“I do not know. I’ve never tried the food, although Reginald raves about the beef and Guinness pie.”
“If it’s Reginald-approved, then I’ll try the pie. And a basket of Lilac’s amazing loaded wedges. I may be a disaster of a human, but a plate of fried potatoes makes it better.”
“You’re not a disaster of a human.” Alaric’s dark eyes bore into mine.
I stare down at the menu. Maybe it’s time for me to be vulnerable too. “Thanks, but I don’t believe you. I told you that my intention is that I’m allowing myself to be happy. I try to believe that. And yet, I’m such a mess that I threw myself at a client just to try and convince myself that I’m desirable. I’m not doing a very good job of being happy.”
Alaric sets down his glass. His eyes reflect a sprinkle of stars. “I was the one who trapped you against the wheel?—”
I hold up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think you’re right and we should just pretend it never happened.”
“I never said that we should pretend it never happened.”
“Running out of the room in disgust said it for you.” I grip my glass in shaking hands and take a long sip. My cheeks burn and I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I study the dessert section of the menu. “We only have to work together for another couple of weeks and then I’ll be out of your life forever?—”
“You’re happy when you organise,” Alaric says. “You get this adorable furrow between your eyes. At first, it looks like you’re irked by the objects around you, but the longer I work with you, I see that it’s not frustration, but serenity. You find peace in creating order from chaos.”
I think of the joy I felt after I cleaned up Professor Lewicki’s office, how the organisation system I designed changed the way she taught, and then I think of the towering piles and council complaints that my mother ignores. “That might be true, but it doesn’tdo any good, does it?”
“What you’ve done for me is a miracle.” Alaric’s hand reaches across the menu, his cool fingers brushing mine in a way that makes the butterflies start a mosh pit. “I spend my days creating chaos from order, but I did not know what brought me joy until I met you. I do not have words for the gift you’ve given me.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.” I slide my hands into my lap. I can’t look at him. I can’t bear to see pity in his eyes, or something worse. Something that might give me hope. “I wish every client was like you. I love that the Clutter Queens is doing so well. I’m proud of what Faye and I built. But I got into organising because I wanted to help people who couldn’t help themselves. People who hoard aren’t slobs. They’re struggling with overwhelming emotional issues. Their piles of stuff are piles of sadness, or piles of broken dreams, or piles of hope. They feel embarrassed, and alone, and things get worse and worse and—” —and their children have to live for years with rats crawling over their beds at night.“I wanted to show them that someone cares, and that there is another way. But Faye got really into Instagram decor trends and influencer culture and I got swept along with her, and now the business is so high-end that most of our clients don’t even need us – they just like to show off that they have the money to hire an organiser. Being here with you is the first time I’ve felt truly needed in a long time. I’m not happy. But I don’t know what to do about it.”
The butterflies jackhammer against my heart. I’ve never admitted that out loud before. I’ve never even admitted thatto myself.
“A wise woman once told me that you should live according to your intentions,” Alaric says. “You deserve to be happy. If you’re unhappy, you should leave.”
My head jerks up. “I can’t leave Faye. The whole business is built off my Winnie Wins System, but that’s tied up in our company trademark. If I walk away, I won’t be able to use it.”
“She will give it up if I ask her,” Alaric says firmly. “With my sword.”
“That’s probably not a good idea?—”
I lookup from the table.
No.
I choke on my drink.
It can’t be.
Howare Patrick and Claire, the two people I most wanted to escape when I came to Argleton, walking across the green towards us?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
WINNIE
“Winnie, what’s wrong?” Alaric’s deep voice cuts through my panic.
Why are they here? How are they here? What cruel demon is torturing me, and how much do I need to bribe him to workforme instead?
Patrick and Claire have their heads bent together, chatting softly about some lovey couple thing that’s just for them. My stomach bottoms out as they make their way towards the pub. Any second now they’re going to see me, and?—
I glance over at Alaric, who is watching me with dark, fierce eyes.
“Just … don’t say anything. I’ll do the talking.” I plaster a smile on my face as I scoot around to Alaric’s side of the table, sliding into the seat next to him. My skin burns where his thigh touches mine, even though he’s as cool as ever.
The couple saunter towards the door of the pub, lost in their own world.
