‘Sure,’ he replied with a shrug.
Oh … that wasn’t as enthusiastic a response as she was hoping for. Maybe it was disappointment. She was finding it hard to read him.
Nell finished her dinner with Harry making chit-chat about his job as an IT consultant and his newfound love of Swallowtail Bay. She was pleased to hear his mum was on the mend since her operation. ‘This place is great, Nell. I can see why you might not want to leave. I watched the most stunning sunset the other night. I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean the skyline of New York is something special but the colours here are incredible – yellows, oranges, pinks, purples – amazing.’
‘The colours are spectacular here,’ Nell agreed as they pushed their plates aside. It was time for dessert, and she grabbed the pecan pie and served them both a slice. Normally a chocolate girl, it was nicer than she expected. Harry enjoyed it too. ‘You know, I travel a lot, Nell and you’re different to every other hotelier I’ve met. You’re special.’ He waved his dessert fork at her. ‘Don’t ever forget that. I mean, how many would have done something like this for their one and only guest?’
Nell spooned some pudding into her mouth in stunned silence. Was she special? She’d never really felt that special deep down inside. In truth, as exciting as the idea of being whisked away to New York was, even if it involved romantic airport scenes, she really did love Swallowtail Bay and her little hotel. Times were tough right now but with everything she was doing there was no way this funk could last forever. Tom had been saying that for ages, she thought, and she suddenly pictured the way he pushed his hair back from his face. Always on the right side, never the left.
Glancing around, she saw Mr Scrooge settled by the fire. There’d been no calls about him yet and she found herself relieved. If the opportunity arose, which it seemed it had from Harry’s subtle invitations, could she really bring herself to leave? In her dreams, she’d imagined feeling different in this situation. Instead of unmitigated excitement and longing to be with handsome, sweet Harry, an uncertainty was growing in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t explain.
When dinner ended, they settled into the lounge. The room was beautifully warm and cosy with the fire burning and music playing, and Nell tapped her foot and hummed along. After a coffee and a lull in conversation, Harry stood up.
‘Come on, best hostess in Britain. Let’s dance.’
Fizzing with excitement, Nell stood, and he took her in his arms, twirling her around the lounge in between the tables. He was a really good dancer and there was no awkward shuffling or stepping on each other’s toes. It felt so incredibly special and more romantic than anything else she’d experienced. Allowing every sense to be immersed in the moment, her confused thoughts vanished, and with her hand on a strong bicep she felt giddy and light. As the song ended, he pulled her in and dipped her. She met his eye and refused to look away letting him know of the attraction growing inside her, but he simply drew her back up. Still standing, Harry gave a great yawn.
‘I am exhausted. I think I’ll head to bed. Thanks for a great Thanksgiving. It’s been amazing. It felt like home from home.’
‘Oh, you’re welcome.’ Surprised at his sudden wish to leave, Nell didn’t really know what else to say. Harry walked up to her and gave her a peck on the cheek. She could smell his aftershave and enjoyed the feel of his lips on her skin, but once again she wasn’t feeling quite how she thought she would.
‘Good night, Nell.’ Harry gathered the coat he’d abandoned when he walked in before heading up the stairs to his room.
With a huff at the rather abrupt end to the evening, Nell headed back into the dining room to clear up the remains of their feast. Instead of wholly romantic, the evening had been strange and confusing. He’d asked her to visit him in New York, hadn’t he? That must mean something, but when she said she couldn’t come till New Year he’d not seemed bothered at all. Nell knew she had to stop her brain going into overdrive. It often coloured her interpretation of reality and left her disappointed when things didn’t go quite how she’d imagined they would. Once again, reality hadn’t measured up to her hopes. Worst of all, she had a feeling it was something to do with her. Something she was doing, or not doing.
Stacking the dirty plates and serving dishes, she made her way to the basement kitchen. Turning on the tap and piling the dishes in the sink, she wished her brain would include all the practical bits as well as the romantic ones. If it did, it would have imagined the amount of washing up she had to do. In which case, she’d have suggested they eat out.
Chapter 16
The next day, as the late afternoon sun shone bright and low in the sky,
