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Might still be willing to fight for her, she hoped. Because she planned to fight for him.
“I want to do more here, Bex.” Tony came to sit beside her on the bed and stared at her with hard eyes, as if she were the one trying to stop him. “I want more than convincing people it’s not the end of the world if they have a casino on some side street. I want the heart and the soul of this town. I want this place to become a tourist Mecca, without the bleeding hearts and the environmentalists telling me I’ve ruined their town.” He put a hand across her knee. “For once, I want these people to be grateful. I want them to bloody well thank me for saving their silly little town from extinction.”
He was so compelling when he was like this. He drew her in until she believed in his vision utterly. It was kind of scary.
Tony trailed his fingers across her thigh, and Becky swallowed. “That’s what I want too. How do you plan to do it?”
“We need the heart of the community. And thank God that’s not the church anymore–they’re never in favor of progress.” His touch reached the bottom of her skirt and kept moving up. “No, these days it’s the shops and the restaurants. The consumerist center. They’re the people who’ll win big under our plans. People like Charlie Frost and his restaurant. You think anybody here appreciates food like that?” Becky was finding it harder to think as Tony’s hands roamed higher. Harder to remember why she’d wanted to come back to Aberarian, except to make his dreams come true. “So, you do still want me to get Charlie on board?”
Tony nodded and placed a kiss to her neck.
“Any instructions how I go about that?” she asked, gulping when Tony’s fingers brushed her knickers. It was just as well she’d be breaking things off with him once she had Charlie back. Tony had far too much power over her like this. She wanted to make him proud, for heaven’s sake.
“Whatever works,” Tony mumbled against her breast, and Becky thought she had some ideas. Really, Tony had taught her so much.
* * * *
Later that evening, Mia found herself pausing outside StarFish again, wondering if Charlie was even expecting her for the tasting, after the lunch from hell. Wondering if she should be there at all.
She peered through the window, trying to make out exactly who was inside. It was gone nine-thirty, already late enough usually to be confident the odd local diners who’d stopped in had finished their meals and headed home. Mia could see one couple near the door putting on their coats. She smiled; any customers at all tended to put Charlie in a better mood. Still, given it was a Saturday night, she hoped he’d had more than one table filled.
Beyond the couple, she could see Magda at the till. The kitchen doors were closed, and the remaining restaurant looked empty. In other words, no Becky, unless she was haranguing Charlie in the kitchen. Deciding to take her chances, Mia held the door open for the exiting couple and made her way inside.
Magda smiled at her from behind the bar. “Good,” she said, slamming the till drawer closed. “He was worried you wouldn’t come after this afternoon.”
“And miss out on the potential for breaded prawns?” Mia shrugged off her coat, draping it over the coat rack by the door. “Not a chance.”
Shaking her head, Magda said, “I don’t know how you two can call it a tasting when Charlie just keeps making your favorite dishes. They’re not even on the menu.”
“We have a deal,” Mia explained. “For every new and suspicious dish he wants me to try, he has to make me one he knows I love.”
Magda didn’t look convinced, so Mia decided to change the subject. “Many people in tonight?”
“More than had booked, which is something.”
Mia nodded. They’d all pretty much take what they could get, the way business was at the moment.
The kitchen doors opened and Charlie appeared, a plate of tempura and breaded prawns with chili sauce and garlic mayonnaise already in his hands.
“I thought I heard you,” he said with a smile. Obviously Becky’s visit hadn’t been too traumatic for him. He turned to Magda, adding, “You can take off now, if you want. I can’t imagine anyone else is going to come in tonight.”
Magda gave Charlie a grateful smile, and Mia realized she already had her coat and bag in her hand. No one knew better than Magda the likelihood of more customers.
When she was gone, Charlie led Mia over to their table at the rear of the restaurant, and Mia sank gratefully into her chair. She loved their table. It was close to the fire in winter, and far away from the windows and prying eyes all year round.
Charlie put the plate of prawns in the center of the table, along with a couple of napkins, then disappeared over to the bar. When he returned, he brought with him a bottle of white wine and two very large glasses. Mia smiled in appreciation as he filled hers.
“Quite the day,” Mia said, lifting the glass to her lips.
Charlie slumped down in the chair beside her. “I’m sorry.”
“For dating a crazy woman?” Mia picked up the plumpest prawn on the plate. She deserved it.
“I didn’t know she was coming back,” he said.
“Or else you would have warned me to run for the hills.” Mia bit off the tail of her prawn dipped in garlic mayonnaise, chewed and swallowed. “Fair enough.”
“I just...” Charlie shook his head and reached for his glass. “I can’t believe she’s here.”
Which, Mia reflected, could be taken one of two ways. One, he was horrified at her arrival and even more disgusted by the way she’d spoken to his best friend, and was looking for ways to run her out of town. Two, he was just amazed at the second chance he’d been given at love.
Call her a coward, but Mia wasn’t sure she wanted to know which it was.
Charlie shifted in his chair, turning his body to face her, wineglass dangling between his strong hands. Watching them in the candlelight, Mia could see hints of the scars and burns she supposed were inevitable in his profession.
“But never mind about my absurd day,” he said, and Mia shifted her attention from his hands to his chocolate brown eyes. “What about this letter from your dad?”
Mia looked away. She hadn’t forgotten about the letter–she could almost feel it pulsing away in the bottom of her bag. But she’d tried to push it aside, out of her mind. It was a lot easier to concentrate on the evil of Becky Thrower than the disappointment of her father.
Still, she really didn’t want to talk to Charlie about Becky.
Taking a large gulp of wine for courage, Mia dug into her bag and pulled out the envelope Jacques had given her. Laying it on the table, facing Charlie, she ran a hand over it to smooth out the creases, then grabbed another prawn instead.
“Still not opened it?” Charlie asked, not touching the letter.
“I don’t know if I want to know what it says.” Something occurred to her. “You could open it for me. Then you could decide if I should know what
he has to say or not.”
For a moment, Mia thought Charlie might actually do it. Then he shook his head and nudged the envelope toward her with two fingers. “I think this is one of those things you really have to do yourself.”
Mia sighed. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Chuckling, Charlie took a prawn, and Mia cast about for a change of subject. “You haven’t got any weird concoctions for me to try tonight?” Fish wasn’t actually her dream food, usually. Charlie said that was what made her such an ideal taster. Mia thought he just liked making her eat new and outlandish creatures. They’d started with basic salmon and were working their way up to the really freaky types of shellfish.
Mia wasn’t looking forward to the start of the Anglesey oyster season in October. If StarFish survived that long.
Charlie shrugged. “I figured after today we both deserved a break. And, to be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Of course I came,” Mia said, surprised. “It’s Saturday night. It’s what we do.” What they’d done for almost a year and half now, since Becky left and they’d got talking in the Crooked Fox one night. There weren’t a lot of twenty-something locals in Aberarian, single or otherwise. They had to stick together.
But maybe they wouldn’t be doing it so much now Becky had returned. Charlie might have better things to do.
Frowning, Mia grabbed her wine again.
“What are you afraid it says?” Charlie asked, and it took Mia a moment to remember he was talking about the letter. Apparently her sour turn of thought had been visible on her face, even if the reason for it wasn’t.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I just can’t imagine what he could have to say to me after all these years.”
Charlie looked confused. “Then why not open it and find out?”
Mia glanced down at her fingers, tightening around the stem of her wineglass, and mentally told her hands to relax before it shattered. “It’s not what he has to say that I’m worried about,” she admitted, her voice soft.
“Then what?” Charlie asked, brow furrowed.
