Page 31 of Just for December

‘Oh, Evie!’ he cries, pushing back his chair and falling to the floor. He’s on bended knee, but when a dad two tables over nudges his partner Duke realises that it looks like a proposal, so drops the other one.

‘Evie Bird, bestselling author, lady of midnight-walking knowledge and endless hurtful-but-strangely-provocativejibes, I offer thee my most sincere apologies! Thou art a fair maiden and I but a rude, indignant ogre, and all the days and all the nights could not add up to enough time to truly give you the sorry you most truly deserve! Evie! I beg for your mercy! I beg for your grace, oh benevolent one!’

Evie looks at him and with a perfectly straight face – all the more impressive considering almost everyone in the café is looking at them – and says, ‘Forgiven. That was a very proficient apology. Well done.’ Duke had hoped to make her laugh. He’ll settle for getting to return to his seat at the table.

‘Your not-so-secret admirer hasn’t come back …’ Duke says, and Evie raises an eyebrow.

‘Is that surprising?’ she asks.

Duke purses his lips. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he retorts quickly – too quickly. ‘I thought you two were perfect for each other.’

Evie doesn’t reply, simply busies herself with putting some lip balm onto her perfectly kissable lips and popping a mint.

‘Want one?’ she says, and Duke smiles. ‘Is that a hint?’

What he meant was, was the lip balm and mint a hint that a kiss might be imminent. She knows that’s what he meant. Instead, she pushes his buttons and tells him, ‘Honestly? Yes. You’ve got breath like a sewer.’

Duke suddenly panics that that’s true, practically ripping the mints from her hand. He takes two and chews quickly, and when he looks back at her sees that she’s laughing. A lot.

‘You’re a funny one, mister,’ she says to him.

He swallows the Tic Tacs.

‘Is that so?’ he says.

‘Yup.’

‘Hmm.’

‘My sentiments exactly,’ she clucks.

Then the penny drops. She’s not going to make this easy for him. It’s his turn, now, to push the needle forward on whateverthisis. Last night, it was almost like she was ready to kiss him. Could it be? Is it possible that they’ve reached a place together that promises potential?

‘Evie?’ Duke prompts, needing verbal confirmation. She chews her lips and raises her eyebrows at him in response. ‘It’s my move, isn’t it?’ He grins.

She grins right back, and just like that they’re on the exact same – and unexpected – page.

‘Oh yeah,’ she tells him. ‘And you’d better make it a good one.’

‘Hey,’ Duke whispers, as close to her face as he can so as not to wake anybody else. ‘Wake up, Evie. Psst.’

She looked so peaceful it felt borderline mean to nudge her, but she laid down the gauntlet with such provocation that Duke has to act before he loses his nerve. He doesn’t know what it is about her exactly, why she can unnerve him so deeply. It might be her wildly obvious lack of regard for his work and his fame. She acknowledges it, but pushes him to show her what else there is. It terrifies him and exhilarates him. It’s an addictive rush. She’s calling him on his bull: he wants to be truly appreciated for who he is, and she’s daring him to show her who he is, without the fame, first.

He watches as Evie lifts her head from where she’d been resting it on a café table. It’s the middle of the night. They’restill in the service station awaiting word that it’s safe to go back to the car. Traffic northbound is moving, but it won’t be until sunrise that the debris from the car crash on the southbound road is lifted, and that’s after the snow has been cleared. It’s stopped, now, but there’s a lot of it out there. Inside, the only lights come from the covered fridges in the food outlets and the Christmas decorations. The music has been turned off so people can rest, as if they’re all on a flight somewhere over the Atlantic and will be awoken with lemon-scented wet towels by a smiling air hostess when it’s time to think about their destination. There’s fifty or so people stuck with them, so it’s not too crowded – luckily so, since that’s what sparked Duke’s plan. This is the most public privacy he’s had in years.

‘Hey,’ Duke says, as she eyeballs him. ‘You okay?’

‘I was,’ she mutters quietly. She wipes some drool from her mouth and sits up. She’s got creases down one side of her cheek. Duke wants to reach out a hand to them, to caress her face and cup her chin, but he doesn’t.

‘Yeah,’ he whispers back. ‘Sorry to wake you. I was just wondering if you wanted to go on a non-fake date with me.’

She quasi-smiles. ‘What?’ she asks. ‘Now?’

She says it like it’s a joke, but Duke nods. ‘Yeah. Come on.’

He holds out a hand for her and with a puzzled expression she takes it. He leads her to the other end of the services and behind the counter of one of the outlets. Fingers entwined, palms touching, he takes her around another corner and holds back a curtain. He lets go of her hand to step aside and reveals what he’s spent the past few hours working on.

‘Ta-da!’ he says.

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