***
‘There you are. I was just going to call you,’ Kate exclaims, without looking up from placing a figurine on the wedding cake she’s decorating. Her tongue’s hanging out, resting on her bottom lip. It makes me smile. ‘Do you fancy going out?’ She still doesn’t look up.
This is good. I’m sure my face will give away any attempt to feign coolness. I’m still slightly flustered after my lunchtime meeting with a certain Lord of the Manor. I don’t have the energy to get ready and go out.
‘Shall we save ourselves for tomorrow?’ I try. I know this will mean a bottle of wine on the sofa, but at least I can put my PJ’s on and chill out. After the day I’ve had, winding down my racing mind is paramount. I’ve got a headache and lacked the ability to concentrate all day.
‘Absolutely. Let me finish this cake, then I’m all yours.’ She swivels the fruit cake on the stand, dabbing edible glue onto the icing. ‘How was your day in the countryside?’
Ha! What do I say? I expected a pompous country bumpkin, but I got a devastatingly handsome, suited God. He requested me by name, his touch turned me to molten lava, I can’t look in his eyes for fear of passing out and he liked my dress. Instead, I say, ‘Interesting,’
She looks up. ‘Do tell.’ she prompts, her eyes sparkling as she bends back down, her tongue popping out again.
‘It wasn’t what I expected.’ I flick a piece of imaginary lint off of my navy dress in an attempt to appear casual.
‘Leave out what you expected and tell me what you got.’ She’s stopped trying to fix husband and wife to the top of the cake. Instead, her eyes are narrowed on me. She has icing on the end of her nose, but I ignore it.
‘The owner,’ I shrug, fiddling with my tan belt.
‘The owner?’ she asks, her lips twitching.
‘Yes. Jesse Ward, the owner.’ I flick more imaginary lint from my dress.
‘Jesse Ward, the owner.’ she mimics me, pointing to one of the flowery tub chairs in her workshop. ‘Sit, now! Why are you trying to sound cool? You’re failing miserably, by the way. Your cheeks are the colour of that icing.’ She points to a fire engine cake on the metal shelf stand. ‘Why was the owner, Jesse Ward, not what you expected?’
Because he was steaming hot! I flop into the chair with my bag on my lap, while Kate stands tapping her palm with the handle of her spatula. She finally walks over, sitting in the chair opposite me.
‘Tell me.’ she presses, knowing there’s something to tell.
I shrug. ‘The man’s attractive and he knows it.’ I see her eyes light up as the spatulas taps become faster on her hand. She wants more drama. She loves it. When Matt and I split up, she was the first on the scene to soak up the spectacle as a supporting friend. She needn’t have bothered. It was mutual, very amicable and really rather boring. No plates were flying and no neighbours called the police.
‘How old?’ she asks keenly.
Now, that one’s got me. I’m still mortified that I blurted such an inappropriate question during a business meeting. My embarrassment wasn’t even worthwhile as he was obviously playing with me.
I shrug. ‘He said twenty one, but he’s at least ten years past that.’
‘You asked him?’ Kate’s jaw hits her lap.
‘Yes, in a moment of pure brain to mouth filter malfunction, the question did slip. I’m not proud.’ I mutter. ‘I made such a fool of myself, Kate. A man’s never done that to me before. But this one, well, you would have been ashamed of me.’
A sharp shot of laughter flies from her mouth. ‘Ava, I need to teach you some social skills!’ She falls back in her chair, starting to lick the icing from her spatula.
‘Please do,’ I grumble, putting my hand out to her. She passes me the spatula, and I start licking at the edges. I’ve lived with Kate for a month and existed on wine, icing sugar and cake mixture. A loss of appetite after a break up, I don’t have. ‘He was very self-assured.’ I say between licks.
‘As in?’
‘Oh, this man knew he was sparking a reaction in me. I must have been painful to watch. I was pathetic.’
‘That good?’
I shake my head in dismay. ‘Ridiculously,’
‘He’s probably shit in bed,’ Kate muses. ‘All the hot ones are. What’s your brief?’
‘Ten new bedrooms in the extension. I thought I was going to a country mansion, but it’s a mega plush hotel come spa. The Manor, have you heard of it?’
Kate’s face screws up into a clueless expression. ‘Nope,’ she replies, getting up to turn the oven off. ‘Can I come next time?’