Oliver gestured towards her father. ‘He literally ordered me to sit down and take a break.’
A huge smile brightened Pippa’s face. ‘Yep, that’s my dad.’
Brett was laughing and joking with a couple of the ramblers, a king in his castle. Pippa settled onto the bar stool next to Oliver and then both watched Brett in awe. He was the perfect host. Laughing along with his new customers and charming them as he regaled the ramblers with tales of his afternoon in the city, sampling beers from popular pubs.
‘We did okay, didn’t we?’
Pippa turned away from watching her father and looked at Oliver. He had been studying her profile.
She smiled at him coyly. ‘We did. But that was just round one of many for me.’
Oliver looked surprised. ‘Do you intend staying here a long time?’
Pippa didn’t want to give too much away. ‘I only intended to stay a week, maybe two. But my aunt and dad haven’t really had any time off since my mom’s passing, so I thought I’d stick around a little longer. Maybe extend my visit for at least a month, maybe more.’
Oliver nodded and looked deep in contemplation. ‘I told Morgan I’d help out until Brett’s arthritis flare up calmed down, but if it stays busy like this, I don’t mind extending my help, too. I can always catch up with my own business in my free time.’
A flurry of butterflies raced around Pippa’s stomach. It would be nice to spend more time with Oliver and catch up on the years apart. ‘Won’t your business suffer though?’
Oliver shrugged. ‘I don’t really know, but the crazy thing is...I don’t really care. I’m loving it working here. As you know, I’ve always wanted to work behind that bar.’ He pointed to where Brett stood. ‘I always had it in my head at high school that once I’d finished uni. I’d nab the first part-time job that became available here, whilst I applied for apprentice positions in tech companies.’ He suddenly looked miles away. ‘But who’d have thought my life would be turned upside down by my parent’s divorce? Taking me on a different path, and moving me away from here to the US?’
Brett leaned on the pumps towards them. ‘What can I get for the workers?’
Pippa gasped and stuck out her tongue, fawning dehydration. ‘I’m parched, dad. Can I have a pint of soda water and lime, please?’
‘Not a glass of Guinness?’ Brett looked surprised.
‘Maybe later. A half pint at last orders.’
Brett turned his head and looked at Oliver. ‘Oliver?’
Oliver grinned. ‘It depends on if I’m coming back behind the bar tonight?’
Brett laughed, and the deep, hearty tones of his voice drew smiles from the locals. ‘Looks like you’re in good spirits tonight, Brett.’ called out Ned, his hand hovering mid-air ready to take his shot at the dartboard.
‘I am, Ned. I’ve got my daughter back.’
Pippa’s heart felt as though it had swollen to twice its size. She had to take in a long, deep breath to stop herself from welling up.
Brett drew his attention back to Oliver. ‘You don’t need to work the bar anymore tonight, Oliver. I’m feeling on top of the world. My arthritis pain has been better all day, but that’s not to say it won’t give me jip tomorrow. But while I’m pain free, I’m happy to be standing here on this side of the bar. Why don’t you stay where you are and keep my lovely daughter company?’
Pippa’s stomach clenched tight. Any other time she’d be happy at the suggestion, but after working in the kitchen all night she knew she looked a mess, and probably stank of cooking, too. ‘I-I’m only staying down here for another half an hour, dad. I need to see to Ginger. He’s still upstairs and he’ll need to be let out to pee.’
Brett frowned. ‘You can bring him in here after you’ve seen to him, love. We are a dog-friendly pub, or has it been so long since you’ve been here, you’ve forgotten?’
Pippa’s mouth dropped open just as Morgan appeared with a tray of tapas style foods she’d made up from the cooked leftovers Pippa had kept warm in the oven. Aunt Morgan set them down on the bar in front of Pippa and Oliver. ‘There you go. You two don’t mind sharing this lot, do you? Of course, I’ve brought out two forks and two plates, so just help yourselves.’
Oliver beamed. ‘Wow. Thank you, Morgan. This looks amazing.’
‘Don’t thank me. I didn’t cook it. It was Pippa. I’m taking no credit. I’m going to make a start cleaning up the kitchen while you tuck in.’
Pippa stood up. ‘I’ll do it aunt.’
‘No. You sit down and eat your supper. You’ve both worked really hard today while Brett and I have been off gallivanting. It’s time for us to roll up our sleeves and do a bit of work now.’
Pippa plonked herself back down on the seat with a small sigh and a smile. ‘Thanks Aunt.’
Oliver scooped a bit of everything onto his plate and tucked in. He made appreciative noises and Pippa glanced at him with a grin, feeling quite pleased with herself. She was a decent cook, but she wasn’t about to win any a la carte competitions.
