Her hands stilled and she looked up at him. ‘A drink?’
‘Yes,’ he said, returning her gaze with his intensely blue eyes, which one client had described as blue as a Norwegian fjord. ‘You know the kind of thing, we sit in a bar somewhere, order a glass of something cool and refreshing and chat.’
‘Oh,’ she said. If she’d been surprised a few seconds ago, she was shocked now. ‘A drink withme?’ she added, as though needing the clarification that she hadn’t misunderstood.
‘A drink withyou, yes,’ he replied, his gaze still on hers.
‘Wouldn’t you rather be out with your friends?’ she asked.God, she was making a meal of this! Why couldn’t she just say yes? What was the big deal? He was a work colleague suggesting they have a drink together, what could be more normal?
‘Shall I take it that’s a no, then?’
‘No!’
An eyebrow raised, he said, ‘Now that definitely sounds like a no.’
‘I didn’t mean it that way, I meant yes, I’ll have a drink with you. That’s if you haven’t changed your mind at my absurd reaction.’
He grinned. ‘The offer still stands. Now come on, back to these catalogues. Then I’ll take them to the post office before the boss tells us off for slacking.’
Relieved that the awkwardness of the moment had passed, she said lightly, ‘I hear she’s a terrible tyrant.’
‘The worst,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I don’t know how anyone could work for her, she’s a real slave driver.’
‘Aha, then you’d better watch out!’
‘Yes, boss!’
By the time the working day was over, and Nina was setting the alarm system and locking up, she doubted the wisdom of agreeing to go for a drink with Jakob. He was the first man – a man on his own without a wife or partner – from whom she’d accepted an invitation of this sort, and her acceptance was loaded with guilt and an unshakable sense that she was betraying Hugh.
She knew it was an overreaction because no way was Jakob coming on to her. For heaven’s sake, why would he, given the age gap? He probably felt sorry for her and thought that she didn’t have any kind of a social life. Which wasn’t far off the truth.
‘I thought we’d go to the Anchor on Silver Street,’ Jakob said, ‘or would you prefer the Granta? Or somewhere else?’
He sounded so eager to please. ‘The Anchor will be fine,’ she said.
Away from the cool shade and relative peace of St Anne’s Court, they made their way towards King’s Parade and as they jostled their way through the crowds, Nina could feel the dramatic change in temperature, both from the sun still beating down from the cloudless sky and the baking heat rising from the pavement.
By the time they reached the Anchor, Nina was wishing she was wearing a light cotton dress instead of her cream trouser suit and teal silk blouse. And just as she’d suspected it would be, the pub terrace was packed. There’d be no chance of a table. But she was wrong. Jakob spotted the only free table and with a hand to her elbow, he steered her to what was a prime position overlooking the river. On the table was a handwritten ‘reserved’ sign.
‘You booked?’ she said.
‘I did. In the hope you’d say yes.’
‘And if I’d preferred the Granta?’
‘I would have been in trouble.’ He smiled. ‘Perhaps I’m in trouble with you for presuming too much?’ Not giving her a chance to respond, he said, ‘What do you want to drink? I’ll go inside and order at the bar.’
‘A glass of whatever rosé they have would be good. A small one though.’
‘Anything to go with it? No, leave it to me, I’ll see what’s available.’
She watched him go, noting with amusement that she wasn’t the only one observing him. A group of Spanish-speaking girls were openly staring as he passed their table. She couldn’t blame them. He was definitely worth a second look of anyone’s time. Well-groomed and well-dressed, he was over six feet tall, broad shouldered, slim-waisted, and with an easy-going manner about him. His dark hair was short at the back but long at the front where his fringe dangled almost into his eyes, giving him a preppy look. He was a good catch in anyone’s book, as her mother would say.
It was what Mum had said about Hugh when her parents met him for the first time. ‘He’s a catch and a half,’ she had said.
‘As is Nina,’ Dad had chipped in, ever her biggest fan.
She missed her parents; it seemed an age since she’d last seen them. FaceTime chats, along with regular photos and videos, wereall very well, but it wasn’t the same as being together. Together was always better. That’s what Cassie had said in the first few weeks of her daughter flying off to be with her father in Dubai.
