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helping the customer while Nathalie read the note. “Enjoy your lunch. Mum.” Nathalie grinned and went through to the kitchen.
    â€œBagels, cream cheese, and salmon.” She lifted out the contents of the bag and reached for a plate, still smiling to herself.
    ****
    Evan walked back to his office, deep in thought. His delivery of Nathalie’s lunch reminded him of the times he and her brothers had dropped food off for her whilst she’d worked at numerous jobs to fund her way through college. She worked harder than anyone he knew, except possibly Nate.
    When he arrived back at the office, he found Jerome waiting on one of the leather chesterfield sofas in the lobby. “Your secretary said you’d be here soon. I thought I’d call in and see how you’re settling back in to town.”
    â€œCome through to the office. I’ve just taken your sister some lunch.”
    Jerome grinned and followed Evan inside the oak-panelled room. “I’m surprised she’s speaking to you.” He glanced around Evan’s office. “Nice place.”
    â€œYeah, it’s not bad.” He motioned to Jerome to sit down on a carved wooden chair.
    â€œSo, you told Nathalie about Laurel and Polly?”
    Evan took a seat behind his large oak desk. “I told her everything.”
    Jerome raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “It hit her hard when you disappeared. I know you had your reasons, but I don’t want to see her get hurt again. You might be my mate, but Tali’s my sister—you know what I’m saying?”
    Evan looked at Jerome’s sombre face. “I know.” He knew just what Jerome meant. From the bottom of his heart, he wished he’d handled the situation with Laurel differently. He wished he’d told Nathalie about Polly when he’d first received the letter.
    But the past was the past, and he couldn’t alter what had already happened. We can still be friends, he’d told her, though the attraction that had burnt so brightly between them in the past was still as strong, at least on his part. It made him wonder if being friends would turn out to be harder to cope with than he’d imagined.
    â€œListen, I can see you must be busy blowing the dust off all those wills and things, so I’ll push off. I’ll call you for golf at the weekend.”
    Evan smiled. Jerome always poked fun at his profession as a solicitor. “I’ll look forward to it, old boy,” he teased in a fake upper-class drawl.
    ****
    â€œAre you going to tell me who he is?” Gemma asked, the instant Nathalie rejoined her on the shop floor after eating her lunch. The nervous bride-to-be had gone, and Gemma was busy replacing tiaras on the display stand.
    â€œEvan? He’s an old friend.”
    â€œMmm, I wouldn’t mind an old friend who looked like that. He’s certainly put a smile on your face.” She stepped back to admire her handiwork.
    â€œReally, he’s just a friend.” Nathalie frowned at her in mock-severity.
    â€œWell, come on, spill! Where did you meet him? And how come someone so hunky is just a friend?”
    â€œHe’s a friend of Jerome’s. I’ve known him for years. We dated for a short time ages ago, then he moved away.” Nathalie fiddled with a small stack of business cards next to the till.
    â€œDon’t tell me he’s married? All the good ones are married.” Gemma groaned. “Except Carl, of course,” she added hastily, referring to her own boyfriend.
    â€œHe’s divorced.” Nathalie tapped the edges of the cards on the counter, lining them up in a neat pile.
    â€œThat’s good. Well, it isn’t for him, but — oh, you know what I mean.” Gemma shot her a questioning glance. “It is good, isn’t it? I mean, you can see he’s interested in you, surely.”
    She picked up the top card and folded it into little pleats. She