Page 69 of Who’s That Girl?

‘Well, as long as it’s wet.’ He grins, lightly kissing Vanessa on the forehead with a ‘Hello, hon’, before sitting down. ‘Sorry, work was insane.’

‘As always,’ mutters Vanessa, but if Julian hears her, he doesn’t react.

‘I know, why don’t we ask the waiter?’ I suggest as a compromise and, closing the menu, I turn round to attract his attention.

Finishing up at another table, he looks over. ‘Yes?’

Oh God. My heart sinks as I realise it’s the same barman who served us on Monday night. The one who thought my allergies were just hilarious.

‘We’d like to order some wine, please.’ Julian smiles.

‘What would you like?’

‘I was thinking about a Pinot—’ Miles begins, but is interrupted by Vanessa.

‘But we can’t decide,’ she finishes, throwing him a look.

‘Well, I’d suggest the Rioja if you want a red, or the Sancerre if you’d prefer white.’

I’m skulking down in my chair, trying to hide behind my menu. Hopefully he won’t remember me.

‘They both sound great,’ smiles Julian. ‘Why don’t we have one of each?’

‘Excellent.’ He nods, then motions to the empty breadbasket. ‘More bread?’

‘Um, no, not for me,’ says Vanessa. ‘Charlotte?’

‘Charlotte doesn’t eat bread,’ pipes up Miles before I can answer. ‘She has a wheat intolerance.’

‘Ah, yes, now I remember. The lady with the food allergies.’

I catch the barman’s eyes and see they’re twinkling with amusement.

‘So, what’s new, Miles?’ asks Julian as the barman leaves. Thankfully.

‘Well, Charlotte and I put an offer in on a house yesterday.’

‘You did?’ Vanessa looks at me agog. ‘You never told me, Charlotte!’

‘Didn’t I? Oh, er … I was going to.’ Suddenly reminded, I feel an anxious twinge. ‘It must have slipped my mind.’

‘Wow, that’s exciting!’ Julian nods, raising his eyebrows as if he’s impressed.

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ beams Miles.

‘I bet Mrs M. was beside herself,’ grins Vanessa, referring to my mum. She’s known me long enough to know what my mother’s like.

‘I haven’t told her.’

‘You haven’t?’ Miles rounds on me, shocked.

‘Well, we don’t know if we’ve got it yet, do we?’ I say quickly.

‘When do you find out if your offer’s been accepted?’ asks Julian evenly.

‘Soon, I hope,’ replies Miles, turning to him. ‘It went straight to sealed bids, so we’re just waiting to hear.’

‘Shall we order?’ I suggest, trying to sound nonchalant and to change the subject. All this house talk is making me nervous.