Her Favourite Rival. Sarah Mayberry

had made it fun.

      Be honest. He made it more than fun.

      Okay, he’d made it exciting. Sitting in the same room with him when the rest of the building was dark and silent had created a special sort of intimacy. They’d laughed and told jokes in between bouts of intense productivity. And they were doing it all over again tonight.

      There was no denying the frisson of excitement that fizzed through her belly at the thought. There was also no denying that she’d dressed with particular care this morning, choosing a black pencil skirt and fitted latte-colored silk blouse that made her feel like a heroine in a forties movie. And yes, she’d even spritzed on perfume, something she didn’t usually bother with for the office.

      “He’s your coworker,” she murmured to herself, in case that rather important fact had slipped her mind.

      “Excuse me, ma’am? Can I help you?”

      Audrey lifted her gaze from the scarf display she’d been eyeing and realized that the sales assistant had overheard her talking to herself. Such a good look.

      “I’m just browsing, thanks,” she said with a sheepish smile.

      “For yourself or are you looking for a gift?” the young woman asked.

      “It’s a gift, for my sister. Her thirtieth, actually.”

      “Something special, then? Were you thinking a scarf? We have some lovely French silk scarves....”

      Audrey blinked at the display. She had no idea, really, why she’d stopped in front of it.

      “I was thinking maybe a watch, actually. Or a piece of jewelry.”

      “Lovely. Jeannie is over in the watch department. She’ll be sure to help you out,” the saleswoman said, already drifting away to serve another customer.

      Audrey made her way to the shiny glass display cabinets in the jewelry department, finally locating the watches. She did a slow circuit of the cabinets, running her eye over the range, hoping something would jump out at her as being perfect for Leah.

      Her gaze moved from watch to watch, doubt and indecision gnawing at her. Despite the fact that there were only four years separating them, she and Leah had never really been close. She had no idea whether her sister would be all over a watch loaded with shiny bling, or if she would prefer a more conservative, traditional model.

      Funny, because she could still remember how excited she’d been when she’d learned her parents would be bringing home a little sister for her from the hospital. She’d mistakenly believed that it would be her and Leah against the world.

      She did a slower circuit, this time stopping when she saw a small-faced gold watch with a leather band and distinctive art deco styling. She thought it was beautiful, but there was no telling whether Leah would. For a moment Audrey was filled with a piercing, ineffable sadness that she knew so little about her own sister’s likes and dislikes.

      “Excuse me. Could I take a closer look at this one, please?” Audrey called out to the saleswoman.

      “Of course, let me grab my key.”

      Half a minute later, Audrey was wrapping the thin leather band around her wrist. It really was gorgeous. Maybe she should take a punt on it, go with her gut and hope for the best. She flipped the dangling price tag over and blinked in shock when she saw the price.

      Twelve hundred dollars.

      Whoa.

      She did a mental check of her savings account, but she already knew the watch was beyond her budget.

      “So, what do you think?” the saleswoman asked.

      “It’s lovely, but I might look around a little more before I make my final decision,” Audrey said.

      She smiled politely and handed the watch back before resuming her slow cruise of the display. Nothing else caught her eye, and after five minutes she left the store and headed for her car. Her thoughts kept returning to the watch as she drove back to Makers, however. If she extended the limit on her credit card, she could swing it, barely. It would take a bite out of her savings and make life a little less fun for a few months, but she could do it.

      It was her little sister’s thirtieth, after all. She wanted to mark the occasion.

      What you really mean is that you want to try to buy your way into her favor.

      It was a sobering realization, so profound that she didn’t notice the traffic light change and had to be honked to awareness by the driver behind her.

      Amazing, the way the past could keep coming back to bite her on the ass, even when she was sure that she’d dealt with it and reconciled herself and gotten on with things. Because she’d thought she was done with trying to make amends, in the same way that she’d thought she was beyond feeling hurt by her outsider status in her own family.

      She drove into the garage and parked in her allocated spot. She didn’t immediately get out of her car. She needed a moment to get herself together.

      If she could go back in time, if she could change one decision, undo one choice, she would return to the moment when her angry, resentful, achingly lonely sixteen-year-old self had stuffed a handful of clothes into a duffel bag and climbed out the window and into the waiting car of her boyfriend.

      But she couldn’t, just as she couldn’t undo any of the foolish, dangerous things she’d done in the eighteen months following that night. Stealing from her parents and her sister. Endless rounds of binge drinking. The way she’d allowed herself to be treated by Johnny and his friends for fear that she’d lose the one person who had ever really seen her and believed in her and loved her. Or so she’d thought at the time.

      She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest. God, she’d been so young and so hungry for approval and attention. The great irony was that the two people she’d most wanted to sit up and take notice—her parents—were the two people who had never quite forgiven her for the months of worry and heartache and shame she’d inflicted on them as they searched and fretted over their runaway daughter.

      They pretended they had. Everyone was perfectly civil and polite to one another once she’d moved home and embarked on the never-ending mission of redeeming herself. But the truth was that that rash, reckless dash into the night when she was sixteen had permanently cemented her black sheep status, and she’d never been able to claw her way back.

      Not with good behavior. Not with heartfelt words. And not with gifts.

      And certainly not by buying her sister a very expensive watch for her birthday.

      She breathed in through her nose, held her breath for a handful of heartbeats, then released it fully. Then she opened the door and climbed out.

      How did that L.P. Hartley quote go? “The past is a foreign country.” And she didn’t have the time or the energy to go there.

      Not today, anyway.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      SHE WAS WEARING perfume. Something light, with sweet vanilla undertones.

      Zach looked up from the page he was proofreading and glanced at Audrey’s profile, trying to gauge her mindset. They’d been going over the finished analysis for the past hour, correcting typos, adding information, finessing the layout. Not by the flicker of an eyelid had she indicated that tonight was any different from last night or any of the other times they’d met to work on the report—except she didn’t usually wear perfume.