“What if we need the tables for actual customers?” Charlie’s question was rewarded by a look from Magda that said, yes, business was getting better, but it wasn’t that good. Mia tried not to echo it too loudly.
Charlie sighed. “Come on then. Let’s move some cake.”
Once the cake was rehoused, and Magda had headed home for the night–or to Joe’s; she hadn’t been very clear on that point–Charlie turned to Mia, looking more tired than she thought she’d ever seen him, and said, “Are you hungry?”
She was, but Mia figured it was a bit rude to ask for manual labor and food. “Actually, I came to ask you a favor.” Charlie sank into a chair at a window table, nearest the bar, with a despairing look on his face, so Mia added, “Let me get you a drink first.”
“Just tell me,” Charlie called to her as she poured their wine. “Does it involve any vanilla essence? Because if it does...”
Mia looked at him, head tipped back against the chair, flour still dulling patches of his hair, his eyes closed and his white shirt wrinkled and stained with cocoa powder, and thought, This is it for me. Damn.
Because as much as she might want to deny it, she was irrevocably in love with Charlie Frost.
Now she just had to convince him to feel the same.
But not before she talked him into folding five hundred programs while she stapled them in place. Mia tipped the last of the wine into their large glasses and headed over to the table, saying, “So, there was a small mix up with the printers...”
Two hundred odd programs later, Charlie asked, “Why do we need programs, anyway?”
“So we can charge people a quid to come in,” Mia said. “Beside, they’re all numbered and ready for the special raffle.”
“Raffle?”
“Yes.” Mia stuck out her tongue and concentrated on stapling the spine of the program, rather than the paper to the left or right. She was getting tired and her accuracy was suffering. “You donated a free dinner for two at StarFish.”
“Did I?” Charlie handed her another folded program to staple. “Including wine?”
“One bottle of the house.”
“That was nice of me.”
“I thought so.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Mia was just starting to get a rhythm going when Charlie asked, “Have you spoken with your dad this week?”
“Not since he showed up with a conspicuous amount of money.” Mia looked up from her stapler. “You know where he got it, don’t you?” Charlie nodded. “Will I like it?”
“Hard to say.”
“Try.”
Charlie watched her for a long moment, until Mia felt herself starting to squirm under his gaze. Then he said, “He sold A to Z Jones’s journal.”
“Oh.”
Mia turned her attention to the program in her hand, but she could still feel Charlie’s gaze on her skin. Pressing down on the stapler, it wasn’t until she tried to lift the program that she realized she’d stapled it to her cardigan.
Charlie reached over and helped her open the staple and free herself, his hands perilously close to her breasts. Mia could feel the heat of a blush rising up her chest when Charlie asked, “So, do you trust him a little more now?”
“Can we talk about something easier?” Mia re-stapled the program and added it to the pile, already reaching for the next one.
“Like the fact you kissed me the other night?”
Mia winced. Fine. If those were the options... “I don’t think he’s going to ruin the festival, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you don’t trust him?”
“Would you?” Mia sighed, and put down her program. “Look, he left me, humiliated and ashamed when I was fourteen years old. It’s going to take more than one expensive gesture to fix.”
“He’s broke,” Charlie said, his tone neutral and, hard as she tried, Mia couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. “He gave you everything he had.”
Mia paused, wondering how she could make him understand. “Have you seen him? In the last few days?”
A small line appeared between Charlie’s eyebrows. “Actually, no. Not since...”
“Not since his grand gesture,” Mia confirmed. “Exactly.”
Charlie was quiet for a long moment, and Mia went back to her programs, relieved to have made it through the conversation intact and grateful they no longer needed her father to come up with something spectacular to entertain the kids: Enid Jones had coerced a friend into donating the use of their inflatable rides–a slide, a bouncy castle, and something called a Bungee Run that Mia was a bit leery of.
She was just wondering if she could convince Charlie to try out the Bungee Run when he said, “I still want to ask about the kiss, you know.”
“Of course you do.” Mia sighed. “I’m sorry, it was just a spur of the moment, celebratory thing. I mean, I just–”
Charlie leaned forward so fast she didn’t have time to move away even if she’d wanted to, which she didn’t, and before she could even take a breath his lips were on hers, warm and insistent and oh so perfect.
Mia shifted forward in her chair, eager to be closer, and Charlie brought his palm up and rested it against the back of her neck as he pulled her into him. Her eyes fluttered open to take in his face, and she saw his brow furrowed in concentration, his eyelashes resting against his cheek, his hair curling against his forehead, and knew again that she loved him.
But before she could shut her eyes again and return to the moment, a flash of movement in the window caught her attention and, without thinking, she pulled away.
“What is it?” he asked, his lips just a few millimeters away from hers. Then he followed her gaze toward the window and said, “Becky.”
Chapter 17
Becky looked around her at Main Street, suddenly awash in baskets of bunting and ladders. Welsh flags were flying from some of the buildings, the fierce red dragon gazing down at them, challenging them. One more day, they seemed to say. Last chance.
Her mouth tightened, and she turned back to Tony and their guest.
“Jolly little place, isn’t it,” Harry Golding said, standing with his hands on his hips, staring toward the town square. Then he rubbed his hands together and asked, “Where’s the site?”
“Just along here.” Tony waved him on ahead, and Becky trailed along behind the men.
“So what’re all the flags about?” Harry asked, and Becky realized, too late now, that Tony hadn’t told him. He hadn’t told their main investor there was a possibility the casino wouldn’t go ahead at all. Becky bit her lip and tried to ignore the feeling that everything she had ever worked for was collapsing around them.
“Oh, just a village fete they’re having here tomorrow,” Tony answered, unconcerned. “Shame, really, the weather forecast says rain.”
They stepped around a ladder–why risk any more bad luck–and when Becky looked up, she saw Mia at the top, glaring down at them. Becky couldn’t think what she had to be cross about. She wasn’t the one who’d seen the love of her life kissing another woman the night before.
It had been odd, watching Mia and Charlie kiss through the restaurant window. Almost unreal. Like watching a couple in a film. Two people she felt a vague connection with but wouldn’t remember later.
Shouldn’t she care more? Shouldn’t it hurt and burn and kill?
Becky glanced over at Tony and bit the inside of her cheek. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t love Charlie any more than he loved her. Maybe she was meant to be alone, forging her own way in the world. That felt strong and right.
Tony caught her gaze and she looked away quickly, hating the blush she felt rising in her cheek.
Much better off alone.
Concentrating on where she was going instead, Becky jumped sideways at the last moment to avoid stepping into a bucket of bunting. “Careful there,” somebody called out, and Becky hurried on, thankful Charlie wasn’t there to make things even worse. Maybe she didn’t
love him. But that didn’t mean seeing him with Mia wasn’t humiliating.
She caught up with Tony and Harry before they reached the Coliseum Cinema, just in time to hear the tail end of a totally fictitious story Tony was telling about an encounter in the Crooked Fox.
“So, I said,” Tony went on, already laughing at his own joke, “I said–”
Harry wasn’t laughing. “And I suppose this is for the festival as well.”
Becky stared at the cinema, rather than Harry’s accusing face. The outside walls had been covered with vintage film posters, and the smell of fresh popcorn was already starting to waft out through the freshly repainted yellow doors.
“One last hoorah,” Tony said, his voice much calmer than Becky thought she could have managed. “You know, before it closes for good. Couldn’t deny them that, now, could we?”
“You know, I’ve always been a big fan of classic cinema,” Harry said in a tone Becky didn’t entirely believe. He pointed to a festival flyer prominently stuck on the cinema’s front door. “Maybe I’ll stick around for this Fish and Film festival. See the old place out in style.” He turned to Tony. “And then you can show me the signed contracts from the owner.”
Becky watched as their main source of income walked away toward the town square and Mia bloody Page and her bloody bunting, and wondered why she’d ever thought coming back to Aberarian was a good idea in the first place.
* * * *
“More bunting,” Charlie said, depositing a new bucket at the foot of her ladder.
Mia glanced down and smiled at him, enjoying the way his pale blue t-shirt stretched over his shoulders. “Thanks,” she said, and he grinned up at her, shading his eyes to watch her hang the next strand.
He held the ladder steady for her to climb down, and she jumped the last step just so she could land directly in front of him, ready to be kissed.
But Charlie’s grin was already slipping. “Listen...”
Mia felt a cold shadow brush against her heart. “If this is about last night–”
“No!” Charlie grabbed her upper arms, and Mia stopped twisting the next strand of bunting around her fingers. “It’s just... Have you seen the weather forecast?”
Her good mood ruined, Mia stepped away. “I don’t need to. Everybody who’s come through here this morning has already reported it to me. ‘Rain tonight, showers tomorrow.’ Even Tony took a moment out of his busy day to shout it up at me. It’s not the end of the world.”
“What about setting up tonight?” Charlie hefted the ladder, and helped her move it to the next spot. “Are we going to have to wait until morning?”
“There’s a lot we couldn’t do tonight anyway,” Mia said, testing her foot against the bottom rung. “But the big stalls are all waterproof shells, so they can go up now anyway. We’ll just hold off setting up the electrics until very early tomorrow morning.”
“Do you want me to go up and hang that for you?” Charlie asked, looking apologetic.
Mia shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Climbing up, she heard The Very Reverend Dafydd Davies call out from below her, and glanced down to see him standing beside Charlie, a worried expression on his face.
“I just wanted to let you know,” he said, one hand cupped unnecessarily around his mouth–she was only ten feet off the ground, after all. “I’ve called an emergency prayer meeting at the church for this afternoon. See if we can’t get some intervention in this weather business.”
“That’s great, Reverend,” she called back, but her attention was on the Coliseum in the distance, where she could see Tony and Becky and another man in a suit eyeing the building hungrily.
There was still more than weather to worry about.
* * * *
“This is starting to look like more than a shower,” Mia said, peering out of the A to Z shop window at the ugly black skies.
“Is it raining yet?” Ditsy asked, tugging her coat on. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you keep me here folding raffle tickets.”
“Public service,” Mia reminded her. “You weren’t doing it for me, you were doing it for Aberarian.”
“Yes, but if I catch a cold getting soaked to the skin on my way home, I’m blaming you, not the town.”
“Fair enough.” Mia took another look at the clouds. “It’s not started yet. You should beat the rain home, if you hurry.”
“Good.” Ditsy hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder.
“Wait a sec.” Mia darted behind the counter and grabbed an umbrella from the rack. “You should take this.”
“Excellent plan.” Ditsy held out a hand for the brolly, but something made Mia keep it clutched to her side. “Although the plan does require you to actually give it to me.”
“Ditsy...” Mia said, trailing off.
The older woman dropped her bag to the floor and started to unbutton her coat. “If it starts to rain, I’m staying in the flat. And you can have the sofa.”
“Sorry. No. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Ditsy said with fake patience. “So tell me.”
“Do you... Do you think I’m wrong to wait? With Charlie?” Mia closed her eyes while she waited for an answer. When one wasn’t forthcoming, she peeked out and saw Ditsy watching her, an assessing look on her face.
“I think,” Ditsy said finally, “life is a lot shorter than we think. And sometimes you can wait too long. A little anticipation never hurt anybody, but too much...” She shrugged. “Besides. You have to make the most of every day we have in this world. Why wait for happiness to come to you? Why not reach out and grab it?”
“That was under H in the book, wasn’t it?” Mia said.
“I’m paraphrasing.” Ditsy buttoned her coat again and held out a hand for the umbrella. “Now, I’m going to go and attempt to outrun the rain, which is not easy when you get to my age.” She gave Mia a gentle smile. “Much harder than telling Charlie Frost you’re in love with him.”
Mia handed over the umbrella and wondered what she’d have done without Ditsy in her life. “Thanks, Ditsy.”
“Just don’t screw it up,” Ditsy said, and then she was gone, out into the gathering storm.
Mia locked up in record time, and ten minutes later she was tugging her jacket tighter around her, watching the carefully hung bunting down Main Street flutter manically in the wind. Any moment now, the promised rain would start, and she was going to get soaked to the skin. She eyed the blackened sky with suspicion. As long as the rain was the worst of it.
Battling against the growing wind and just waiting to feel the first raindrops before the deluge against her skin, Mia made her way along Main Street, in the direction of StarFish, and thought that she wouldn’t be doing this for anyone else.
But Charlie had asked her a perfectly reasonable question the night before. And she thought she might finally be able to answer it.
Once she found the right words.
Pausing outside, she leaned against the wall of the restaurant, out of sight of the windows. With the wind buffeting her against the brick, she wished she’d thought about this before she left the warmth of the A to Z shop. How was she supposed to tell a man she loved him? Especially when she wasn’t sure he felt the same. It couldn’t be as easy as the movies made it look, could it?
Then the rain started to fall, and Mia decided she’d just have to wing it after all. Dashing through the raindrops, she headed for the comforting lights of StarFish.
The restaurant was dark inside, it seemed, but when she looked closer she saw a couple of diners, faces lit only by the glow of candlelight. Magda was reading them the specials when Mia went in, and she made out the bulky figure of Tony standing in the kitchen doorway looking in, so she assumed Charlie was cooking.
She edged closer, eager to take the last few seconds of no one knowing she was there to compose herself for what she’d come to do. Maybe she should wait until he was away from naked flames...
Charlie’s voice rumbled out from b
ehind the kitchen doors. It was nearly time. She’d reached the bar now, without Tony turning and seeing her, and she wondered what the etiquette for this was. Should she wait until Tony had finished? Should she take a seat at the bar?
“It’s a good offer, Charlie,” Tony said. Mia gave up her token moral resistance and listened in. “We’d be partners. You’d have someone to share the financial risk with. I’ll find someone to run this place, you head down to London and set up the next restaurant in the chain. You sell me the cottage as part of the deal.” The rain on her skin turned to ice, and Mia felt her heart freeze and crack. He’s going to leave me. She’d waited too long. What good was ready now, anyway?
“It’s a good offer,” Tony repeated, and Mia knew he was telling the truth. It was a great opportunity for Charlie. It was what he needed.
He’d be a fool not to take it.
Charlie’s response was muffled by the kitchen doors. Mia couldn’t bear to wait and hear him say yes to her face. This was Charlie’s future, his decision. She couldn’t interfere.
Besides, even if he was idiotic enough to say no, she’d have talk him out of it. She loved him, and she wanted what was best for him. And if Mia couldn’t make a roaring success of this festival, what was best for him wasn’t going to be Aberarian.
Silently as she’d arrived, Mia slipped out into the stormy night, alone.
* * * *
“It’s a good offer,” Tony repeated, and Charlie knew he was telling the truth. It was a great opportunity for him, for StarFish, even for Magda and Kevin. It was what he needed to move StarFish onward, to shore up the business, to keep everyone from bankruptcy.
He’d be a fool not to take it.
The spitting oil from the pan stung Charlie’s skin and he thought, But how can I leave here? Knowing full well he meant, How can I leave Mia?
“Why would you want to do that?” Charlie asked. Tony looked over from where he’d been glancing into the restaurant itself, and raised his hands, palms upward, toward him.
“I’ll be perfectly candid with you,” he said. “It’s because of Becky.”
An A to Z of Love Page 18
