Chương 9: chapter 9: Fiona’s pov
When I arrive back at work on Tuesday morning, it's obvious news of my dramatic weekend reached everyone in the office. There's an enormous bunch of flowers and a hamper of muffins waiting for me at the reception desk of the local accountancy firm. Everyone keeps hugging me, which seems over the top since I only started working here six weeks ago and have, for the most part, kept to myself. Angela, the receptionist, is teary-eyed as she gives me a second squeeze. It all seems a bit odd. After a few moments of listening to some of the hushed comments, I realise they aren't happy that I am okay, but that Henry is. They genuinely appear to be shaken up by the whole thing. It makes me wonder who he is that everyone is so concerned about him. She hands me a stack of messages to get through.
"Everyone wants to talk to you after the article in the paper yesterday. We've had reporters calling non-stop." It almost seems as if she expects me to be thrilled about being the local celebrity for a few days, but it's the last thing I want. I want to remain anonymous, but this article has potentially ruined that for me. Regardless, even if my cover has been blown, I'm not moving again. I've had enough.
"Thanks, Angela. Can you keep pretending I'm not here unless you know who it is? I just want to get back to work," I ask her, and she looks disappointed. It's probably the most excitement they've had in the office for a long time, or ever, and I'm shutting it down.
"Are you sure you're alright to be back in today?" Greg asks me, his voice filled with concern, peering over the top of his glasses at me as he steps out of his office to greet me.
"I appreciate you worrying about me, but I promise I am okay. They only kept me overnight as a precaution," I answer. He smiles brightly and grabs one of my hands in both of his. It's a surprisingly warm gesture from my new boss, who has been friendly but quite formal since I started. Greg clears his throat and drops my hand as if remembering himself.
"Well, anyway... back to business. Henry's father, Jonathan Jones, has dropped in some documents for us to review ahead of a potential acquisition. The Joneses already have two spa resorts and are looking at buying a third. Could you have a look? That's more your area of expertise than mine."
"Of course. No problem at all." I'm delighted to get stuck into something interesting for our largest client.
I've barely sat down at my desk when my office door bursts open and a glamorous lady with sleek brown hair barges in without knocking. She's closely followed by the dark-haired beauty that I saw with Ethan outside the hospital.
"Mom! You can't just walk in! Knock!" she says. Up close, Ethan's beautiful friend is even more stunning. Long shiny chestnut hair hangs down to the middle of her back, and her gorgeous olive-toned skin sets off hazel-coloured eyes and full red lips. I take in the other lady and if she hadn't just announced this was her mother, I would have thought they were sisters. The benefits of good genes are clearly on display right in front of me.
"Hush, Leila... everyone here knows me. They don't mind!" She tuts at her daughter and then faces me with a megawatt smile and my eyebrows shoot to my hairline as I am fixed with her laser-like attention.
"Hayley! Oh, thank you. Thank you!" She hugs me and hangs on for dear life, keeping me there several seconds longer than I'm comfortable with. Especially since I have no clue who she is. I flick my eyes up to meet Leila's, who rolls her eyes and groans.
"Mum, get off her. She doesn't know who you are. You're scaring her," Leila chastises, answering my silent plea for help.
"Forgive my terrible manners! I am Henry's mother, Marie Jones, and this is his sister, Leila," she says, still holding onto my upper arms as she leans back slightly to look me in the eye again. She beams at me, again staring a little longer than I would deem normal, as she checks me out from head to toe. Leila just shakes her head behind her mother's back.
"Ah, Mrs. Jones... or sorry, Marie, lovely to meet you," I correct myself when she scowls at being called Missus.
"Would you like to sit down? How's Henry doing?" I gesture to the two chairs in front of my desk, retreating to the safety of my chair behind the glass table. Leila refuses, but Marie immediately sits down, prompting an exasperated sigh from her daughter.
"Mum, let's go. I am sure Fiona has other things to do. Like her job? Which we have just barged in on unannounced," she pleads, but Marie studiously ignores her.
"Oh, he's doing great, isn't he, Leila? And it's all thanks to you."
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the praise for doing what anyone would have done.
"Ethan tells me you pulled Henry out of the water all on your own and brought him back to life. I will forever consider you family for what you have done for mine." I am completely taken aback. It is quite a declaration.
"That sounds more like a punishment than anything else, Mum," Leila teases, and I have to stifle a laugh. Marie's lips tip up at the edges, but she ignores the dig.
"Wow. Thank you for your kind words. I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right time. Please tell Henry that I asked after him and wish him a speedy recovery. I'm sure I'll bump him at some point..." I'm trying to wrap this up. The attention this has brought me is already making me nervous. The fact his parents are wealthy business owners has no bearing on how I would have done things since I had no idea who he was at the time, but it explains why there seems to be so much interest from the local press.
"Leila's birthday, you must come! I won't take no for an answer. Leila, take Hayley out for lunch this week and let her know the plans," Marie insists, not leaving any opportunity for either of us to protest. I nod mutely, and Leila grins encouragingly.
"That's a great idea, Mum. Now let's leave Hayley in peace."
I know I've been trying to keep to myself, but it's been nearly two months since I moved here. I need to make some friends eventually if I'm going to stick around. Leila seems friendly and it'll be good to have some proper non- work-related conversation. Just as they turn to leave, a gigantic shadow fills the doorway, and a deep, masculine voice booms out.
"Hey Fiona , I stopped by yesterday but..." Marcus freezes the second he steps into my tiny but now absolutely jammed office. He's a mountain of a man, standing at six foot, five inches tall but built like a wall of solid muscle. "Leila, Mrs. Jones, apologies for interrupting." He nods politely, holding out the cup of coffee he's carrying to me awkwardly. The tension in the room is palpable as I reach out to take it. It doesn't escape my attention that he looks everywhere but at Leila, who's wringing her hands in her lap and studying them intently.
"I stopped by yesterday, but they said you were taking the day off. I need to get your statement about the accident," he continues. We've already had this conversation on the phone, so it seems like he's justifying his presence to the others rather than to me. I chance another look at Leila, who's blushing to her roots, and I suppress a grin. Very interesting. Marie looks back and forth between Marcus and me, then grins, understandably getting the wrong idea about where the awkwardness in the room is coming from.
"Oh, I see! Don't let us keep you, dear." With a laugh and a wink, Marie waves goodbye while Leila practically runs from the office. Turning to Marcus, I notice a pained expression on his face, and laughter bursts from my lips before I can help myself.
"Marcus, what was that? You and Leila, eh?" The man looks completely lost as he rubs a hand along the back of his neck and gives me a one-shouldered shrug. Marcus is the sheriff, and I went to visit him to explain my situation as soon as I came to town. He has been kind enough to check in with me regularly since then to see if I have had any problems. I suspect he drives by the house on his shifts as he always comments on the little bits of work I have done. He is as close to a friend as I have in the town so far.
"No. I mean... it's complicated," he states, making it clear he has no intentions of elaborating further. The big man doesn't look so tough now, flustered, and desperate to change the topic of conversation. He clearly has some history with Henry's little sister.
"I bet it is." I wink at him and laugh when he groans out loud.
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