Page 55 of Third Time’s a Charm

“I know you said you wanted a bit of space, but could I come in, just for a minute?”

Space was actually the last thing I wanted. What I wanted was for us to talk things through. Figure out a way this could work. Or at least try.

What I didn’t want, couldn’t do, was to listen to all the reasons why not.

“Sure.” I start, wishing I’d learned earlier in life it was okay to say no. Then realise I’m in nothing but wet swimmers and a damp bathrobe. “Maybe, could you give me a few minutes to get dressed?”

“Oh, of course.” Jasper waves his hand. “Why don’t you, ah, knock on my door when you’re ready. We could talk in my room?” He gestures towards his door.

“Okay. See you shortly.” He steps aside and hovers until my door clicks open, then disappears towards his room.

What does this even mean? And what should I wear?

I hurtle into the bathroom, pulling off my robe and wet swimmers, which I hang in the wet area, then throw open my suitcase.

We’re further south now, so it’s colder than early on in the trip, so I pull on fresh underwear—yes, the lacy ones, don’t judge—jeans and my favourite pink jumper, that Mum says clashes with my hair but Lil says is stunning. It’s soft and clingy without being overly sexy and too try-hard.

I don’t want to take the time to dry my hair, so I blot out as much water as I can with a towel and twist it into a loose plait.

Make-up would look too contrived, so I content myself with a swipe of lip balm and hope the minerals from the hot springs have worked their magic on my skin.

Sliding my feet into a pair of clogs, I grab my access card. I’m about to race out the door when I realise I might have been too quick. Do I want him to know how anxious I am to have a conversation with him? I pause. Count to ten. Allow my racing heart to calm.

It doesn’t help.

Then, with measured steps, I leave my suite and knock quietly on Jasper’s door.

He looks as nervous as I am as he ushers me into the suite, past the bed and down to the sofa in front of the fire.

I wince as I notice the rose petals on the bed and the champagne in the ice bucket.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess housekeeping didn’t get the message you weren’t a honeymooner.” I’d like to sink through the floor. “They have a corporate retreat here, so this was the only room left.”

If he thinks I had anything to do with the petals or the champagne, I’ll be mortified. Change my name and move to another country level mortified.

Jasper laughs, although it’s very half-hearted.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it was just a miscommunication.” He hesitates. “But since they’ve gone to so much trouble, would you like a glass?”

I would. But that’s not a good idea. So I shake my head and move to the window to pretend I’m admiring the view. He comes to stand beside me, close but not touching. Our faces reflect in the glass in front of us. Both nervous. Serious.

Jasper clears his throat. Runs a hand through his hair. Opens and closes his mouth several times before he speaks.

“I’m sorry I gave you the impression I wanted to … didn’t want to continue … ah, fuck.” He turns and pins me with his blue gaze. “I don’t want to go back to being colleagues. Or work friends. Or whatever we were before. I know it’s complicated. I know it won’t be easy. But what happened between us, well, I wasn’t alone, was I?”

He must surely be able to hear my heart pounding. I turn to face him. I don’t think I’ll get words past the lump in my throat. I shake my head and his shoulders loosen a little. His face relaxes.

“The last thing I want is to compromise you. No. That’s not right. The last thing I want is to walk away without giving this a try. I’ll do my level best to make sure you’re not compromised. If you want to keep it entirely to ourselves until we work it out, I can do that. But I can’t walk away.” He hesitates. “Unless this is not what you want.”

All my life I’ve put what I want last. Been taught that what I need isn’t as important as what others need. That even to have needs and express them is unreasonable or greedy.

And here is this man telling me I can make a choice.

“Please say something.” Jasper attempts a smile.

“Maybe I would like some of that wine,” I rasp.

Without a word, Jasper grabs the bottle, pops the cork and hands me a glass. I knock it back in one gulp before setting the empty glass on the table and turning to face him.