Page 35 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
Quickly I hung up the phone.
It was Sean.
“Come in,” I said, throwing the door open. “I’ll just get my things.”
I gathered my bag and coat up from the bed and turned to face him. “Hey, you’ve got a suit on—it kind of suits you.”
Sean was wearing a deep-purple shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and what I imagined must be a very expensive, charcoal-colored suit. The fabric had a slight sheen to it, and it hung beautifully on him.
David got his suits in Tesco’s. They’d just started doing them in their value range. The day David found out you could get a full suit for only £25 you’d have thought he’d won the lottery.
I bet Sean’s suit wasn’t even “off the rack,” let alone from a supermarket trolley.
“Sorry, bad pun,” I said when Sean didn’t respond to my comment.
“Oh sorry, yes,” Sean said hurriedly. “Your outfit is lovely too. You look so…so…”
“So…what?” I asked, grinning at him.
“Different.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I mean that in a good way. Oh, I’m rubbish at giving compliments, always have been. What I meant to say was—you look beautiful, Scarlett.”
“Oh, oh, right. Well, thank you,” I said, as my face flushed a similar shade to my dress.
We stood awkwardly in the doorway.
“We’d better get going,” I said. “Did you book a taxi?”
“Yes.” Sean looked at his watch. “It should be here by now, shall we wait downstairs?”
We both tried to exit through the door at once, barging shoulders as we did so.
“Sorry, ladies first,” Sean said, gallantly holding out his hand.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” I replied, bobbing a little curtsey, for once trying to act and sound like my namesake.
Sean pulled a face. “You’re not really the Scarlett O’Hara type, are you?”
I stopped still in the doorway. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the name—Scarlett. It’s a cool name, but it’s not really you, is it?”
I stared at Sean. What on earth was he talking about?
“What do you suggest I should be called?” I asked him, stepping back into the room. “If you’ve got any better ideas perhaps you should let me know now while I’ve still got the chance to spend the rest of my life getting used to being called something different.”
“Easy.” Sean laughed. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you have got the O’Hara temper on you. You definitely see red whenever someone criticizes you. Perhaps that’s why the dress suits you so well today.”
I should have known his pleasant manner wouldn’t last long.
“In fact that’s it. That’s probably what you should be called.”
I opened my eyes wide to suggest I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Red.” Sean grinned. “That’s what I shall call you from now on whenever you’re getting het up about something.”
