Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(46)
Kellie collapsed against the mattress, aware of her pounding heart and the huge smile on her face.
Chapter 23
Amelia slammed the stack of papers, held together with an alligator clip, down hard on the café table. The cool salty breeze blew in from the nearby sea and the sides of the oversized fabric umbrella shading them from the harsh morning sunshine flapped loudly. Megan Bailey jerked up from the magazine she was reading to stare at her.
“Sorry,” Amelia said.
“Rough night?” Megan inquired, concern in her voice.
Amelia fought back her irritation. It was not Megan’s fault she’d been up all night, thoughts of Kellie, Coleani and their case rolling around her head. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. The case would come together and as for Kellie, it was all in the past, and should be kept there. Now she just had to figure out where they went from here. Now that she knew why Kel had left, she should be able move on. Unfortunately her emotions were rarely rational.
She didn’t know Megan all that well, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on Meg’s part. The tenacious woman didn’t give up easily and continuously invited Amelia for coffee catch-ups every month and expected her at every birthday and annual holiday get-together she hosted. Amelia felt she simply ignored any attempt on her part to keep some distance between them.
Amelia liked her, as far as females went. She didn’t whine to Amelia about broken relationships or half of the other bullshit most women seemed to complain about to their friends. She had known from the start that she was very sensible, which Amelia respected.
Megan always wanted the bottom line and wanted it from the start. She often reminded Amelia of herself, which explained why she allowed herself to accept Megan’s invitations, although lately they were becoming demands rather than offers. Just another facet of her personality. If she wanted something, she generally got it, and for some reason she had decided she wanted Amelia’s friendship and wasn’t the least put off by her prickly thorns.
Amelia wasn’t even sure what she had to offer in a friendship or any kind of personal relationship. Her social skills had always been lacking and she definitely didn’t have anything remotely resembling tact. Most people took offence to her no-nonsense personality, except for Kellie and Megan. It was almost they were like magnets, all gravitating towards each other as they recognised something in the other that they appreciated.
She’d met Meg when the other woman had called the LAC for research on her first novel. Through a twist of fate, her phone call had come to Amelia and she’d been intrigued with the storyline and the writer’s enthusiasm. She agreed to take a look at the manuscript and comment on the police procedures in her fictional world.
The book had become a bestseller, and Amelia had just finished proofreading the second novel in the series, which was even better than the first. She wasn’t one for giving praise unless it was well deserved, but she had to admit Megan’s stories captivated her until the very end.
Amelia flopped down into the nearest chair. The promenade was busy as always, even early in the day, and seagulls squawked above as they circled looking for leftovers. She rolled her shoulders. “Terrible night.”
“I’m sorry. Want to talk about it?”
“No. Thanks,” she added, hearing the harshness of her answer. “Here’s your manuscript. I’ve marked down some suggestions in the margins.”
Megan nodded and took a sip from the straw sticking out of her iced tea, making no effort to reach for the stack of papers.
“Well, I’m here if you change your mind. Sometimes talking about the problem can help.”
“What good would that do except piss me off more? There’s no point.”
Megan shrugged her delicate shoulders, her mahogany hair flowing around her head in soft waves as it fell over her shoulders. She was a gorgeous woman at five-foot-six, with a figure most women would kill for. Her small pert nose held a light sprinkle of freckles that was often covered up with a dusting of foundation.
“You have the world on your shoulders, Don,” she said, using the nickname she had bestowed upon her. “Maybe it’s time to spread the load a little. You can’t fix everything that’s wrong. You’re just one person and it would be suicide to try.”
Amelia let out a deep breath, feeling the tension inside her and knowing she needed to get laid. However, she had no viable candidate, so she would have to make do with the gym and something with a lot of sugar and calories in it.
“Yeah, well, someone’s got to do it.” She couldn’t explain her issues surrounding her best friend’s rape and how her actions had led a hurting Kellie to walk away. Shame filled her at how angry she’d been at Kellie all these years now knowing the things she hadn't been able to say at the time.
“You’re good at what you do.” Meg knew enough about her to be able to make the distinction, and often scolded her for working too hard.
“Enough about me.” Amelia’s thoughts were growing bleak and the last thing she wanted right now was a bout of depression. “How are things going with your cousin?”
Simply sitting and chatting was something she’d once done with Kellie, but after the event she had felt less inclined to do so. She missed it.
“Good. Stacey and I are getting along fine,” Megan replied, and took another sip of tea. “I know what you’re doing, you know. Remember, I write detective stories. Deflecting isn't it called?”