Page 22 of Counting Down To You

“You know Cal?”

He shrugs. “Sure, inasmuch as he’s helped me with staff the last few years. I’ve never actually met him.” Which means that Cal knows Leo—even only a little. Interesting.

“I’m here for a month,” I say in answer to his question, though he must know this. “I’m on sabbatical from work.”

“So you came to work somewhere else?” His tone is wry, almost skeptical.

“I like being busy,” I say, trying and failing not to sound defensive. And it’s true. Despite everything that’s happened in the first few days, I still think I’m better off here than trying to avoid my flatmate at home, or trying to avoid both my mum’s questions and my brother in Kent. It’s definitely better than sitting and doing nothing. So, busy is good.

As we turn the corner to the front of the hotel, I place a hand on Leo’s arm to stop him. It’s so solid, even under his coat. Which is a stupid thing to notice. Of course it’s solid—it’s a bloody arm.

He looks down at me and I clear my throat. “Look, this whole thing…” I remove my hand from his arm, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was just wondering…” Get a grip, Ali. “Maybe we should have the whole rules conversation?” And maybe I should learn to sound less tentative.

His eyebrows pull together. “Rules conversation?”

“Yes,” I say, trying to sound surer of myself. “You know, about…” I gesture between us, though he still looks confused. “Like, what is and isn’t expected between us. What we say to people if they ask questions. What we, you know, let them see.” My cheeks heat a little, though I think it’s too dark for him to notice. Are you planning to kiss me again? is what I want to ask. Because, even if it’s only on the cheek, it’s better to be prepared.

He’s still just looking at me. “I just…” I didn’t think this through and now I’m wondering what to do about that.

“Can’t we just let everyone believe what they want to believe?” He sounds genuinely baffled. “Not all relationships have to be on show. Surely if you say you’re dating someone, people will believe it.”

Then why did you want us to arrive together? I don’t ask that, though. Instead, I say, “Well, I mean not if we say different things when people ask questions about it.”

He shrugs. “No one’s asked me anything.”

I can’t help snorting.

“What?” he asks.

“I don’t think that’s because they’re not interested,” I say mildly. Because he’s a little intimidating, isn’t he? And not because he’s in charge. He just has that kind of presence. Like you want to be around him but don’t want to get too close. A good quality in a manager, perhaps—approachable enough but not too approachable.

He frowns again. “They’ve been asking you?”

I raise my eyebrows. “I thought you said you knew how gossip worked around here.”

He runs a hand through his hair, little tufts of it sticking up. “What do we need to decide?”

I hesitate. “I suppose how long we’ve been dating would be a good start?”

He considers this. “It would be useful to me if we’d been dating a while.”

I bite my lip. “I sort of said we met recently.”

“You did?”

“Hence the reason I brought it up.”

A corner of his mouth turns up. “People don’t use ‘hence’ enough in conversation, do they?” Then, before I can reply to that, “Recently can be subjective. What if we met last year, but things only just got serious?”

Last year? There’s got to be a reason he’s suggesting that. Is it only to do with his so-called reputation—or is it something else? I think about the questions I was asked in the hotel kitchen earlier today. He didn’t move back last year to be with you?

“How serious?” I ask, because he’s waiting for a reply.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly well versed in serious relationships to be honest.”

I have a bit of a reputation.

Okay, then. Maybe this works in my favor, actually. If we’re already established, then we’re out of the touchy-feely honeymoon stage. Although I should probably at least know what his favorite color is, if that’s the case.