Still, even if my taste in men is improving, I have a lot of damage to heal. Too much to allow myself to get close to someone new. As long as I hold James at a distance, as long as I only allow myself to daydream about him, we can both remain safe.
The sea of bodies between us shifts again and a merciful parting in the waves brings him back to me. He’s in a soft-looking jumper and jeans, Will in his customary sharp suit beside him. They have always had this yin and yang pull, Will’s loud, impulsive recklessness a foil for his younger brother’s reassuring calm. Even visually, Will’s dark hair and blue eyes seem a deliberate challenge to James’s sandy coloring and brown irises. The brothers seem to be in opposition in every way possible, aside from the timbre of their voices. Sometimes I have to wonder how long it will be before that friction ignites into a fire that will burn the whole business to the ground.
“One oat flat white!”
I’m startled, hand flying up in surprise and knocking over the glass of water in front of me. Straight onto my laptop.
“Shit!”
I expect a dramatic snap, crackle, and pop, or at least a gentle fizzing. Instead, the screen slowly flickers a quiet death. Cursing my incurable clumsiness, I take the laptop, turn it to its side, and give it a shake. The waitress behind me is flapping unhelpful concern.
“Oh my god. Sorry. Are you okay?”
Trying my best to rescue an unsalvageable situation, I flatten the laptop as best I can and flip it onto its front to drain. The backup laptops at work are even older and buggier than this one, and while Willmight have declared them fit for purpose, it’s not like he does enough real work to know.
“Some napkins would be great, please,” I say.
She claps her hands together in decisive agreement. “Yes, of course.”
When I look back up from the mess before me, my body goes stiff. I have taken my eyes off the brothers for a moment and looked back to where they were to find them both gone.
Panic digs its fingers into the crevices of my jaw and squeezes, clenching them tight. While my eyes dart across the room, I try to keep my head still. Try not to make my scanning too obvious, lest I give away my intentional watching of them, should they now be watching me. Keeping my wits about me, all I can do is—
“Natalie.”
My head swings around. James stands behind me, eyes crinkling gently in the corners, face lighting up like it’s made his day laying eyes on me. In his hands are large fistfuls of white napkins from the bar.
“God, James!” I’m good at faking surprise. I’m good at faking a lot of things. But I know James always comes to this food hall with his laptop to work, and I knew he had set up a meeting with Will and the owners today.
“I heard the ruckus all the way across the room. Thought I’d save the waitress a trip.”
“Um, thanks.” I try to tell my body to relax.
“Here, let me.”
He starts dabbing at the table, allowing me to take a handful of tissues from him and mop at the ruined slab of tech.
“Sorry about your laptop.”
I shrug. “It’s a piece of shit anyway.”
“Your boss should really get you a new one,” he says with a knowing smile. “Taken?” He points toward the slice of space opposite me. Ishake my head, trying to smother my surging excitement. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He leans against the table as he slides onto the bench. I try not to stare at the momentary tensing of the muscles in his forearms. James gestures at the laptop that I’ve left face down, draining. “Please tell me you weren’t working on Christmas Eve. I know I have to, for my sins, but if Will’s asked you to—”
“No.” My palms flash honesty at him as they fly up. “No, I promise no work stuff.” There’s not even a trace of suspicion in his eyes. He can’t have seen me lurking here. “Is Will around, too?”
He shakes his head and I’m embarrassed by how quickly the excitement leaps up again. “No, he’s off to meet some friends. I said I’d say hello to you and help rescue you from your laptop situation, then fire off a few more emails.” His head cocks to one side. “I’m in here all the time. How come I’ve never seen you before?”
My stomach tightens. “Well, I usually prefer sitting in a café nearer my flat, but it was closed. I remembered you’d recommended this place, but I didn’t think you’d be here today of all days.” Lie.
James gives me a curious look. “What’s the c—”
“Anyway, forget me, I can’t believe you’re working on Christmas Eve.”
He laughs, a laugh that comes from deep within his chest and wraps the both of us in a gentle warmth. If he planned to grill me, it seems the plan has been quickly forgotten. “True,” he says, “but that’s the price of being the boss.”
The waitress drifts back into view, sets my coffee down in front of me. I thank her, not taking my eyes off James as I try to assess whether he’s seen through me. If he can smell the deception and desperation. “Well, please, don’t let me stop you if you need to be cracking on.”
I’ve already noticed the glances to the MacBook poking out of his rucksack. The weariness that crosses his expression. Will gets to beMr. Charisma, never slow to volunteer for a sampling meeting with a potential new stocker, spending an afternoon laughing and schmoozing over beers. James is the one who keeps the books in order, the orders on time, the time-blind new hires on track. Without him, the business would surely fall apart or descend into chaos.
