“Lovely marshmallows,” Annie gushed, as though they’d just come back in from eating them and the whole foreplay-on-the-dance-floor thing hadn’t happened at all.
“Thanks,” said John, fully embracing this line of conversation. “I bought them in a shop . . .” He trailed off and then came back with, “I really should make a move. I’ve got a breakfast meeting with a client . . .”
“Oh, absolutely. Thank you for helping me clear down. And for the marshmallows.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Right, then.”
“Right, then.”
“Okay, well, I’ll just go back and finish up.” She motioned to the sparkling clean counter area.
“I’ll head off,” said John, pointing exaggeratedly at the door, as if there might have been some question about him letting himself out of the window instead.
“Bye, then, have fun!” called Annie. Have fun? What the fuck? Why did I tell him to have fun? Annie’s brain shouted at her.
John frowned and cocked his head to one side. There was a crooked smile forming on his lips.
“Erm, yes,” he said. He stood looking at her for another long moment, his eyebrows knitted together, and then he said, “Bye, then. Have fun.” And he left the building.
Annie felt hot; she knew she was blushing furiously. She imagined herself running hard at the wall and knocking herself out; she was sure being unconscious would make her feel better at this point. She turned the volume up on the music in the hopes that it might drown out her mortified thoughts. Have fun indeed! Those words were going to haunt her for a long time.
* * *
—
Later, tucked up in bed, with a mug of cocoa—containing a generous slosh of brandy, and with hands shaking slightly in anticipation—Annie finally opened the little note containing big numbers from John. They were, in fact, big numbers. With this offer he could not only afford carers for Mari, he could probably buy the company. But Annie had never been one to balk at the throwing down of a gauntlet, and she reasoned that John was a fair man, with an emotional attachment to Saltwater Nook. She could work with this; she just had to get Max to agree to her terms before it was too late.
Chapter 63
A ting emitted from Annie’s and Gemma’s phones as a message came through on the book club chat.
Sally: Sorry ladies, I’m going to have to bail on tonight. Susan’s got the worst cold. I’m playing nursemaid.
Gemma: Oh dear, poor Susan. Why don’t we postpone till next Wednesday?
Sally: I don’t want you to miss your club just because of me.
Maeve: Poppycock! We’re not doing it without you. All for one and one for all and all that!
Annie: Same. Pass my love on to Susan. Hope you don’t catch it!
Gemma slipped her phone back under the counter. She liked to keep it handy in case there was any kind of emergency at school with the children.
“Oh, well, that’s a shame,” said Gemma.
“Yes. Although to be honest, I hadn’t quite finished it yet anyway. I was going to have to Google the end of the plot.”
“Cheat,” said Gemma. “You’ll just have to enthrall me with the details of your tryst with John instead. I have very little excitement in my life and with no book club to look forward to I need some drama to keep me going.”
“I keep telling you, it wasn’t a tryst! Who even uses that word anyway?”
“I do! My husband is away a lot, I read a lot of romantic fictions, trysts are a prominent feature.”
“We were probably just on a sugar high from all the marshmallows.”
“But you did dirty dancing.”
“It was hardly dirty dancing.” Annie’s stomach thrilled at the remembrance of John kissing her throat. “Well, all right, maybe it was a little bit dirty dancing.” She had suddenly come over rather warm.
Gemma punched the air.
“I knew it!”
“It can’t come to anything,” said Annie. “It’s just not practical, for either of us.”
Gemma pouted but didn’t push it.
John had had some design consultations in London and had spent several days at his place in Clapham. It seemed John was as incapable of taking a step back workwise as she was. Their messaging had taken on a much flirtier tone in his absence. But Annie hadn’t just spent her time thinking up peppy repartee—not all of it, at any rate—she had been doing her financial homework and number crunching, in readiness for John’s return.
Annie had anticipated that the developer’s offer would far exceed what she could reasonably offer, but she wasn’t disheartened. She had something that the developer couldn’t offer: She had the expertise and drive to save Saltwater Nook and all the happy memories it contained for John and Mari.