‘Pity she didn’t remind herself that alcohol was poison at the same time,’ said Zoe acidly.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He was maddeningly tolerant. ‘She’s just young and inexperienced.’
‘Huh!’ That caught her on the raw. She said unwarily, ‘Still, I suppose it’s better than being old and inexperienced.’
‘This will teach her a valuable lesson—’
Another nurse was coming towards them.
‘Can you tell me something about her? And this party tonight? When did she last eat? Is she likely to have taken recreational drugs?’
Jay shook his head. ‘Not at any party of mine.’
‘But maybe someone brought something that you didn’t know about—’
‘These guys work for me. They wouldn’t risk it.’
Looking at the set of his mouth, Zoe found she believed him.
So did the nurse, evidently. ‘Well, it could just be too much to drink. I’ll tell the doctor.’ She disappeared.
Zoe suddenly began to feel immensely tired. As if he sensed it, Jay put an arm around her and steered her towards a bench against a wall. He pushed her gently onto it and stood back, looking down at her with concern.
‘Like a coffee?’
She smiled palely. ‘Out of a machine? No, thank you.’
‘Snob,’ he said peacefully. ‘Does it matter if it’s wet and warm?’
‘I’m not cold.’
And she was not. The harsh hospital lighting made everything seem dreamlike. She was neither hot nor cold, nor awake nor asleep, but floating somewhere in the suspended animation of near exhaustion.
‘You’re wiped, aren’t you?’
She closed her eyes. ‘I’ve been up since five. How long before that means I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours?’
He was startled. ‘Five? Why on earth—?’
‘My brother has finished his exams. He’s got himself a summer job. Guiding field trips for schoolchildren. He’d never have got himself out of the house if I hadn’t. Afterwards I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I did some housework.’
‘And then you ran around preparing my Venice paper all day. And ran the party all night. Topping it off with a crisis.’ He sounded remorseful. ‘Poor old Discovery. You really are a tower of strength, aren’t you?’
Zoe pulled a face. ‘You really know how to flatter a girl.’
He shook his head. ‘No flattery. I told you. I tell the truth.’
And quite suddenly it was all too much for her. All the deceit and the games and the feeling of everything getting away from her. She just didn’t want it any more. She was so tired of it.
She said baldly, ‘Well, I don’t.’
He went very still.
‘I’ve not been telling the truth so long that when I try I can’t do it.’
Zoe tipped her head back against the wall. The harsh light made her eyelids ache. She stared at the ceiling almost dreamily. She felt as if she were in free fall, as if all the conventions and pleasant, safe habits of every day had fallen away. All the rules, too.
She said in a flat voice, ‘Don’t run away with the idea that you know one single thing about me. You don’t.’
Jay sat down on the bench beside her, carefully not touching her. But she could feel him watching.
‘Want to tell me about it?’ he said quietly.
And quite suddenly she did. Well, she wanted to tell someone.
There was no reason in the world why she should tell Jay, of course. She didn’t know him. What she did know she didn’t like. He was serial flirt with a tough break-up technique and no conscience. Or that was what they said. It seemed to be true. He was the last person in the world she would have expected to confide in.
But the small hours, the nearly empty waiting area, and those fierce lights seemed to have got her spaced out quite as much as any recreational drug would have done.
He was also her boss and the owner of Culp and Christopher. Which meant he paid her salary. You didn’t tell things you wouldn’t tell—hadn’t told—your best friend to a man like that, did you?
Of course you didn’t. It was crazy.
Knowing it was crazy, Zoe watched a fly walk across the ceiling towards one of the panels of white light and said idly, ‘You remember those oddballs we were talking about earlier?’