‘This calls for a brew.’ He waved his hand towards the beige sofa, complete with stains Mia really didn’t want to think about. Or sit on. ‘Sit yourself down lass, I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘That’s kind, but I am meant to be working.’ And in fifteen minutes, I may want to stare out of my window into the flat opposite.
His smile slipped. ‘Oh, right, not to worry. Another time.’
Don’t look at his sad eyes. Damn it. ‘But I’ve got time for a quick drink.’
His face lit up again, and if she looked past the awful beard and the terrible hair she could see he actually had a good, kind face. One that didn’t deserve to be as lonely as he seemed to be.
While he pottered around in the kitchen, Mia looked out of the window, wondering how different his view was than hers. And maybe also wondering how much he could see into Luke’s flat. Not a lot, it appeared, as the blinds in the opposite room were down. Luke’s bedroom? Swallowing, she shifted her gaze along, and her breath caught when she noticed a new sheet of paper taped to Luke’s second window. Because of the angle, she couldn’t read what it said, but it hadn’t been there last time she’d looked.
‘Checking out the guy opposite, I see.’
Mia gave a guilty start and knew she was blushing. Accepting the mug he offered, she gave a shrug she knew didn’t convince either of them. ‘Just looking at your view.’
‘The lass in the flat before you used to invite her mates round at 10 a.m.’
She nearly choked on the tea. ‘Seriously?’ Then realised she was giving herself away. ‘Umm, what for, exactly?’
Stan chuckled. ‘If you weren’t blushing so hard, I might believe you’ve never watched him take his shirt off, or whatever you girls seem to enjoy.’
Clearing her throat, she took another sip. Strong and stewed, exactly how she didn’t like it. ‘I’m guessing from this angle you can’t see what the fascination is.’
Stan’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Don’t tell me he’s one of those Chipmunks.’
Mia burst out laughing. ‘Sorry?’
‘You know, men who prance about in their underwear.’
‘Ah, Chippendales.’ She had to work hard to get her laughter under control. ‘Sadly no, he only works out with his weights. So I hear,’ she added, totally unbelievably. Then, because she couldn’t stop staring at the window she knew contained another sign for her, she asked, ‘Do you know him?’
‘Sure.’ Stan slurped noisily at his tea.
The guy who’d taken an hour to tell her where the nearest supermarket was, chose now to use one-word replies? ‘That’s all you’re going to give me?’
He slid her a sly smile. ‘What more do you want?’
‘What do you think of him?’
Another chuckle. ‘Doesn’t seem to matter what I think. You’re clearly smitten.’
‘I’m not.’ Then why are you asking about him? ‘I’m not smitten,’ she clarified, ‘just interested. Not in him,’ she added quickly, then realised she was kidding nobody. ‘Okay, maybe a bit in him. He seems to have a large female following.’
‘Aye, there’s no shortage of young women hanging around the bar, that’s for certain.’
‘And?’
Stan shrugged. ‘You’re better off asking some of them. I can tell you he’s worked in the bar and lived opposite for as long as I’ve been here. Friendly bloke. Never had any trouble from him, as far as I know.’ He paused. ‘Rumour has it he’s been through all the single women in this block, mind.’
Mia sighed. ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’
Silence descended and Mia realised the feeling sitting heavy in her gut was disappointment. She’d hoped Stan would tell her she’d got it wrong, that the hot bar owner with the twinkly eyes and the ready smile, wasn’t a player.
Stan looked down at his watch. ‘It’s ten o’clock.’
She smiled. ‘So? Are you kicking me out?’
He grinned, showing he had nearly all his teeth. ‘I can take off my shirt instead, if you like.’ As her eyes rounded in horror, he cackled. ‘Or we could sit down and finish our brew.’
Relieved, she pushed away thoughts of the work she had to do. ‘Let’s do that. And you can tell me about the women hanging round your place.’
For a second his shoulders slumped. ‘Nothing to tell on that score.’ But then a slow smile spread across his face. ‘Though like your barman, I’ve had my moments, over the years.’
It took Luke ten minutes to realise there was something missing with his usual workout routine.
A pair of big blue eyes watching him.
Did it make him vain that he preferred it when he knew Mia was watching? Probably. What he couldn’t work out was why. Sure, he admired her self-assurance, enjoyed the way she could give as good as she got in a conversation, liked, okay really liked the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed, the blue of her eyes, the freckles. And yes, even the green hair. All of it said she was her own person.
That said, he thought about her way too much than was comfortable.
Beside him on the window ledge, his phone pinged.
Hey, I’m in Manchester next week. Fancy catching up? Vicky xx
Automatically he reached to reply:
Sure, Wednesday works.
But his thumb hovered over the send button. Did he want to see Vicky? She was fun, a sales rep he enjoyed hooking up with when she was in town.
So why wasn’t he feeling it this time? Why was he hesitating?
Hastily he deleted his words and messaged instead:
Bar worker to bar owner = big change, little time off. Will have to give it a miss this time. L
He dumped the phone back on the ledge and snatched at the dumb-bell. At this rate he was going to turn into a bloody monk.
While he worked the dumb-bell, he glared at the sign he’d put up this morning for Mia. It was a picture he’d printed off the internet of scattered coffee beans in the shape of an owl, with two mugs of coffee for the eyes. Beneath it he’d scrawled:
Morning.
He’d hoped it would nudge her into putting up a message back. Either the owl wasn’t cute enough, or he wasn’t.
Frustrated with himself, he focused back on his weights. He was trying way too hard on Mia, and not hard enough on the stuff that was important. Like his business.
The week dragged.
On Thursday Sandy caught him looking at his phone and gave him a knowing smirk.
‘Let me guess, Tanya?’
He shoved the phone away. ‘No.’ The message had been from Vicky, double checking he didn’t want to meet up as she was leaving on Friday.
‘Tanya been given the boot, has she?’
‘You tell me, you seem to think you know my love life as well as I do.’
Sandy’s eyebrows flew up. ‘Oooh, a bit tetchy today are we?’
Luke forced himself to take a breath. Sandy was right. They’d had this banter over the women in his life for years, so why was he making such a big deal of it now? ‘Not tetchy at all. Just focusing all my energy on the bar for now.’
That shut her up. ‘Really?’
He nodded, aware he was telling the truth. Owning a bar was very different to working in one and he was coming to realise he had less time now for distractions like Vicky, or Tanya. Or Mia.
He’d already ruined one career opportunity by losing focus, being irresponsible. He couldn’t afford to ruin another. His finances and his self-esteem needed him to make a success of the bar.
Still, when he got home, he couldn’t resist grabbing a sheet of printer paper, writing on it and sticking it in his window.
GNITE
And when he spoke to his brother the following evening after work – Phil was a night owl, like him, so always up for a midnight chat – it seemed he couldn’t stop talking about Mia.
‘You’ve done what?’
‘Put a couple of signs up. Our flats are directly opposite each other, so from the room she works in, she can look into
my spare room. I just … well, said Hi.’ Now he was saying it out loud, it sounded stupid. ‘She’s not messaged me back.’
‘I’m not surprised. Leaving a message in your window, God Luke, it’s … hell, it’s frigging weird, even for you. She probably thinks you’re some sort of stalker.’
Shit. He flushed hot and cold. He hadn’t considered she might be upset by the signs. ‘Seriously? You think it’s creepy?’ He jumped up from the couch and strode down the hall to the spare room. There he stared at the potentially offensive signs. ‘I only said Hi, or Morning. Tonight I wrote Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight like you’re watching her go to bed?’
‘No, damn it, of course not. I can’t see into her bedroom.’ His stomach lurched. Christ, did she really think that he was some sort of pervy peeping Tom? ‘I can only see when she’s right against the window, like when she’s sitting at her desk. That’s the only time I’ve seen her in her flat,’ he added, to reassure himself as much as Phil. Hadn’t he caught her staring at him? Then again, maybe she’d been doing it in a What the hell are you doing looking at me? sort of way.
‘Hey, I believe you.’ Phil, the bastard, sounded amused. ‘Maybe she’s ignoring you because she doesn’t like you, not that she finds you creepy.’
‘Yeah right, not helping.’ Feeling shaky, he knelt down and tore off the sign. That was it, no more acting like a sap.
‘What is it about this Mia that’s got you making such a dork of yourself?’
Luke slumped to the floor, scrunching up the sheet of paper. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s not her, it’s me. Could be an early mid-life crisis, stress over the bar.’ You felt a connection, one you’ve not felt for a long time. ‘Anyway, whatever it was, I’m over it. No more signs, no more distractions. The Bar Beneath has all my attention from now on.’
‘Glad to hear that, because I’ve been going through the books.’
Phil, older by three years, was the responsible, sensible one. The son who got married, became an accountant, produced two grandchildren their parents doted on. Luke knew, by the way his brother hesitated, that what he was about to say was going to be bad news. ‘And?’ he prompted. ‘Whatever you’ve got to say can’t be worse than Mia thinking I’m creepy.’
‘That depends. How wedded are you to keeping your flat? To retaining your staff?’
‘What?’
‘It seems some of the money we thought was in the business, isn’t. The last guy who did the books looks to have been skimming money off the place and now, well, there’s a bloody big hole in the accounts.’
Luke’s stomach lurched. ‘Hit me with it.’
‘Either you remortgage your place, lay someone off, or somehow manage to persuade a lot more customers through your doors, especially during the week.’
‘Fuck.’ Nausea rose inside him and Luke hung his head, his whole body starting to shake. ‘Do you think Bill knew?’
‘No way. I suspect he didn’t take notice of the books, trusted the accountant to do everything.’ Phil hesitated. ‘Might have been an idea to have got me to look through all this before you bought the place.’
‘You think?’ Christ, what a mess. He’d worked in the bar, hell, worked for Bill for ten years, so he’d taken the whole thing on trust. Because you’re an idiot.
After ending the call to his brother, Luke stared out of the window and over to Mia’s. To think, ten minutes ago all he’d had to worry about was trying to get her to message him back.
Now he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to live in his flat. And his dreams of owning something, being someone, seemed as far away as ever.
Chapter Seven
Mia discovered that instead of making her own coffee in the morning, she could buy it from the café downstairs. Of course it meant she had to get dressed, but that was a good discipline and the coffee was worth the effort.
As a bonus, the lady who ran the café was a real hoot.
Naomi, part Caribbean, part Mancunian, part who the Lord knows? – her words – greeted Mia with her signature beaming grin. ‘It’s my favourite green elf.’
‘How many five-foot-two elves do you know?’
Naomi winked. ‘Not as many as I’d like to. Come for your latte?’
‘Yes please.’ She looked around at the empty tables. ‘You’re quiet this morning. What have you done with everyone?’
Naomi chuckled. ‘Have you looked at the time, lady? You’re running early. It’s only five past nine. You’re my first customer.’
Mia stared at the clock on the wall. Wow. Clearly worry, in this case about whether she was being rude, or just plain dumb to ignore Luke’s messages in the window, upset her body clock. If she carried on like this she might actually be at her desk before Immaculate Woman.
‘You all right love?
Mia shook herself. ‘Sorry, yes. Just stuff on my mind.’
Naomi gave her a knowing smile. ‘Boy stuff.’ When Mia opened her mouth to object, she flapped a hand at her. ‘Don’t you go pretending otherwise. I know the look on a woman’s face when she’s thinking about a man.’ She placed a lid over the takeout cup and handed it to Mia. ‘If you tell me the problem, I might be able to help, on account of this.’ She tugged at a strand of silver hair. ‘The grey represents years of experience on the subject. And the wrinkles. Lord, I swear, men are not good for the complexion.’
Naomi had told Mia, on their first meeting, she was sixty-two, yet she looked at least ten years younger. Accepting the coffee, Mia decided she needed a dose of that wisdom. ‘Okay, if you’d met a guy who was really … well, hot, but also funny, you know? And easy to talk to. If you’d met him and liked him, but then found out he was a total player so you turned down his offer to meet up.’ She paused to take in a breath. ‘If he then put some messages in his window that he knew you’d be able to see, what would you do?’
Naomi’s dark brows shot upwards. ‘Heavens to Betsy, this sounds like the plot of a book. What did the notes say?’
‘Nothing really, just greetings. Hi, goodnight.’
The older woman sighed. ‘Damn girl, that’s sweet.’
Mia’s shoulders slumped. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ She sighed, twisting the coffee round in her hands. ‘I haven’t replied. Is that mean?’
‘You said you liked him?’
Mia thought back to that first conversation in the bar, how effortless it had been to banter back and forth with him. ‘Yes.’ But Tanya, Chloe, Helen. ‘I don’t want to date him though. I’ve trusted too easily in the past and been badly let down. The next man I date has to be a good one. This guy, with his sweet talk and easy smile, is more good-time-only.’
Naomi’s deep brown eyes were full of sympathy. ‘Sounds like you’d better steer well clear then, love. Ignore the notes and wait for the right one to come along.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ So why did she feel so disappointed?
‘How’s that neighbour of yours?’
‘Stan’s good. How did you know we were neighbours?’
‘Ah, nothing gets past old Naomi. Of course, it may have helped that he told me he had a new neighbour with green hair.’ She chuckled. ‘He wasn’t quite sure what to make of you at first. A bit of a traditionalist, our Stan, though he’s a sweetheart beneath the bluster. And the bone dry humour.’
Mia eyed Naomi speculatively. ‘Is he a regular here?’
‘He comes from time to time.’ She nodded towards the highly calorific cakes and buns. ‘Can’t resist a custard donut. Tell him I’ve got some in especially for him.’
Mia had a feeling Stan was more than just a customer to Naomi. ‘I will.’ She took a sip of the coffee, savouring the flavour. ‘Well, I guess I’d better get some work done. Thanks for the coffee.’ She smiled. ‘And for the advice.’
‘Anytime time, love. I’m here for both.’ She chuckled. ‘And I only charge for the coffee.’
Laughing, Mia opened the door. And almost careered into the next customer.
Tall, built like a brick wall.
Smelling like shower gel, citrus and man.
‘Hey.’
Her heart bounced. She’d know the voice anywhere. Deep, low and smooth with a soft Manchester accent. ‘Hi.’ Feeling awkward, she glanced down at her take-out cup. ‘Just getting my caffeine fix.’
‘Me too.’ He smiled, dimples flashing either side of his mouth. But then a guard came down over his face. ‘Err, do you have a minute?’
‘Yes, sure. I should be working though, so…’
‘It won’t take long.’ He glanced back to the bar, but then seemed to change his mind about asking her over. Instead he took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. It was a restless, awkward gesture for a man Mia had only seen as relaxed and confident. ‘I just wanted to apologise.’
Mia frowned. ‘For?’
His eyes met hers. She’d seen them glint with humour, blaze with confidence. Now they seemed unsure. ‘The notes to you in my window. I thought I was being … hell, I don’t know, cute I guess.’ He gave her an embarrassed look. ‘That sounds cocky, but what I’m trying to say is I didn’t mean any harm by them. Quite the opposite.’ His huge shoulders lifted and fell as he sighed. ‘It was pointed out to me last night that rather than being charming, I was in fact coming across as a total creeper.’ A shudder ran through him. ‘Christ, the thought that I might have upset you—’
‘You didn’t.’
He stilled, those brilliant green eyes searching hers. ‘No?’
‘Definitely not.’
He exhaled a long, deep breath. ‘Okay. Good.’
Quiet descended and Mia struggled with how to fill it. She felt awful knowing her lack of response had made him think she’d been offended by his messages. Before she could say anything though, he was speaking again.
‘I’d better let you get back to work.’ He glanced into the coffee shop and gave Naomi a wave.
‘I don’t usually see you up and about so early.’ Not before 10 a.m. Mia cringed, wondering how much she’d given away. Here he was, apologising for acting like a creeper with his notes, when she was the one who couldn’t stop staring into his spare room every morning.
Mr Right Across the Street Page 5
