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“I’d like that,” Mia said with a nod, surprised to find she meant it.
From the smile that burst across his face like the sunset, so did George.
* * * *
Charlie wasn’t sure how or why Becky had come to be sitting on a barstool in his restaurant, leaning over the bar and sipping on an early evening gin and tonic, but she’d been there when he’d appeared from the kitchen to cover for Magda’s break an hour earlier, and she was still there now as he stuck his head out of the kitchen to see if Mia had shown up yet.
She wasn’t even eating. She was the only customer of the night so far, and all she’d ordered was two gin and tonics and a bag of peanuts. Breakfast and lunch might be doing better, but at this rate he was going to have to look at closing the other five nights of the week, too.
“I’ve got some great mussels in the kitchen, if you’d, you know, like to order any food at all.” Charlie was pretty sure he sounded more sarcastic than inviting. He couldn’t help it if he kept contrasting his night with Becky against his brief kiss with Mia and coming out in favor of the latter. Maybe if Becky actually ordered something.
Becky wrinkled her nose in the way he’d used to find endearing and no longer did. “I don’t eat shellfish, Charlie. You know that.”
Charlie shrugged. He did know, he supposed, somewhere in the depths of his mind where he’d pushed everything Becky-related. He’d just got so used to Mia trying everything he put in front of her, eventually, even if it required some coaxing, he’d forgotten Becky didn’t have the same willingness.
Becky pulled the menu over to her and took her time glancing over the various dishes while Charlie watched impatiently, aware this was his fault and if he hadn’t said anything he could have just carried on hiding in the kitchen, pretending to cook for imaginary guests.
“Maybe I’ll have a fruit salad,” Becky said, pointing at the desserts.
Charlie blinked at her. “Anything else? A main course, perhaps?”
“No, thanks.” Becky gave him her blinding smile. “I had an early dinner at the hotel before I came out.”
Which just took the biscuit. “You’ve already eaten.” Charlie fixed her with a stern stare. “Then what, exactly, are you doing here? In a restaurant?”
“Well, I came to see you, of course.” Becky looked a little nonplussed all of a sudden, which Charlie took some satisfaction in.
“Why?”
There was a hint of a pout around Becky’s lips. “Do I need a reason? Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Charlie wanted to tell her how displeased he was to see her in town at all, let alone in his restaurant, but at that moment the restaurant phone rang, and he dashed to beat Magda to it.
“Charlie?” George’s voice crackled over the line; the cottage wasn’t great for mobile reception. It was one of the things Charlie liked best about it. “Can you come up here? I’ve got a couple of things to show you.”
Charlie took a long look around at the empty restaurant and Becky chewing peanuts at the bar, and said, “Sure. Just let me shut up shop here.”
* * * *
Charlie paused to admire his new front door for a moment before pulling it open on actual hinges and calling, “George?” into the darkened cottage. The daylight was fading, and the electrics weren’t going to be finished until the end of the week, if he was lucky.
He was starting to feel a bit guilty about making George stay there, actually.
“In here,” George yelled in response, and Charlie followed his voice into the sitting room, where he found the older man placing an old cushion from the flat onto the window seat. George stepped back to admire his handiwork, and Charlie moved to stand beside him. Not bad at all. Okay, it wasn’t going to feature in any home magazine anytime soon, especially since there was still no other furniture in the room, but if you didn’t fall out of window or through the seat when you sat on it, that was good enough for him. Besides, it was encouraging to have finished something in the cottage, no matter how small, even if he hadn’t done it himself.
“It looks great,” Charlie said, and George smiled.
“It’s not bad, is it? I’m just fixing things all over this week. But I didn’t call you here to see some seat.”
George turned away from the window. Once he was sure Mia’s father wasn’t looking, Charlie threw himself down onto the seat and wriggled to get really comfortable. Now, if he could only get the rest of the cottage up to this mediocre standard, he might actually be able to move in.
“Things went well with Mia, then?”
“She didn’t tell you?” George glanced over and raised his eyebrows at Charlie’s relaxed position.
“We got a little...sidetracked.” The memory of Mia’s kiss made his lips tingle.
“Mmm.” George turned back to the opposite wall. “I think we made a start, anyway.”
“Good. So, you said there were a couple of things to show me? The window seat and...”
“This.” Moving to the fireplace, George tapped the top of the mantelpiece.
With a reluctant groan, Charlie got to his feet and went to investigate the odd fireplace. “I noticed this before. It’s too deep, isn’t it?”
George turned to him with such excitement in his face that for a moment, Charlie saw Mia in his features. “I don’t think it’s a fireplace.”
“Then what is it?” Charlie asked, turning away again, gaze roaming over the rest of the room. Everything else there was perfectly normal. So why the freaky fireplace?
“I’m not sure.”
Charlie’s gaze reached the window seat and, just for a second, he thought he saw Mia sitting there, book resting in her lap, staring out at the sea.
“But if you don’t mind, I might do some investigating,” George went on.
Charlie rubbed his eyes. “Sure. If you like.” When he opened them again, the room had returned to normal. He was actually losing his mind. She was causing him to go insane.
The worst thing was, he wasn’t even sure he minded.
Chapter 15
Becky woke the next morning with new resolve. Dressing in the scarlet wrap dress that did truly wonderful things for her cleavage and her black heels to give her the power to kick Tony really hard if he showed his face before she wanted him to, she strode down the Esplanade in the direction of StarFish, determined to set any worries aside for good. It was time, after all. Yes, it had started as a way to get him on their side but, effectively, she and Charlie had been dating ever since she’d arrived, whatever Tony said. It was time she decided where they stood.
The plan went awry early on. “He’s not here,” Magda said, juggling three cups of coffee for the window table.
“Well, where is he?” Becky asked.
“Uh, up at the cottage, I think.” And then Magda walked away without waiting to see if Becky wanted anything else. Which was really quite rude.
Still, the cottage. That could be a good sign. Tony had mentioned Charlie was planning on doing the old place up, just like they’d always dreamt. Ready to be their perfect home together. Yes, this could be a very good sign.
But when she got there... “White and blue? Isn’t that a little unimaginative?”
Charlie looked up from his paintbrush, glancing at George Page, who was fiddling with the fireplace on the other side of the room. He promptly disappeared into the hallway, where he’d be eavesdropping, Becky knew.
“What are you doing here?” Charlie asked.
“Just came to see how you’re getting on.” Becky ran a hand across the wooden mantelpiece, leaning unfixed against an unpainted wall. She’d always planned for marble. To complement the cream walls and the gold accents. “The door was open...”
Charlie nodded. “Yeah. Keeps the air circulating. Besides, I’m expecting Magda’s brother soon. He wants to get started in the bedroom.”
“I didn’t know you were doing this,” Becky admitted. In fact, she hadn’t really thought of the cottage much at all. She’d been m
ore focused on the initial goal of getting Charlie on her side for the casino. She hadn’t thought about what it would mean if she stayed until Tony made his offer.
But the cottage had always been Charlie’s dream, really. It wasn’t at all practical; something in town would be much better for them. Perhaps one of the newer apartments just off the Esplanade.
“It was Magda’s suggestion,” Charlie said with a shrug. “She thought I could rent it out, or even sell it. Shore up the finances at the restaurant.”
Which made good business sense, Becky supposed, but was less promising for their relationship. She looked around again. “I suppose you think the nautical theme will be popular for tourists?” At least he hadn’t picked it with her in mind.
