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“You going to get it for your new place?”
“No, it’s way too big for the house I’ve got my eye on. It would look silly in the space.” She snaps a photo of the mirror and I watch as she sorts it into a folder on her phone named ‘DREAM HOME’. “One day though.”
“Tell me about it,” I say, nodding to the mirror. Our reflections are distorted amidst the grime and dust, but I can make out her smiling face next to mine. “Tell me all about this mirror.”
“You don’t want to hear about that.”
“Yes, I do. Tell me about who designed it and what techniques they used and anything else you can think of.”
She catches my eye in the mirror. “You sure?”
I nod. “Go wild, sweetheart.”
She does, and the five minutes I spend listening to her passionately tell me all about the history of Parisian mirror making might just be five of the best minutes I’ve ever had in my life.
Later, when she’s distracted by a soft green rug with intricate silver threading woven throughout it, I make my way back to the mirror. The woman stood beside it gives me a knowing smile when I hand over my business card and let her know I’ll be in touch soon.
15
AMBER
I thinkthis might just be one of the best days I’ve had in a very long while, and I’m spending it with Finn Hawthorne of all people.
“What’s next, sweetheart?”
Truth be told, I thought he’d tire of the wholesweetheartthing by now, but he shows no signs of giving it up. Another truth? I definitely don’t mind as much as I probably should.
Every time he says it, a little frisson of pleasure shoots through me. I like the way it rolls off his tongue, the way his eyes always find mine, how it feels like more than just a silly little game. Like he really means it.
Sweetheart.
“I think you promised me lunch?” I say, not quite ready for this day to end yet.
Although, itislong past an acceptable time for lunch. We spent close to four hours in the fair with Hawthorne taking a surprising interest in all the items being showcased. It was nice actually –reallynice – sharing with him my thoughts about everything we looked at. He took everything in his stride, listened, asked questions, pointed at things that caught his interest and, by the end of it, was even pointing out things that he thought I’d like.
And it doesn’t escape me that he was right in most of his choices. Or how it made my heart skip a beat every time he pointed something out.
Maybe that’s why I don’t mind how close we are right now as we walk down the street. Our arms brush against each other with every step, and my fingers twitch against his, itching to reach out and link our hands together.
I fumble through my bag and find my phone as a way to give my traitorous hands something to do. “There’s a supermarket just around the corner. We can grab some food and then, if you want, we could head to Primrose Hill?”
“What’s Primrose Hill?”
“It’s a park on a hill not too far from here.” I nod in the direction we’ll be going. “If we start making our way there now, we should be able to camp out and get a good spot for sunset. It’s a bit of a trek, but the views once you reach the top on a clear day are second to none. Definitely the most beautiful thing you’ll see in the city today.”
Hawthorne gives me a slow, deliberate once over. “I doubt that.”
I feel my cheeks begin to warm, but I’ve never been one to back down and I force myself to hold his gaze. “Something else caught your eye?”
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, and I don’t think he can blame the pink tinge slowly spreading over his cheeks on the sun.
“Something.” He shrugs. “Someone.”
We’re teetering on the edge of something new here, and I think we both know it. There’s a sweet tension in the air and the temptation to lean into it and see where this could go is overwhelming. It brings me back to that evening in the pub, but there are no dark corners here. Just bright skies and the sun beaming down on us.
Nowhere to hide.
I’m not sure I want to.
