A Summer to Remember. Victoria Cooke

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A Summer to Remember - Victoria Cooke

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Harry adds.

      ‘I kinda like that,’ Barney says.

      ‘When was it you say it happened?’ Harry says, ignoring Barney.

      ‘A few weeks ago.’

      Harry and Barney exchange glances and when they don’t elaborate, I sit confused for a minute. Then it hits me. All that talk about head-over-heels women and whatnot. They’re matchmakers, I bet he’d had a bad date that day and took his hatred of womankind out on me.

      ‘I do hope you only sent me there for the bikes.’ I give them a warning look.

      ‘Well, of course,’ Barney says, and in fairness he does look quite horrified at the thought.

      Harry shakes his head. ‘Ethan is a great guy. You just have to get to know him.’

      Barney rests his chin on his hands and smiles. ‘It’s as though his mother went to the gene-pool buffet when she was making him and had first dibs on all the good stuff.’ He puts on what I assume is supposed to be a female voice. ‘I’ll have a couple o’ those blue eyes, some sun-kissed skin and a chiselled jaw for this one.’ Harry giggles at Barney’s impression and it shows a side to him I hadn’t witnessed before. I swear, if these two were emojis, they’d have hearty eyes.

      ‘Looks aren’t everything.’

      ‘Well, I’ve never met a woman, or a man of that inclination, who didn’t swoon over Ethan before. You, Sam, are a tough nut to crack.’

      ‘I swear, if you were trying to play matchmaker …’ The thought still horrifies me.

      Barney and Harry shake their heads a little too quickly and I resist the urge to discreetly check my breath doesn’t smell.

      ‘Good. I would hate for our friendship to be over before it’s even started.’ I punctuate my stern words with a sip of my cocktail. ‘Mmm. This is nice. What is it?’

      ‘It’s a ginger Cosmo. Aren’t they yummy?’ Barney sounds excited. Like Dory the fish, it seems he’s already forgotten about my warning.

      ‘Sam …’ Barney suddenly sounds serious, and he glances at Harry warily. Harry shakes his head and tries to brush away whatever it is Barney wants to say.

      ‘What?’ I ask.

      Harry looks at Barney. ‘Do we need more drinks? I think we need more drinks.’ He stands up to walk to the bar.

      ‘What on earth is going on?’

      If the ocean was guilt, a huge wave has just slapped Barney in the face and drenched him. ‘We’ve invited some friends to join us tonight, that’s all.’ He sips his drink, but the slight rise to his eyebrows suggests it’s not a simple case of friends getting together.

      ‘Oh, okay. What friends?’ I hadn’t anticipated there would be people joining us and try my best to avoid giving any hint of the disappointment I feel at having to share company and make small talk with strangers.

      ‘There’s, Susie the cake girl, Blair the gift-store owner, Marty the coffee-shop guy, who we just invited because he overheard us talking about drinks, and then … Ethan the bike guy.’ He says the last bit even quicker than usual.

      ‘What?’ I groan. This is all I need. I suppose I could always talk to the others. I don’t have to speak to him.

      Harry returns with three more cocktails, different this time, and catches the disappointment on my face. ‘Ahh good, you told her Blair and Susie can’t make it. Don’t worry about being the only girl in our gang.’ Barney makes a cut-throat gesture at Harry to shut him up.

      I guess I can talk to Marty.

      He looks at Barney. ‘Oh, and I already told you Marty couldn’t make it.’ Barney’s face is a picture. ‘Oh, I didn’t.’

      ‘You know what, Ethan is your friend, and I am someone you’ve just met and kindly invited out. You’ve every right to invite your friend for drinks.’ I can be civilised.

      Barney seems to get a sudden whoosh of positive energy and sits upright. ‘Oh good, because he’s here.’

      My insides wither as he approaches our table. He’s smiling at Barney. It makes his face look weird, completely different in fact, like a light has come on. When he catches sight of me the light goes out. ‘You again,’ he says with disbelief.

      ‘Nice to see you too,’ I retort as he slides on to the bench opposite me.

      ‘Ethan, I got you a cocktail.’ Harry pushes his own glass over to Ethan, but Ethan’s eyes remain fixed on mine, even as he moves his hand to the drink and takes a sip. The golden light of the setting sun casts a glow across his face, illuminating him like an exhibit in a museum and his eyes shine like jewels.

      ‘Phew-ee, you could cut this tension with a knife,’ says Barney, flapping his hands around wildly. Ethan looks away, but his jaw is tense and the muscles twitch beneath his skin. My insides turn to lead. If he’s purposely trying to make me feel uncomfortable, it’s working and I can’t bear it. I’ll finish my drink and go.

      ‘Sorry, guys.’ Ethan’s face relaxes again. ‘I’ve just suffered an earful from her today.’ He nods at me as Barney and Harry, who are now flanking Ethan, each place a consoling hand on his shoulder and give him ‘there, there’ looks. Ethan’s solid frame doesn’t flinch, even though I suspect Harry and Barney (but mostly Barney) are enjoying the contact more than they should be.

      ‘Why don’t we clear the air?’ Harry suggests. I tilt my head to the side expectantly and Ethan sips his drink like he hasn’t got a care in the world. He’s infuriating.

      ‘For the sake of enjoying a few drinks in peace, I’m sorry,’ Ethan says, but there’s no feeling in it. He’s doing it purely for the benefit of his friends, and since I’m an outsider, I’m hardly going to make a big deal out of it. I’m going back to Boston tomorrow anyway.

      ‘For the sake of enjoying the rest of the evening, I accept.’ I hold out my glass and he clinks it.

      ‘Great,’ says Barney with an excited clap. ‘We just knew you two would get along.’ For someone who professes to be intuitive, he really isn’t.

      The next few hours pass amicably. Harry and Barney flirt ostentatiously and without shame, both with each other and with Ethan. I pretend not to notice, but I get the feeling that Ethan actually doesn’t notice at all. He’s so sure of himself.

      Harry slurps the last dregs of his cocktail and frowns, realising it’s all gone. ‘So, are you heading back to Boston tomorrow?’

      ‘Yes, let’s see if I can find my place.’ I wink.

      ‘You will. Think Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada,’ he says with a wink.

      ‘At this point, I’d settle for Anne Hathaway’s role. I’ll just be happy if someone acknowledges my presence,’ I say.

      Ethan snorts. ‘Huh! You’re definitely more of a Streep.’

      ‘Excuse me?’

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