“I don’t see the problem,” she said, honestly.
“It’s just, I want to be recognized for my writing style, but these kinds of articles don’t give me anything to get my teeth into.”
“Maybe you should write the next one in the form of an acrostic poem?” she teased. “That would get you noticed.” But it landed badly, his expression faltered, and she felt the change in the atmosphere immediately. Years with Tim had made her hyper-conscious of those little weather fronts that other people didn’t notice. She needed to smooth things over…but then he threw his head back and laughed. The shock of it made her sit up straight, eyes round.
“Oh my god!” he said, slapping his thigh. “I sound like such an arrogant prick! Sorry. I am going to stop being a whiny baby this instant.”
“Okay,” she said, forcing a laugh into her voice to hide the wobble. She’d imagined it. She must have. How quickly one look cast askance, or the intonation on a single word, could send her into a tailspin of panic.
Warren was looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine. I thought for a moment I’d offended you.”
“No, not at all, please don’t think that. I know I can come across as a bit overzealous but I’m not a narcissist, and I don’t get annoyed when people take the piss out of me. If anything, a spot of ridicule helps to bring me back down toearth.” His smile was warm and genuine, and she felt silly for spiraling.
“So, I guess this means you’ll be heading back to London? Now that your article is done, I mean.” Was she sad about the idea of him leaving? Yes, she decided, she would be a little sad if he left.
Warren’s gaze trapped her in the tractor beams of his dark blue eyes. Oh, but he was lovely to look at; he made her want to sigh dreamily and bat her eyelashes, like one of Lichtenstein’s pop art characters.
“You won’t be getting rid of me just yet,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Your editor has agreed to let you try for Marcus Tenbury’s column?” she asked, reaching over and grabbing his hand excitedly, before remembering herself and pulling away.
“She did. So, I’ve extended my stay at the pub, and I’ll write something here in Pine Bluff. There are three of us going for the position. The submission deadline is Thursday the twelfth, and whichever article the editor likes best will be published in the Sunday edition on December the fifteenth, and they’ll be named as the newDaily Newsfood writer.”
“Oh my god, Warren, this is huge! Congratulations!”
He laughed. “I haven’t got it yet, and I won’t know until that Sunday’s edition hits the newsstands.”
“She’s not going to let you know beforehand?”
“She wants it to be a surprise.” He rolled his eyes and then shook his head glumly. “I don’t know. The otherjournos going for it are at the top of their game. I feel like I’m up against it.”
“You’re a great writer, anyone can see that. You’re bound to get it; I can just feel it.”
He laughed. “You have more faith in my abilities at this point than I do.”
This humbler side of Warren was seriously warming her cockles. “Then let me be your cheerleader. What can I do to help?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression pensive. “I’ve narrowed down the list I made at your place on Friday night to just three restaurants.”
Warren picked up his phone and found the list. “Um, I’ve got Demeter, the Greek place you recommended, plus Nonna’s Olive Branch and Smoke and Soul on my radar.”
“Great choices. They’ve all been here forever. Mrs. Doukas’s homemade hummus and flatbread was my favorite homework snack.”
“Would you like to join me?” asked Warren.
“On your food odyssey around Pine Bluff? I would love to.”
This time, it was Warren who reached for her hand. “I’m really glad that courier got our letters mixed up.”
“Me too.”
“Come here,” he said, leaning across the table.
She mirrored his actions, a zing of excitement in her stomach as he pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were soft, and he tasted of cinnamon cream. But as romantic as it was, and as nice as the kiss felt, she was conscious of the busycafé around them, of being a spectacle, of being gossip fodder. She found first kisses rather awkward at the best of times, let alone with an audience present. And when her phone rang out noisily on the table, she was almost relieved to break their kiss.
“Hey, Aunty, what’s up?” She took a swig of her coffee to give her an excuse to wipe her mouth with her napkin.
