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He was supposed to be confronting her, he knew. He was supposed to be asking her what she was planning. But her red dress was strapless, and oh God, she was going to kiss him again and he really didn’t want her to...
Just as Charlie put his hands to Becky’s shoulders to push her away, the restaurant door opened, and Mia stood in the doorway, her mouth ever so slightly open. Behind her, Tony was frowning.
“So sorry to interrupt,” Tony said. “Are we early?”
* * * *
Charlie left Becky to deal with her guests, muttering something about the starters, and hightailed it into the kitchen while he tried to remember what he was supposed to be cooking. He pulled out his favorite frying pan, grabbed a dish full of calamari and marinade from the fridge, and was halfway through heating the oil when the kitchen door creaked open just enough for Mia to slip through the gap.
“What’s going on here?” Mia asked without preamble, her tone more astonished than curious. “Really?”
Charlie shook his head as he dropped the rings of seafood into the hot oil. “Haven’t the foggiest,” he lied, hating himself. “She says she wants to spend time with me.”
Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “You’re getting back together with her, aren’t you?”
Charlie turned to look at her, where she stood, door behind her, arms wrapped around his favorite of her tea dresses–pale pink roses blooming over a navy background. She looked as tired as he felt, and he wondered what would happen if he just kissed her. If he just told her how he felt.
She wasn’t ready. But he was sick of being patient. So what he actually said was, “What does it matter if I am?” Meaning, ‘what does it matter to you?’
Mia blinked. “What does it matter? Charlie, of course it matters! Don’t you remember...” She shook her head. “Of course you do. You know what she did to you. And you’re going to get together with her anyway, aren’t you?”
He wasn’t, Charlie was almost certain. Not while he had a say in the matter. Of course Becky wasn’t always the best at hearing the word no when she didn’t want to.
But, then, why shouldn’t he? Becky was making a real effort. She planned to stay in town. She seemed genuine this time. And he had loved her, hadn’t he? He’d been crazy about her, once. Was it so absurd to consider a second chance?
He shook his head. It was still pretty absurd.
Charlie realized he hadn’t given Mia an answer at the same time she decided he wasn’t going to. “Charlie...” She paused, apparently searching for just the right words to convince him. “I know you loved her. I just think you’d be making a terrible mistake if you get back together with her. And as your friend, I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
It was perfectly reasonable. Hell, Charlie even agreed with her. But that didn’t stop the anger bubbling up inside him at her words. Because who was she to tell him what might hurt him when, it turned out, hearing her say she wasn’t ready was more painful than anything Becky had done lately?
Charlie gave the frying pan a vicious shake, knowing the calamari were beyond overcooked. He’d serve them to Tony anyway, to watch the other man try to chew the rubber bands, except he had too much professional pride. He’d have to start again. “My love life is none of your business.”
“I’m your best friend, and your happiness isn’t my business?” Mia asked.
Charlie tossed the pan into the sink, sending loops of squid flying across the surface. “These are ruined.” He moved to the fridge and yanked open the door, pulling out an emergency tray of calamari.
When he turned, Mia already had the kitchen door open. “I’ll stop disturbing you, then,” she said, and Charlie knew she was putting as much distance between them as she could. Knew that even if she was ever ready, she might not be ready for him.
He selected his second best frying pan with a sigh and wished like hell the night was over already.
* * * *
Back in the restaurant, Becky was behind the counter, just as if she’d never left, leafing through Charlie’s reservations book and tutting. Tony was at the bar, sipping on a gin and tonic. Mia headed straight for the chiller and poured herself a large glass of wine.
“Charlie’s just finishing off the starters,” she said, settling on her stool.
Becky shut the book and made her way over to Mia and Tony. Mia tried to ignore the way Becky’s scarlet dress swept across her perfect figure and wished she’d thought to dress up more than the clean tea dress and cardigan she’d thrown on at the last minute.
She’d been right, she knew now, not to take Charlie’s advances too seriously. He’d been drunk and upset and confused. And maybe Joe was right. Maybe she wasn’t ready.
God knew Charlie clearly wasn’t.
There was only one table laid in the place. It was about halfway down, quite near to the kitchen doors, and the crisp white linens and silver cutlery shone in the candlelight.
It was almost romantic. Mia bit back a laugh.
Finally the kitchen doors opened and Charlie appeared, a familiar figure in his jeans and soft cotton shirt, open at the neck, and an apron wrapped twice around his waist.
“Grub’s up.” He dumped the plates on the table. “Let’s get this over with.”
Mia winced, making her way to her seat, watching Charlie’s broad shoulders retreating into the kitchen for the other two plates. Tony and Becky, however, seemed to ignore his bad mood entirely and were still chattering while they settled at the table.
It should have been more comfortable, sitting at the table in the candlelight, with the usual trappings of napkins and cloths and a large glass of white wine. Still, Mia couldn’t help but feel the emptiness of the rest of the restaurant pressing in on them. Charlie appeared to have developed a permanent frown line across his forehead, ever since Becky reminded him to remove his apron before coming to the table. Mia almost felt sorry for him.
“The calamari was delicious,” she told him as they finished up the starters. Charlie looked up in surprise but not anger, and Mia felt something loosen inside her.
“It was surprisingly good,” Tony admitted.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Becky said, even though she’d barely touched her plate, and the table lapsed into silence again.
“Glad you liked it,” Charlie said, disappearing back to the kitchen for the main course. Mia watched him go and wished she could escape with him.
Tony leaned across the table and smiled at Mia. “So, how are the festival plans going?”
“Very well.” Mia reached for her wine glass. “The local school children are very enthusiastic.” Or they would be by the time Leonora Evans was
finished with them.
“It is really for the children, though, isn’t it,” Becky said, toying with her dessert spoon. “I mean, there isn’t anything there for the parents.” She looked up at Mia and smiled. “And only a child could think it’ll do enough to save this town.”
Before Mia could even formulate a reply, the kitchen doors banged open again and Charlie slapped another couple of plates down on the table.
“Fish pie!” Becky said with a small squeal of excitement. “My favorite.”
They ate mostly in silence again, which gave Mia time to consider her options. Did she want to lose Charlie as a friend, even if he was dating the bitch from hell? No. Did she really think Becky was going to stick around this time anyway? No.
She sighed, dropping her fork onto her empty plate, unable to even remember eating her meal. Charlie gave her a funny look from his side of the table.
Chances were, Becky was going to break his heart again. Which mean he would need Mia more than ever. Which meant...
Across the table, Charlie shoved his chair out and stood. “I’ll go and get the desserts...”
Mia grabbed her empty plate, and Tony’s, and made to follow. “I’ll help you,” she said, ignoring the bafflement on Charlie’s face. She wasn’t being left alone with Becky and Tony again.
* * * *
Charlie could feel the warmth of Mia’s skin behind him as she followed him into the kitchen, and it was a very welcome distraction from Becky secretive smiles and sideways glances at the dinner table. He just wished he knew where he stood now.
The door swung shut behind them, and Charlie headed straight for the fridge to retrieve the lemon mousse dessert. There wasn’t much to do except add berries, cream and icing sugar. Puddings weren’t really his thing; he’d rather an extra starter, most of the time. But Mia had a bit of a sweet tooth, and loved citrusy desserts, so of course he’d prepared one. This is getting a bit pathetic, Charlie boy.
“What do you think she was planning when she suggested this dinner?”
Charlie turned to see her perched up on the counter, swinging her legs, and he fell for her all over again. She belonged here, with him. And if he could only get rid of the two people sitting out in his restaurant...
