The fraction of a moment passes, and I jerk my fingers back. Will, on the other hand—hah—grabs the mug firmly and smiles. “Stay. I’ll grab you another,” he says as he starts getting up.
“You don’t need to do that.”
He stops mid-motion and raises an eyebrow. “I know I don’tneedto do anything, Sophie.” Without further explanation, he leaves the table and heads to the service counter.
I take this opportunity to give myself an internal pep talk.Get a grip, woman. Pretend he’s just another consultant. Just a run-of-the-mill business bro. You’ve dealt with enough of them before. Why should this be any different?
From the corner of my eye, I spot the door of the bookstore opening, and a young woman walks in with slow, uncertain steps. Her oversized sweater swallows up what seems to be a tiny frame, and her eyes are focused straight towards me.
No, wait. Towards Will.
But I’m interrupted in my staring contest by thethumpof a steaming mug being placed on the table.
I turn back to Will, who’s looking at me with an amused look. “What’s got your attention like—” He stops mid-sentence when his eyes latch on to the girl.
His entire demeanour changes in an instant. He stays there, frozen like a deer in headlights, and I see a ghost of something pass through his black eyes. My first instinct is to believe he’s found yet another victim of his womanizing ways, but upon further inspection, that’s not it at all.
Ladies and gentlemen … Will Béchard isuncomfortable.
I can’t resist smiling at Will’s disposition. Now that I’m looking at him more carefully, I know my second guess is correct; he’s very clearly rattled. I turn to look back at the girl, who has made eye contact with him by now.
Oh, this is going to be good.
As she makes her way towards us, a shy smile on her pink lips, I let myself imagine all the possible scenarios that this could be. Maybe she’s one of his many one-night stands whom he promised to call back, only to immediately wipe from his mind and move on to his next conquest. Perhaps she was one of the girls who was unfortunate enough to date him for a week or two, only to be unceremoniously dumped without good reason, and now she’s caught him like a fly and wants an explanation.
Or, even better, maybe she was last night’s conquest, and now she’s pleased as punch to run into him when she probably thought she’d never see him again after he escaped her bed this morning.
In all of these cases … yikes. That innocent face, those round cheeks … she can’t be anywhere close to Will’s age.
“William!” the girl exclaims when she reaches our table, a huge grin on her face. But she doesn’t stop; she walks straight to him and goes for a hug.
I watch the embrace unfold. Will returns the hug with clear reluctance. He’s stiff, his eyes wide and panicked. I wish I could record this.
“I tried calling you half an hour ago, but you didn’t pick up,” she says, pulling away from the awkward hug. She cocks her head sideways.
Will’s eyes dart to me, and then back to the girl. “I’m really sorry. I’m in the middle of a work meeting.” His voice is stilted, all of his usual confidence is drained from him. His gaze darts to me again, and it looks like …
Is he pleading for me to corroborate his story?
As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m nothing if not professional. “That’s correct,” I say, and for the first time, the young woman registers my presence.
“Oh.” Her smile fades. “I’m …” Her green eyes dart around uncomfortably. “I’m really sorry. I … Maybe I should go.”
I still can’t wrap my head around what this is. Will pinches his lips together nervously. “I’ll call you back, okay?”
The girl gives Will a shaky smile before turning to leave. He watches her walk away, then sits back down. Once she’s out the door and far enough away to be out of sight through the large window at the front of the bookstore, Will lets out a deep sigh.
“Are you really going call her back?” I chuckle, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair. Knowing Will, he won’t. She’s just another broken heart waiting to happen. And so young, too.
Will’s worried face twists into a scowl. For an instant, a flash of terror thunders through me. But as quickly as it appeared, the scowl is gone. A wave of calm settles over him. Yet, a hint of his previous scowl remains.
The situation obviously shook him.
“Right, where were we?” he asks, glancing at his phone at the centre of the table, which is still recording our conversation.
I can’t help myself. “You’re just going to ignore my question?”
Will’s frown deepens. “Let’s stay on topic.” His voice is snippy. I touched a nerve. But then his expression softens. “You were telling me about the girls.”
