“Fuck off,” Will replies with a light punch to Josh’s shoulder.
“I’d love to take a look around.” Ben steps towards a row of half-finished boards sitting in a frame against the wall. “Josh tells me you might be looking for an investor.”
I raise an eyebrow at Josh who shrugs. I’ll owe him big if this comes off.
“Yeah, I am.” I lead Ben and Will towards the front of the production area and take them through the setup. Ben turns out to be razor sharp. He asks dozens of questions about the board building process and my business that I’ve never been asked before. But I’m not fazed. Any friend of Josh is a friend of mine.
After they’ve looked around, I change into clothes that aren’t covered in board dust, lock up, and we wander down the road to the local pub for a meal.
“You’ll have to come out with us one day, Ben. Learn to surf,” I suggest as he slides a business card across the table towards me.
“Let’s talk.” Ben dodges the suggestion.
I’m about to try and set up a time when Josh leaps to his feet, eyes lit up.
“Here she is.”
I turn and look behind me. There’s a beautiful woman wending her way through the tables, eyes locked on Josh, face beaming. His brand-new fiancée.
She does a double take when she manages to drag her eyes off Josh’s face and sees me.
“Well, hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”
“You two know each other?” Josh asks.
“Yes,” we respond in unison.
It’s the redhead from the beach.
Chapter Seven
Lilavati
All the note says isEnjoy,A x. Any irritation I felt towards Ant melts at the sight of the hot pink Post-it.
It was nearly two hours before I got out of surgery and saw a message from one of the emergency nurses to find her asap. And this was why.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” she says with a look that demands I spill the tea as I pull one of the brownies out of the bag and break off a chunk. I should offer her some. But it’s too good to share.
“What? I … a what?” I mumble over a mouthful of heavenliness.
“The guy. Who left the bag? He said he was your boyfriend. Surely you haven’t forgotten a snack like that?”
He said he was my boyfriend. Of course he did. Now I don’t know what to feel. Irritated. Touched. A little bit turned on. Okay, probably more than a little. Because if he were my boyfriend, I suspect I’d feel a lot more relaxed than I do. I shouldset her straight, but explaining what Ant is, who he is, will take more time than I have.
It occurs to me how many times in a day I think the words ‘I should’. It’s not good. I should work on … Dammit.
“No. Of course I didn’t forget. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Well, if my boyfriend turned up with dessert because I didn’t get to eat it, I can tell you he’d be gettingreallucky that night. Especially if he looked like …” She leaves the sentence hanging, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to supply the name.
“Ant.”
She nods. “Especially if he looked like Ant. Then again, looking like that, he’d probably be getting lucky every night.”
Which begs the question, why has he agreed to this arrangement? Because she’s right. Between his looks and the way he seems to charm everyone he talks to—the emergency nurse being a case in point—I would’ve thought he’d have no trouble getting an actual girlfriend. One happy to engage in all the PDAs he wanted.
It hits me that maybe he’s a commitment-phobe. Or a player. That would track, given how flirty he is, and it would explain why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Which is another mark in the con column for Ant Stevens.
