Judging by the way he held her hand in his, he wasn’t regretting the kiss, or at least she hoped he wasn’t. Still, the dark look in his gaze as he’d stared blankly into the distance had made her want to know what was going on inside his head.
Perhaps, in time, she’d find out. If this was the beginning of something between the two of them, and she really hoped it was, then getting to know one another better would happen naturally. Learning more about Ryan was, Grace hoped, as inevitable as it was appealing.
She couldn’t wait to find out more about who he was and what made him tick.
“Tell me about your songwriting process, Ryan,” she said as they walked the trail together. “Do you get inspiration from places like this? The countryside and the great outdoors?”
“It depends on what I’m writing,” he said. “But while I’m enjoying being out here right now, for many reasons,”—he gave her a warm smile and a squeeze of her hand as he said this—“the truth is that when I’m in songwriting mode, I need to be at my piano or sitting with my guitar. I like to test out the notes and the harmonies as I write. Music rarely just composes itself inside my head while I’m doing other things.”
“Did you always want to be a songwriter, or did you ever perform the songs you write yourself instead of writing them for others?”
Her question caused his expression to shift and sent his eyebrows into a wary frown.
“Most songwriters have performed as singers or musicians at some point in their lives. Not all, but most, would be my guess. That’s how you get a feel for what works, by going through the motions of testing yourself in front of an audience and seeing how people respond. It builds musical muscle, I suppose you might say.”
Grace was fascinated by his answer, not just by his insight into the musical world he inhabited, but also by the fact he hadn’t actually answered her question. Curious though she found that omission, the strained look still evident on his face told her not to dwell on it. There was no point turning their lovely country walk into an inquisition.
Instead, she waved a hand to gesture towards the stunning scenery around them.
“Well, I don’t know about musical muscle, but this walk is building calf muscle, that’s for sure,” she laughed. “This incline we’re climbing is deceptively steep.”
“You’re right,” Ryan smiled, the tension in his face gone once more. “And this climb is even more evidence, if any were needed, that my grandmother had no intention of coming on this walk with us. This terrain is more challenging than she said she was up for when she shortlisted the walks she’d selected, and I feel sure she must have known that, which was why she originally opted against this route.”
“I am enjoying it, though. A good walk outdoors is just what I needed.”
Stanley paused to sniff at a patch of shrubbery that ran along one side of the trail through the grassland, and when Grace slowed down to wait for him, she noticed Ryan giving her a thoughtful look.
“How are you feeling about the promotion news you got yesterday, now that it’s had time to sink in?” he asked, his tone soft.
Grace shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m still out of sorts about it, and I’m definitely still sulking a bit that it didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would.” She gave a wry smile before continuing. “My instinct was to get right back on the horse and keep working hard, keep studying and learning, so that when the promotion process restarts, I’m in the best position possible. Butwhen I sat down this morning with my laptop and tried to get some work done, I couldn’t find any enthusiasm whatsoever.”
“Your manager at work said you needed some proper time away, and that’s what I think, too. Turns out we were both right.”
“Maybe,” she said with another shrug. “I don’t find it particularly easy to take time off. Work is my whole life. I know that makes me sound sad and pathetic, but I love what I do and I just feel that…” She searched for the right words to explain it. “I just feel that when I get this promotion, and become a full manager, things will feel… secure.”
Ryan’s gaze swung towards her, his expression more curious than ever. “I thought you said all the jobs at your hotel were safe, despite all the changes that are happening?”
“They are safe. Well, for now anyway, according to my manager. But I know that once I get this promotion, I’ll feel more secure and like I’ve accomplished something important for myself.”
He seemed to consider this for a moment before saying something else. “What made you want to get into the hospitality sector?”
“It was an accident, really. When I was still in school, I got a part-time job as a waitress at the weekends working in a hotel near my home down in Portsmouth. It was a family-run place, and they had a decent-sized function room where they hosted a lot of wedding receptions and special dinner events and so on during the weekend, and they always needed serving staff to cover the work. I enjoyed it, and when I left school, the owners offered me a job working there full-time in the hotel restaurant. I was there for about a year before I got another job elsewhere, working on a hotel reception desk and learning some of the back office stuff. And things just went from there.”
“You worked your way up from the bottom,” Ryan said with a soft smile. “It must have taken a lot of effort and graft to get to where you are now, working in a five-star hotel.”
“Hard work doesn’t scare me,” Grace laughed.
“Did you ever consider going to university to study hotel management, or something along those lines? You obviously have a great knack for the business, and maybe a degree would help you get higher up into the managerial positions you seem to want so badly.”
Grace shook her head. “University was never an option. It was just too expensive. The idea of taking on all that student debt to fund a degree, it gives me shivers, and…”
She stopped herself from finishing the sentence. Talking with Ryan felt so comfortable, and it would be too easy to share things she might not want to share, not yet anyway.
But when she glanced up and saw the way he was looking at her, his expression encouraging and filled with care, it made her want to keep talking. Only worry about what Ryan would think of the story she had to share made her stay silent.
“What else were you going to say?” Ryan asked at length, his tone gentle. “You can tell me. You can trust me, too, with whatever it is.”
Holding his gaze, she knew it was true. Shecouldtrust him. She could share the unhappy story she never shared, not with anyone.
