‘I can see. What a guy.’
There’s a short silence as the queue begins to move again – very slowly. ‘This better be some damn good ice cream with a line this long.’
‘You know what they say. Everything tastes better when you wait.’
I look up. He locks eyes with me. The tips of my ears redden. ‘So I hear.’
Something begins to unfurl inside me. I hastily glance over at the kids. He clears his throat.
‘So, what’s new at work, Darling?’ he says, to my relief. Small talk I can do.
‘Oh, you know. Nothing’s on time. Everything’s over budget. Non-stop arm wrestles with those awkward sods in commissioning . . .’
‘We do try . . .’
‘Oh, and I’ve got that huge presentation at the end of the month too. I do it every year and hate it.’
He pulls a face. ‘Why? I’ve seen you present plenty of times. You’reslick.’
I snort. ‘I wouldn’t go that far, but thanks. I’m all right in a smallish group, but 200 people? My idea of hell. Don’t look so mystified. Just because you can stroll across a stage looking like you werebornto do a Ted Talk . . .’
‘Hardly.’
‘Well, you certainly don’t look nervous. Is it all a front? Are you a quivering wreck inside?’
‘Honestly?’ He pulls a pained expression. ‘No. Never.’
‘Never? I’m sure that’s the definition of a psychopath, isn’t it?’
‘I do hope not,’ he laughs. ‘Seriously, Darling. There are better things to worry about than whether you’re going to stumble over some words or your jokes fall flat. I mean . . . who gives one?’
‘Me, apparently. Any tips then?’
He shrugs. ‘Just be yourself.’
‘Oh Russo,’ I sigh. ‘That’ssocorny. I expected better of you.’
‘No, it’s not.It’s good advice.Yourselfis amazing,’ he says, holding my gaze in a way that seems deliberately provocative.
I wonder if the smile that’s on his lips is specifically designed to make me want to kiss them.
‘Have you ever thought of making fridge magnets?’ I say instead. ‘You’d make a bomb on Etsy.’
He smiles.
We shuffle forward in the queue. ‘So did you tell Rose her job is going to be empty again soon?’
I nod. ‘I did.’
‘She must be looking forward to coming back?’
‘Her focus right now is her treatment, but I’m sure she is. She’s always lived for that job. Plus, she couldn’t get enough of all the gossip from the awards.’
We finally reach the front and order four cones, but as I go to pay, Zach nudges me out of the way.
‘Least I can do is buy you an ice cream.’
The server lines up the finished waffle cones in a holder, one by one. Zach picks up mine with a napkin and passes it to me, followed by Jacob’s. Our hands brush both times, causing a ripple effect up my arm. I lick a small drip of cold ice cream from one of my fingers and I’m gripped by an unseemly flash of curiosity about what it would be like to do the same to one of his.
