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“What’s this now?” Tara enquired.

“There’s this gorgeous woman who manages the hotel,” Nuala explained. “Rinnie is her name, and Tristan is convinced he knows her from somewhere, but I personally think it’s his penis deceiving him.”

“Bloody hell, Nuala,” Derek griped. “Can you not talk about our brother’s penis when we’re having our lunch?”

“Ha! Now you did it too,” Nuala barked happily, and Milly gave a quiet chuckle.

“Is that the woman you were speaking with at the bar during the wedding?” Tara asked Nuala.

“Yes, remember her? Amazing eyes, great hair. It’s no wonder poor Tristan can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Exaggeration has always been an issue for you,” I sighed, feigning boredom even though she was bang on the money. I could not, in fact, stop thinking about Rinnie.

“Do you know what’s weird?” Tara went on. “I actually found her familiar too. I saw her briefly at the wedding, but I couldn’t place her.”

Okay, now she had my full attention. “You did?”

Tara nodded. “It can’t be a coincidence then.” She glanced at my sister. “Sorry, Nuala, on this occasion, you might be wrong.” Her lips twitched in a smirk, and Nuala laughed.

“Dammit, I was so certain I was right.”

My mind was busy trying to piece it all together. If Tara felt like she knew Rinnie from somewhere, then that meant it couldn’t just be my imagination.

I replayed that day at the wedding when I’d asked her out, trying to recall how she reacted, and suddenly, it was so much clearer. I’d assumed she was just unsure about me, aloof, indifferent, maybe trying to remain professional, but now I wondered if there had been something else happening.

She hadn’t been meeting me for the first time.

She’d already known me.

The realisation sent a strange unease through me because if Rinnie remembered me, then there was a reason for it. There was a piece of my past that she held, and I didn’t. A conversation. A moment. Something important enough that she had recognised me almost immediately, while I had been standing there completely unaware.

How was that possible?

Sure, I’d had an eventful life and met countless people along the way, many of whom I’d surely forgotten, but there was something about Rinnie that felt important. She hadn’t just been some passing, casual acquaintance. I was certain of it.

I didn’t like missing information about my own life. I was used to understanding situations, reading people, having all the pieces in front of me. But with Rinnie, I’d been walking around with a blind spot and that meant only one thing.

I might not remember where I knew her from, but she remembered me and was pretending not to.

Suddenly, I was more determined than ever to discover what she was hiding.

11.

Erin

Tristan Balfe wouldn’t stop staring at me.

It was Friday, and I hadn’t run into him much since we got stuck together on the elevator earlier in the week. It hadn’t been too bad in the end, despite my panicky episode at the start. Tristan had managed to put me at ease, distracting me with conversation until Damien could come save us.

The very last moment left me uneasy though. Tristan had helped me up to stand, and when we were both on our feet, he didn’t let go of my hand for what felt like forever. I’d been frazzled by his closeness, distracted by his soft brown eyes, all the while not realising how intently he’d been studying me.

I almost swore that he recognised me in that moment, but then the elevator sprung back to life, and we immediately returned to our masks of professionalism.

Now, we were in the hotel’s business centre, a smallish room with two computers, a printer and a long desk for writing at. It was the chosen venue for me, Tristan, Katy, Samara and Barry to gather and go over some administration needs for the reopening.

Every time I looked up, Tristan was watching me with a mix of curiosity and confusion. There was a deep indent between his eyebrows, like he was straining to figure out a puzzle.

It was all making me extra tetchy, which was why I’d dropped my pen twice in the last hour, not to mention dribbled some water down my chin when I’d taken a sip from the glass in front of me.