‘Great. It’s a date.’ He met my eyes. ‘No, not a date. An invitation. Tell me about your shop and the online business,’ he said, hastily changing the subject.
I’d already told him that Mum had moved back to Kingston upon Thames when she and Dad split up, and that she owned a bridal shop.
‘When Mum moved back, she got a job in the bridal shop she now owns. When the former owners decided to retire, the following year, they asked Mum if she’d like to buy their lease, and she snapped it up. I was intending to try to get a job in a fashion house specialising in bridal wear, or in a bridal boutique in London, or another big city, when I finished my degree, but as soon as Mum bought that lease, I knew where I wanted to be. So I joined her in the shop, and we expanded online. As you said, the Pandemic was a tough time, but we managed to get through it. I’ve designed some wedding dresses. Well, quite a few, actually. And one day I might concentrate more on the design side, rather than the retail side, but for now, I’m happy with things as they are.’
‘I’d love to see some of your designs.’
I raised my brows and laughed. ‘Seriously? Someone who doesn’t believe in relationships, wants to see wedding dress designs?’ I shook my head.
‘Why not? They’re just dresses, aren’t they? It’s the designs that interest me, not what they stand for.’
‘Okay.’ I took out my phone and scrolled to the photos of my own designs, some of the gowns were modelled by Erin and some by me. The first photo was of Erin. ‘That’s not me, that’s my best friend, Erin. People say we look like twins.’
He looked at the photo and then up at me. ‘You do look alike, but I wouldn’t say you were twins. The dress is stunning though.’ He scrolled to the next photo and gave a sharp gasp, and this time, when he looked up at me there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite fathom but it sent a frisson of excitement through me. ‘You … you make a beautiful bride.’ His eyes held mine for a few moments and then he studied the photo, a small crease appearing between his brows as his jaw tightened.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘There’re a few more photos.’
He shot me a look and then scrolled to the next one. Another photo of me but in a different dress. This one was a rather sexy, off the shoulder, tightly fitted, and short-skirted number, leaving little to the imagination, and I might’ve imagined it, but I was sure his hand tightened around my phone, and his body seemed to tense. He coughed swallowed hard, coughed quickly, and rapidly scrolled to the next photo, and then the next, and then slowed down slightly once he reached another photo of Erin.
Was my heart playing tricks on me, or did he seem to find the photos of me in a wedding dress – any wedding dress – difficult to look at?
Or did he just prefer looking at Erin?
‘You’re very talented, Lucy.’
He handed me back my phone but as our fingers brushed, he snatched his hand away. I almost dropped the phone as I hadn’t got a firm hold on it, but he was already finishing his meal, his eyes now fixed on his plate, not on me.
There was an awkward silence for a while as we both cleared our plates but as soon as we put down our cutlery, the waitress reappeared. She seemed to pop up constantly, despite how busy the restaurant was. Although there did seem to be an ample supply of staff.
‘Would you like to see our dessert menu?’
‘Not for me, thanks,’ I said, reaching for my wine glass and drinking down the remaining contents.
Sam shook his head. ‘Just the bill, please.’ Then he refilled my glass.
‘I think I’ve had enough,’ I said, laughing to make light of how much I had drunk.
‘I’ve got my bike, so one glass is enough for me.’
That’s when I realised that he had been refilling my glass and not his own. In addition to the three large glasses I’d consumed before he arrived, I’d now drunk most of the bottle.
‘Are you trying to get me drunk to have your wicked way with me?’
I regretted it the second the words tumbled out of my mouth.
He frowned. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘No! It was a joke. You don’t need to get me drunk. I mean … No. Although, to be completely honest, I am a little tipsy. My fault. Not yours. You see, I’d had a couple of glasses before you arrived. And I hadn’t eaten anything since early this morning.’
‘You don’t need to explain.’
‘I’m not. Erm.’ I shook my head. ‘Sorry.’
‘What for?’
I shrugged. ‘Ruining everything.’
‘Cash or card?’
