Page 45 of A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews
‘I. Didn’t. Used. To. Be. Difficult,’ she said between blows, each one making Steven blink. ‘You’re. The. One. Who. Made. Me. Difficult.’
‘No, no, Mattie,’ Steven said firmly. ‘That’s not the way I remember it. You’re mistaken.’
‘I. Am. Not. Mistaken.’
‘You know that you become quite irrational when you get too emotional. Calm down, sweetie.’
‘If. You. Don’t. Like. The. Way. I. Am. Then. You. Can. Leave.’ Mattie gestured with her rolling pin. ‘Door’s over there.’
‘Don’t be silly. I said I’d help you with your prep and that’s what I’m going to do,’ Steven said calmly, trying to take a step back as Mattie picked up a knife to cut her flattened butter into small squares. ‘You know, I would cut much larger squares, if I were you.’
‘Yeah, well, you’re not me,’ Mattie growled. ‘And forgive me for not following your culinary advice whenyouwere the one who stole my recipes …’
‘You’ve got absolutely no proof,’ Steven said with a shrug. ‘And you’re getting hysterical.’
‘I am not hysterical,’ Mattie said because she wasn’t even close. She remembered, from her skim read of Tom’s dissertation, that there was a certain kind of man who was quick to label women as hysterical whenever they stood up for themselves.
‘You’re shouting,’ Steven said in a quieter voice so that Mattie gave a guilty start even though she hadn’t been shouting. Or … she was pretty sure that she hadn’t been shouting, she couldn’t say for certain.
‘Sorry,’ leaked out of her mouth, a dirty old habit, before she could stop it.
‘Apology accepted,’ Steven said magnanimously and they worked in silence after that, apart from when Steven asked for instructions then insisted that his way was better. Mattie had a good mind to throw out every single gram of pastry that Steven had worked on, but it would just be cutting her nose off to spite her face, not to mention shocking food waste.
By the time the prep was done forty-five minutes later, Mattie was exhausted. Not just the physical exhaustion of a day spent mostly on her feet, but mentally and emotionally exhausted from dealing with Steven and his constant undermining and deflection.
‘I’ll see you home,’ he said, although Mattie was desperate for him to leave. She no longer had the energy to have things out with him and couldn’t face the thought of launching into the impassioned, scathing speech that she’d been working on for the last two years. She just wanted him gone.
‘No need. I live above the shop,’ she said, peeling off her apron. At least he would leave now. ‘Well, it was ni—’
‘Poor Matilda, you look so tired,’ Steven interrupted. ‘I’ll come up with you.’
‘Please don’t.’ She froze, horrified.
‘That’s very ungrateful. You obviously needed my help with all this prep and you haven’t even said thank you,’ Steven said. It was funny the things you forgot – now Mattie remembered his hurt voice only too well. It sent shivers down her spine. ‘The least you could do is offer me a cup of tea.’
‘No. I’m not making you tea,’ Mattie said, folding her arms. ‘Thank you for your help with the prep. There, I’ve said thank you, now you can go.’
Steven ignored her and stepped away, out of the kitchen – maybe he’d had a change of heart?
‘Above the shop, is it, Mattie? So back the way I came in?’
How could she have forgotten that Steven didn’t have a heart?
By the time Mattie caught up with him, he was already in the main room of the shop and slipping behind the counter. ‘This door marked private?’ he asked.
‘Stop, Steven. It’s marked private for a reason.’ But arguing with Steven was always as much use as howling at the moon. He was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. ‘Please. Will you just go?’
It was as if she hadn’t even spoken. He gestured at the stairs. ‘Ladies first.’
‘I’ve asked you to go …’
‘And I’ve asked you for one cup of tea and you begrudge me that?’ Steven shook his head. ‘You never used to be so selfish.’
Whereas Steven had always done what he damn well wanted. ‘OK, one cup of tea and then you have to leave. I mean it, Steven.’
He nodded his assent, eyes a shade cooler than before. Mattie could feel his eyes on her, like daggers, as she climbed the stairs up to the flat. She’d worked so hard to eradicate him from her life, to build a life without him, and now he was invading all the spaces where she most felt herself: her tearooms, her work kitchen and now her home.
There was light spilling under the door as she unlocked it, opened it, then came to a halt because she suddenly couldn’t bear to have Steven come any further.
