.’
Mia glanced at her open journal. Ticks, asterisks, underlining. Being well-organised was in her DNA so she couldn’t hold it against Eline freakin’ de Vries. ‘I’m the same.’ Her professional instincts must have kicked in because she was speaking competently evenly though her heart was throwing shapes in her chest. ‘When do you want to meet, and where?’
‘Could you make this Friday? Early evening, at my apartment? I hope you don’t mind but it’s easier that way.
