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Thinking about Zap sulking in his little office tucked behind the main distillery tanks, Hope rather doubted it. She decided it was probably best to keep that to herself, though, and opted for a diplomatic answer. ‘Thank you, we do our best.’ With a quick smile at the woman, Hope hurried away before she could get herself into any more trouble.
The café was busy, but it wasn’t hard to pick out Cam. Even seated, he was taller than most of the other visitors. He must’ve been watching the door for her arrival as he was rising from his seat before she even had chance to wave hello. He was dressed a little more casually than he’d been in his office – a checked shirt open over a black T-shirt and jeans that looked as well-worn as her own. Hope wove quickly between the busy tables and stopped in front of him. ‘Hello, I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.’
‘It’s fine, not a problem. I was worried that I was going to keep you waiting!’ They laughed, with only a touch of awkwardness.
‘No one seems to mind if I was kept waiting,’ a voice drawled from behind her, and Hope spun around, face flushing as the second man at the table also rose to his feet. Goodness, was it a prerequisite of the university’s department of archaeology that everyone who worked there had to be good-looking? Though he wasn’t as tall as Cam, the dark-haired man was broad through the shoulders and chest. Dressed in a similarly casual outfit, the sleeves of his shirt were folded up high enough to display a glimpse of a pair of impressive biceps.
‘This is Barnie,’ Cam said. ‘He thinks he’s funny.’ Hope swung back in time to see him shooting a glare at his colleague.
‘Dr Barnard.’ The dark-haired man extended a large hand towards her. ‘But you can call me Barnie as I’m already sure we’re going to be very good friends.’
Hope shook his hand, trying not to smile when he held it for a fraction longer than necessary. Dr Barnard was nothing if not a very practised flirt. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Barnie, and I am very sorry to have kept you waiting.’ She did smile then. Her very best client-charming smile and didn’t miss the teasing glint in Barnie’s eye.
‘You didn’t keep anyone waiting,’ Cam insisted. ‘Please, have a seat.’ He’d actually moved around the table to hold the back of the empty chair next to him. Brownie points for that, Hope thought as she sat down. Some women might baulk at such behaviour, deeming it sexist or old-fashioned, but Hope attributed it to good manners. Her cousin Rhys would do the same. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ Cam asked.
A shot of caffeine sounded like just what she needed, but she was conscious of the time. ‘Don’t you want to get to the site?’
‘Oh, we’ve loads of time for that,’ Barnie said, his tone breezy as he raised a hand. ‘And I for one could do with another slice of that delectable lemon drizzle cake.’ He directed the last comment at Sandra, one of the staff who’d approached at his wave.
‘I made that one myself,’ Sandra said, with a smile as she pulled her notepad and pencil out of the pocket of her apron. ‘Do you want another cappuccino to go with it?’
‘You made it? Then I insist you marry me at once!’ Barnie pressed his hands to his heart.
‘Well, if I wasn’t old enough to be your mother and a lesbian to boot, then I’d consider that the best offer I’ve had today.’
The rebuff didn’t stop Barnie for a second. ‘Well, I’ll just have to settle for the cake then. Your partner is a very lucky woman.’
‘Yes, she is, and I make sure to tell her that every day.’ Sandra turned to the rest of them. ‘Same for everyone, is it? Oh, hello, Hope! I didn’t realise these gentlemen were guests of yours.’
Spotting a hint of panic in Sandra’s eyes, Hope leaned on her elbows and gave her a conspiratorial smile. ‘No lemon drizzle for me, but I will take a sliver of black forest gateau if there’s any left.’
Sandra beamed back at her, all traces of worry wiped away. ‘Penny’s already put a slice by for you. I was going to pop it over later, but you’ve saved me a walk.’ She glanced around as though missing something. ‘Where are the boys?’
‘I left them with Zap. He’s taking them and Hercule for a long walk. Hopefully he’ll come back in a better temper.’ A tromp around the woods with the three dogs in tow would hopefully help him clear his head.
Sandra smiled. ‘I’ve baked some biscuits for them. I’ll drop in on Zap later with an extra-large latte and some shortbread, that should cheer him up.’ She turned to Cam. ‘And what can I get for you, dear?’
‘Just a coffee, thanks, Sandra.’
The woman glowed at the fact he’d taken the trouble to read her name badge. ‘Coming right up.’
As she walked away, Cam turned to Hope with an odd look on his face. ‘If you have a childcare issue, we can do this on another day.’
What on earth was he talking about? ‘It’s hard to have childcare issues when you don’t have children,’ she said with a laugh.
He shot a quick puzzled glance over his shoulder towards Sandra’s retreating back. ‘But when Sandra mentioned your boys, you said Zap has taken them for a walk. I just thought, given you mentioned him being stressed out about a supplier problem and everything, that he might not be in the best frame of mind for looking after them.’
Hope giggled. He’d clearly put two and two together and made babies. ‘Oh, goodness, I can see why you might be confused. The boys in question are two very unruly puppies I made the mistake of adopting earlier this year.’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean that – I wouldn’t be without them even if they are a bit of a handful.’
Cam had gone bright red, his distress palpable as he began to stutter out an apology. ‘I… I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed…’
Hope found herself reaching out to cover his hand with her own. ‘It’s really not a problem,’ she promised. ‘Like I said, I can understand where the confusion might have come from.’
He shifted in his seat, still clearly uncomfortable. ‘Still, it wasn’t appropriate of me to speculate.’
Barnie leaned forward. ‘Tell us a bit about the set-up here at The Old Stable Yard. How did the workshops come about?’
From the quiet sigh of relief beside her, Hope could tell she wasn’t the only one who was grateful for the timely intervention. This felt like much safer ground than her personal life and she was so proud of what they were achieving on the estate. She could wax lyrical about it for hours. ‘My uncle, Ziggy, came up with the idea. He was looking at innovative ways to provide employment for the local community, but wanted to offer something more than service jobs, which is of course a large part of running an estate like this.’ Hope paused as Sandra approached and set down their drinks and two slices of cake. ‘I said a sliver,’ she admonished Sandra fondly when what could only be described as a slab of black forest gateau was put in front of her.
