Page 211 of The Grand Duel

There’s a pause, the sound of wind rustling through the phone making me frown. “I’m walking back to the office now.”

I stand and walk to the reception, looking out the window at the drizzling rain.

“Are you close?”

“I’ve just passed the college.”

I don’t ask why Scott isn’t driving him. Instead, I go to his office and take the keys to the Jag, letting Edna know I’ll be gone by holding up two fingers and mouthing,Two minutes, when I pop my head around her office door.

I pull my coat from the rack and slip out onto the street, rounding the building to his car. “You’re close to Macca’s. Are you going to come back with treats for me, Charles?”

He huffs, and I can tell he’s smiling past whatever is weighing heavy on him. “What flavour?”

“You pick.”

“Alright.”

He hangs up, and I frown.

I pull out from the parking space, my stomach all knotted up.

I knew something was off the second the notification pinged on my phone.

Not just because he cancelled the meeting. But because he cancelled it on the app, letting me know.

I’m driving for around five minutes when I pass Charles on the pavement, his suit darkened from the rain. He doesn’t see me, doesn’t spot his own car, and I have to drive to the end of the road, turn on the next street, and then drive back down.

I pull up alongside him, my lips twitching at the three pots of ice cream in his hands. “Hey handsome.”

He blanches when he looks up, his brow rising. “What are you doing?”

I lean back as the rain flurries in through the open window. “Get in,” I tell him.

He rounds the bonnet and climbs in. “Do you even have a licence?”

“To drive an automatic, yes. Though I’ve not driven in years…” I run my hands over the steering wheel and ease it into motion again. “This is nice.”

He places the ice cream in the centre console and starts messing with the dials, turning up the heated seats. “I always have them low, sorry.”

I look across at him. “You’re worried about how cold I might be? You’re soaked, Charles.”

“I’m not soaked. It’s drizzly shit, not rain.”

“It’s horrible out, the sort of weather that will make you ill.”

He frowns over at me. “I’m a grown man, I’m fine.”

I shake my head and drive us back to the office, making a meal of reversing into the parking space when we arrive.

“Just watch your mirrors.”

“I can see, Charles.”

There’s a scrape and a clunk, the tire bouncing down onto the tarmac. “Oh,” I mutter. “I think there’s a…” I lean to look out through the window at the curb on the right side of the parking space.

“A pavement?”

“Seems that way.” I cringe.