‘Nothing really, bit of paperwork.’ Nice save, Rebecca. Cupcake empire boss vibes. Not reading about a hot vet whilst ignoring the competition entry forms that were now stashed in her bedside drawer, taunting her silently. You won’t enter, and Mum won’t listen. ‘Food out sounds nice actually. Dutch, of course.’
Luke rolled his eyes, taking a deep slurp of his tea. ‘Fab, pick you up at seven, then. You need a hand with the lounge stuff?’ He’d already tidied up, there were only the packages ready for Saturday stacked up. They could wait.
‘Pick me up?’ She shook her head at his offer of help. She didn’t want to cram them all into her room, they could stay there for now. She could get Hans to collect them before the big day, keep them stashed. ‘Where did you have in mind?’
‘There’s a great place on resort apparently. Hans was telling some of the customers about it, have you been? Top notch, he reckons.’
Rebecca was already making a face. She knew exactly where he meant. She’d been there before, many times. Being schmoozed and celebrated. ‘I have a place, a better one. Trust me.’
Luke frowned, but he didn’t argue.
‘Well, that’s decided then. See you at seven?’ He looked at her for confirmation, and she realised that she was nervous. Her stomach flipped at the thought of going out with him. This isn’t good Rebecca, come on. He’s leaving soon. You have to get your life together. Crushing on a passing hot nerd is not part of the plan. Besides, he annoys you, remember?
‘See you then,’ she said and he left to go to his room. Minutes later, she heard the bathroom door close, and the shower turn on. He was getting ready. Looking at the bags she had left to unpack, she picked them up and headed to her own room. Holly was right, she couldn’t answer the question about whether or not she liked Luke. Not to Holly, but now she couldn’t really deny it to herself any longer. He hadn’t been here a week, it had been what, three days? She was already interested in what he had to say and why he was here, and she knew it went deeper than just wanting to get the clumsy northerner out of her home, and out of her life. He was growing on her. It’s not every man that would sit making up games and favour bags for a baby shower. The fact that he didn’t know what a nappy cake was had made her laugh, but before long his technical brain had kicked in and he was designing structure ideas and colour schemes from what she had brought. The man was like a wedding planner, but looked like a GQ model. She’d had so much fun, till she’d realised that unlike everything else in her regimented sheltered life, it was temporary. He would do what he came to do, and leave. Just like everyone else around here. They came to visit and went home. She should be used to it, but right now she couldn’t help feeling just a little sense of panic. Closing her bedroom door behind her, she pulled out the outfits she’d splurged on in town. There was a nice little clothing boutique there that didn’t treat her any differently than they did when she shopped there before … well, just before. They always made her feel welcome. Comfortable. She could try things on there without getting a complex about flashing a scar, or catching someone spotting one of her flaws. She felt like enough of those were on show already.
‘Not seen you for a while Rebecca! How’s the café?’
Francesca, the owner, had just been seeing a customer out as Rebecca had entered the shop, the tinkle of the bell making her feel instantly at home. It was like a front room, rather than a clothing shop. A sewing machine sat off to one corner, storage boxes full of ribbons, zips, and tiny pearl buttons.
‘Not bad,’ she said as the customer smiled and left, bags in hand. They were alone. ‘Except for my houseguest.’
Fran’s eyes bulged, and her smirk was positively devilish. ‘I heard. Luke, isn’t it? How’s that going? You beaten him to death with a hand mixer yet?’ Her French accent curled her words beautifully. Even hand mixer sounded sexy when it rolled off her tongue. She was effortlessly chic, but not aware of it at all. She could turn heads as she entered a room, but she would be more interested in checking out the quality of the fabric in the curtains, and how a seam on a dress didn’t look right from across the room. Confident in her own skin, like most people were. Even Luke. He knew who he was, but he still wanted to push himself. That was the thing Rebecca missed. The impetus to try again, to care about getting a different outcome.
‘Not quite. He’s … interesting.’
‘Interesting? Explain. Oh, and I have a nice little outfit for you in the back. I’ve been saving it for when you came.’ She toddled off, raising a hand behind her at Rebecca. ‘Don’t worry either, it’s not from a designer. It’s off the rail. My rail, actually. I have a couple that would look great on you.’
‘How did you know I wanted some new clothes?’
Francesca turned around on one heel, like a ballet dancer, and eyed her up close. Rebecca came to a screeching halt, colliding boob to boob with Fran, who didn’t flinch. ‘You came to me. I’ve seen him, you know, Holly showed me his photo. It didn’t take a genius to work out that your horrible sweatpants were suddenly going to be an issue.’
‘Hey! I don’t always dress like that.’ She totally did. ‘I don’t all the time, anyway.’
‘No,’ Fran countered. ‘The rest of the
