Page 78 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

Instead she watched as the man glared for another minute, then went back inside. But she couldn’t feel any relief until Avery was out. So she stood there, picking up pen after pen, looking at none of them.

Would she ever recover from the last ten minutes? She realized she was saying his name in her head like a mantra: Avery, Avery, Avery. She scribbled her name on the tester pad with one of the expensive pens, then the word please, and then, when she looked up, Avery was standing in the doorway, his hands deep in his pockets. He looked worried, exhausted, and Daisy felt the tears threaten again. She waited until he’d turned up the street, until he was almost level with her, then she went to the door and pulled it open.

She thought he would walk away without seeing her, that she would have to chase him. But the moment she stepped outside he turned his head, and their eyes locked. His widened in surprise. He’d had no idea she’d been there, which meant that maybe she’d got away with it. And now she had a recording of the man scamming Avery.

‘Daisy?’ He sounded genuinely confused.

‘Can we go and get a coffee?’ Before he could reply, she linked her arm through his and dragged him up the road, needing to put as much space between them and the big black door as possible.

Chapter Twenty-five

They walked in silence to The Forum, the impressive, glass-fronted atrium that housed the local BBC TV and radio stations, as well as the library, a restaurant and a coffee shop. There was a festive fair on, tables set up around a Christmas tree that must have been forty foot tall, its branches draped in purple tinsel and huge gold baubles. Two women who looked like students were operating a Christmas selfie booth, with an oversized cardboard Polaroid frame and a snowflake confetti cannon, couples or friends taking turns to hand over their phones, then posing behind the frame while fluffy snowflakes drifted down on them. It looked fun, and silly, and the last thing Daisy felt like doing.

Customers browsed the candles and soaps, the handmade jewellery and crocheted Christmas puddings, every sort of small gift you could hope to fill stockings or give to loved ones. Daisy ignored them all, leading Avery to the coffee shop.

They found a squashy sofa in the corner. It was next to a window, but the outside tables and chairs were stacked against it, so she thought if anyone was looking for Avery, at least they would be shielded from view.

‘I’ll get us coffees.’ She reached into her bag for her purse.

Avery put his warm hand over hers. He was standing so close, and she wanted to lean into him. ‘You’re shaking,’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I’ll get—’

‘I’ll get them,’ he said firmly. ‘You sit down.’

She did as she was told, sinking into the soft leather cushion. Perhaps she wasn’t as badass as she thought. She took deep breaths, and draped her jacket over her lap because it was chilly in here. She was on high alert, looking for the too-smooth man or his henchman, but the café was full of mums with pushchairs and young children, groups of students in DMs and ripped tights, older couples with woven tote bags to store their presents in. Everyone laughing, music playing, the excited chatter of the week before Christmas.

She jumped when Avery put the tray down, and he frowned. He put a mug in front of her, the drink topped with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles spilling onto the saucer, and a plate with a large slab of brownie, marshmallows peeking out of the chocolatey dough.

‘I didn’t …’

‘You need the sugar.’ Avery put his drink down and took the tray back to the counter. When he returned, he sat next to her, his body angled towards hers. ‘What’s happened? Is it Lars? Were you meeting him this morning?’

Why couldn’t she reply? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Avery went rigid. ‘Did he do something? Because I swear to God—’

‘Lars didn’t do anything.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘Lars is fine. He’d like something more between us, but I haven’t ever said yes or made him believe I was interested, apart from maybe that dinner, but it was a work dinner for me and I didn’t mean to encourage him, even though afterwards he asked me if I—’

‘Daisy.’ Avery cupped her face, his hand warm and rough against her skin. ‘Tell me what happened.’ His gaze was so intense, his grey eyes so concerned, that in that moment she felt truly cared for. Would it last, when she told him what she’d done?

‘I saw you go in the black door.’ His gaze flickered away from her, but his thumb stroked her cheek. ‘I had my meeting with Lars, then … I remembered what time I’d seen you there before, so I waited and I … I watched you.’

‘You saw me go in?’

‘I followed, but it was too late. The door had locked behind you.’

Avery let go of her, raking a hand through his hair. ‘You shouldn’t have done that. There are things—’

‘I picked the lock.’

He stuttered, sat back. ‘What?’

‘You showed me, at the bookshop. So I bought a set of those little metal rods online and I practised at the manor, and when I was too late and you’d gone inside, I picked the lock and I got it open.’

She watched him swallow. He hadn’t touched his hot chocolate, but she picked hers up, her nose going in the cream as she sipped, giving herself time. Slowly, she put her mug back on the table, heard it rattle in the saucer.

‘That was you,’ Avery said quietly. He brushed his finger over her nose, wiping the cream off. ‘There was a noise outside.’