‘Cal, come on, she’s gorgeous and you know it.’ Cara stared at the door Bea had gone through as if to check she wasn’t coming back yet. ‘Spill, please. What’s going on?’
‘And the more you deny it, the more you give away, by the way,’ Eilidh added.
‘Nothing is going on.’ Cal was sure his face was burning up with guilt, even though technically he wasn’t lying when he said nothing was going on.
‘Okay, but would you like for there to be something going on?’ Cara asked.
‘Look,’ Cal almost spluttered. ‘Bea is a brilliant bartender.’ Damn right, she was. She mixed drinks with aplomb, moved from the optics to the till as if she was floating on air, charmed every customer, and was genuinely happy the entire time. ‘But that’s it.’ He was about to say that Bea wasn’t his type: too confident, flirtatious, and full of ditsy affectation, but that was his old opinion of her, formed when he first met her under quite strange circumstances. In the coffee shop, she had reminded him of Elisabetta: of the nonsense he’d idiotically fallen for because his ego had sucked him in to imagining he was some sort of hero as she contrived things like getting her heels trapped in between paving slabs and dropping her handbag and half its contents in front of him – even several months into their relationship. He’d jumped to conclusions about Bea and judged her by those same criteria. But he could see now she was a different mettle of woman entirely. Bea was hard-working, down to earth and genuinely charming.
‘I’m not buying that that’s it.’ Cara shook her head. ‘Nuh-uh.’
‘Me neither,’ said Eilidh. ‘We were getting singed from the sparks over here.’
Cal sighed. ‘Okay, there might be a bit of chemistry or something between me and her, but we won’t be going there.’
‘Why not?’ Eilidh leaned in.
‘Well, for one, I’m her boss.’
‘And for two?’
Cal rolled his eyes. ‘For two, I’m staying away from women for a bit.’Indefinitely,he thought. Even hard-working bartenders – until all the baby stuff was sorted out, and it was clearer how things were with his Dad. He could resist temptation until Bea went home. Keep things on a friendly but professional level with her.
‘Hmm.’ Cara and Eilidh knew Cal was stubborn and wouldn’t admit anything more, but he could tell they were sceptical and unconvinced.
‘Mark the words of your weird sisters,’ said Cara as she and Eilidh were putting their jackets on to leave. ‘You and Bea would be good together. Don’t be a Martian, Cal.’
Eilidh and Cal laughed together at this. ‘Do you mean a martyr?’ he said. ‘And should you be having any more drinks? I think you should go home and get to bed.’
‘Aye, that’s the one,’ said Cara, pointedly draining her glass. ‘If you like her, then stop being a Martian … a martyr and forget you’re her boss. Life’s too short.’
‘She might have a point,’ said Eilidh.
‘Okay, thanks weirdos. Look, have a good night and stay safe.’ Cal hugged his sisters goodbye. He loved them dearly, but he wasn’t about to take advice from them on his love life. He could manage fine using his own radar to guide him. And his own radar said to keep things with Bea purely professional.
Chapter 20
Bea
1.05 a.m. the following day. Bea watched as Cal locked the door behind the last customer and allowed herself a sigh of relief. An empty bar at last. Not to mention alone with the boss for the first time since he’d hired her three weeks ago.
Cal, too, let out a huge breath and loosened his tie and collar. ‘What a night,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen the bar so busy.’
‘I know. I wasn’t sure we would ever get through that crowd.’ Bea considered that Cal was even more sexy now than twelve hours ago when his crumpled white shirt with its rolled-up sleeves was crisp and fresh. ‘It was six deep at one point. I hope it won’t lead to bad reviews about serving time.’
‘I think we’ll be fine.’ A rare smile drifted onto Cal’s face. ‘You‘ve developed quite a fan base.’
Bea hoped this sideways compliment meant Cal was softening a little. She dipped her toe into the waters of flirtation. ‘I told you, people will queue up for miles for my Manhattans.’
‘Aye, it’ll be your Manhattans, right enough.’ Cal retorted without missing a beat. Then he grinned, grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat in front of the bar.
Oh, I like this Cal. Give me more.
But then Cal’s voice dropped a semi-tone and he was back to serious. And disappointing. ‘Listen, Bea, you put in the graft of Kitty, Zack and yourself combined tonight, so why don’t you head off now. I’ll clean up here.’
‘Oh, no!’ Bea’s reaction to manual labour was so reflexive that she surprised herself. ‘No way am I letting you clear all this up alone. You’ll be here until opening tomorrow.’
Cal’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You enjoy cleaning?’ He raised his beer to his lips.
