Page 25 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye

“You won’t. You’ll be great!” Tarquin stuffed his fingers into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out his wallet. “Leia, please—I’ll get this.”

“No, it’s the least I can do. Seriously.” Punching in her PIN, the machine’s electronic beeps pierced the silence growing between them.

Three hours gone in a blink. Tarquin’s chest tightened. He tucked his wallet away as the machine spit out her receipt like a petulant child sticking out his tongue. “Cheers,” he said quietly, hoping she’d change her mind and suggest dessert somewhere, but she thanked the waiter and stuffed the curled piece of paper in her wallet. Tarquin didn’t budge or reach for his suit jacket and coat, holding on to every last second of their time together.

A bright smile flashed across her cheeks. “I really like Simon.” She picked up her phone and tapped its screen. “Now I have a friend here in the business—all thanks to you.”

“My pleasure.” Tarquin nodded and swallowed heavily, the ache in his chest rising into his throat, cutting off his breath. I thought—hoped—this would be the beginning of something, not the end. We get along, right? We laughed, flirted. Shared stories—well, I did…

She slid her arms into her parka. “I’d offer to share a taxi, but I think we’re going in different directions?”

“Yeah, we are, but it’s fine, really.” He rose from the bench and reunited with his suit jacket and his coat, hanging on the back of his chair. “I’ll walk for a bit. Get some air.”

She stood up, looping her purse over her shoulder. “I had fun tonight.”

Does she mean it, though? “Me too.” He walked ahead of her through the thinning crowd and held open the door, the dank evening chill of a now rainy London mirroring his mood. An idling car offered a dry escape.

“Oh, that’s my ride—perfect timing.” A puff of breath left Leia’s lips. “Can I drop you somewhere?” She opened the door and scooted in. “You can’t walk. You’ll get soaked.”

Tarquin ducked his head, hiding from the pelting rain. “Ah, thanks, but I’m all right.” ASK HER—before you drown! He squinted into the warm car, the storm’s cold deluge trickling down his neck and saturating his scarf. “Leia, can I see you again? Take you for dinner or a film? I promise, not Star Wars.”

“Um.” She paused, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Sure. We could…hang out again. Soon, yeah?”

Hang out? So… not a date? He stepped back and swallowed his surprise. No, of course not. She pulled away in the pub—twice.

“Look…” Leia fumbled in her bag, unearthing a compact umbrella. “Take this.” Her jaw tensed as her gaze flitted down his soon-to-be sopping coat. “I’ll call you?”

I’ll call you… How many times have I said that, knowing I never would? That’s karma kicking you in the bollocks, mate. Tarquin accepted the umbrella. “Sure, okay.” He nodded, a shiver racing up his wet back. “Get home safe.” He pushed the door closed, on their night and on his heart.

Seven

LEIA

Sarah tugged on her black wheelchair gloves. “Leia, are you coming or not?” She wiped her brow, her skin pink and perspiring beneath the wintery layers of her blue wooly hat and scarf and her long navy parka. “It’s almost twenty to nine! I know I start late on Thursdays, but this is pushing it—I have my presentation, remember?”

“Sorry!” Leia dropped her toothbrush in the cup beside the bathroom sink and grabbed her journal, balancing on the edge of the bathtub. She scribbled the third entry across Wednesday’s page.

January 2, I was grateful for:

1. getting the Met interview.

2. Simon’s offer to use his workroom.

3. flirting with Tarquin!

She bit her cheek. Should I call him, though? Or leave it? Stuffing her pen inside the journal’s cover, she zipped it closed and hurried into the hall. “Oh, I don’t know,” she mumbled, shaking her head as she yanked her chunky sweater’s hem over the waist of her jeans.

“Don’t know what?”

“Nothing.” Leia snatched her oversized tote and dropped her journal inside where it joined her laptop, sewing tools, a homemade lunch, and another bag of ketchup potato chips for Simon.

“Ley, why don’t you fill in your journal before bed?” Sarah wheeled forward and gripped the door handle with her right hand then quickly pulled backward on the rear left wheel’s hand rim, her momentum yanking the door open. A burst of chilly morning air surged down the hallway. “Aren’t you supposed to take your time with it?”

Says Ms. Impatient. “You could wait until I’ve got my coat on!” Leia clenched her jaw and stuffed her feet in her ankle boots, giving each zipper a sharp tug. She’s already outside. Jeez, what’s one more minute? “I fell asleep making notes for my interview last night. I had to finish this morning.” She grabbed her garment bag from the waist-high coat hooks near the door.

Out on the walkway, Sarah looked over her shoulder and grumbled under her breath. “Always running late.” A frown pinched her lips. “You were talking in your sleep again last night, by the way. Mumbling like mad.”

Yeah, probably telling you off for taking my denim skirt again without asking. Leia filled her arms with her parka and scarf and followed her sister outside. “I woke up around one. I’d missed Dad’s text saying he’d landed, so I called him.” She slammed the door, locking it. “We ended up talking until two or so. You must be happy. He thinks Jordan’s great.”