kind of him to round off her time at Breedon & Son by taking her out, when all was said and done. So…no more griping. Get yourself in there and be bright and sparkling, and leave him with a smile when the time comes.
When Gina walked back into the dining area the sight of him caused her breath to catch in her throat, but then it always did. Which was at best annoying and worst embarrassing—like the time she had been eating a hot sausage-roll in the work canteen and had choked, until Natalie had slapped her on the back so hard she’d thought her spine had snapped in two.
She arrived at the table just as the waitress brought their main course, which was good timing. She could bury herself in the food to some extent, she thought, sliding into her seat and returning his smile. At least he was smiling now. He’d looked thoroughly irritated with her when she had left, and she couldn’t altogether blame him.
‘More wine?’ He was refilling her glass as he spoke, and Gina didn’t protest. She needed something to help her get through the evening without making a complete fool of herself, and in the absence of anything else alcohol would do. Although, that was flawed thinking, she told herself in the next moment. The wine was more likely to prompt her to do or say something silly.
Warning herself to go steady, she took a small sip and then tried the tagliatelle. It was delicious. The best she had ever tasted. Deciding that she was definitely a girl who would eat for comfort rather than pine away, she tucked in.
By the time the main course was finished, Gina had discovered that you could laugh and really mean it, even if your heart was on the verge of being broken. Harry seemed to put himself out to be the perfect dinner companion after their earlier blip, producing one amusing story after another, and displaying the wicked wit which had bowled her over in the first days of their acquaintance. Back then she had desperately been seeking a way to make him notice her as a woman; now that strain was taken off her shoulders at least. He saw her as a friend, and only as a friend, and she’d long since accepted it.
She chose pistachio meringue with fresh berries for dessert, and it didn’t fail to live up to expectations. She didn’t think she’d eat for a week after this evening, and she said so as she licked the last morsel of meringue off her spoon.
Harry grinned, his eyes following her pink tongue. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. If I’d thought I could have introduced you to this place months ago.’
If he had thought. Quite. ‘I’m glad you didn’t. I’d be two stone heavier by now.’
‘You could have taken your parents’ dogs for a few extra walks and worked off the pounds,’ he said easily.
‘There speaks someone who’s never had to diet.’ Why would he? The man was perfect.
‘Do you—have to diet, I mean?’
A bit personal, but she’d brought it on herself. Gina nodded. ‘My sisters—wouldn’t you just know?—follow after my dad, and he’s a tall streak of nothing. My mother on the other hand is like me. We go on a diet every other week, but just as regularly fall by the wayside. My mum blames my dad for her lapses. She says he gives her no incentive because he likes her to be what he calls “cuddly”.’ She grimaced.
‘I’m with your father.’
Gina smiled wryly.
‘I mean it.’
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Purposely changing the subject, she said, ‘Thank you for a lovely meal, Harry. I’ve really enjoyed it. It was a nice way to end my time at Breedon & Son.’
He seemed to digest that for a few seconds. ‘It’ll be odd, coming into work each day and you not being there.’
Be still, my foolish heart. She forced a smile. ‘I think you’ll find Susan a more than adequate replacement. She’s very keen.’ In more ways than one.
‘I guess so.’
He didn’t sound overly impressed, and Gina’s heart jumped for joy before she reminded herself it meant nothing. If it wasn’t Susan it would be someone else. Her voice even, she said, ‘It’ll all work out fine. Things always do, given time.’ Except me and you.
‘I think we’re both long enough in the tooth to know that’s not true,’ he said drily. ‘It goes hand in hand with accepting there’s no Santa Clause.’ He cleared his throat, his heavily lashed eyes intent on her face. ‘Look, this is none of my business, and tell me to go to blazes if you want, but is this decision to leave Yorkshire anything to do with your personal life?’
She stared at him.
‘You know what I mean,’ he said after a moment. ‘A man. Has a relationship ended unhappily, something like that? Because, if that’s the reason, running away won’t necessarily improve your state of mind.’
Panic stricken, she opened her mouth to deny it before logic stepped in. He had no idea the man in question was him, and if nothing else confirming his suspicions would work to her advantage. One, he’d have to accept she had a concrete reason for moving away, and two, it would explain her reluctance to visit in the future.
‘I’m right, aren’t I? Someone has let you down.’
After their earlier conversation, she couldn’t bear the idea of Harry thinking she’d been discarded like an old sock. Stiffly, she said, ‘It’s not like that. I made the decision to end the relationship and move away.’
His eyes narrowed. She recognised the look on his face. It was one he adopted when he wouldn’t take no for an answer on some business deal or other. It was this formidably tenacious streak in his nature that had seen Breedon & Son go from strength to strength in the last year since he’d come home. And that was great on a business level. Just dandy. It was vastly different when that acutely discerning mind was homed in on her, though. Recognising the wisdom of the old adage that pride went before a fall, she said quickly, ‘It wasn’t going anywhere, that’s all. End of story.’
‘What do you mean, not going anywhere? You’re obviously upset enough about the finish of it to move away from your family and friends, your whole life,’ he finished, somewhat dramatically for him. Then he added suddenly, ‘He’s not married, is he?’
‘Excuse me?’ It was a relief to hide behind outrage. ‘I have never, and would never, get involved with someone else’s husband.’
‘No, of course you wouldn’t.’ He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I know that, really I do. But what went wrong, then?’
Gina wondered if she could end this conversation with a few well-chosen words along the lines that he should mind his own business. But this was Harry she was dealing with. He was like one of those predatory fish of the Caribbean she’d read about recently: once it seized hold on something, it couldn’t let go even if it wanted to. ‘A common scenario,’ she said as lightly as she could manage. ‘He was content to jog along as we were indefinitely. I wanted more.’
He looked shocked. ‘Did he know how much you cared for him?’
That was rich, coming from the man who—if office gossip was to be believed—discarded girlfriends like cherry stones once he’d enjoyed their fruit. Talk about a case of the pot calling the kettle black! Gina shrugged, keeping her voice steady and unemotional when she said, ‘That’s not really the point. We wanted different things for the future, that’s all. I was ready
