She blinked, as if she’d forgotten she was talking to him. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Really? I should warn you that it’s years since I’ve done any bar work. Like I said, I was a student. I’m probably very rusty. And it’s only until the end of the summer holidays. I have to go back to my real job in September.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he told her, all too aware that there might notbeany pub in September. ‘Any hours you can do will be a huge help to me. If you’re sure?’
She bit her lip as if she was suddenly far from sure. Then, to his relief, she nodded. ‘Absolutely. When do you want me to start?’
He looked at her standing there in front of him, all fragile beauty with her shoulder-length light brown hair, slightly pointed chin, high cheekbones and those eyes… Bloody hell!
She couldn’t have been more than five foot three or four, and she was so slight he felt he could pick her up without even noticing.
His stomach lurched and he swallowed. He’d never had such a visceral reaction to a woman before – not even Layla. Definitely not Layla.
‘Sam? I mean, Mr Hughes. I should call you that really, shouldn’t I? If you’re going to be my boss.’
He blinked, as dazed as she’d looked a few moments ago. ‘What?’ he asked stupidly.
‘When do you want me to start?’ she said, frowning.
Sam pulled himself together. ‘Tomorrow evening. Sunday. Would that be okay?’
She considered the matter a moment then nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said determinedly. ‘That will be fine. Shall we say six?’
‘Six. Yes, why not?’ He was acutely aware that he wasn’t being very professional about all this. ‘Six o’clock,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll see you then.’
‘You will,’ she promised. ‘Thank you. Bye, Mr Hughes.’
‘Sam,’ he called, as she headed towards the door. ‘Call me Sam!’
She smiled and nodded, then left the room and Sam slumped against the counter, feeling completely wrung out and yet, somehow, wildly exhilarated.
‘I must say,’ came a grumpy voice in his ear, ‘that I wouldn’t give a dog what you call steak. And as a matter of fact, I ordered medium rare, not practically mooing. I do think that if this was The Shoulder of Lamb in Heronsea they’d be giving us free drinks by way of an apology.’
Sam gave Pink Lipstick a beaming smile. ‘Sadly, you’re not at The Shoulder of Lamb. But please, feel free to go there in future, and do give the landlord my regards. He’s one of my dad’s closest friends.’
Even Pink Lipstick’s scowl and sarcastic ‘Huh!’ couldn’t dim his spirits. Suddenly, the evening looked a whole lot brighter, and there was an unexpected lightness in his heart.
Until he remembered that Jenna was Alison’s daughter. And she was married. And she had twin daughters.
It couldn’t go anywhere.
Nothing much ever did.
10
‘I don’t care what anyone says,’ Rosie said, smothering sun cream on her arms and giving a satisfied smile, ‘on a hot, sunny day like this, the beach here at Millensea’s as good as anywhere.’
Her brother grinned down at her as she lay on a beach towel, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. ‘Are you saying it matches the ones in the Caribbean? Or the Seychelles? Or?—’
‘All right, shut up, Niall!’ Rosie waved him away. ‘Got a better beach than Sheffield, anyway.’
‘And having lived in Sheffield for twenty years, she should know,’ Mum said, laughing.
‘Well, I think she’s right,’ Grandad said, nodding eagerly. ‘Mind you, there’s a whelk stall at Burlington-on-Sea that would give this place a run for its money. Can’t get whelks here, can you?’
Gran rolled her eyes. ‘Do you ever have a conversation that doesn’t revolve around food?’
Uncle Christopher, who was sitting – like his brother, wife, and sister-in-law – on a deckchair, shook his head.
‘I’ve known him all my life, and I can state categorically that he doesn’t.’
