‘I’m going to run down the street and buy another gas bottle, just in case,’ Elijah said suddenly. ‘Ida, could you put the umbrellas up, and maybe bring a couple of bins out here? Heidi can look after the dining room.’ He waved a hand. ‘I won’t be long.’

Alone on the narrow porch that ran the length of the building, Sterling touched the phone beneath her shirt and relaxed a little. Elijah was right, the day was bright and sunny, and with any luck Garrett and his snarling dog were miles away.

She stepped onto the grassed area and began opening the blue-and-white striped umbrellas. It was an exercise in restraint not to keep touching her phone, but it was vital she didn’t draw attention to herself. With the job completed, she went back inside, cutting a path through the tables on her way to find the bins.

‘Ida?’

She looked up. Heidi had a line of people at the bar. That was the unpredictable thing about hospitality. It could be quiet for no reason, then everyone walked in at once.

‘Call Elijah,’ Heidi said. ‘We’re short on tomato sauce.’

‘Sure.’ Sterling’s stomach plummeted. Elijah’s number was saved on her other phone, which was locked inside the oil heater. The one in her pocket was useless. She hurried out the back to the cubicles, relieved no one else was there. She paced the small area, her mind racing. Where the hell would Elijah’s number be?

She stilled, her eyes shifting to the door of his office. Gathering her fears, she slipped inside and closed the door. Heart thumping, she hurried over to his desk. There was a stack of purchase orders and another of invoices he’d been working on. She flicked through them, searching for his number. She had a minute, two at the most, judging by how many people Heidi had to serve before she came looking for her.

She froze as a scuffing sound came from the other side of the door. Breathing hard, she didn’t move, praying whoever it was would leave but expecting the door to fly open and for Elijah to walk in. She could imagine his shock. What could she say?

The sound of footsteps . . . receding.

Sterling held her breath.

Silence.

Leaning across the desk, she snatched up a card from the holder and scanned it, her hopes soaring at the mobile number printed on the bottom.

She straightened up, her elbow carelessly knocking the stack of purchase orders off the desk and scattering them across the floor. Sinking to her knees, she gathered them up, the blood pounding in her temples. Was it all about to end right here? Would she be forced to reveal who she really was if Elijah suddenly walked in?