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‘You have no idea how lucky.’ Finishing the rest of my coffee, I can’t help being curious. When it comes to first impressions, I’m normally bang on. But from what I’ve seen so far, any trace of the arrogant lawyer has gone. ‘Can I be honest? Only this is confusing.’ I frown at him. ‘Last week, after you came in aboutyour nightmare client, I could never have imagined talking to you. I couldn’t have imagined you’d have apologised, either.’
‘Nor would I – back then.’ He winces. ‘But you could say, one or two things have happened since then.’
Given how different he seems, I’m curious. ‘Want to talk about it?’
‘Not just now.’ Without waiting for me to speak, he changes the subject. ‘So where did you live before Arundel?’
I raise one of my eyebrows. ‘You do small-talk, lawyer man?’
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’m trying to deflect the conversation from my previous shortcomings, that’s all. Tell me about yourself.’
I frown, wondering what he wants to know. ‘OK. Don’t say you didn’t ask. I lived in Spain for a few years – but I’ve always travelled. I’m a travel writer.’
A look of amusement crosses his face. ‘Ah. So, in between running the smallest hotel in Sussex, you’re writing about all the exciting places around here.’
I glance sideways at him, noticing he hasn’t touched the cake. ‘You do sarcasm, hey?’ I pause. ‘If you really want to know, I broke up with the boyfriend I moved to Spain with. Like I said, I took the job in the hotel because my friend was going away.’ I shrug. ‘I guess the timing was right.’
‘When’s your friend back?’ Forrest looks slightly anxious.
‘Not yet. And you don’t need to worry. The room will be sorted by then.’ I’ve no idea why I’m trying to reassure him.
‘I’m going to see to it that your bill is paid in full,’ he says earnestly.
‘It is what it is.’ I don’t want to talk about the trashed hotel room. ‘The work will get done one way or another. Life moves on, doesn’t it?’
‘I guess so – not that it’s always that simple.’ He falls silent. ‘Seeing as I was going to ask you out, how about now? If you’re not busy, that is. Maybe we could go somewhere.’
I glance at my scruffy jeans and walking shoes. I’m hardly dressed for a date. ‘Like where?’
‘One of these restaurants?’ He glances up the High Street where there are half a dozen, a warm glow coming from their windows. ‘Or a country pub with a log fire? You can’t beat them, can you?’ he says hopefully.
I arch an eyebrow. ‘Oh, I think you’ll find you can. Let me see:chiringuitoson secret beaches, backstreet tapas bars, swanky marina restaurants… I could go on,’ I say coolly.
His face falls. ‘I take it we’re talking about Spain.’
‘Right on,’ I say, suddenly feeling nostalgic.
‘You’re planning on going back?’
‘Maybe one day.’ I shrug. ‘I’ll be going away soon – but not to Spain. I have a few writing projects coming up.’
He looks distant for a moment. ‘Anywhere interesting?’
Forgetting the idea of a date, I carry on talking. ‘Morocco first – then Turkey. The angle is the restorative effect of living a simple life, even for a week or two.’ Still not sure if the arsehole lawyer is undercover, I wait for a clever aside.
But instead, he sounds sincere. ‘Sounds great.’
‘I happen to think so.’ I pause. ‘Something definitely changes when life is slow. When there’s no traffic, just the sound of the wind or the sea – and the birds.’ Even thinking about it, I feel my mind start to drift.
He listens intently. ‘To be honest, I never used to think about it. But what you’ve just described… These last few days, I’ve realised that’s what I need,’ he says quietly.
I’m puzzled – about how wrong I got him, about how different he seems to when we first met; how he keeps referringto the last few days. ‘So how about you?’ I ask. ‘I mean, obviously you’re a lawyer. But what else is there to know about you?’
A look of amusement crosses his face. ‘Are you always like this?’
I fake a look of surprise. ‘Like what, exactly?’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re very direct.’
