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It was the end of a busy Thursday night’s service, and Carrie had stepped into the lovely kitchen garden behind the restaurant for a breath of fresh air before she finished clearing up. The night was unseasonably warm and it had got very hot in the kitchen, mostly because Rory had added lobster to the menu and all night she’d had to keep a huge silver pan of water at a roiling boil, ready for him to drop in the lobster to order.
Carrie had to admit that she wasn’t overly fond of the fact that the lobsters were alive when they went in the pot, or the way they still moved when Rory got them out of the freezer, but he was the boss. If Rory said lobsters were on the menu, then they were on the menu.
She fanned herself with a linen napkin, untying her apron and pulling her pink gingham cotton dress up at the front to get some air underneath it. She’d got so sweaty in the kitchen that she could feel her hair sticking to her neck. She pulled it into a messy short ponytail and secured it with the hairband she had around her wrist, thinking that she really had to find a hairdresser’s soon so she could get her colour redone. The deep red she usually preferred had washed out a lot and was currently looking more auburn than anything.
Loch Cameron seemed to be having one of those autumns that stayed warm long past where it should have.Climate change, most likely, Carrie thought, but it was difficult not to enjoy the warm sun and the dry evenings like this one. Leaves drifted down from an oak tree at the end of Rory’s kitchen garden, covering the herbs. She watched them, enjoying the beauty of the moment and feeling the cool evening air on her stomach and thighs.
‘Not interrupting, I hope?’ Rory stood in the doorway behind her, a slow smile on his face.
Mortified, Carrie dropped the hem of her dress. ‘Oh! No. I was just cooling off. Since we’ve ended service.’ She cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t seen anything he shouldn’t.
I bet he’d like to,Claire’s voice suggested slyly.Naughty boy.
He would like nothing of the sort, Carrie thought, crossly.
‘It’s okay. You’re allowed to take a break whenever you want.’ Rory folded his muscular arms over his chest and leaned on the doorframe. ‘Busy again tonight.’
‘Yeah. The lobster was popular.’ Carrie took up the thread of the offered conversation, grateful for the distraction away from her exposing herself in the garden.
‘You didn’t like it, did you? Me boiling them?’
Carrie didn’t want to be rude, but she also disliked not being honest. ‘No. But it’s not my decision.’
‘I got a great deal on them and it’s always popular on the menu,’ he explained. ‘But I understand watching them be cooked isn’t for everyone. I appreciate your professionalism, anyway. Just getting on with it.’
‘Well, that’s what I’m here for.’ She shrugged. ‘You’re the boss, I’m just the minion.’
‘I don’t see it like that. We’re all part of the same team.’
‘Listen, I don’t mind taking orders. It’s easier if you can just tell me what you want me to do,’ Carrie said. ‘I like not having to think too much about anything right now. It’s good to lose myself in something boring and repetitive.’
Rory looked her up and down. ‘You would have done well in the navy,’ he said.
Carrie felt herself blushing under his stare. ‘What are you looking at me like that for?’ she asked.
‘I’m imagining you in the uniform. Not that it would do much for a pretty girl like you.’
‘Oh, please.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘If you like the uniform so much, why did you leave?’
‘It’s not just wearing a uniform. You do actually have to do some difficult things,’ he countered, the smile disappearing from his face.
‘Like what?’
‘Nothing I want to talk about.’ He looked away.
‘You can talk to me. I’ve… I know what it’s like to experience difficult things,’ Carrie said, watching his expression. He was guarded, closed off suddenly. She knew what it was to feel that way. That was exactly what she’d been doing in Loch Cameron: hiding. Not wanting to talk or share her feelings about Claire. She still hadn’t replied to Graham’s text. She had gone to do it a couple of times, but had stopped at the last minute on both attempts and deleted her message.
‘I don’t want to talk to you. Not about that.’ He met her eyes, and she saw something dark in his expression. A shadow of pain.
‘Why not? I’m a human. So are you.’ She folded her arms across her chest, realising that she was mimicking his protective body language.
‘I hardly know you, I’m your boss, and I don’t want to talk about the navy,’ Rory said, an edge in his voice. ‘So, no.’
‘There’s no need to be rude,’ Carrie said, feeling slightly annoyed. ‘I was just trying to be nice.’
‘Well, don’t,’ he growled. ‘I don’t need your sympathy. Or anyone else’s.’
‘I wasn’t—’ Carrie began, but he cut her off.
