Page 70 of Barging In
Clem looked up to see her running from the Jaguar, hair swaying from side to side. Clem sucked in a breath at the sight of her. Just being in this woman’s orbit made every cell in her body sing. Victoria scooped the bags from Clem’s hand, bringing much relief to her shoulder.
“Thanks,” Clem gasped. “Coffee and walnut cake, marble loaf, chocolate brownies, and fruity flapjack are heavier than I thought.”
The corners of Victoria’s mouth drooped playfully. “No lemon drizzle?”
“Haven’t you had enough this week to satisfy you?”
“You know me, I can’t get enough of you — I mean, your lemon drizzle — to satisfy me.” A sheepish smile crept across her face as she held the wharf’s front doorwide open. “I’ve been trying to catch you the last few days, but I always seem to miss you.”
“You can text me, Victoria. I’m only over there.” Clem nodded in the direction of the canal. “I’d like to see you. I’ve missed your company,” she admitted softly, a statement that broadened Victoria’s smile even further as she strode ahead to open the café door.
“Likewise.”
“So, what did you want?” Clem asked, desperately curious.
“Oh, just to return your container. I popped it in the kitchen for you.”
Clem gave a half smile, secretly having hoped Victoria might have wanted to see her for something more than returning a container.
“There was something else I wanted to see you about,” Victoria added, as though she could read Clem’s thoughts.
“Oh?” Clem tilted her head, trying not to let her hopes rise too high. She was still waiting on a date for that dinner invitation.
Victoria held open the kitchen door. “I was wondering when you’d pop over for that tour of the wharf.”
It wasn’t quite what Clem had been hoping for, but it had been on her mind, too. She was curious to see what lay beyond those glass doors and delve into the history of women’s undergarments.
“I could come over after I close up. About four-ish?” Clem suggested, setting the cake box down on the kitchen island.
“Perfect. And I really don’t mean to pressure you. I want to show you what I’ve built here — properly, I mean. I know you’ve seen lots already, well, some of it anyway?—”
Clem reached out and lightly touched Victoria’s arm to settle her rambling.
“And I’d love to see more,” she said, noticing Victoria’s cheeks pinking slightly as she removed the cake containers from the bags she was holding. “I’m quite intrigued by an entire museum dedicated to corsetry.”
“Jasper has worked wonders with it,” Victoria said, handing her the empty container. “Here. The lemon drizzle was predictably perfect. Very thoughtful, too. Thank you.”
The sheepish smile was back on Victoria’s face, making Clem’s heart tug a little.
“You’re welcome,” she replied softly, remembering again the first time Victoria had thanked her for it. Before she realised what she was doing, her hand had reached up to her cheek — the same cheek Victoria had kissed. She pulled it back quickly, glancing at Victoria to gauge any reaction. Had she noticed? Their eyes met, and Clem felt heat rise to her cheeks.
“I’d best get back to work,” Victoria said, her lips curving upwards in a private sort of amusement. “I put out an advert for more catering staff on Monday, and applications have already started coming in.”
“That’s great. I’ll see you later then,” Clem said, following her out of the kitchen.
“Looking forward to it,” Victoria said, still smiling as she headed off to her office.
Clem stood and watched her as she went. That smile could have meant anything, but it felt like everything. Was she reading too much into it? She stopped her thought in its tracks. It was best not to dream about things that would never happen.
Clem arrived a few minutes early for her tour and introduced herself to the woman at the desk.
The receptionist nodded. “I’ll let Victoria know you’re here.”
“Thank you. Do you have a leaflet about the museum?” Clem asked.
“No, sorry, we don’t,” she replied with an apologetic smile.
How on earth were they promoting themselves to the surrounding area without one?
