Page 30 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye

Simon caught Leia’s furrowed brow and jumped in. “Alex and Mark split for a few months last year. Don’t ask—it’s complicated! That’s when she dated Tarquin, but the status quo has resumed—Alex is back with her soul mate Mark, and Tarquin’s playing the field again. Harry jokes it’s ‘what he does best’.” Simon picked up his tea and flashed her a knowing smirk. “But, hey, don’t let that put you off!”

Leia half-laughed, playing innocent. “Oh, I’m not looking to…you know.”

“Leia”—Simon paused above the lip of his cup—“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong if you were.”

• • •

Walking to Hackney Central station, Leia squeezed her phone, cursing the non-stop flutters in her stomach. This feels like I’m thirteen, calling a boy for the first time. Shouldn’t this be easier? It’s not a date-date. It’s just sex—if I haven’t put him off me, blowing hot and cold… She stopped at the traffic light, a parade of red double-decker buses loaded with rush-hour travelers creeping along congested Mare Street. Stop thinking. Just call him! Tapping his contact details, she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Leia! How are you?” Cheery and warm, he answered on the second ring. No beer glasses clinking, no loud laughter—Tarquin was still at work.

Leia pictured him, a commanding presence in his perfectly tailored suit behind a slim laptop, a large coffee and important papers keeping him company on his stark desk. “I’m good. I’m just heading home from Simon’s.”

“Oh, you went? Good!”

Simon didn’t text him? That’s good, I guess. “Yeah, I started a prom dress today.” Get to it! The traffic signal blinked green, and she followed the crowd across the street. “So, how’s your day been? How many coffees did you need?” She scrunched her nose. Chicken! You are your own worst enemy.

He chuckled. “Ah, it’s been good—a two-coffee day. I visited an old cinema I’m repurposing into a climbing gym and had two property go-sees—I put in an offer on one, a gorgeous old church. I think we might turn it into a performance space.” He paused.

Is he waiting to say something? Waiting for me?

Tarquin cleared his throat. “I guess you’re calling about your umbrella? I can drop—”

“No, that’s…I’m—sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.” Leia stopped behind a pillar advertising sneakers from Sports Now and did a double take. His dad’s company. Rubbing her temple, she blurted, “I’m calling about Somerset House.” Smooth, Leia, really smooth. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh? Uh, okay…”

She scuffed the sidewalk with her boot. “You know their ice rink, the one with DJs and cocktails?”

“I do. It’s not Christmas in London without it.”

“Right! Well, I’m going to check it out before it’s gone. Would you like to go Saturday night?” As friends with benefits. Hopefully.

He didn’t answer right away. “This Saturday?” His tone dipped.

Shit. He’s got plans. “Uh, yeah.” She blew out a breath. “Look, I’m sorry. Here I am, calling last minute—again.”

“No, no! It’s okay. I was supposed to see a film with Harry and Lucy but…plans got cancelled.” Through the phone, his voice carried a hint of a smile, coaxing the butterflies in Leia’s belly into a full-on frenzy. “I’d like to see it too—before it’s gone.”

“Great! How ’bout you meet me at eight by the Christmas tree? I’m guessing it’ll still be up.”

“I’ll be there! I’ll be the Scott Moir to your Tessa Virtue.”

How does he—? Leia raised her eyebrows. “You’re a skating fan?”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a sucker for cute Canadian ice dancers!” Tarquin chuckled. “What? You’re surprised?”

“Well, yeah. You’re British…and a guy.”

He laughed harder. “I’m a guy full of surprises, Ginger Spice. Just you wait and see.”

Eight

TARQUIN

Frantic blades chipped the ice, spraying snow into the air. No! Not again! Not… “Fuck!” Toppling sideways, Tarquin slammed shoulder-first into the waist-high plexiglass barrier hugging the Somerset House rink. Ow—ch! He slipped, landing with a thud on the unforgiving ice. Oh, mate! Fuuuck. He sucked in a stifled breath, his leather gloves clutching his arm and ribs. I thought this would be a lot easier. Bugger. I must really like this woman, risking my neck and arse like this. Climbing was never this tricky! Sitting up on his knees, he brushed snow from his coat’s sleeve for the third time while the large illuminated letters spelling S K A T E above the south wing of Somerset House silently mocked him. Oh, shut it! I’m trying!

“Mate, you okay?” An orange-bibbed rink employee barely out of puberty bent down and extended a gloved hand.