looking at Grace, ‘so I’ll drop you and...your sister, I presume?’ At her nod, he continued, ‘I’ll drop you where you need to go. What’s the address?’
Bella definitely didn’t want to leave Grace alone tonight, and her own flat wasn’t big enough for two. Biting her lip, she gave him Grace’s address. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘We both really appreciate this. Especially as you didn’t have to wait.’
‘No problem.’
She helped Grace into the car. Grace still hadn’t said a word. Worried, Bella took her hand and squeezed it; but Grace didn’t return the pressure. And this time nobody seemed disposed to make any small talk. With every second, Bella felt more and more awkward.
Then, just as the taxi turned into Grace’s road, Grace threw up. All over Hugh’s posh Italian shoes and suit trousers.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she mumbled.
She looked almost as mortified as Bella felt—and Bella had no idea what to say. What could you say when your sister threw up over your new boss? Apart from an equally apologetic, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Hugh brushed it aside. ‘These things happen. Do you need help getting her indoors?’
‘Thank you, but no—I think you’ve done more than enough to help us, this evening.’ Bella took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’ll pay for valeting the taxi and I’ll pick up the bill for dry-cleaning your suit and replacing your shoes.’
‘We’ll sort it out later,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you can manage?’
‘I’m sure,’ Bella fibbed. At least she had Grace’s spare door key, so actually getting into the flat wouldn’t be a problem. ‘And thank you. And sorry. And—’
‘Just get your sister safely inside,’ Hugh cut in. ‘We’ll sort out everything later.’
‘Thank you. And I’m sorry,’ Bella whispered again, and helped Grace out of the taxi.
This really wasn’t how Hugh had expected to spend a Friday evening. Or how he’d expected to meet the newest member of his team.
The poor woman had looked horrified when her sister threw up everywhere.
Did Bella often rescue her sister like that? he wondered. Funny, the other woman had been dressed so soberly, in a navy linen dress and sensible shoes. Looking at them together, most people would’ve guessed that the younger woman was the one who partied too hard and would be most likely to throw up in the back of a taxi and need looking after.
Or maybe Bella’s sister hadn’t been drunk. Maybe she’d been ill. But then surely Bella would’ve said that her sister was ill, or even called an ambulance?
But it was none of his business. He should just take a step back and ignore it.
‘I’m sorry about all that,’ he said to the driver. ‘If you can drop me home, I’ll pay for the cost of valeting the taxi and lost fares.’ He gave the driver the address.
Though he still couldn’t get Bella Faraday out of his head. Especially the moment when she’d kissed his cheek; it had felt as if he’d been galvanised. And then, when she’d shaken his hand, every nerve-end had been aware of the feel of her skin against his.
Hugh was definitely attracted to her. More attracted than he’d been towards anyone in a very long time.
But.
After the whole fiasco with Jessie, he’d learned his lesson well. Hugh would never, ever mix work and pleasure again. As Tarquin had just hired Bella as their new graphic artist, it meant that she came firmly under the category of work. So he’d have to just ignore the pull of attraction in future and treat her just the same as he did every single one of his colleagues—by keeping her at a professional distance.
Even if she did have the sexiest mouth and sparkliest eyes he’d ever seen.
No involvement.
No risks.
This time, he’d stick to the rules.
‘I’m so sorry I was sick everywhere,’ Grace said once they were sitting down inside her flat.
Bella frowned. ‘Didn’t you eat anything to line your stomach before you started knocking back whatever it was that made you throw up?’
‘Champagne. No,’ Grace said miserably. ‘My stomach was tied in too many knots to eat.’
And Grace hardly ever drank. It wasn’t a good combination. Not to mention really worrying—what had been so bad that Grace had had to get drunk? She took a deep breath. First things first. She needed to get Grace sober. ‘Right. First of all you’re having water—lots and lots of water,’ Bella said. Then she looked through Grace’s cupboards. Please let there be something that she could actually cook. Or, failing that, cereal to soak up all that champagne.
Then she spied the box of porridge oats. Perfect. Even she could follow the instructions on the box and make porridge in the microwave.
While the porridge was cooking, she took a banana from Grace’s fruit bowl and chopped it up. She added it to the finished cereal and put the bowl in front of Grace, who immediately pushed it away.
‘I can’t.’
‘Eat it,’ Bella said firmly. ‘Your electrolytes are all over the place and bananas are great for sorting that out, and oats will help because they’re bland carbs which will raise your blood sugar without upsetting your stomach.’
‘How do you know all this stuff?’ Grace asked, looking bemused.
Bella smiled. ‘Remember I dated a doctor a couple of years back? He gave me the lowdown on the best food to eat for a hangover.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Grace said again. ‘Was the taxi driver very angry?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Bella said airily. ‘My boss is sorting it.’
Grace did a double-take. ‘Your boss?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Bella flashed her sister a grin. ‘Guess what? I got the job.’
‘I—oh, my God. Are you telling me that I just threw up over your boss before you even started the job?’ Grace asked, looking horrified as Bella’s words sank in. ‘Oh, no. I’ll talk to him and explain, so he doesn’t sack you or—’
‘Gracie, it’s fine,’ Bella cut in.
‘It’s not fine at all! I’ve messed things up for you. Look. I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning.’
Bella smiled. ‘I already told him I’d do that, and I said I’d pay for valeting the taxi as well.’
‘My mess, my bill,’ Grace said. ‘I’ll pay.’
‘Gracie, just shut up and eat your porridge. I don’t want to hear another word from you, young lady, until that bowl is empty.’
‘You sound like Mum,’ Grace muttered.
‘Good,’ Bella retorted. Usually Grace was the one who sounded like their mother and Bella was the one hanging her head in shame.
She made Grace eat every scrap and drink two more glasses of water before she resumed her interrogation. ‘Right. Now tell me—what happened?’
‘I can’t marry Howard.’
It was the last thing Bella had been expecting. Her older sister had been engaged for the last four years. OK, so Howard was a bit on the boring side, and his parents were nightmares—Bella had dubbed them Mr Toad and Mrs Concrete Hair with good reason—but if Grace