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The Perfect Moment

Page 15

by Alix Kelso


  “What are you ...? I wasn’t staring at her.”

  “Yes, you were,” Jimmy Pearson chimed in. “I’m surprised Wee Blondie can’t feel the force of your laser gaze from across the street.”

  “If it was any more intense, you’d burn a hole in the wall,” Big Kev said, chortling.

  “Ignore these two.” Keith waved a hand dismissively. “But if you like that lovely wee Laura, you need to tell her.”

  “I’m just wondering how she’s feeling after being ill.”

  “So, go over and ask her.”

  “She’s busy, look.” Bruce gestured to the window. “It’s packed over there this evening.”

  “Then wait until closing time.”

  “She’ll be exhausted after her shift.”

  “She came in here earlier looking for you,” Keith said, picking up one of his new bottles of whisky and admiring it.

  “She did?” Bruce turned from the window.

  “Seemed a bit disappointed when I said you were out for the day.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Disappointed.”

  “Definitely disappointed,” Jimmy Pearson said.

  “Aye, that’s the word,” said Big Kev. “Dis-app-ointed.”

  “Shut up, you two.” Keith walked over, and clapped his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Son, if you’re waiting for the perfect moment to go and talk to her, let me save you some trouble and tell you there’s no such thing.”

  But Bruce only sighed as he watched Laura over in Valentino’s, delivering a tray of drinks. When she disappeared from sight, he turned back to serve a punter at the bar.

  And as the evening wore on, he realised that Keith was right. He probably should go over there and speak to her. They’d exchanged messages since she’d been ill, but that wasn’t enough and he knew it.

  Although they’d spent that long rainy Sunday together while Laura had been ill, the fact remained that the last time he’d seen her before that, he’d been doing the hundred-metre sprint down her tenement stairs.

  And then he’d ignored her for a week.

  That had to be dealt with. He couldn’t act like he hadn’t done those things, couldn’t act like he expected her to forget he’d stood there in her kitchen, almost kissing her before legging it out the door.

  He ought to go over once Valentino’s closed, as his uncle had advised. Tell her how happy he was to see her up and about again. Tell her he was sorry he’d acted like an idiot before. Tell her he was sorry he hadn’t kissed her that day in her kitchen.

  But he couldn’t say that. If he said he was sorry he hadn’t kissed her, didn’t it imply that he wanted to kiss her now?

  Did he want to kiss her now?

  Of course he wanted to kiss her! He wanted to kiss her so badly it almost hurt to think about it.

  So why was he tying himself up in knots with these stupid debates inside his head? Why was he over-thinking everything? Looking for every possible way in which doing anything – anything at all – might cause him to make a wrong move? Why was he letting his head rule his heart?

  The answer was obvious. The last time he’d listened to his heart instead of his head, he’d ended up married to Heather.

  No, that wasn’t fair. He’d been happy with Heather for a long time, and she’d been happy with him, as far as he could tell. There’d been no way of knowing how things would end, no way of knowing that things even would end. Sure, they’d had their differences, but those hadn’t been differences that would automatically condemn a marriage to failure. What Heather had done – the affair, and the terrible revelation that had come with it – could never have been anticipated.

  Could it?

  And now, he realised, he was still playing pointless mind games with himself.

  A flicker of movement across the street caught his eye as he cleared empty glasses from a table. Looking up, he saw the window blinds being pulled down in Valentino’s.

  They were getting ready to close.

  Bruce stood, staring. He should go over there. He should catch Laura while it was quiet, before she went home. He should tell her ... what?

  But he already knew. Had known from the first moment he’d set eyes on her.

  Yet the idea was absurd, ridiculous, terrifying ...

  He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned as Keith removed the empty glasses from his hand.

  “Go,” Keith told him.

  And he did.

  Chapter 12

  Laura cleared the last table in Valentino’s, set it with fresh silverware and napkins, and made sure everything looked smart and neat. Pleased, she looked around the empty restaurant.

  She loved these times, just before or after service, when the place was quiet and lovely and she was alone. Tanya and her kitchen crew and the rest of the waiting staff had already gone home. Laura had volunteered to lock up once the last of the customers had departed, and she’d taken her time about it. Once Valentino’s was sold, there might not be any more moments like these, after new owners arrived and began doing things their own way.

  So she savoured the space while she still could. Music played quietly, tonight’s choice a playlist of the old easy-listening love songs that Angelo had always enjoyed. The lights were low and candles still burned on the tables. The restaurant looked pretty and romantic in candlelight. So pretty and romantic, in fact, that Laura could hardly bring herself to blow them out.

  A knock came at the door. With the blinds pulled down, she couldn’t see who was out there. Not that it mattered. The restaurant was done for the night.

  “We’re closed,” she called out.

  “It’s Bruce. Can I come in for a minute?”

  She felt a tiny flutter in her stomach as she walked over, turned the heavy lock, and opened the door to find him standing there, smiling.

  “I wanted to see you before you went home,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. Natalie made me take a few days off, but I’m glad to be back.”

  “You’re not too tired after your shift?”

  “I’m fine, I feel fine.”

  “Good, that’s good.” He thrust his hands in his pockets and shifted his feet. “Listen, could I maybe come in, just for a minute?”

  “Oh, sure.” She opened the door wider to let him step through and locked it again. “I want to thank you for being so sweet on Sunday. You stayed when you didn’t have to, and that meant a lot.”

  “I wouldn’t have left you, given the state you were in.”

  She felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, I was in a state. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You were sick.”

  “No, I mean ... I’m sorry for getting upset about the nightmare, and about—”

  But he held up his hands. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for Laura.”

  She fidgeted for a second. “Well, anyway ...”

  A long beat passed. The candles flickered on the tables. Frank Sinatra sang something softly into the quiet of the night.

  And Bruce held her gaze, kept her pinned with those eyes that made her quiver inside. Quite how many seconds passed before she finally looked away she didn’t know.

  “It’s late, and I need to lock up and—”

  “I’m sorry I ran off that day, after the food festival,” he said quickly, before taking a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have disappeared like that. We had a perfect afternoon together, and running off at the end of it wasn’t what I’d been planning.”

  She studied him. “What had you been planning?”

  “This.”

  He moved in, pulled her close and laid his lips on hers. The sudden sensation of it sent shivers across her skin as his hands glided around her waist and over her hips.

  Then the kiss was all she knew.

  His lips moved over hers, wild and tender at the same time. The kiss turned her inside out and made every nerve ending sing. She ran her hands over his arms, over his shoulders, feeling the streng
th that lay there, the strength he used to hold her close.

  When he finally stopped kissing her, she thought she saw fireworks detonating above their heads.

  “Wow,” was all she managed to say.

  Everything shimmered, as if the softly lit restaurant had been draped in delicate silver gossamer. The candles still flickered. The love song still played. But all she could think about was Bruce, standing before her, and the way he looked at her.

  Now she was the one who moved forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close until his kiss was once more wrapped around her. He pushed her back against the bar counter, and when his mouth hit the sweet spot behind her ear, she thought she might’ve become a puddle on the floor but for him holding her up.

  It was like no kiss she’d ever had in her life. It was like no kiss she thought could exist in this world.

  Then the kiss moved from blind passion to gentle caress, which was a new kind of wonderful. He kissed her forehead and tilted her face towards his.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said.

  “How long?”

  “Since the first moment I saw you. It just took me a while to realise it.” He kissed her lips and the tip of her nose. “I want you.”

  Her surprised gasp escaped before she could stop it, and he laughed softly.

  “What I mean is I want to take you to dinner.”

  She threw him a glance. “You don’t want me?”

  “Oh, I want you. But I think I ought to buy you dinner first.”

  Laughing, she let him pull her even closer.

  “So, can I take you out?”

  “Sure, if you promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “That afterwards you’ll kiss me again the way you just did.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  As he once more found that sweet spot on her neck, she sighed. If there were still brains inside her head, they’d turned to mush.

  “How about Friday?”

  “I’m working Friday night while Natalie goes out with your Uncle Keith.”

  “Damn, I knew we should never have set up those two.”

  She laughed. “Saturday?”

  “Saturday it is.” He stepped back and studied her. “You said that on the last date you had with what’s-his-face, he told you to get dressed up for a big night out, and he ended up buying you pizza. Get dressed up for our date. You won’t regret it. I’ll treat you right.”

  “I don’t expect anything fancy.”

  “Get dressed up anyway. It’s our first date, and it’s going to be special.” He laid his hands gently on either side of her head and kissed her once more. “Want me to walk you home once you’re finished here?”

  “I think I can manage.”

  They said goodbye at the door with another kiss that left her breathless. When he was gone, she collapsed against the bar counter, her lips bruised and tingling and her heart thundering in her chest. At some point the music had stopped playing, but she couldn’t have said exactly when.

  She blew out the last of the candles still burning on the tables, locked up Valentino’s, and all but floated home.

  Chapter 13

  The whisky distillery sat on the north shore of the River Clyde, and Keith had bagged the best spot from which he and Natalie could enjoy the view. There were two trios of whisky samplers set out on the table, the evening had turned the sky outside the huge bank of windows a pretty shade of blue, and Keith was as happy and content as he could ever imagine being.

  “Here, try this one,” he told Natalie, pushing a whisky glass in her direction. “This might be more to your liking.”

  Her expression was unconvinced. She’d already sampled two whiskies and hadn’t enjoyed them. But he was pleased she appeared to be giving this third measure a fair chance.

  As soon as it hit her tongue, she shook her head. “It tastes exactly the same as the last one.”

  He laughed. “That’s impossible. The last one was an Islay malt, heavily peated, very distinctive flavour. This is a Speyside, aged in sherry casks, quite different.”

  “If you say so.”

  “There’s some work to do yet to develop your palette.”

  “I think I’ll keep my palette as it is and stick to wine. Do they have wine here?”

  “I’m sure they do. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  He headed to the little tasting station, inquired about wine, and a glass of red was soon produced. He’d hoped Natalie would enjoy this trip to the whisky tasting at the distillery. She’d been so helpful when she’d come to take a glance at the whisky menu he’d drafted for The Crooked Thistle, and had given him so many good ideas about how to describe the new whiskies he’d be selling, that he couldn’t help but think she would love actually sampling them too.

  Clearly, though, Scotch was not her thing.

  She had told him as much, in fairness, when he’d suggested this little jaunt. All she’d done, she explained, was take the whisky descriptions Keith had already written and spiced them up. That didn’t mean she liked whisky.

  But, convinced of his own wisdom, he’d set out to convert her. And had failed.

  Still, as he carried her wine to the table, she was smiling and looked happy enough enjoying the river view while picking at the little plate of Scottish antipasti they’d ordered.

  The evening was not a total bust.

  “Here,” he said, setting the wine before her. “Get a good glug of that down you. I’ve got six whiskies to drink by myself now, so you’ll have to keep up with me.”

  “I can assure you, my days of keeping up with anyone in the drinking department are long behind me.”

  Spearing a thin slice of venison, he laughed. “I do enjoy myself when I’m with you, Natalie. I haven’t had as much fun with a woman in very a long time.”

  “Keith, you deserve nothing but happiness, in love and in life generally. You simply have to stop searching for it in all the wrong places.”

  “Maybe that’s something I’ve realised, since we started seeing one another.”

  Natalie said nothing and looked away as she topped an oatcake with smoked salmon. Watching her carefully, he swirled his Scotch, the amber liquid catching the light. He didn’t want to scare her off. This was just supposed to be a couple of old friends enjoying one another, no more, no less. If he pushed it too hard, he’d blow it.

  A change in conversational direction was required.

  “I suppose you’ve heard the good news about Laura and Bruce? They’re off out to dinner together tomorrow night.”

  Natalie smiled. “Yes, it’s wonderful. I don’t think she was keen on that other boy she was seeing, although she may have been trying to convince herself otherwise. My gut tells me that Bruce might be a far better match for her.”

  “He’s had his cap set in her direction since he came to live with me. The first time she came into the pub, he was as good as struck deaf and dumb. Not that he realised it at the time.”

  “I’m glad they’ve decided to give things a go. Laura needs a push in life, and I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt for your Bruce to be reminded that he is an attractive young man who deserves another chance at love.”

  “You think it might be love?”

  She grinned over the edge of her wine glass. “I’ve seen with my own eyes how lit up Laura’s been these past few days. And I like to be an optimist, where important matters such as love are concerned.”

  “I hope things take a turn for the better for the boy. They’d make a nice pair, Bruce and Laura. And, had it not been for them meddling in our lives, maybe they wouldn’t have got together at all. So, cheers to them, and cheers to us, too.”

  They clinked glasses. Outside, a pleasure cruiser passed on the river, its deck lights lit up. He watched Natalie as she sipped her wine. She looked wonderful tonight, with the coppery glint of the whisky still exhibit that dominated the space highlighting the burnished tones in her hair and the deep ambe
r of her eyes.

  “How’s the restaurant sale going? Any interested parties yet?”

  She wiped her fingers on a napkin and shrugged. “We had several people come around this week, but I don’t think they’re likely buyers. One of them wasn’t even in the restaurant business. I gave the agent a telling off about that, believe me. I only plan to sell to someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  “There’s a lot of history in Valentino’s. I can understand why you want to make sure the right people buy it. You know, I wondered if you might be upset that your kids won’t be taking over.”

  She waved a hand. “Angelo and I raised them to make their own choices in life. They both have wonderful careers and were never even slightly interested in running the restaurant. Angelo was different – he loved working there with his father and, when he was younger, his grandfather. Three generations running a family business is quite something, but we realised when the kids were teenagers that it would end with us. We gave them jobs in the restaurant so they could earn a little money for themselves and see how things were run, but although they worked hard, their interest ended when their shifts did. I’m glad they’ve made their own lives, on their own terms.”

  She sipped her wine and gazed out at the river, where dusk was falling fast, before turning back to Keith and grinning. “And now it’s my turn to live my life on my own terms too. I don’t regret a moment I spent at Valentino’s with Angelo. But now that the decision to sell is made and is in motion, I’m excited about what will come next. I want to see if there’s still something new for me, out there in the world.”

  Keith smiled. “You have a wonderful spirit, Natalie.”

  “No matter how amazing the past has been, we have to believe that the future will be even better. Or else what’s the point in living?”

  “That’s a nice way of thinking.”

  “It’s the only way of thinking.”

  “Hey, you’re speaking to a man with three failed marriages behind him and a string of broken hearts long enough to loop around the moon and back. It’s hard to see how my future can be better when I keep making the same mistake over and over again.”

 

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