‘Is that wrong? I grew up with a tough mother. You learn to pick your battles.’
‘No, it’s not wrong. It’s a gift. I told you, I’m not like that.’
‘Well, we all have different qualities,’ Deb said.
‘Indeed. How’s the party planning going?’ he asked. ‘That’s a nice one.’ He nodded as she picked up a notebook covered in red silk. ‘Suits you.’
‘The notebook suits me?’
‘Red. Because of your colouring,’ he added, hastily. ‘You’ve got that same dark hair, like me. Though yours is a lot prettier, of course.’ He looked immediately uncomfortable. ‘Sorry. I just meant… you know…’ he trailed off. ‘Because it’s long. And… silky.’
‘You’re just making it worse now, really.’ Deb started to giggle at his obvious awkwardness. Kyle had gone from bolshy property developer to awkward school boy in a matter of seconds.
‘I know. Please take pity on me and pretend I didn’t just say that.’ He put a hand over his face and laughed. ‘Tell me about the party.’
‘Well, it’s a big project,’ she replied, knowing that she could have taunted him for longer, but also that he was mostly a complete stranger. The thing was, Deb felt strangely comfortable in his presence, and comfortable in teasing him too. Even though the first time she’d met him, they’d argued. But, then, even that was unusual for her. Deb wasn’t usually someone to argue with a complete stranger, but she had felt totally fine about expressing herself with Kyle.
What did that mean? Perhaps, post-hysterectomy, Deb was just less keen to take bullshit fromanyone. It made sense: once you’d laid on the operating table, seen the anaesthetist come at you with that big needle and know, when you woke up, that your uterus would be gone – once you’d weathered that and survived,and survived the pain afterwards, then a little bit of standing up for yourself in public didn’t seem like that much of a big deal.
Yes, she’d always be a diplomatic sort of person, most likely. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be strong when she needed to be.
‘I bet. Have you worked for the Laird before?’ he asked.
‘No, actually. This is the first time for me, but he seems great.’ Deb opened the notebook and inspected the pages inside: it was nicely made, with ruled pages and a ribbon bookmark. The type of smooth paper that was a delight to write on. The stationery geek in her wanted to stroke it, but she controlled herself. ‘It’s quite a lavish occasion, by the sounds of things. Perhaps you’ll get an invite.’
‘I very much doubt it.’ Kyle raised an eyebrow, and looked away.
‘Why?’ Deb frowned, remembering that Hal had hinted that there was some kind of undercurrent of difficulty between him and Kyle.What was the issue, she wondered?
‘Oh, you know. This and that,’ he said, evasively. ‘I’m guessing I’d get one if I was extra nice to you, though.’ He smiled, suddenly. Was he flirting with her?
‘Haha. The Laird is in charge of the guest list. So, you really would be better off being nice to him.’
‘Hmm. I was thinking of asking you out to dinner. To charm my way onto it.’ He gave her an unreadable glance. ‘I’d rather have dinner with you than Hal Cameron. You’re much prettier.’
‘Errr… well, I…’ Deb felt herself blushing, not knowing how to respond.
‘What about if I just wanted your company?’ He put the book he was holding down on the table and faced her. ‘And to apologise for my rudeness on the first time we met?’
‘Oh,’ Deb prevaricated. ‘Really? I’m not sure if that would be a good idea.’ Mostly, she was thinking about how unpopularKyle was in the village. Not that she owed the crochet coven her unwavering loyalty, but, still. She was aware of it.
‘You can say no. Sorry, I just thought…’ he trailed off. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.’
‘No! I’m not,’ she said, quickly. ‘I’m just… not used to being asked out.’ It wasn’t a lie – shewasn’tused to it. But there was also a voice in her head that was saying,do you really want to go out with the least popular man in Loch Cameron?
‘I can’t believe that,’ he chuckled. ‘You’re gorgeous.’
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled. ‘I just… ummm… ugh. That makes me feel really uncomfortable.’ She laughed, uncomfortably. She didn’t want to explain about the operation, and how she hadn’t felt attractive for years because of the endometriosis.
‘Well, the offer stands.’ He reached into his pocket and handed her a business card. ‘I know it’s very 80s, but what can I say. I’m a retro kinda guy.’ He flashed her that smile again and her stomach did a little somersault.
‘What?’ She looked at the business card, aware that her heart was beating faster than usual and she was having trouble focusing on what Kyle was saying.
What was happening? She had no idea. All she knew was that, in his presence, she felt like a hot mess. Was she ill? Perhaps she was coming down with something. Surreptitiously, she put her hand on her forehead to check for a temperature. It felt normal.
‘Business cards. I know no one uses them anymore, but I like ‘em.’ He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, slightly awkwardly. ‘Anyway. Good to meet you properly, Deb. Short for Deborah, I take it?’
‘Yes. My mum’s the only one who calls me Deborah.’ She cleared her throat and tried to focus.
