But when I take it out and look at it again, the thought doesn’t change. It feels true. Mad as it is for the little time we’ve known each other, I’m falling for Angus.
And I’m falling hard.
“Um, yeah…” I feel flustered. “He said you were the one who helped him do all of this.” I gesture loosely at the farm. “That it was your investment that kept him afloat. That’s really…” I don’t have the words, so I settle on. “You must be an incredible friend.”
The sharp look doesn’t falter, but I let myself imagine there is some softness there.
“He told you that, did he?”
“Yes. Shouldn’t he have? It’s amazing what you’ve done.”
“Don’t make him out to be such a martyr,” Jonathan says from the floor. “His ego barely fits in the room as it is.”
Stuart kicks him gently. “And yours is a mere speck, is it?”
“Running an events space has always been his dream,” Jonathan cuts in over him. “It’s all he’s talked about for the last ten years, so this is really the kick up the arse he needed to finally do it.”
Stuart has the grace to look a little chastened. “I did want to help Angus out. But” – he sighs – “I may have been looking for an excuse to finally quit the hell that is the City.”
“And?” I’m curious now. “How is it?”
“Stressful. But also… magical.”
Priya perks up, looking at Jonathan. “You made the cake, right? Are you a baker?”
“We had a bit of a nosy around earlier,” Lila explains. “What you’ve done with this place is nothing short of extraordinary. And the cake is a work of art.”
Jonathan laughs. “Thank you, but no, I’m not a baker. Making cakes is a hobby of mine. Something I do to relax. Besides, one of us has to make money.”
“Jonathan pretends to be high and mighty, but he’s really addicted to his work.”
“You work in London, yeah?” Ewan asks from the other sofa.
“Yes. I’m a Responsible Investment Lead at an independent partnership.”
“Huh. And it pays well?”
“Well enough.” Jonathan cocks his head. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” But I can see the gears in Ewan’s brain turning as he looks between the two men.
“I’m due another beer,” Ross says, levering himself up. “Anyone want one?”
There are murmurs of assent across the room.
“Alright, make that six beers. I’ll be back.” He points at Ewan. “And I’m coming for you when I do.”
“You’re on, old man.”
“I'm going to get changed.” I’m more than over the dress now. And if we’re settling in for another hour then I want to be comfortable.
“You’re a smarter woman than me, if you thought to pack pyjamas,” Lila says, looking down at herself.
“I did not.”
“Wait. What are you going to change into then?” Mason asks.
“My leggings, I guess?” Muddy as they are, they’re still better than the dress I’m wearing, and my only other options are jeans or my wedding outfit, which are hardly better.
