‘Couldn’t drag your mother out of the kitchen yesterday morning,’ her dad had grumbled as he’d helped her load up.
‘The mash concoctions are probably edible, but since when has Mum believed she can bake?’
He’d given Mia a long-suffering smile. ‘Since you decided to up sticks to Manchester. She’s worried you aren’t eating properly.’
At which point her mum had joined them. ‘Of course I’m worried. It’s all black pudding and Eccles cakes up there. Our gumdrop needs some proper food inside her.’
There had been no point arguing that by that yardstick, Somerset was all cider and Cheddar cheese. Or that some of what was in the boot could not be given the label ‘proper food’. Not when her mum was on a roll.
Especially not when her dad had whispered, ‘Be grateful. You should see the batches we had to throw away.’
Mia felt a squeeze on heart as she recalled the look on his face, the doting expression beneath the dry humour. He loved her mum because she was a little loopy, a little odd, not in spite of it.
Would anyone ever feel like that about her?
By the time she arrived back at her flat, she was tired, stiff and missing her family already. You’re lonely. The words circled her head, dragging her mood down further.
Unwilling to give in to the dark cloud, she picked up her hold-all and carried it into her bedroom. As she emptied the contents onto the bed, she noticed a flash of white in Luke’s window.
Had he put up another sign?
Heart beating that little bit faster, she abandoned the bag and dashed into the spare room so she could read it properly.
Cute rating 1–10?
She let out a huff of laughter and picked up a pen and paper.
Nephew or ?
To her surprise, there was immediate movement in the window opposite. Glancing at her watch, she realised it was just after eleven o’clock. He must be back from the bar.
Suddenly her heart began to speed up. Had her reply sounded flirty? She didn’t want to send mixed messages.
Nephew
Phew, okay. That she could deal with. Picking up the pen again, she wrote:
11
She was about to turn away, when she saw the flash of paper again, followed by the outline of Luke as he stuck another message up:
Mateo?
Her stomach began to flutter.
8
She held her breath. He wouldn’t, would he? Because if he did, she wasn’t sure how she could answer him…
Stan?
Laughter burst out of her.
Easy 7.
He wasn’t finished, and as Mia waited for his next sign, the flutter returned. She was enjoying this, she realised. As long as…
Final answer?
Smiling, she messaged back.
Final answer.
Part of her wanted him to ask the obvious, but a bigger part was scared he would. This tenuous friendship they’d begun felt too important to ruin with flirty comments.
See U + or - 7 soon?
Her answering smile was as much relief as it was amusement. Hastily she scrawled:
Yes
Quick as a flash he put up another message:
Sweet dreams
She wrote back:
U 2.
And when she crawled into bed, she realised she didn’t feel lonely anymore.
On Wednesday, Mia decided to have a change from her usual lunch – cheese and/or ham sandwich – and see what Naomi had to offer.
The café was busy and Mia had to wait in a queue to be served. ‘Well hello.’ Naomi gave her a broad grin. ‘Here for another coffee?’
‘I’ve come to see what you have to offer on the take-out lunch front.’ She pointed to the bacon, cranberry and brie panini. ‘That’s exactly what I need.’
Naomi scooped it up and slotted it into the toasting machine before leaning across the counter. ‘How’s the hot guy?’ she whispered. ‘The one leaving you messages?’
Mia could feel a blush scald her cheeks. ‘Ah.’
‘Oh Lordy, this sounds good. Come on, confess all.’
‘There’s nothing to confess.’ Mia glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see nobody was queuing. ‘We’ve been messaging a bit.’
Naomi whooped. ‘Wow, girl. And here’s me thinking you didn’t want to encourage him. What made you change your mind?’
‘I’m not … we’re not…’ Mia sucked in a breath. ‘It’s not like that. The messages are just friendly.’
Naomi turned to slide the panini out of the toaster and into a cardboard container. When she handed it over, her eyes were brimming with mischief. ‘But you still think he’s hot.’
Mia glanced down at the box, then up at Naomi. ‘This panini is hot, doesn’t mean I want to date it.’
As Naomi rang up the cost on the till, she chuckled. ‘But you do want to gobble it up.’
Mia raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I want to gobble it up because it’s got bacon in it.’ A diversion was needed. ‘Did Stan come in for his custard donut?’
‘He did that.’ Naomi shook her head. ‘I know what you’re doing, but I’m afraid it won’t work. Nothing’s going to happen between me and Stan. He’s far too shy, and despite appearances, I’m too much of a traditionalist to want to do all the running.’ She winked at Mia. ‘But you’ve got a guy sending you messages by window. If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is. I can’t wait to hear the next instalment.’
Mia walked out laughing, her eyes automatically glancing towards the bar. As if there was some invisible thread between them, Luke, who was rearranging tables outside, chose that moment to look up. A slow, wide smile slid across his face, and her pulse kicked up a gear.
He’s a player, she reminded herself. You don’t need the angst.
Still, his smile was so infectious, she couldn’t help but smile back. Or walk towards him.
‘Hey.’ He straightened, eyes seeming to take an inventory of her face. ‘How’s eleven out of ten?’
‘Jacob’s…’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, I’m a besotted aunt. He’s incredible. All tiny and perfect.’
‘You went to see him?’
‘Of course, what sort of aunt would I be if I deprived him of a cuddle?’
‘A terrible one.’ Luke’s dimples winked on either side of his mouth as he grinned back at her. ‘I hope he realises how lucky he is.’
Warmth surged through her, leaving Mia feeling unbalanced. She didn’t want him flirting with her, and yet … God, she was flattered.
As she was trying to work out how to reply, a dark-haired woman burst out of the restaurant, dashed over to Luke and threw her arms around his neck.
‘Whoa.’ Luke put his hands on her hips, presumably to steady them.
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ the woman said, though it was clear whatever Luke had done, she was fully in favour of it. Then she seemed to become aware of Mia, and as she untangled herself from Luke, she gave Mia a wide-eyed look. ‘Crap, sorry. I didn’t realise I was interrupting.’
‘You’re not.’ Holding up the panini, Mia forced a smile. ‘You’re saving me from having a cold panini.’ With a quick nod to Luke, she headed back to the stairs, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her gut. She didn’t even know what she was disappointed about. That she and Luke had been interrupted? That here was yet another woman treating him with obvious familiarity?
‘Bugger, that was her, wasn’t it?’
Luke looked to where Mia was retreating faster than the profit column in his accounts. He figured there wasn’t much point denying it. Not if his face had registered even half of the curdling frustration he felt. ‘Yep.’
Sandy placed a hand on his upper arm and squeezed. ‘Fuck. I’m a moron.’ When he didn’t say anything, she nudged him. ‘It’s okay, you can agree with me.’
‘You’re a moron.’ He sighed. ‘But let’s hope you’re less of a moron than me, now you’re head of our communications.’
She gave him a sly glance. ‘Does it mean I can ditch the waitressing?’
‘Nope. It means you get the fabulous opportunity to sort out our online presence and be a waitress.’
‘Hence the pay rise.’ It was her turn to sigh. ‘I came out here to thank you for it, because it was a ridiculous but very generous thing to do, considering how tough things are at the moment.’ Her eyes filled with apology. ‘Didn’t realise I’d end up scaring off your crush. Some thank-you gesture, huh?’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘She was already wary, so no biggy. As for the pay rise, if you get more people through the door, you’ll more than earn it.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Hopefully your next employer will have the decency to match the inflated salary.’
Her shoulders sagged. ‘Crap. That assumes he or she will want to employ a mouthy know-it-all.’
Luke laughed. ‘Exactly, so don’t screw this up, for both our sakes.’
‘Gee, thanks boss, no pressure.’ She looked towards the direction Mia had taken. ‘This crush, does she have a name?’
‘Mia. And she’s not a crush. She’s…’ Hell if he knew what she was. Only that he felt drawn to her, somehow. ‘She’s someone I’d like a chance to get to know.’
Sandy frowned, looking up at him. ‘You realise that isn’t what you usually say about women, don’t you? I get Sandy, she’s hot, or she’s game for some fun, or even—’
‘I’ve got it.’ He felt a kick of embarrassment at the stuff he’d probably said. He enjoyed women, yet somewhere along the line he’d chosen to forget where the real joy came from. Instead he’d clung to the surface, the looks, the fun, because it was safer than getting to know the person. Safer than being dragged into deep water and then being spat out, like a riptide.
‘Do you have a phone number for her?’
Sandy’s voice pulled him back into the present. Taking a moment to make sure the old, unwanted memories were locked away, he shook his head. ‘No, why?’
‘Because I want to tell her about your big fat non-crush.’ Alarmed, he opened his mouth to argue and Sandy raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘God, I’m joking. Mateo said something about her maybe being able to help with the website?’
‘Ah, yes, okay.’ As the panic settled, he managed a laugh. ‘I never know with you. Sometimes you’re scary. I don’t know how Jim manages to keep his sanity.’
‘He loves me.’
The words were simple yet it was the certainty behind them that had him envying, not for the first time, what his best friends had. What he’d once wanted, until he’d taken a different path.
‘So, how do I contact her then, this Mia?’ Once again, he was yanked out of the past. ‘Do I need to hang outside Naomi’s and hope she buys another panini?’
It was an excuse to pop another message in the window, yet the thought of using what he saw as a personal, an intimate method of communication, for a work-related reason felt wrong. ‘Leave it with me.’
He wrestled with the thought all day, and when he got back to his flat the first thing he did was walk into the spare room/gym/study/messaging-Mia room and look over at her window.
There was no message. He hadn’t expected one, and it felt absurd that he should be disappointed, yet he was.
Pickles scampered into the room and he bent to pick her up. ‘Sorry love, I forgot to say hello to you first. Pretty unforgivable, huh?’
She pushed her nose under his hand, and he got the unsubtle message and began to stroke her.
‘What do you think I should do, huh? Wait until I bump into her again, or message her?’
He could loiter outside Naomi’s on the off chance she went there most mornings for coffee or lunch, but what if she didn’t?
Yet if he put a note in the window, what could he say? He glanced down at Pickles. ‘What do you reckon she’d say to something along the lines of… Can we meet up and chat about you maybe building me a website but really I just want to talk, you and me, about anything you want. I’d love to see if this connection I feel is real or me going through some approaching mid-life too fast, crisis.’
Pickles twitched her nose.
‘Really? Too long for a window message, huh? Maybe it’s just as well.’ If Mia was wary now, that would bring her blinds down permanently.
Still, maybe he could work with the first part. She’d turned down his offer to meet up before, but hadn’t they established a rapport now?
One you could be about to blow.
Indecision wormed through him, and he hated it. This dithering twat wasn’t him. Sod it. He placed Pickles back on the floor and snatched up a pen. This was no longer about him wanting to chat to her away from the bar, away from interruptions. This was about the bar, and the people who relied on him.
Carefully he sketched out a coffee cup and the words:
Naomi’s
* * *
11 a.m.?
Did it sound too abrupt? Grabbing a second sheet, he added:
On Me
‘There.’ He glanced down at Pickles, who was sniffing at his shoe. ‘Let’s see what tomorrow brings, eh?’
His mobile started to ring, and he glanced at the screen. ‘Big brother keeping an eye on me,’ he muttered as Pickles scampered away, no doubt in search of something more interesting to sniff. And then possibly chew. Internet cables were her preferred choice.
‘No need to worry about me,’ he said in lieu of a greeting. ‘I’m a big boy now. I can sort out my own mess.’
Phil cleared his throat. ‘I’m calling to ask if you want to come over for dinner on your next day off. Janet says it’s been too long since we saw you. And the girls keep asking after you.’
‘Ah.’ Feeling like a batsman who’d been clean bowled, Luke slumped to the floor. ‘Way to make your brother sound like a prick.’
‘Serves him right for being such a sensitive arsehole.’
Luke winced. ‘Sorry. I got a bit defensive there.’
‘Yes.’ A pause, and when Phil came back on, his tone was more sympathetic. ‘But you have your reasons for it.’
Phil had always managed to keep on the right side of their parents, but Luke knew if push came to shove, his brother would stand firmly in his camp.
‘Am I allowed to ask how things are going?’ Phil asked into the silence.
‘Plans are in place; social media, website, local promo. Sandy’s sure she can create a buzz.’
‘And are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ He crossed his fingers like a ten-year-old being caught in a lie by his mum.
‘Great. And how about the girl opposite? Are plans in place there, too?’
Luke glanced at the signs he’d put up. And felt like crossing his damn fingers again, only this time for luck. ‘Ask me again this time tomorrow.’
Chapter Eleven
Mia glanced at the clock on her computer. 10.45 a.m.
She had time to change her mind.
Or did she?
She’d noticed his message in the window when she’d sat at her desk, bleary eyed, at nine this morning. It had done more to kick start her system than coffee ever could. The trouble was, all that adrenalin, instead of being used to enhance her productivity, had been spent working out what to reply. After thirty minutes of furious thinking, she’d come up with:
Okay.
To say no would have been rude, she’d reasoned, and … and … bugger, no point in lying to herself. She wanted to meet him.
At ten o’clock she’d watched him tape a in his window. And yes, she had glanced at him as he’d worked out, but only because that was where her eyes fell when she stopped to think. Working on a mind-numbing website for a courier company, a girl needed all the inspiration she could get.
Then the show had ended, presumably so he could go and shower for their meeting.
She looked back up at the time. 10.58 a.m.
Her heart bounced, and she pushed her chair back. Okay, no big deal. She was going to meet a frie
nd for coffee.
Her mum would be pleased, her sister frigging delighted when she told her who the friend was.
Grabbing her purse – she didn’t need him to buy her coffee – she dashed out of the flat.
Halfway down the stairs, she realised she’d not checked if she had toothpaste/marmalade round her mouth. Or thought to change.
But this was her, and she couldn’t see the point of pretending to be any different. She’d tried once, as a teenager at school, but it had been too exhausting. Instead she’d learnt to smile as they’d called her names – geek, nerd, weirdo – and to use humour to deflect the sting.
She’d also, eventually, learnt to be happy with who she was.
Pushing on the door to the café, she noticed Luke was already there, his back to her as he stood chatting to Naomi at the counter. Somehow he looked even bigger today, his wide shoulders encased in a white T-shirt, long legs in jeans that fitted nice and snug over a very neat bum.
As a view, it was enough to send her girl hormones buzzing. And that was before he turned and smiled.
Her stomach dipped, and heat flashed through her. It was hardly surprising this guy had women flocking. And if a good time was all a girl wanted, she’d like to bet he’d deliver.
‘Morning, Mia.’ His eyes, all warm and green and twinkling, skimmed over her face before settling on hers.
‘Morning.’ She was glad her voice sounded steady, though the saliva had vanished from her mouth, which was frigging ridiculous. He was crazy good-looking, and charming, and he’d sent her sweet messages from his window, but she didn’t need a flirt in her life.
Mr Right Across the Street Page 8
