Page 36 of Meet Me at Sunset

Lucas was utterly confused by the events of that evening, feeling completely clueless as to why his restaurant had been closed down, beyond what those two goons had told him.

They’d said the rent hadn’t been paid, but that was impossible – it was Paulo’s responsibility, and Lucas knew they were making enough money to cover it.

Sure, the cashflow could be tight, but if there had been a major problem, Paulo would have spoken to him about it.

Lucas had seen large payments going out of the account, and Paulo had assured him he had everything under control.

Lucas had been calling his number repeatedly, before eventually giving up. Now, he rolled over on the Egyptian cotton sheets, reaching for his phone from the bedside table. The screen illuminated the darkness as Lucas tried again. Nothing. The number was no longer in service.

What did it mean? Anxiety prickled across Lucas’s skin, his racing mind refusing to let him rest. His childhood friend had swindled him?

But for what reason? So that he could steal a few months’ rent money from the company bank account?

It didn’t make sense. They’d known one another for twenty years; Lucas would have trusted him with his life.

He wasn’t na?ve – he knew that once they were older, and his mother’s company had gone stratospheric, money had become a source of tension between them.

The difference in their situations inevitably drove a wedge between them, no matter how generous Lucas tried to be.

But Paulo’s family had done well for themselves, too; their boat hire business had been hugely successful, boosted by the massive influx of monied tourists that had transformed their lives from the poor farming family Lucas had first known.

And Paulo had his fingers in all sorts of pies, never one to pass up a potential business opportunity.

He was a hustler, and Lucas respected that.

Paulo loved dressing in designer labels, living the high life.

It was true that he’d been acting strangely recently, but Lucas couldn’t tie all the pieces together. He had to be missing something …

In truth, their relationship had fundamentally changed after the accident.

When Lucas had first woken from his coma, he couldn’t remember a thing, but snatches of memory had returned to him over time.

His therapist had warned him that might happen.

Lately, Lucas had been having terrifying flashbacks that he didn’t dare to share with anyone.

He remembered the feel of the cold steering wheel beneath his hands, the blackness of the night through the misty windscreen.

But there was no way he could have been driving, Lucas assured himself.

Besides, he distinctly remembered Andre taking the keys from the valet before climbing into the driver’s seat.

He knew now that his father should never have got behind the wheel either – the cocaine levels in his system shown by the autopsy results proved that beyond doubt.

As Lucas tossed and turned in his king-size bed, his mind drifted to Stephanie, and he felt an overwhelming urge to talk to her about the way he was feeling.

Memories of her invaded his thoughts as he remembered their passionate kiss.

It was more than just the physical for him; they shared a connection, and he wanted to confess his fears about the accident to her.

He couldn’t shake the memory – real or invented – that he’d been driving, and that Paulo had somehow been there too …

Perhaps Paulo could help solve the mystery. If only he could find him.

Outside the window, the sun was coming up.

It was his mother’s important show today, and he was supposed to attend.

Lucas sighed and tried Paulo’s number again: still disconnected.

Then, in a moment of inspiration, dialled a different number.

It rang for a long time, but just as he was expecting it to go to voicemail, someone picked up.

‘Lucas?’ Elle sounded sleepy, and he suspected he’d woken her up. ‘What is it?’

‘Have you seen Paulo?’

There was a noise in the background and – Lucas couldn’t be sure – was that another voice? ‘Paulo?’ Elle replied languidly. ‘Not since the party. Why?’

Lucas frowned. ‘Is there someone there with you?’

‘Of course not, and why do you care anyway?’

‘Look, I haven’t seen him for a couple of days,’ Lucas said carefully. ‘He’s not picking up my calls.’

‘Really,’ said Elle, sounding completely uninterested.

‘If you do hear from him, tell him to call me.’

‘Sure. Wait … Before you hang up. I’m glad you called. There’s something you need to know.’

Lucas sighed inwardly. He’d known it was a bad idea calling Elle, but he’d been desperate. Now he was beginning to regret his decision, imagining she’d want a favour of some kind. ‘What is it?’

Elle paused for a fraction of a second. ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘What?’ Lucas felt as though the breath had been punched violently out of him. ‘Is it mine?’

‘Screw you, Lucas.’

‘I didn’t mean … I just meant … Christ, Elle. How long have you known?’

‘Not long.’

Lucas’s mind was racing. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know …’ She sniffed, tearfully, ‘Can we talk?’

‘Sure, of course.’ His tone was gentler now. ‘Look, whatever happens, I’ll stand by you and the baby and—’

‘OK, Lucas, we can talk about it all later,’ Elle said, sniffling.

‘Where’s good for you?’

‘Get me on the guest list for the show. We can talk afterwards.’

Lucas shook his head in disbelief. ‘After what happened at the yacht party? There’s no way my mother will—’

‘Oh grow up, Lucas.’ Her voice was flinty now, the tearful Elle of a moment ago now gone. ‘You’re about to be a father, and all you care about is what Mummy says? Be a man.’

Lucas bristled, but hated that Elle had a point. ‘OK, OK, I’ll smooth things over. Then we can talk afterwards.’

‘Good,’ Elle said, and hung up.

Lucas lay in bed, watching as the sun came up, mind racing. His business partner had gone AWOL, he suspected he’d been involved in the death of his father, and now his ex-girlfriend was pregnant with his baby. At least there was no way the day could get any worse.

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Elle rolled over in bed, smiling to herself, as Paulo strode into the room wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

He had a great body, Elle thought lazily as she watched him walk towards her.

It was tight and muscular, like a boxer’s, with tribal art tattoos covering his arms and a snake curling its way across his chest. He climbed into bed and kissed her hungrily.

‘Did you tell him?’ he asked, biting her neck playfully.

‘Yeah,’ Elle said, giggling. ‘He reacted exactly like you said he would.’

‘I guess it’s a big day for you tomorrow,’ he said, as he moved his attention lower, his tongue trailing a path down to her cleavage.

‘Once that model calls in sick, I’ll be waiting to step in. Thanks for helping me with that,’ Elle murmured, gasping as his hand slid inside her bra.

‘It was easy – I just sprinkled laxative in her drink. Lucky that you knew which bar they were going to in Palma.’

‘My friend, Anouk, is walking in the show, so she called me yesterday. We shared an apartment in Milan when we were both starting out …’

‘Tell me more,’ Paulo grinned. ‘I want to hear about everything you and your model friends did together.’

‘Paulo!’ Elle squealed, playfully slapping his firm backside. She knew that this was a form of revenge for both of them, but there was nothing to say it couldn’t be fun, too. ‘So what about you? What’s your big plan?’

‘You’ll see.’

‘I thought you were Lucas’s best friend?’

Paulo snorted dismissively. ‘Goes both ways, right? Once upon a time, maybe. When we were kids. But things change. Life isn’t a fairytale, and Lucas needs to learn that.

But let’s not talk about him now. I can think of something else I’d much rather be doing,’ he grinned, as his hands slid down her body.

His fingertips trailed over her flat stomach, stirring heat between her thighs, and Elle moaned loudly, all thoughts of Lucas firmly pushed from her mind.