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Just Haven't Met You Yet(88)

Author:Sophie Cousens

Maude allows me to take pictures of her recipes with my phone. While I have it in my hand, I show her some of the photos of my trip—the pictures I have tried to re-create from my mother’s album. She flicks through the photos of me with the cow, the beach at Rozel, the cliff top and Plémont headland, then she pauses, taking my phone and putting on her glasses to look more closely.

“What’s this one, dear? Is that my coat alcove?”

“Er . . .”

“There you are,” says Jasper, walking in at just the right moment. “Are you ready to cut the cake, Mum?”

* * *

*

After the party, Jasper offers to drive me home, but his sisters are leaving in a few hours, and they clearly want to spend time with him, so I insist on making my own way back to L’étacq.

“Thank you for inviting me today. I so enjoyed meeting everyone,” I say, as we stand together on Maude’s doorstep.

“My sisters can be intense,” he says, pulling his mouth into a wide grimace. “But Mrs. Harvey said to me, ‘Don’t screw this one up, Jasper, she’s a beauty.’?”

He takes my hand, and I accept the compliment with a smile.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” he asks.

“I’m afraid I must do some work. I’m going to change my flight, stay a few more days.”

“Well, that is good news,” he says, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Listen, I have a favor to ask you,” I say sweetly, feeling my body tense in anticipation. “I was on the phone to my boss earlier, and I happened to mention you and how we met and, well—”

“She loved it?” Jasper finishes my sentence.

“Yes.” I nod guiltily.

“She wants you to write about it?”

“Kind of. I know, it’s a bit much—”

“Laura, I get it, it’s a great story. Love at first luggage.” Jasper moves his hand through the air, as though envisaging the words on a billboard somewhere. Why does everyone keep using that line?

“The thing is, my boss got slightly overexcited—she wants to do a photo shoot—” I pause, checking his face isn’t reading “horrified.” It isn’t. “I know it’s all a bit nuts, but it would just be a few pictures to go with the article . . .”

“Do they want a shot of me getting down on one knee or something?” he asks. I’m pretty sure he’s joking, but I shake my head nervously anyway.

“No, no, nothing like that, just a few photos of the suitcase, of us together—they want to do it on Monday.”

I pull my shoulders up around my ears, making what I imagine to be the facial expression of someone who’s spent ages twiddling lightbulbs on the Christmas tree to find the one loose connection, and now they’re about to turn the power back on, to see if they’ve done enough to make it work.

Jasper reaches out to put a hand on each of my shoulders.

“Whatever you need, Laura, it’s not a problem for me.”

“Thank you, Jasper. I wouldn’t want you to feel awkward, I can always tell her no if you’d rather not . . .”

“Listen, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve been ready to meet someone for a while now. I’ve just turned thirty, I’ve got a great business, a beautiful house that’s too big for me, I’m going to need a Mrs. Contessa Kitchens at some point, perhaps some Baby Contessa Kitchens too.” He grins, closes his eyes, then when he opens them, he says, “When you knocked on my door— Well, let’s just say I wasn’t sure I believed in love at first sight until yesterday . . .”

Wow, this is intense. The mention of Baby Contessa Kitchens just made my palms start to sweat. My mouth emits a high-pitched humming sound. But I can hardly berate the guy for getting ahead of himself when I’ve just asked him to do a Hello-style photo shoot with me.

“That is so sweet, Jasper, but, um.” I swallow, my mouth dry, Maude’s words of warning heavy on my mind. “We have lots of time to get to know each other better, especially if you come to London sometimes. I wouldn’t want to put too much pressure on something that’s just beginning.”

“Sure, I know. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Jasper’s face contorts with boyish embarrassment and he scuffs his shoe against the concrete step. Now I feel terrible that I’ve made him regret his lovely, romantic words. Isn’t this exactly what I’d hoped to hear? Wasn’t I the one telling everyone yesterday that I thought I’d love him before I’d even met him? Dee’s words ring in my ears, about how I sabotage things, so I lean in to kiss him, determined not to let myself ruin this.

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