Page 7 of Hooked On The One That Got Away (Miss Lovelock’s Agency for Broken Hearts #3)

Chapter Seven

‘Harvey, I need to join your friend’s activist group.’

After seeing Charlie, Willow had driven straight back to Harvey’s office. He hadn’t seemed that surprised to see her.

‘I’m not sure that will be possible,’ he apologised. ‘They keep things very tight. They work in separate cells and everything’s on a strictly need-to-know basis.’

‘You can vouch for me,’ said Willow. ‘You know I’m trustworthy!’

‘Of course,’ said Harvey, diplomatically. ‘But it’s not as simple as that.’

He looked faintly embarrassed. ‘I shouldn’t even know that Piggers is involved,’ he confessed. ‘I’m afraid I overheard a clandestine conversation and became convinced he was in the thrall of some gangster types. I rather forced him to come clean.’

Willow considered asking him exactly what kind of friendship he and Piggers had but decided against it.

‘And I certainly shouldn’t have told you ,’ Harvey went on. ‘But I’m not cut out for secrecy. Which is probably why Piggers kept it from me in the first place.’

‘Couldn’t you at least ask him?’ she pleaded. ‘It’s so important to me, Harvey. I honestly don’t think I could survive without my river swims.’

It was the truth, Willow realised. Her daily swims soothed and comforted her, even the icy cold ones. They gave structure to her day and a sense of achievement. They gave her a connection to nature and a feeling of peace and – yes – joy. Willow would be bereft if she couldn’t swim.

‘Very well,’ Harvey agreed, with a sigh. ‘But I’d advise you to be prepared for disappointment.’

What’s new? Willow thought. But she said, ‘Thank you.’

Outside on the street, Willow wrestled with her frustration.

She wasn’t normally an impatient person but the thought of waiting around, powerless to act, was maddening.

Who knew how much crap the water company would dump in the river before they were stopped?

Surely, it was a just a matter of someone capturing the illegal dumping on video.

Wouldn’t that be enough proof? Or should she tell someone else – someone in a position of responsibility at the council, perhaps?

Willow thought about her Council colleagues. They were all very nice people, committed to their work. But the biggest issue they had to deal with was removing illegal posters. The County Council handled the meaty problems, and she didn’t know anyone who worked there, not personally.

And what if they were somehow involved? Maybe County Council officials were being paid to turn a blind eye? Harvey had said that the problem was nationwide, so perhaps corruption was rife? In which case, it would probably do more harm than good for Willow to go whistleblowing.

Dammit, she was stuck. And frustrated. And, even more annoyingly, sad. Despite her best efforts, seeing Charlie had stirred up regret as well as anger. What a waste those five years with him had been. Not to mention the past year she’d spent trying and failing to get over him.

But, oh, how she’d loved him. How happy she’d been in her blissful ignorance. How convinced she’d been that Charlie was The One, her soulmate. And that they’d be together forever.

Willow thought back to when she and Charlie had met.

It had actually been under a table. At an engagement party for one of Willow’s friends from university, held at a flash restaurant in London.

The happy couple-to-be were doing very well in finance in the City and had spared no expense.

Willow had bought a new dress for the occasion, much shorter and sparklier than her usual taste but the sales assistant had sworn that it suited her, and it seemed to fit the glitz of the occasion.

Trouble was that she’d tried it on while standing up, and at the party had discovered that when she sat, the dress rode up so high she was in danger of being arrested for flashing.

Crossing her legs only made it worse, so Willow was forced to spend most of the party on her feet.

By midnight, she was so weary and sore – and to be fair, quite drunk – that she simply had to sit down, and the only place where no one could catch a glimpse of her hooha was under a table.

Willow crawled into her hiding place on all fours and bumped her head on – someone.

A young man, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

His head was tilted sideways to avoid the underside of the table, and he was gazing at her with a smile.

Which, Willow observed, created a ridiculously cute dimple in one cheek.

‘Lost something?’ he asked.

‘My dignity,’ Willow replied. ‘Have you seen it?’

‘Probably in the same place as my tolerance for people who work in finance,’ he said. ‘I’ve already tried to sneak out twice, but I keep getting spotted. It was either hide under here or barricade myself in the loos and listen to those same people do endless lines of coke.’

‘It’s my skirt,’ explained Willow, still on all fours. ‘If I sit down, it rides up to my neck. And if I stay on my feet any longer, I’ll never walk again.’

The young man not only had a dimple, but also kind brown eyes, delightfully shaggy hair that Willow itched to run her fingers through, and the most kissable mouth.

She’d never experienced such instant attraction before, and the sensible part of her warned that champagne was probably a big influence.

The rest of her was responding in a way that meant the sensible part could take a running jump.

She was going home with this man, she knew it.

And she was already imagining what he was going to do to her.

‘I’m Charlie,’ he said.

‘Willow,’ she replied, a little breathlessly.

Charlie cupped her face with his hand and kissed her. His mouth was soft and strong, and the touch of it ignited every nerve in Willow’s body. His tongue flicked against hers and she moaned, and then almost cried out when he broke the kiss.

‘Blimey,’ Charlie murmured, his eyes wide. ‘I think we’d better leave, or we’ll become the after-dinner entertainment.’

‘I’ll fend off anyone who tries to stop us,’ said Willow. ‘I did a self-defence class once.’

‘Good to know.’ The dimple was back. ‘Right, let’s make a run for it.’

The pair slid out from under the table. Charlie whispered, ‘One, two, three – go .’

Willow remembered laughing and stumbling through the partygoers, and once outside, hailing a cab to Charlie’s place, where they’d ripped off their clothes and devoured each other for hours with an intensity of passion that Willow had never before experienced.

And as she walked back from Harvey’s to the council offices, Willow wondered if she would ever feel like that again.