Page 77 of (Not) The One
My cup is almost empty, and I’m thinking of sending out a search party when the chair opposite me scrapes across the wooden floor as it’s pulled out from under the table.
‘You took your sweet—’
As I look up, my words drain away. For the second time today, James Harrison takes my breath away.
20
James
‘You took your sweet... ness when you walked out on me this afternoon?’
I resist the temptation to lean across the table and press my finger to her chin, closing that enticement of a mouth, mainly because there’s every chance she might bite me.
‘Where has she gone? Heather, I mean?’ Miranda’s head whips around as she looks for her cousin, Cupid’s unlikely envoy. Although she looks delightful in a tutu, and not unlike an overgrown toddle, I’m certain she’s not in the god of love’s employ.
‘Don’t get angry. I was invited.’
‘By Heather?’
‘She called and said that we should talk. That’s you and I, not Heather and—’
‘Oh, God.’
She drops her head to her hands, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously likeit’s too soon to have this conversation.
‘If it helps, she also gave me a message. She said, and I quote, “sooner is always better because you’d just put it off until the last minute possible” and “if you stay and talk this through, this will be the last time I’ll use Grandad as a ploy.” A little abstract, but she assured me you’d know what this means.’
‘And she led you to believe, what? That I wanted to talk to you?’
‘I believe the phrase she used was that youneedto talk to me.’ I must admit, I was intrigued. ‘Naturally, I came as soon as I could and was instructed come by cab.’
But where hasshegone?’
‘Home, presumably, in a cab.’
‘Heather is a student, and she’s the middle child of a large family. She hasn’t got money to fritter on cabs,’ she answers disparagingly. Her expression twists and, if I’m not mistaken, she’s chewing the inside of her lip.
‘I paid for it. That was also in the instructions.’ Her expression softens immediately, her a gurgling chuckle warming my skin. She really is quite exquisite, her eyes almost brown in the low light as her hair glows like old gold. ‘Heather got in the cab I got out of. She said she felt a little like James Bond.’
‘Sneaky cow,’ she mutters. ‘Maybe she should be studying something other than social media when she goes off to uni next month.’
‘Like what?’
‘Management.’ Her mouth becomes a flat line.
‘So, here we are.’ The fact that she’s still sitting in her seat is encouraging. It could’ve gone so many ways after I’d left her draped over the desk this afternoon.She might’ve stormed out or climbed onto my lap and wrapped her hands around my throat.It wasn’t my finest moment, but I had a point to make, and that is that while her mouth says one thing, it’s as though the rest of her is on another page.
‘I can leave if you’d prefer. Or I can get us another drink, and we could talk.’
‘That would be.. . ’ I think for a moment she might say nice. ‘A novel experience.’
It’s on the tip of my tongue to make a quip about novelty and the inventive experiences she and I could have together when some sixth sense tells me it wouldn’t be appropriate right now. Could I be something more than a novelty to her It’s true we don’t know one another very well, but there’s something about her that I’ve been unable to ignore. It’s a strange kind of experience to think of someone, to feel things for them, but not be able to put those feelings into words. I feel like I’m stumbling around, still discovering her. Though it sounds ridiculous. I find I can’t put it any other way than that.
‘I’ll go to the bar.’ With a reflective smile, I spread my palms on the table as I stand. ‘Can I expect you’ll still be here when I return?’
She has the audacity to throw back her head and laugh. I think this could be part of the reason I like her so much. Her sense of humour is almost perverse.
‘It’s my turn to leave again, isn’t it?’ Her gaze narrows. ‘I think you’ll have to take your chances.’
