“Striking,” Penny had complimented her when Catherine wobbled with insecurity about her new look. Penny, ever the optimist, had a knack for finding the silver lining in every cloud, or in this case, in Catherine's hair. “If anyone can rock a silver quiff, babe, it’s you.”
“It’s platinum!” Catherine had grimaced.
Sitting at their usual table, she pulled out her reading glasses and scanned the menu while waiting for Penny. Futile, as they almost always ordered the same five dishes and a bottle of Tempranillo. But it wassomething to do with her hands other than look at her phone, which would lead to thinking about the Daltons.
Curiosity nibbled at her about why Jeremy was messaging, but she was allowed an evening off — this whole mess had already consumed too much of her headspace. And here she was, thinking about it again. Now would be a good time for her to swallow her own medicine and practice what she preached on her blog. Advice was easy to dispense, far harder to follow. She sighed.
“Struggling to choose?” A voice pulled Catherine from her thoughts. She glanced over the top of the menu and into the skilfully made-up eyes of the red-haired woman smiling at her from the next table. Catherine hadn’t noticed her sitting there before but was now unsure how she’d failed to. Her fiery hair cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, framing a face both striking and approachable.
The woman twirled the stem of an almost-empty wineglass between her fingers. “You were frowning so hard I thought you might need help.”
“Help?”
“With the menu,” the woman laughed.
Scottish.Catherine placed the woman’s accent and smiled. “Actually, I’m a regular. I always order the same thing, so I don’t even know why I’m looking to be honest.” Catherine folded the menu and patted it as she placed it down. “I highly recommend the Pimientos de Padrón.”
“Yes, they’re delicious!” The woman popped an olive in her mouth, rested her chin on her hand, and fixed her hazel eyes onCatherine.
Catherine swallowed and glanced away, heat rising in her cheeks.
“So, why the frowny face?” the woman asked.
Catherine breathed out a soft laugh. “Oh, tough day… a difficult few days actually, but best not get into all that. I’m waiting for my friend?—”
The restaurant door swung open, and they both turned as Penny swept in, instantly filling the room with her presence and the smell of her zesty perfume.
Mateo, the restaurant owner, rushed out from behind the bar and greeted Penny with an elaborate hug and kisses on both cheeks. As the two of them stood locked in an animated conversation, Catherine looked back to the woman, who was now standing and slipping on a bold red coat.
“Trust me, get the Pan Tumaca if you don’t usually order it.” Her eyes sparkled.
“We don’t. Thank you, I’ll try it.” Catherine smiled politely, surprised by the pinch of regret she felt at their conversation ending so soon. Her gaze followed as the redhead swished out of the restaurant.
“Who was that?” asked Penny with a waggle of her eyebrows as she took her seat.
Catherine looked back to the door. “No idea.”
Penny widened her eyes. “Bloody gorgeous.”
“Hmm… she was rather attractive, wasn’t she?”
“It’s women like that who make me seriously question my life choices. Did you get her number?”
Catherine scoffed. “You don’t regret Lawrence one little bit. And no, you know I’m not a fast mover, Pen.”
“I know, babe, sloths move faster. Now, where’s our chap gone?” Penny glanced around for Mateo. Upon catching her eye, he scurried over, notepad in hand.
“The same as usual, sí? With the Tempranillo, you er, want the bottle, sí?”
“Yes, perfect.” Catherine unfolded the menu again and ran a finger down the list until she reached what she was looking for. “And we’ll try the Pan Tumaca as well, please.”
“Sí, sí, Catalan toast.” Mateo scribbled on his pad, nodding as he backed away.
Penny raised an eyebrow.
“What? It’s good to try new things now and again,” said Catherine.
“Sure. So tell me, did everything go okay with your PA?”
