I'm Virtually Yours by Jennifer Bohnet Page B

said laughing. “Amazing what love can do.”
    â€œYou bet. How’s life in Devon?”
    â€œIt’s beautiful down here,” Polly said. “You, Kev and the Harley should visit.”
    â€œManaging to avoid going on any boats?” Marty said, who being her forever friend knew all about Polly’s dislike of everything nautical. “Can’t believe you’re actually working for a boat company when you hate the things.”
    â€œYou sound like Will,” Polly said. “I keep saying it doesn’t matter what the commodity is. At the end of the day it’s down to costings and good business practice. And no, I haven’t been on any boats.”
    â€œWill?” Trust Marty to pick up on the name.
    â€œPartner in the firm who is, or was, rather anti about the whole money investment thing,” Polly said. “So you’re going to get all the leather gear now are you?” she went on, throwing the conversation back to Marty.
    â€œAlready on order,” Marty giggled. “Though it has to be said it’s not the most flattering of stuff to wear. So, you been working all weekend?”
    â€œOn and off. Had a spot of retail therapy with Angie my landlady on Saturday. Went for a long walk on Dartmoor Sunday morning. Rosie loved it.”
    â€œAlone?”
    â€œWith Will,” Polly said hesitantly. She really didn’t want to get into a discussion with Marty about Will. “Anyway Marty, I’d better get on. Aren’t you at work?”
    â€œYes. Better go. See you at the weekend. You can tell me all abut Will then.”
    â€œNothing to tell,” Polly protested.
    Thoughtfully Polly closed her phone. Unless something unexpected happened this week, there wouldn’t be a lot more to tell Marty when she returned home.
    Because she was anxious to do the best job she could for both Daniel and Will, Polly spent hours at her desk (with the curtains firmly closed so that the view wouldn’t distract her) on Monday and Tuesday, going over the boatyard figures and assessing whether Will’s plans for the barge and the boatyard were viable.
    It was Wednesday afternoon when she’d decided they were and finally e-mailed her report to Daniel Franklyn detailing the important points. She omitted to type in the seriously large amount of money the company would need invested in it to keep it solvent. She’d give him that figure the next time he rang.
    Polly didn’t mention the vendetta in her report either. That was something else she knew would be better explained than set down in an e-mail. It would be interesting to hear DF’s reaction to it.
    Switching off her laptop, Polly slipped her mobile into her jacket pocket where she’d be able to hear it ring, rather than flinging it into the depths of her handbag where it often languished unheard.
    Time to join Angie for a drive out for supper at a well-known beachside restaurant where Angie had promised her “The best fish and chips you’ll ever eat. We’ll take the scenic route so you’ll get to see a bit of the countryside as well.”
    Daniel hadn’t replied to her e-mail by the time they left that evening. Polly couldn’t help worrying that she hadn’t sent him what he wanted to hear — or he didn’t think she’d done her job properly. He normally responded to mails promptly. Of course he could just be having a busy day at work, Polly decided.
    Angie drove out along the coast road. “Wind’s picking up,” she said. “Forecast’s not brilliant for the next twenty-four hours. Think we’re in for a big storm. The last one closed this road for five weeks.”
    â€œAt least we’re on dry land. Don’t know why people are so keen on boats,” Polly said shuddering as she saw the waves breaking against the rocks that lined this particular stretch of the coast.
    â€œHow are things going with your virtual