Page 55 of One for the Road
“Jess likes to keep it classic.”
“Maybe you should put together a taste-test, really show her what you’ve got. If these were behind the counter, no way people would be lining down the street for an overpriced cupcake.”
“I appreciate the solidarity, but I don’t think I can compete with gold-leaf accents.”
Heather looked ready to argue, but Emily tugged at her shirt. “Mummy, can we take Teddy to the ribbon stall so she can get one too?”
“Sure, sweetie.” Heather looked to me. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Please, Mummy, please.” Teddy squeezed her hands beneath her chin.
“Of course, let me grab some money.” I’d have to give her the emergency ten-pound note in my purse.
“I’ve got it,” Alistair said, already pulling out his wallet and handing Heather a folded note. Teddy jumped down the van steps with an excited, “Bye Mummy, bye Ali.”
“I’ll take them to get some snacks too. You guys must be starving,” she said to the girls, throwing us a wink as she left, no doubt thinking she was doing us a favour by giving us alone time.
I hated lying to her. Still, I smiled as I watched them walk away. When Ava slid her arm through Teddy’s, emotion clogged my throat.
The Macabes were good people.
Would Heather still think I was a good person if she knew I was lying to her face? Even if it hadn’t been my idea, I was fully in this now. Just as guilty.
“Lay it on me, then,” Alistair said as soon as they were out of sight.
“What?” I scrubbed at a spot on the counter with a rag.
“You’re pulling your angry face.”
What?“I don’t have an angry face.”
“It’s subtle, but you get this little vein down the centre of your forehead.” He indicated the spot with his finger.
“No, I don’t.” I brushed my hand over it, but he knocked it away.
“You do. It’s cute.”
Cute. What the hell did that mean?
I felt like a sixteen-year-old girl again, trying to read between the lines of the lyrics my crush posted as his social media status.
I hadn’t even imagined Alistair kept a sentiment like “cute” in his vocabulary. It was hardly the come-on of the century, but still, the words were like a dog whistle to the affection-starved corner of my brain.
I’d expected something more clinical.Your bonestructure is anatomically sound. You know, something romantic.
“I already told you; I hate lying to your family.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it.”
“How could you possibly know?”
“Because none of my siblings would give a shit as long as we were both happy—”
We got cut off by a sudden rush of customers, who were mostly tourists craving their morning caffeine-and-sugar fix. The sudden crowd grew. Alistair started working a separate queue, serving a family who ordered an entire box of salted dark-chocolate cookies.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“Helping.” He reached across me for the tongs, his fingers brushing the back of my hand. Antiseptic and mint filled my nose. I lined my lungs with it, even as I stepped back. My hip bumped into the coffee machine, knocking the stack of fresh take away cups to the floor.
