He hadn’t looked up.
‘Oh, Charlie, I’m so sorry.’ My hand automatically moved to touch his. Again, with the touchy-feely boundary issues. Oh, well. But he didn’t move it. He just looked up and let out a sigh.
‘Something called HCM. Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Funny what you remember, isn’t it? Apparently, it generally affects younger people and most of the time, unless it’s something flagged in your family history, you don’t know you have it until something happens.’
I didn’t know what to say.
He reached for the glass of water the waiter had put down moments after we’d arrived and took a sip.
‘Were you with him?’
He nodded. ‘Right beside him. And I couldn’t do anything. I’ve never felt so utterly useless in my entire life.’
‘It sounds like there’s nothing that anyone could have done.’
Charlie shook his head, then looked at me under his lashes. ‘Do you always do this?’
My eyes widened. ‘What?’
‘Put people at their ease so they spill out their deepest, darkest secrets?’
I got the feeling Charlie Richmond wasn’t used to opening up too often, and I didn’t want to ruin the meal or, let’s face it, lose my newly acquired accountant. Time to lighten the mood.
‘The lifestyle blog thing is just a cover. Truth is, I’m actually a kick-ass secret agent. Being interested in people is my weapon of choice. Everything else makes far too much mess.’
The blue eyes sparkled with amusement.
‘I’m sorry if I overstepped. I sort of have a habit of doing that.’
He waved away my apology before taking another sip of water. ‘It just seemed such a waste. As I said, I like to try and reason things out. But this? There was no reason for it. It was just completely out of nowhere.’ Sadness clouded the blue.
‘It was an utter waste. I’m so sorry about your friend.’
He flicked his gaze to me and gave an almost imperceptible nod of acceptance.
I continued. ‘It would be so nice if life worked like that. That there really was a reason for everything. Unfortunately, it doesn’t, and there isn’t. It’s just bloody messy a lot of the time. I think all we can ever do is muddle through the best way we know how – whether that’s by your way of finding as much black and white, linear movement as possible or my more… wishy-washy method.’
His face creased into a smile as he brought his gaze back from the middle distance it had been resting in. ‘Wishy-washy?’
Looking back at him, I was relieved to see the sadness dissipated. ‘It’s as good a description as any,’ I said, laughing, as the waiter approached the table.
‘It is,’ Charlie agreed.
We ordered our drinks and set about scanning the menu for lunch.
‘What shall I have?’ I pondered aloud, my gaze drifting from one yummy-sounding choice to another on the oversized menu I now held in front of me.
‘Do you want bread and olives, or something else to get started on?’
‘Hmm?’ I said, peeking over the top of the card.
‘I just wondered if you wanted some bread and olives to be getting on with? Whilst we wait for the rest?’ He paused. ‘Or do you not like them?’
‘I love them! I just have a habit of filling up on them before my main course arrives.’
‘I can ration you.’
Once again, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. I decided to roll with it anyway.
