‘Where did you disappear to last night?’ my friend asks, narrowing her eyes as she puffs out a cloud of vapour.
I could lie and, I have to say, that it’s very tempting. I know that Charlie will be very disapproving and she has every right to be. But she has laser vision and can see right through me, so I’d better come clean. ‘Mason rocked up outside – unexpectedly.’ I want to make that very clear. ‘He gave me a lift home.’
She frowns at me and nicks a sip of my coffee. ‘I’m not liking the sound of this.’
‘He’s OK.’ I insist.
‘There’s no way you got out of that car without snogging him.’
‘We did have a bit of a snog,’ I confess. ‘In my defence, I had rather a lot to drink and was wearing a ra-ra skirt. I was feeling quite reckless.’
‘He’s an arch manipulator, Ruby. I’ve warned you. Shagger Soames likes getting his own way.’
‘I’m a big girl and I’m treading very carefully. Trust me.’ I pick at the rotting wood and marvel at the fact that we don’t get splinters in our bottoms. ‘Besides, who did you go home with?’
‘I shared a cab with Amanda.’
I don’t actually know who Amanda is, but I was fully expecting a different answer. ‘Not Nice Paul?’
‘Nooooo.’ She shakes her head. ‘Why would I go home with Nice Paul? He’s just a mate.’
‘You looked as if you were getting quite cosy.’
‘Looks can be deceiving, my friend,’ she says. ‘Besides, you can’t kiss a bloke dressed as Boy George. That would be totes weird. He was wearing more make-up than me.’
‘You did think about kissing him then?’
‘No. What is this, primary school?’
‘I like him.’
‘You go out with him then. Stop playing with fire with Shagger Soames.’
‘I think you’ve got him all wrong.’
‘Don’t think so, love. What did he have to say for himself that gave you that impression?’
‘Not a lot. I just get on OK with him. That’s all.’ I busy myself reorganising gravel with my toe. I don’t mention Paris. Charlie would do her pieces. He was probably just joking, anyway. As if I’d really go to Paris with him. Ha! Then the phone rings and I rush to answer it, glad of the distraction.
We’re run off our feet. Sometimes, I have no idea where all these people come from. I go out to dinner once every blue moon, but there are couples who eat in here practically every night of the week.
When Mason turns up – and, shame on me, I hoped he would – I’m busy on the phone. Every time I hang up, it rings again. We’ve got another steak night special that’s proving ridiculously popular as it’s half our usual price.
He gives me a slow, sexy wink as he crosses the restaurant and disappears into the bar. I hope no one else saw it. When I finally get off the phone, he comes over to me. My heart starts to patter, ridiculously – particularly for a woman of my age. It’s a long time since I was a teenager and I must keep reminding myself as I thought I’d left this kind of stuff behind when I was a hormonally charged fifteen-year-old.
‘Busy, Brown? That’s what I like to see.’ He leans on my desk.
‘Steak special. It’s gone mad,’ I tell him. ‘Clearly a lot of carnivores around here.’
‘I enjoyed the other night, Brown.’ He grins at me as he openly eyes me up and down. ‘Preferred that outfit too.’
‘Stop that right now.’ I wag my finger at him. ‘You should treat your employees with respect.’
‘I’m not only treating you with respect, I’m trying very hard to spoil you.’ He lowers his voice and checks that no one else is within listening distance. ‘Come to Paris with me,’ he cajoles. ‘I meant it. We’d have fun. And it would be work too, of course. I’m booking it in the next few days. Premier class Eurostar, bijou little hotel with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower.’
I go to speak, but he holds up a hand. ‘I know that you don’t like heights, but you won’t get dizzy just looking at it. Tell me that it isn’t sounding tempting.’
Sighing at him, I lower my voice and say, ‘Of course it is.’
‘Then what’s the problem?’
Charlie is glaring at me from across the bar and, traitor that I am, I turn my back on her. ‘You’re my boss. I’m your employee.’
‘This hasn’t escaped my notice.’
‘A junior employee. It puts me in a compromising position.’
‘Oh, I do hope so.’ Then he looks at me sincerely. ‘Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get good, reliable staff who the customers love?’
I confess that I don’t.
‘I don’t want to lose you,’ Mason assures me. ‘This will not affect our working relationship.’
He sounds so very sure of it that he almost has me convinced.
The worrying thing is that I’m already imaging myself sitting at those pavement cafés, glass of red wine in one hand, a baguette in the other. I can see my hand in his, him moving above me at night. That’s quite a strong imagine, if you must know. And we would have a good laugh together. I already know enough about Mason to realise that. It’s just that … I chew my lip with indecision.
‘I’ll pay for everything,’ he adds. ‘Happily. It won’t cost you a penny.’
My mother always used to say there’s no such thing as a free lunch. What about a trip to Paris? What would the cost of that really be?
‘I’m not looking for a relationship,’ he leans close to me and speaks softly. ‘We’d have a great weekend. Lots of fun. We’re both adults. Where’s the harm in it?’
‘I’m not the sort of person who jets off to Europe for the weekend.’
‘Then maybe you should become that woman.’ Those blue eyes twinkle for all they’re worth.
I think of the miserable time I’ve had recently. Don’t I deserve a bit of fun? Paris with Mason sounds sophisticated and elegant. No one’s ever taken me to Paris before. My ex took me for a surprise weekend to Alton Towers once, but that’s hardly the same is it? If Simon can take up with a younger model, then why the hell shouldn’t I? We could have a glamorous weekend of no-strings sex and gourmet food in the international city of love. This is exactly the sort of thing I should be doing as a newly divorced, single person. The whole of the world is out there for me to explore. I might as well start with France. Infinitely better than a gravel pit in Leicestershire, no?
‘Yes,’ I rush out. ‘I’ll come.’
Mason grins and it is the contented grin of a winner. Damn him, he knew I’d cave in. He’s played me very well. I realise that.
‘I could switch your shifts around and we could go this weekend.’
One of the benefits of fraternising with the boss, I guess. ‘So soon?’
‘I don’t want you changing your mind.’
‘OK, then.’ Now my grin matches his. I feel as if I’m doing something really naughty. I know he’s twisted me round his little finger, but at least he’s made an effort to woo me in style. It’s flattering. Head-turning, in fact.
‘I’ll book tomorrow and let you know the details.’
With that he swings out of the restaurant and leaves me there feeling both elated and terrified. I think I might have just joined the jet set.
I look round and see my friend’s eyes locked on me. Oh, bum. I’ve no idea how I’m going to break it to Charlie.
Chapter Twenty-Eight