I reached for the railings beside me and clung on tight as he raked his hair away from his face and looked up.
‘Where I ask if you want to hang out again sometime,’ he finished his sentence with bright pink cheeks. ‘And hopefullyyou say yes then I say I’ll call you and I go home happier than a guy with unlimited Leopold’s for life.’
‘But you can’t,’ I replied, flustered when panic flashed across his features. ‘Call me, I mean. Because I don’t have a phone. But I would really, really like to hang out again.’
He blew out a breath I didn’t know he was holding in and the tension in his face turned into joy.
‘How about Sunday morning, nine thirty?’ he suggested. ‘I’ve been thinking about it and I reckon I know a place you’re going to love.’
‘Sunday morning is great.’ I folded my arms across my chest to stop myself from throwing them up in the air to celebrate. ‘Where should I meet you?’
It was my incredibly unsubtle way of letting him know he still shouldn’t come calling at the house.
‘Sunday, nine thirty a.m., Lafayette Square,’ he said, chameleon eyes shining. ‘Until then, Emily James.’
We stayed right where we were, smiling at each other without saying another word until Wyn shoved his hands in his pockets and took a couple of backwards steps away from me as if struggling to break out of my orbit. But it didn’t matter where he went, Wyn Evans was the sun, everything revolved around him now. I waved as he went, leaning against the railings and watching until he disappeared. It might have been the worst tour of Savannah anyone had ever given but it was, without a doubt, the greatest non-date in the history of the world.
Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Twelve
‘Here she is, just in time for supper.’
Catherine was sitting at the dining room table when I waltzed through the door and floated down the hallway, barely registering the ground beneath my feet as I followed her voice. She looked so elegant, I felt as though I’d walked in wearing a garbage bag.
‘Are you going out?’ I asked, my magical time with Wyn melting away and memories of the night before rushing back to take his place.
There was no evidence of our epic battle anywhere on my grandmother. I could hardly believe this was the same woman I’d stood beside less than twenty-four hours ago, fighting for our lives. Her glossy hair was pulled back from her face in an elaborate knot and she wore huge emeralds in her ears, almost as big and bright as her eyes, and the exact same colour as her fancy silk dress. I couldn’t see a scratch on her. To her left, Ashley looked neat and tidy in a not quite so fancy but still very pretty blue dress. Her long chestnut braid fell down her back and she wore a typically uninterested expression on her face.
Catherine shook her head and smiled. ‘I like to dress forsupper. It’s an old-fashioned idea, I know, but why not bring a sense of occasion to the everyday and mundane?’
I checked my watch, shocked to see it was already six p.m., Wyn and I had whiled away seven hours together. Across the table, I saw Ashley attempting to hide a smirk.
‘I’ll go change,’ I said, one hand already on the door handle, even though I had no idea what I was planning to change into. All I’d brought with me were blue jeans, black T-shirts, a couple of my dad’s old white button-ups, a handful of useless, warm wool sweaters and one plain black dress I’d worn once and once only. I had no desire even to see that dress again.
‘I think we can make an exception for tonight.’
Catherine fussed with my hair as I sat, attempting to straighten the one weirdly wavy bit at the front that required far more than sheer force of will to tame. ‘You and I should plan a little shopping trip. There’s a boutique down on Barnard that has the cutest little sundress in the window. It would look just heavenly on you.’
This time, Ashley didn’t even try to disguise her amusement.
‘Yeah, they have this cool new concept there,’ she added, saccharine sweet. ‘It’s called “colour”. Have you heard of it?’
‘Ashley, darling, would you be an angel and go check on the soup?’ Catherine said lightly. ‘It might need a scooch more seasoning.’
Ashley gave her a thunderous look.
‘It was perfect when I tried it five minutes ago.’
‘How strange,’ her mother replied as she fanned out her napkin with a flourish. ‘I found it to be a little tasteless.’
Pushing back her chair, the legs screeching along the wooden floor, Ashley stalked through the door that led to the kitchen, muttering something ugly under her breath.
‘Catherine?’ I said hesitantly, waiting until the swinging door came to a complete stop.
‘I need to talk to you about last night.’
My voice dropped to an urgent whisper even though there was far too much banging around in the kitchen for anyone else to overhear. ‘Are you OK?’
