“Can I have a card too,” Sorrell said. “Then I can send you Keren’s number. She’s too coy to do it herself.” She held out her hand.
Keren felt her face flush. “Thanks, Friend.”
“You’re welcome, Friend,” Sorrell said back. “And thank you.” Sam passed her the card.
“It’ll be really good to hear from you,” he said, looking directly at Keren. “And I’d love to crash your lunch, but sometimes being indispensable isn’t a good thing. Have a great afternoon.”
“We will. And thanks for the drinks,” Keren said, watching him as he left, giving the bar staff a quick hand to say thank you.
“He was gorgeous!” Sorrell said. “You have to message him!”
Keren stared at his card. It didn’t feel right. Even chatting to him for minutes hadn’t felt right. “I don’t think I will.”
“Why? He’s a walking, living, breathing man toy who has a great job and lives in the city. Every box you’ve been wanting to tick given that Severton isn’t exactly singles central,” she said, tapping her finger on the card.
Keren looked out of the huge windows onto the street, half expecting someone she knew to walk past. But that would happen in Severton. Not here. Everyone here was a stranger.
Suddenly she felt homesick.
And she wanted to walk into The Last Temperance Bar and see the man who had been her arch-enemy for all of her adult life.
“It’s complicated,” she said to Sorrell, bringing herself back to earth.
“Do I need to put my therapist face on?” Sorrell said, transferring her smile to a totally neutral expression in a way that was actually quite scary.
Keren shifted her head back a little. “No. Just the confidential part.”
Sorrell squinted. “This is about Scott, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.” Maybe having a therapist friend who was too good at reading body language was a completely terrible idea.
Sorrell gestured for the waiter to come over, ordering two more cocktails and the food they’d decided on. Keren was aware that her so-called-friend was giving her chance to get her head straight so she was able to form the necessary words.
“Tell me about Scott.”
“We kissed. Twice.” It was possibly more times, but there were two occasions.
“Okay. When?” Sorrell did not react in the way Rayah would’ve done or any other friends. There was an under reaction, which was right as it was only a kiss. She’d kissed boys when she was in school more times than she’d kissed Scott Maynard.
But this wasn’t in school. It was a lot bigger than that. And other things had felt a lot bigger too.
“The evening of my second date with Oliver. He had to leave early because Stevie turned up,” Keren said. “You want details, don’t you?”
Sorrell shook her head. “I want what you’re happy to tell me. Given how you two have interacted with each other since I’ve known you, I’ve thought there was more going on than just two people who didn’t get along. You’re both hyper aware of each other. You have chemistry.”
Keren inhaled deeply. “He told me he was going to ask me out when I was eighteen and he’d just finished university,” she said. “But apparently, one of his friends had told him that I’d said something along the lines of not touching such a weirdo muso with a ten-foot barge pole.” It hadn’t been Scott she’d said that about: she half remembered it now, or maybe it was just her subconscious trying to fill in gaps.
Sorrell accepted the drinks from the waiter, immediately sucking on the long straw. She didn’t often get a whole day off and Keren could see she was making the most of it.
“Did you say that?”
“Not about Scott. If I thought at eighteen that Scott Maynard wanted to go out with me, I’d have run through town with a banner.”
“You liked him?” Sorrell said, coming up for air.
“I always liked him. He was my friend and being that bit older, he was always out of my league. All the girls at school and college thought he was gorgeous and I did too but I never thought that he’d be interested so I didn’t crush on him,” she explained. “And he wasn’t mysterious to me. He was the boy I’d played with as a kid.”
“I get that. So you didn’t call him a weird muso?” Sorrell said, her cocktail now half gone.
