“So you’ve not spoken to her for longer than I’ve been alive.”

“Yes. I suppose that’s right.”

Why had Mel come to see her now? Curiosity? Surely she hadn’t taken such a big step just because she wanted an apology?

“Why did you lose touch?” Ashley poured herself some orange juice from the jug Joanna had put on the table.

Joanna thought about Nate. “It’s complicated.”

Ashley, who clearly had no trouble delving for truths, opened her mouth to press further and Joanna was relieved when her phone rang.

“I have to take this. It’s Nessa, my assistant. You should eat something. The cookies are good.” Cookies by Nate. She wasn’t going to think about Nate.

She wandered out onto the terrace and felt the breeze lift her hair.

She’d been anxious about coming back here, but now she was here she didn’t want to leave.

She answered the call. “Nessa. Is everything okay?”

“Depends how you define okay, boss. Okay is subjective, isn’t it? I mean, one person can—” She broke off. “Forget it. Things are not okay. I’ve had a call from a journalist.”

Joanna picked a dead flower from a geranium. “You don’t have to take their calls.”

“I know, but this one left a message telling me she had the biggest scoop of the century and if I didn’t answer, then you’d probably fire me.”

“I am never firing you, Nessa, you know that.” Joanna snapped another head off the plant, this time a perfectly healthy one. Had Mel called the press? No, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? “What does she think she knows?” She listened while Nessa told her and at some point her legs turned as liquid as melted butter and she sat down hard on the lounger.

So they knew the truth. How had they found out?

It couldn’t have been Mel. Mel didn’t have access to the information the journalist had.

And that was a relief, but it didn’t change the fact they had a problem.

It had been inevitable, of course. She’d known that. And she’d done what she always did. She’d chosen to run from it. Her strategy had been avoidance. She’d hidden, because that was how she lived her life.

“Boss? Joanna? Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“I told her it was a load of lies, and—”

“It’s not lies.”

There was silence. “It’s not? You...knew?”

“Yes, I knew.” Joanna took a long, slow breath, trying to think. “Do you have her number?”

“Yes.” Nessa sounded unsure now. “She says the story is going live at midnight and if you want to give some sort of comment you have to call her by this afternoon. I can’t believe... What can I do?”

“Nothing. Send over the details and I’ll get back to you later. Thanks, Nessa.”