Free Off the Record by Alison Rose

death by chocolate?’
    She shuddered at the thought that he was so used to this sort of attention and misinterpretation from women. The fact that he had dealt with it so skilfully bothered her. Who was the real Paul Brand? Was his father like this too? So cynical and manipulative. She hoped not – Johnson Brand was going to see her mother! What if he … if they …? She shook her head, banishing unwelcome images. The Brand men might be dangerously attractive, but her mother had resisted his father once, and was older and wiser now. As for herself, well, she would keep an open mind and guard her heart around Paul Brand, no matter how intriguing she found him. Even if it killed her.

Chapter Seven
    Alex walked home on Friday evening with a new spring in her step. Everyone had been so sweet about her new look, and now that she’d had a chance to get used to it, she’d enjoyed their reactions. She felt good, really good, and she couldn’t wait to see Kate again to show her.
    Her step faltered as she remembered the conversation she’d had with Kate a few days ago. Kate had met Johnson. Alex wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Part of her wanted to leave Johnson in the past, in her memories. The thought of him meeting and talking to her daughter spooked her. Alex sighed, knowing that she was more regretful than relieved that she hadn’t had the chance to see Johnson face to face again, but maybe it was for the best.
    As she neared home, she saw that her neighbour, Mrs Smith, was in her porch, speaking to a man. His back was to her, and he was leaning forward, talking to the elderly woman. She thought he looked vaguely familiar, but it was difficult to tell from that angle. Anyway, it wasn’t any of her business who visited the Smiths. With a shrug, she decided it didn’t matter, and turned into her garden path.
    ‘There she is! I told you she wouldn’t be long, didn’t I? Alex, dear, you’ve got a visitor.’
    Alex stopped. She knew. She just knew. The man straightened up and she saw that particular shade of golden hair, shot with silver now, before he turned to face her.
    Startled, she met his blue gaze. In the back of her mind she could hear a voice telling her to be careful what she wished for. For what seemed like an eternity they stood frozen. Then Alex smiled. A brilliant, joyful smile, letting the girl she had once been shine out. She felt something around her heart loosen as his lips curled into an answering grin. He stepped out onto her neighbour’s path.
    ‘Hey, Sandy,’ he greeted her softly. ‘It’s been a long time.’
    The sound of Mrs Smith’s voice jarred, bringing them both back to reality. ‘I was just going to offer your friend a cup of tea. Would you like one, dear?’
    Alex blinked, amazed that she was capable of recognising speech, let alone understanding Mrs Smith’s offer. ‘Er, no, thank you,’ she responded, her voice sounding rusty to her ears.
    ‘No? Oh well, have a nice visit, my dears.’
    She acknowledged the elderly lady’s goodbye as she closed her door. Alex knew that Mrs Smith would be straight on the phone, reporting her visitor to her network of friends around the village. Thank goodness her neighbour’s hearing wasn’t very good; otherwise they’d have faced an enquiry about Johnson calling her Sandy.
    ‘So,’ he stepped over the flower border separating the two garden paths and came to stand in front of her. He was just as tall as she remembered, but he’d filled out too. She didn’t recall his shoulders being that broad before. ‘Are you going to offer me a cup of tea?’
    She smiled again. His smile – that teasing, cajoling, cheeky grin that was guaranteed to get him whatever he wanted – hadn’t changed at all.
    ‘Oh, I think I can manage that,’ she responded. ‘It’s good to see you, Johnson.’
    ‘Yeah. It’s been too long.’
    ‘Come on in.’ She led him into her kitchen. He looked huge in the low-ceilinged room.
    ‘Have a seat.’