‘Oh God, a little.’
‘You should sleep.’
‘I should definitely sleep. Did Anis get back okay?’
‘Yes, with an armful of sweet cicely too, so she did well,’ James says, lifting the paper up higher so that it’s almost under my nose. I realize he’s politely trying to give it to me, but the Scotch is impairing my judgement somewhat.
‘Sorry,’ I say, taking it from him. I look down at the menu and see the inclusion of chocolate-and-amarettidélicewith Scottish wild-berry sorbet. God, I want to try it, whatever it is.
‘God, I want to try that,’ I say, closing my eyes and sighing.
‘It’s good. Has a thick mousse kind of texture, and the berry sorbet adds a lightness you have to try to believe,’ James says with a big smile. ‘It’s Anis’s invention.’
‘I didn’t know she did desserts.’
‘She was a pastry chef, first.’
‘Oh yes, but I didn’t realize she did actual desserts too.’
James looks at me weirdly. ‘We’ll be finished in a couple of hours. If you can’t do tonight, Roxy can stand in?’
‘I’m sure I’ll be better,’ I say, suddenly wanting to be on shift with him again.
‘Okay, great,’ he says, sighing. ‘What an absolute bugger of a thing to happen.’
‘I’m daft. Who goes hiking in Converse? I’m just coming across as ridiculously city.’
‘We’ll break you in.’
‘Goodness, James, we’ve only just met,’ I tease.
He looks crushingly embarrassed and then loiters for a moment, gazing over at my case in the corner. ‘You’ve not unpacked?’
‘Not yet,’ I say. ‘Waiting to see if I like it before I commit. I can’t even commit to a favourite ice-cream flavour, so don’t hold your breath.’
‘Same. Why do people try to make you choose? Vanilla? Chocolate? I want them both.’
I laugh at him. He’s so endearingly earnest. And then I feel a little relief at buying myself a few hours. ‘Hey, fanks muchly for your help. With the lifting me back, like some kind of lumberjack prince or something. And for getting hot Brett, the horse guy. And the menu prep. I really owe you.’
‘Hot Brett?’
‘It’s just a fact,’ I say with a shrug. ‘And did you know that Brett is actually the nickname for a yeast. A yeast that gets into wine’nd makes it taste like old sports socks and sticking plasters. Actually weirdly accurate, having smelled him up close.’
It was the one thing I remembered from the ‘ten wine facts you probably don’t know’ googling I’d done last night.
‘Brett?’
‘Yes, Brett is a wine yeast infection,’ I say earnestly. ‘He shouldn’t be around wine …’
‘Okay,’ James says and looks over at the empty glass next to me, and I can tell he thinks I shouldn’t be around whisky.
‘Thanks for everything, James. Can I call you Jamie, like the hot guy inOutlander?’
‘What’sOutlander?’
‘Kilt porn. It’s a whole genre.’
I love that it’s so easy to make him blush. I watch his red cheeks slowly fade as he looks across at my ankle again and then back to me. ‘See you later today, I hope.’
