Page 35 of Counting Down To You

“There are a lot of British people at the hotel,” I muse, thinking of Charlotte. “The staff, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Lucie takes a sip of her cider. Cider is not the drink I would have picked for her. I’m not sure what, exactly, I’d have picked—maybe something bitter yet stylish, like a negroni. “The hotel’s owned by a British couple. Happens a lot round here—the nationalities get sort of…grouped…depending on who’s doing the hiring.”

Sounds kind of weird to me, given they are in France, but what do I know? “How long have you been here?” I ask Lucie.

“This year since the start of November. But I was here last year too.” Which is when she’d formed her opinion of Leo, presumably. “I’d have stayed over the summer, but they cut way back on staff so I spent the summer working at a hotel on Crete.”

“Wow,” I say, wondering what it must have been like to spend a whole summer on a Greek island and if it was anything like Mamma Mia! “That sounds amazing.”

“It was cool, yeah. I mean, it’s all cool, isn’t it? Getting to travel this way.” She takes another sip of cider, sighs. A different kind of sigh this time, almost wistful. “I love it,” she says, almost like an admission.

“Crete?”

“No, all of it. I love working in hotels, I love that I get to travel and don’t have to spend any money while I do. Some people don’t love the industry and I get that—it’s long hours and it can be tough. But I really do. You get to meet interesting people. I love the family you can build in most places, and I like being a part of making memories for people.” She takes another gulp of cider. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s nearly finished her pint that’s making her open up like this. “There are shit parts, sure,” she continues, “and maybe it won’t be forever, but for a few years at least…” She looks me direct in the eye. “I want to make manager. And if I do that, then it’s a transferable skill anyway, isn’t it? So when I get fed up of traveling around, I can use it elsewhere.”

“That’s true,” I agree. I wonder if that’s why Lucie is telling me this—that she resents Leo because he’s manager, maybe? Or maybe I’m being harsh. Maybe she’s just making conversation. I can’t help comparing it to the way I think about recruitment. Did I ever have this kind of passion? I used to enjoy it, that much I’m sure of. I found purpose in it, and I do sort of get Lucie’s comment on family, because haven’t Farah and Cal proven they’re here for me? But since Robyn died—and possibly before, if I’m being honest with myself—trying to muster up enthusiasm to keep doing the job day in, day out, has become a lot harder.

Lucie lifts her pint glass to her lips then stops, glancing at the doorway. With her back to the room, I have to turn to see what she’s looking at.

Leo. Leo is what she’s looking at. He’s walking into the bar, hands tucked into the pockets of his black ski jacket. I can’t help but watch him. It’s not wrong that I find him attractive, is it? It’s a simple observation, that’s all. Because I’m watching him, I see the way his gaze bounces around the room, acknowledging a few cries of “Brooks!” before snagging on the table I’m sitting at. On me.

Lucie slides her gaze over to me, and heat rises in my cheeks. Why am I blushing, for Christ’s sake?

“I didn’t invite him to join us,” I say quickly. Lucie hasn’t accused me of that, but I hate that, when people invite their partners along to friend drinks without checking beforehand.

Lucie gives a shrug of acceptance as Leo crosses over to us, his eyes still on me. It would look odd, though, wouldn’t it, if he didn’t come over to greet me. I crane my neck to look up at him as he comes to a stop by the table, bringing with him the fresh scent of the outdoors, along with that spicy undertone that’s all him. Should I get up and hug him, or is that overkill?

Before I can make the decision, he smiles. “Hey.” He bends down and kisses me lightly on the cheek. I’m more prepared for it this time, but that doesn’t stop the prickling down my spine, or the way all my focus goes to that one point where his lips met my skin.

“Hey!” I really need to be less high pitched.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” he says, nodding politely at Lucie. “I’m just popping in for a quick one, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Okay!” Stop sounding like that, Ali. “I’ll, umm, see you at home, then?” I’m too aware of Lucie, watching the interaction between us.

The corners of his mouth quirk up. I can’t help wondering what he’d look like, if he ever gave in to a full smile. “Sure.”

I try to act normal as Leo heads to the bar, turning firmly so I’m looking at Lucie and not him. Lucie, however, has a hint of her scowl back in place as she watches him retreat. To be fair, it’s more of a contemplative scowl this time, but still.

I bite my lip. “Will you tell me why it is you don’t like him?”

Lucie snorts in a way that is clearly supposed to indicate yeah, right. But she runs her gaze over my face almost thoughtfully. “But I’ll get us another round and then I’ll explain why I didn’t like you at first, if you like.”

“Oh, goody,” I say drily, “that sounds like fun.”

Lucie laughs, and I find I like the sound of it. It reminds me a bit of Robyn. Lucie is nothing like Robyn, of course, but the laugh…God, I miss that laugh.

I try not to keep glancing behind me while Lucie is gone. Try not to watch Leo leaning against the bar, chatting to a couple of guys there. Try not to wonder why he doesn’t look over at me. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. I’m overthinking the whole thing—that’s all. I don’t even know him, for Christ’s sake.

I reach back for my coat, hanging on the chair behind me, and fumble in the pocket for my headphones. I’m not sure whether I would have given in to the urge to listen to Robyn’s audiobook, just for a minute, because Lucie comes back to the table with two more pints.

She sets the beer in front of me. “So where were we?” Lucie asks as she slides onto the bench opposite. “Oh yes. I was going to tell you why I’ve been such a bitch.”

I snort a laugh, though inside I squirm. “Do I definitely want to hear this?”

“Not sure. Let’s find out, shall we?” She takes a sip of her cider as if to prepare herself. “So, the thing is, I wanted the GRM role.”

“Ah.” This, I feel, I should have guessed.