Page 113 of Bea's Book Wagon
‘God, I know, right?’ Jess agreed. ‘Well, have fun tonight, and wish Nate good luck from me.’
‘Will do, speak tomorrow,’ said Bea.
* * *
Bea pulled up at Three Acre Farm, just after six-thirty, checking her makeup in the rear-view mirror and smoothing out the edges of her lipstick one final time before getting out of the car.
‘Stay there,’ said Nathan, striding towards her in Archie’s borrowed tux. ‘There’s cow muck all over the yard and I don’t want you ruining that outfit,’ he said, admiring the long midnight blue satin dress she was wearing.
‘Me neither,’ Bea agreed, ‘it took me hours to look like this.’ She did a double-take when she saw just how good he looked, too.
He looked nothing like the Nathan she was used to, Nathan the farmer in his dirty jeans and checked shirts, his hair an untamed mop of tangles, his face always sporting a few days’ worth of stubble. The Nathan standing in front of her was clean shaven, well-groomed and devastatingly handsome. There was simply no other way to put it. Her heart did an unexpected flip.
‘Wow! Don’t you scrub up well?’ she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
God, he smelled good.
‘You’re not looking so bad yourself, Miller,’ he said, stepping back to take in the full effect of her dress.
Miller? Nathan hadn’t called her by her surname, his pet name for her, in years. She felt her stomach somersault in spite of herself.
For goodness sake, Bea, get a grip.
‘How are you feeling about tonight?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you know,’ he shrugged, ‘either way it’s a free night out, I guess.’
‘Exactly. Try not to think about it too much, we’ll just have fun.’
‘I’m planning on making full use of the free bar, seeing as you’re driving,’ he said with a cheeky grin.
‘Hey, it’s your night, that’s why I offered to drive.’
‘Shall we hit the road?’ he asked with a smile that showed off his dimples.
‘Let’s do it!’ said Bea, climbing back into the car and pulling on her seatbelt. ‘Brighton here we come!’
* * *
‘Wow, this is gorgeous,’ said Bea, as they walked through the entrance to the Empress Suite at the Grand Hotel. There were uniformed waiting staff handing out champagne cocktails, and the organizers came straight over to shake Nathan’s hand and congratulate him on making the shortlist.
‘We’re so pleased to have you as one of our finalists,’ said an elegant woman, with perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. From the name tag she was wearing, Bea could see she was Cece Smith from the East Sussex Chamber of Commerce. ‘There’s been some stiff competition this year.’
‘Thank you, I’m chuffed to be here,’ said Nathan, shaking her hand enthusiastically.
‘I’ve had some of your cheese before, and I have to say it’s out of this world,’ said Cece, miming a chef’s kiss.
‘Thank you,’ replied Nathan, with a shy smile.
‘Do you sell direct, by any chance?’ Cece asked.
‘Not at the moment, I’m afraid, no. I have thought about opening a shop on the farm, but it’s not very practical, really, I’m too busy with the animals to staff it myself and we’re quite a bit off the beaten track anyway,’ he explained.
‘That’s such a shame. I’m sure lots of people would travel to buy direct from you, rather than at a marked-up retail price,’ said Cece.
‘Maybe,’ said Nathan, nodding. ‘It’s definitely something to think about.’
‘You should, and if you need any help, we at the Chamber of Commerce are always here for any guidance you might need,’ said Cece. ‘Lovely to meet you in person, Nathan. Have a wonderful evening, and best of luck!’
