Page 24 of Where There's A Will
When Hugo didn’t call me or respond to any of my messages by the time I got home from work on Tuesday evening, I chalked it up to him making our reservations. I made a microwave mac ’n’ cheese and drank a large glass of wine, while watching a couple of episodes ofSex and the City.How I still longed for Carrie’s wardrobe and show collection, even though they would probably be classed as vintage these days.
Bolstered by the effects of the wine, I decided to call him.
He sounded out of breath when he answered. “Montana, hi.”
“So, I spoke to my boss and I got the week off. She wasn’t happy about it, given it was relatively short notice, but I’ve promised to get as much finished this week as I can. I’m going in early and finishing late every day until Friday.”
“Right, good.” He let out a hard breath. “Because we go on Saturday.”
“What should I pack?” I had a whole London wardrobe planned in my head, but needed Hugo to give me a couple of clues.
“Well, the destination is a surprise! Pack for every possibility, knowing we’re flying, of course.” He chuckled. “I’ll pick you up on the way to the airport on Saturday. Be ready at seven-thirty sharp.”
“You don’t want to do anything before then? Dinner or drinks one night this week?” I questioned.
“Nah, sorry, too busy. I’ll see you Saturday.” Then he hung up.
I felt my bullshit detector twitch, though not strongly enough for me to address it right now. I was too excited about the trip.
There was a timid knock on my apartment door. I frowned as I checked the time. Close to ten-thirty. Who would be knocking on my door at this time of night? I peered through the peephole to see Will standing there.
I stalled. We’d had a fantastic night together on Sunday, then last night I’d pretty much told him I was getting back with my ex. If I opened the door to him…
The conversation I’d just had with Hugo played on my mind. Why didn’t he want to see me until Saturday? Surely no one was that busy they couldn’t fit in a drink with the woman they were taking on holiday? Unless… I shook the thought from my head.
Will had turned and was starting to walk away. Before I could change my mind, I flung the door open.
“Will, hi! Sorry, I was in the bathroom. How are you?”
He held up a bottle of wine. “We couldn’t sell it in the restaurant, after it was uncorked. They had a fight and this wasn’t consumed. So I got to keep it. I thought you might like it.”
Pinot Noir. He was right, I would like it. But I felt guilty drinking it without him.
“Come and share it with me,” I murmured before I could change my mind. Then I held up a finger. “But we’re only drinking. None of the other stuff you’re so damn good at.”
“Talking?” he asked playfully, his brows quirking.
“No”—I eyed him, a smile tugging at my lips—“kissing. And all the rest that went on after the kissing.”
He grinned and followed me into the apartment.
I pulled the cork out of the bottle and sloshed a hefty amount into two large wine glasses. It didn’t matter I’d already been drinking Sauvignon Blanc. There was always room for a good Pinot. And if I remembered correctly, this was definitely a good one.
Handing one of the glasses to Will, I plonked myself on the floor where we’d sat the other evening, and he slid down beside me.
“How was your shift?” I asked. I wanted to keep the conversation on safe ground. If we started talking about London again, I knew exactly where this evening was going to end up.
Will pulled a face. “It was a Tuesday. Not one of the busiest. The most interesting thing that happened was the couple arguing. Although they didn’t pull the same kind of sting you did.” He winked.
I winced. I was never going to live that down.
“And how was your day?” he enquired.
It was like we were a proper couple. Finding out about each other’s day, sipping wine and chilling out after a hard day’s work. All the things Hugo and I used to do together. I had a sudden pang of guilt. I shouldn’t be here chatting to Will if Hugo and I were getting back together. But Will was here and he’d brought wine. It didn’t have to go any further than a couple of drinks and a late-night neighbourly chat.
“Well, as I’m going away next week, I’ve been dumped with all the crappy tasks no one else wants to do because I’m working more to make up for it.” It was amazing how many of the team needed a report writing or a presentation creating..
“That’s rubbish.” He reached over and stroked my arm.
